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#just bc i have some domestic cute fluff w yelena that could fit here if i tweak it a lil bit
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#just bc i have some domestic cute fluff w yelena that could fit here if i tweak it a lil bit
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Habits - Part 2
(A/N) this ended up longer than i meant it to be bc i was editing it and thought,, lemme add more. dunno. anyway, hope yall enjoy! staying up late to work on some oneshots and the series update a;lskdf;lak figured i’d queue them as i finished them. almost midnight, so fingers crossed! once again, read that fic i linked in the first part bc it’s fantastic and send that author love.
Rating: E (Explicit for p0rn with minimal plot. it’s more relevant in this chapter, i think, but it’s v much just smut. 18+ only)
Warnings: fuckboy!yelena; PISSED!Natasha; R gets railed by a strap on; yelena is the jealous type; natwanda is very background sorry; emotionally abusive parents; mentions of past physical abuse; dw r’s parents are p much ignored in this lmfao they play such a minor role i kinda forgot they existed lowkey; this is a bit angstier than the first
Pairing: Yelena Belova x Fem!Reader; Natasha Romanoff x Wanda Maximoff (background)
Chapter Word Count: 10.8k
Total Word Count: 30.1k
Synopsis: It’s been a few years since you last saw your childhood best friend, Natasha, and her little sister, Yelena. Transferring colleges leads to you needing a roommate, and that roommate just so happens to be Natasha. Not much has changed between you, you’re still thick as thieves. Her sister, however, is a completely different story.
OR: The part where you build a glass castle and it comes crashing down.
| Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four |
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not my gif
Russian Translations: Malyskha - Babygirl / Milaya - Sweetie / Kratsoka - Gorgeous / Lyubov’ - Love / Dorogoy - Darling
-
You wake up feeling way more relaxed than usual. You can’t recall having slept so soundly in your life, and the bed feels so much more comfy and warm than you can remember it ever being. You turn over, snuggling deeper into the blanket that feels strangely human.
Wait.
You open your eyes and nearly jump out of your skin when you meet a sleepy green gaze. Yelena blinks slowly as she takes you in, the gears in her mind still slow with the morning. 
“Natasha is going to murder me.” You whisper, moreso to yourself than Yelena.
The blonde stretches her arms and legs with a long groan, releasing you from her hold so that you can sit up as much as you can on the stupid couch. You force your gaze away from her naked body, instead focusing on the hall leading to the front door.
“Doubt it,” Yelena says at last, her already deep voice even huskier with sleep. Oh god. She’s so hot. “I won’t let her.”
“You’re her little sister.”
“Yes, and?”
“And I’m her best friend.”
“And…?”
“And she’s going to kill me.” You whine, biting your lip. 
Yelena scoffs. “Shouldn’t the person on top be the one she kills? How does she know I didn’t seduce you?”
“I don’t think she’ll care, seeing as you’re her-”
“Oh, enough with that shit.” Yelena sits up, doesn’t even bother to cover her chest. “You want this. You want me. I know you do.”
You meet her eyes uncertainly, but you don’t deny it. Why lie now, when she’s already proven her point? “But if she-”
“I’m an adult. You’re an adult. We’re adults who want to have sex.” She shrugs. “She can’t do anything about it.” You’re finding it harder and harder to resist that logic when she keeps looking at you with obvious want. Sensing your crumbling resolve, Yelena continues: “If you really don’t want to, we can stop. But I think you do want to.” She leans in close, her breath warm on your ear. “I know you want to. You were practically dripping last night, malyshka.”
You inhale sharply. Yelena smirks, clearly well aware of what she’s doing to you. Your heart is hammering in your ears, thunderous. “We can’t let her find out.” It’s a pathetic whisper, because you’re desperate for a way out of this that doesn’t ruin your entire friendship with one or both of your favorite human beings.
“You have a beautiful mind,” Yelena purrs, beginning to pepper kisses along your neck. “And a beautiful body,” her hand finds yours where you’re covering your breasts. She eases your hands, her kisses skirting along your collarbone. 
You move your hands to cup her cheeks, redirecting her mouth onto yours. Yelena hums, smiling with her victory. She maneuvers herself on top of you, easing you onto your back while her tongue and teeth make you forget everything but her.
Your phone buzzes from somewhere on the floor. You freeze. Yelena sighs, lets you reach around blindly for your jeans. Several missed texts - and calls - from Natasha, and another text from Carol.
Natasha’s don’t surprise you.
did you make it home ok? (11:23pm)
your silence tells me no (11:30pm)
did you end up fucking carol? (11:34)
answer your fucking phone dumbass (11:47pm)
wanda says you’re probably asleep. if you dont text me before noon tomorrow i’m going to hunt you down. (12:01am)
final warning before i rush to the apartment. (11:45am)
You hurriedly type out a text: sorry! just woke up! i was just really tired!!! Im alive, no need to terrorize my peaceful sunday. (11:46am)
“Who is it?” Yelena asks, laying back down on top of you as if you hadn’t moved at all. 
“Nat,” you whisper, frowning. “She was gonna come check on me. If we’re going to keep doing this, we should set some ground rules.”
“Ugh,” Yelena groans, “I hate rules.”
“And I don’t want Natasha to catch us with your hand between my legs.” You huff, chuckling a little.
Natasha responds:
she lives! (11:49am)
almost brought wanda and yelena to drag you out of bed (11:49am)
i’ll be home late. Wanda wants to spend our last day of freedom indoors ;) (11:50am)
You wrinkle your nose. tmi. enjoy ur sex day. (11:50am)
She sends a slew of emojis in response and you roll your eyes, almost clicking out of the messaging app when you remember Carol texted you.
hope you made it home safe last night! sorry if i came on a little strong, i think i just misread the situation. I promise im not a total horndog. I’d love to buy you a coffee sometime? :) (8:21am)
Yelena tilts her head to read your screen and groans again. “Jesus, can’t she take a hint?”
You snort. “She’s actually being nice, Yelena.”
Her arms tighten around you. “But I’m nicer.”
“I’m not going to go out with her,” you surprise yourself with the confidence in your voice. “And you don’t have to be, like, jealous of her.”
Yelena smiles, ducking her head to blow a raspberry against your collarbone. “I’m not jealous.”
“You sound a little jealous.”
“Maybe I just don’t want to share.”
“You don’t have to, if you don’t want to. Remember that thing I mentioned earlier that you said you hated? This is one of those magical things. I believe the word is-”
“Okay, okay, I get it.” Yelena nibbles at your neck. 
You smile, unable to help yourself, and set your phone on the coffee table. You comb your now free hand through Yelena’s hair. “And… you won’t, um- do anything with anyone, either?”
“Of course not. You’re the only one that I want.” The tenderness in her tone makes your heart melt unexpectedly. She kisses your neck, leaning back to meet your eyes again. She looks so overwhelmingly fond of you, you can’t help connecting your lips. It just feels right, laying here with her. 
Her eyes dart to your neck, a new grin on her face. “Can we continue where we left off, or…?”
You breathe out a laugh. “You’re insatiable. Sure, but we should move it to the bedroom. This couch sucks.”
You’re in for a long Sunday.
(“Holy shit, Lena,” you gasp, several hours later, when you finally get a look at yourself in the bathroom mirror. Your neck, collarbone, and torso have hickeys of varying severity, the ones most visible unfortunately being the ones that are the hardest to cover. 
“What?” The blonde in question slips in behind you, sliding her hands to your hips as she looks at your reflection admiringly. “I don’t see a problem?”
“What the hell am I gonna tell Natasha? That I was wrestling with an octopus?”
“Does my sister often see this much of your body?” Yelena snickers.
You roll your eyes, but lean back into her embrace. “No, but when she sees the entire continent of Europe on my neck she’s going to be a little bit suspicious.”
“You’re so paranoid. She and Wanda are way too absorbed with each other to notice something as ridiculous as a few hickeys.”)
- - - - -
“Holy fuck, were you wrestling with an octopus?” Natasha asks, catching you in the kitchen much later that evening. Yelena had left two hours ago, and you’d spent most of that time sleeping. 
��Uh- something like that.” You had hoped your hoodie would cover most of the damage. 
Natasha grins that shit-eating grin you’ve come to know and love. “You hooked up with Carol, didn’t you?”
“Um-”
“Told you she was hot.” Natasha brushes past you to open the fridge. “So that’s why you slept ‘til noon.”
“I always sleep ‘til noon,” you scoff. “You’re the freak who gets up with the sun.”
“That’s literally when you’re supposed to wake up.”
“Says who?”
“Humanity.”
“I don’t associate myself with those.” 
The rest of the evening, Yelena occasionally texts you and you do your best to hide it from Natasha. If she notices the constant checking of your phone, she doesn’t comment. In fact, she looks damn pleased with herself at what she must believe was a successful setup. You’re definitely just digging yourself into a deeper hole.
You talk about upcoming classes, and then you start to feel shitty about yourself so you go to bed early. You’re tired anyway.
(The longer you hide this, the worse it’s going to get. You should just say something to Natasha. ‘Hey, by the way, your sister sort of came onto me and now I think we’re dating. That’s fine, right?’)
(You’re so, so fucked.)
- - - - -
Your last real Halloween was - surprise surprise - when you lived in Ohio. After that, you were too old to trick-or-treat and didn’t have enough friends to be invited to parties, so. Yeah. Naturally, upon hearing this, Natasha is insistent upon throwing a Halloween party to make up for every single one you’ve missed. 
Your last time celebrating, Yelena was just small enough that you could all get away with scoring free candy off the neighborhood. You’re positive she hated it, but you sure as shit loved free candy so she didn’t put up too much of a fuss. (It’s shocking, to think back to what she’s done for you and you alone.) You and Natasha had been pirates that year, so in memory you’re pirates this year. Of course, you’re adults now, so the costumes are a lot more risque than they had been years ago.
Yours is a corset with one of those flowing tops and a ridiculously tight pair of pants. This is the last time you ever shop for pants online, you swear this to every god you know by name. Unfortunately, Natasha had invited Carol under the impression that she was your regular hookup given that Yelena hadn’t stopped her habit of leaving hickeys wherever she wanted.
Speaking of- you know Yelena was invited, but she likes to show up late. She’s probably working on her homework - as much as she pretends that she isn’t, Yelena is somewhat the academic type and at least gives effort into her assignments, albeit last-minute. You keep looking at the door, expecting her to walk in, and after about half an hour of this Natasha starts to notice.
“Who’re you waiting for? Carol’s over there,” she frowns, confused. 
Of course, Carol is talking to one of her friends. You recognize the woman, but you’re too distracted to place a name to a face right now.
“Oh, uh, yeah,” you clear your throat. “It’s- I’m not looking for anyone.”
“Yelena’s on her way. Says she got caught up.” Natasha frowns at her phone. “I think she’s hooking up with someone. She’s been in a good mood lately.”
“Oh?” You force your voice to remain even. “Any ideas on who it might be?”
“Not a clue. She’s learned how to hide her tracks.” Natasha sounds genuinely frustrated at this. You laugh at her pout.
“I’m sure it’s nothing. Can’t someone just be happy for the sake of being happy?”
She eyes you warily, but her response is cut off by the front door opening. Speak of the devil, it’s Yelena. She’s wearing what you can only assume to be a military uniform of some kind. She’s wearing the vest you bought for her, as well as camo pants and combat boots. Her cheeks have solid lines of black, the main indicator of her costume.
It hits you, very sharply, how goddamn gorgeous she is. It’s honestly an outfit she’d probably wear on a normal day out, but she looks so good in it, you forget to breathe for a second. The rest of the party feels muted, somehow, in comparison to the beam of light Yelena brings to you just by entering the room.
Of course, you have to play it casual. A cordial greeting, an inside joke to show Natasha that you’re totally normal, not at all having sex with each other.
Drink two, and this is when you start feeling Yelena’s eyes on you. She’s always so aware of you, you doubt her gaze ever left you since she’d entered. Still, you pretend you don’t notice, even when Carol starts chatting you up.
“You look great,” she says, smiling that friendly smile of hers.
You aren’t flirting, but you aren’t exactly ignoring her advances, either. It’s a relatively innocent conversation about classes, when lacrosse season starts. Easy stuff. Basic shit, really. It’s enough, though. 
You felt your phone vibrate.
Your room. Ten minutes. (11:38pm)
It’s from Yelena, of course.
You can’t count down the minutes fast enough. Natasha is long-gone in her conversation with Steve, Wanda and Pietro, and Carol has returned to her friend. Perfect timing. Nobody even notices your absence.
Yelena is, unsurprisingly, waiting for you. There are more guests than usual, so locking the door and barring entry shouldn’t raise too many eyebrows. At least, in theory, it shouldn’t. This is honestly the most risky situation you’ve found yourselves in since you started this whole thing.
The moment the door is locked, she’s on you. She’s kissing you hard, like she can’t get enough of you, her hands pawing at your corset like an overager teenager. You try to laugh at her eagerness, but it’s cut off by a squeal when her hands grip your ass.
“You’re forgetting who you belong to, malyshka,” she warns lowly. You gasp when she pulls you impossibly closer. “This is the perfect time for a reminder, don’t you think?”
And that’s how you find yourself half-naked with Yelena between your legs, eating you out like it’s her job. Her tongue flickers against your clit, urgency in her actions. She wants this to be quick, but you have the sense that she’s battling against her urge to make you last longer.
You’ve been keeping quiet for the most part. Or, as quiet as possible when you’re being gravitated towards a mind-shattering orgasm. Yelena is just unfairly good at making you want to scream, so you end up biting your pillows and your fist to keep from making too much noise. 
And when you finally - finally - reach that precipice, Yelena is right there, holding your hand above your head and swallowing your moans. Once you’ve caught your breath, she settles herself over your face, and you make quick work of returning the favor.
When you return to the party, you’re positive your makeup isn’t as nice as it had been before your impromptu session with Yelena. If Natasha notices, she doesn’t comment. Still, this is the first time since you’d started this whole thing that you feel that raw, unnerving guilt gnawing away at the back of your mind.
(Part of you wishes she’d just find out already. That she’d question why you and Yelena always seem to disappear together, or why you have so many of Yelena’s shirts.)
(She never does.)
(You hate what you’ve become.)
(You love your bad habits.)
- - - - -
“I don’t understand where this is coming from.” Your mother’s tone is, predictably, nothing short of cold and clipped as she talks to you. “Why would you spend Thanksgiving in Ohio? Are you seriously contacting your father again?”
“No, mom, I’m not contacting Dad.” Your handful of weeks fucking (dating?) Yelena in secret were going incredibly well. Unfortunately, when things go well for you, there tends to be something to completely destroy whatever scrap of happiness you’d found for yourself. That something, typically, is your mother. “I’m going to spend it with Natasha’s family.”
A pause. “The Russians?”
“Yup.”
An even longer pause. “I just don’t understand. I take you out of that hellish state, I make sure you get into a good college - that I pay for, by the way - and this is how you thank me? Leaving me for your father? Don’t you remember what he did to me? To you?” 
You cringe. “Mom, I’m not-”
“As if leaving me for strangers is any better!” She snaps.
“I’ve known her since we were like, seven! I haven’t seen her parents in years, they practically raised me when you and dad couldn’t be bothered-”
“Don’t take that tone with me. I don’t know what you think you’re referring to, but that is not how I remember the situation. Fine, you had one friend growing up and I’m happy you’ve reconnected, but this is ridiculous.”
You chew the inside of your cheek, tasting blood. “You said you were working that week, anyway.”
“And I’m not allowed to want to come home to my child?” She scoffs. “If you want to be ungrateful, fine. You had better come here for winter break.” 
With this, she hangs up, and you finally let the stupid tears you’d been fighting come freely to the surface. You would, literally, rather die than cry in front of your mother - even if it’s on the phone. Maybe it’s just a stubborn habit you’ll never kick.
Yelena was the one to ask if you could go. You were genuinely excited to see Alexei and Melina again, even if it meant pretending you weren’t betraying their eldest daughter by getting railed by their youngest. There’s no proper etiquette of tricking your best friend into letting you follow her to Ohio because you’re fucking her little sister, so it took a bit of hinting on Yelena’s end to convince Natasha to ask their parents and, eventually, you.
School work was already piling up, so that’s probably not helping the uncontrollable crying. You never could manage your emotions well when work was piled up. Feeling stupid and just sad, you reach for pretty much your only source of comfort lately: one of Yelena’s ridiculously large hoodies. They’re big on her, so the sleeves go easily past your fingers. It smells like her.
“(Y/N)?” The door opens, temporarily surprising the sobs out of you. You look up and find Yelena in the doorway. Her expression changes instantly. She’s at your side, pulling you into a tight embrace. You sink into her hold, burying your face in her neck. “What’s wrong, milaya?”
“Nothing,” you sniffle. “It’s stupid.”
“Nothing that makes you upset is stupid.” Yelena murmurs, kissing the top of your head. 
“My mom,” you offer lamely. “She’s just pissed I’m not going to hers next week.”
Yelena holds you tighter. “Is she going to try to send you back to New York?”
You snort. “No, she wouldn’t do that unless I somehow got pregnant.”
She sighs. “There go my plans…”
“Shut up,” you laugh, pulling away in an attempt to wipe away the wetness still on your cheeks. Yelena takes your face in her hands, though, and thumbs the tears away for you.
“Are you okay?” She asks, frowning.
“I’m fine. She’ll get over it.”
“So you’re still coming?” The hopefulness in her voice makes your heart swell. You connect her lips with yours without thinking about it, matching her growing smile with one of your own. 
“Of course I am.” You pause. “Why’d you come over, by the way? Not that I’m complaining.”
“Oh!” She looks uncharacteristically sheepish. “My roommate is out until after classes tomorrow. Do you want to come to mine?”
You’ve only been to Yelena’s dorm once when she’d first moved into it. It’s small, but it’s removed enough from Natasha’s circle of friends and acquaintances that you and Yelena might actually get some quality time together without worrying about jumping apart at any sound from the hallway.
It’s changed a lot since then. Yelena’s roommate is the studious type - Maria Rambeau is her name - and her mother was in the air force; her side of the room has all sorts of cool pictures of her mom and Maria as a child. She’s also on the lacrosse team with Yelena, or so you’re told, so the two get along pretty well.
Yelena’s side of the room couldn’t be more different. Where Maria keeps her things tidy and organized, Yelena’s more of the ‘organized chaos’ type. Sure, things are haphazardly thrown about, but everything has a place and you’ve no doubt she could find anything in her half of the room. It’s also pretty obvious where the dividing line is, too, which makes you laugh because the same thing had been the case when she and Natasha shared a room as kids.
(For years - until you and Natasha were fifteen, actually - Yelena couldn’t sleep alone. You think it has to do with the orphanage in Russia, but you’ve never pried and you don’t plan on it.)
She unceremoniously shoves her folded laundry off of her bed and into the basket they’d certainly just been pulled out of. You take your spot closest to the wall while the blonde grabs her laptop.
She doesn’t hesitate to wrap an arm around your shoulders once she joins you, and you lean into her without question. It’s strange, how quickly you’ve adapted to this. It’s like you and Yelena were just always meant to be this way. Inevitable. Your dirty little secret has become a bad habit, and you can’t get enough of it.
Yelena, to her credit, at least gets through the first twenty minutes of the movie before she starts peppering kisses along the fading hickeys on your neck. You pretend not to notice at first, dedicatedly staring at the screen even when her kisses become heavier, more insistent. (She’s cute when she’s impatient.)
Eventually, your indifference makes her growl a little in frustration and you can’t resist laughing.
“What’s the matter?” You ask, feigning innocence. 
Yelena arches an eyebrow at you. Very much an, ‘are you serious right now?’ look. “Oh, we’re playing this game, now?”
“What ever do you mean, Yelena?” You bat your eyelashes at her. “I’m not doing anything.”
She juts her lip out into a pout. “(Y/N).” 
“Yelena,” you whine mockingly. “If you want something, you should just say it.”
“I want to fuck you.” She grabs one of your hands, guiding it into her lap. You freeze when you feel it. 
“Have you been packing that this entire time?” You breathe, suddenly sounding hoarse.
Yelena grins. “Maybe.”
She’s mentioned her strap once or twice in passing, but usually you went at it like rabbits whenever you were alone in your apartment together. You haven’t exactly had the time to go out and buy one yourself, but Yelena apparently bought one a few days after you started your… thing. 
It’s a little bigger than you’re used to, but you think you’ll manage seeing as Yelena’s favorite pastime is bringing you to the edge and easing you away from it just before you could reach it. 
In minutes, she’s tearing off your clothes, the laptop set precariously aside. It’s easy to fall into this, easy to succumb to the tender kisses and the promises of pleasure she brands into your skin with every touch and kiss. It’s getting easier to ignore the guilt, too. Too easy, probably. 
Maybe, part of you thinks, maybe Natasha will be less angry when she finds out just how deep you’re in it with Yelena. Not that you and the blonde talk about it very much, but there’s something heavier and needier in your interactions than just lust. Something deeper. You have a feeling Yelena is waiting for you; always, she’s waiting for you. She’s too patient with you. You haven’t taken the first step in your entire fucking life.
Your thoughts are interrupted when Yelena bites down on your inner thigh, earning a mixture of a hiss and a groan. You look down at her, meeting her gaze. The warmth in her eyes is almost too much to bear.
“Eyes on me,” she instructs.
Yelena has learned every inch of your body and exactly where to touch you to make you weak with pleasure. Her tongue is the perfect weapon, bringing you to near-tears until she stops suddenly. You gape at her in distress, whimpering while she chuckles at you.
“Patience, malyshka. I don’t want to hurt you.” Yelena eases herself on top of you again, kissing you gently while the tip of the strap prods against your entrance, then your clit. Your hips twitch impatiently. Yelena grabs them with one hand and pins them to the bed easily, preventing any movement much to your dismay. 
“Yelena,” you whine. “Please.”
“Aw, but I like watching you like this.” She rubs against your clit again, slowly, tantalizingly. “So desperate for me, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” you breathe. “I’m desperate for you. Please just fuck me.”
Yelena hums, slowly easing the strap inside of you. Your breath catches and Yelena places kisses on your neck, cheek, and then lips while reminding you to breathe. Yelena likes to fuck you roughly, sure, but there are so many little moments like this where she’s so gentle with you that it reminds you, sharply, of how much she actually cares about you. (And how much you’re starting to realize you care about her.)
When you’re adjusted to the size, you give Yelena an almost imperceptible nod and she begins thrusting inside of you. You always thought that people who said sex with someone you’re deeply fond of was better, but every time you have sex with Yelena your disbelief is put to scrutiny. It’s just better, you can’t explain it. Something in the way Yelena watches your face for signs of discomfort, or signs of pleasure; or maybe it’s the way that, even when she starts pounding into you with purpose, she always - always - kisses you like you’re the only thing in this world that matters.
Yelena grabs one of your legs and hitches it around her waist, finding a spot deeper inside that makes you see stars. You’d been trying your best to keep quiet - you’re certain these dorms aren’t perfectly soundproof - but this completely breaks that willpower. You’re keening, back arching high as your hips twitch helplessly in Yelena’s grip and your nails rake down her spine. The blonde is glowing with this small victory, hissing in either pain or pleasure or probably both.
“You look so pretty, spread out for me,” she murmurs, biting teasingly at your earlobe. “Like you were made to take my cock like this.”
You let out a harsh breath when her fingers find your clit, releasing your hips as her other arm supports her weight. “Fuck! I’m- Yelena I’m close-”
“I know,” she hums, examining your neck with pride. “You know how to earn it, malyshka.”
“Please,” you rasp obediently, “please, Yelena. I need to- I’m so close I- please let me-”
You’re cut off by an animalistic moan as the blonde pounds into you, the breath knocked clean out of your body. She leans back enough to look at your face, your eyes threatening to close as you barely hang onto the edge.
“Look at me,” she purrs. You force your eyes open again. “That’s it. Good girl. Cum for me. Go on, that’s it…”
Your orgasm quakes through you, sending you into a series of whimpering moans of her name. She murmurs in Russian, encouragement you think; it doesn’t really matter what she’s saying, honestly, because it’s always so fucking hot when she does that. 
While Yelena slows down, you happen to glance over her shoulder at the mirror that just so happens to be at the foot of the bed. When you notice how flushed you are - how completely, utterly wild you look - beneath Yelena’s rocking body, you feel an unexpected wave of arousal.
Yelena pauses in her thrusts, following your gaze perhaps out of instinct, and when she looks back at you she’s got a shiteating grin on her face.
“You like watching me fuck you?” She asks, almost sounding impressed. You nod mutely, blushing out of embarrassment. “Well, why don’t we give you a better look, krasotka?” She pulls out of you unexpectedly, the sensation causing you to gasp. “Hands and knees for me. Face the mirror.”
You aren’t a narcissistic person. You aren’t even the type to gawk at yourself in the mirror for that long when getting ready. Yelena brings a lot - a lot - out in you. You find yourself following her orders without question, body practically buzzing with anticipation.
When she pushes into you again, Yelena is relentless. Ruthless. You can hear the shitty old twin bed groaning with every thrust but you don’t care. You can’t tear your eyes away from the image of Yelena pounding into you, fingers bruising your hips, her cheeks flushed and eyes dark.
Catching your gaze in the reflection, Yelena grabs a fistful of your hair and pulls. “That’s right, malyshka. Look at me when I fuck you. Look at how beautiful you look, taking me like this. You’re mine, aren’t you?”
“Yes- yes- I’m yours-” you gasp, watching the way your bodies move together. “Fucking hell, Lena-”
“And who makes you cum like this?” She moves a hand to your clit, toying with it almost boredly.
“You! Only you!” Your hips twitch against her movements, all your muscles tensing when she finds that spot deep inside you again. 
“Gonna cum again for me?” Yelena rasps, thrusting harder and faster. “Go on, lyubov’. Cum again.”
Your eyes nearly roll into the back of your head. The wave of pleasure is so intense you swear you actually blackout. Yelena lets you ride it out, pressing kisses on your shoulders and the back of your neck as you struggle to move again. 
When you’re able to breathe, Yelena pulls out and removes the strapon. You connect your lips in a slow, passionate kiss before rolling her onto her back. Your limbs feel like jelly, but that’s fine. You don’t need arms and legs to eat Yelena out.
You’ve come to learn that, while Yelena enjoys fucking you as roughly as she pleases, she prefers softer sex herself. You think she gets off on the intimacy more than the actual sex itself. She likes soft kisses, lingering touches. Her body is an instrument, finely tuned, and you’ve learned just how to play the perfect melody
She doesn’t make much noise, but you revel in the little gasps and moans she makes in your descent down her body. Her body is far more reactive than she is vocal; hips move constantly when you find those sensitive spots of hers. (Her stomach, her thighs, just between her breasts, under her ear-)
Yelena breathes out your name like a prayer when you finally give her what she wants. You suck softly on her clit, looking up to find so much intensity in her green eyes you’re tempted to look away. She always looks so enraptured by you. Like you put the stars in the sky. It’s almost overwhelming.
(Almost.)
But when one of her hands finds yours over the fucked up blanket, fingers slotting between your own, and the other cards through your hair, you feel like - maybe - you’re putting stars in the sky right now. This moment, this little world you’ve created - it’s just for you and Yelena.
Yelena’s hold on your hand tightens. She’s already close. You ease her into her first orgasm with practiced precision. You don’t slow down, moving your free hand to press two fingers inside of her. She keens at the sensation, eyes never leaving yours.
When she comes again, she pulls you up to her mouth so she can kiss you hard. It’s a lazy, slow kiss that makes your heart ache and sing all at once. After a few moments, Yelena pulls her blanket around the both of you. You lay your head on her shoulder, feeling so tired you can barely think.
Sleep, as it always mercifully does when you’re next to Yelena, comes surprisingly easy.
- - - - -
You wake up only a few hours later. You have to get back home before Natasha’s last class finishes up. You get dressed reluctantly, mind still a little slow and body far less willing to leave Yelena’s side. The blonde offers to walk you out and it’s damn near impossible to resist those eyes of hers. She even gives you one of her hoodies again, taking back the other one (“Now it smells like you, take this one.”) 
You’re in such a doofy, happy haze you don’t notice someone saying your name until you feel Yelena’s entire body go RIGID. Alarmed, you turn around to find Carol - yes, that Carol - hurrying towards you with that puppydog grin of hers. Yelena immediately has an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close against her. If looks could kill, Carol Danvers would be on the floor in an instant.
“Hey, Carol,” you greet, forcing a smile. “Sorry about- uh, that um-”
“It’s fine,” she shrugs it off like it really is nothing. “I was actually going to ask you why Natasha thinks we’re dating?”
Your jaw drops. “She- she thinks what?”
Carol glances at Yelena nervously, but you’re pretty sure it’s not out of fear. “She was asking me how things were going with us.”
“W-what did you say to her?”
“I said you were probably too busy for a relationship.” She looks at Yelena’s arm around you. “But I see that I was wrong in that assumption.”
“It’s… a weird story. C-can you do me a favor and, um, not tell Natasha about… this?”
Carol looks between you and Yelena several times. You can’t read her expression, but it’s certainly more surprised than it had been when she initially saw you and Yelena together. “She… doesn’t know?”
“Not exactly.”
“Your own best friend doesn’t know that you’re dating her little sister?”
You cringe. “It’s-”
“A weird story?” Carol nods, looking immensely uncomfortable. “Uh, yeah, sure, I’ll keep it under wraps. Only ‘cause Yelena is our best addition to the team and I can’t have her hating her captain before we even start the season.” She gives the younger woman a casual smile. Yelena relaxes ever so slightly, but she doesn’t remove her arm. “But you should probably say something to her sooner rather than later. Y’know, kinda like how you should tell people you’re into someone else before you give them your number?” At your expression, she snorts with laughter. “I’m kidding! It’s fine. I could tell you weren’t all that into it. I thought you were just getting over a breakup or something.” 
“Well, this was a fun chat.” Yelena clears her throat. “Bye, Danvers.”
“Later, Belova. (Y/N).” The two women share a respectful nod in departure.
You wait until you’re in the stairwell to kiss Yelena on the cheek. “Look at you, being all jealous again.”
“Can you blame me? She was obsessed with you.” Yelena scoffs, but there’s a smile fighting at her lips.
“She texted me like three times and it was to make sure I made it home alive when I ditched her at a club.” You roll your eyes.
You make it to the ground level, and Yelena pauses.
“Do you think she was right?” She asks.
You frown. “About what?”
“Telling Natasha.”
You feel like you’ve been punched in the gut. The thought of losing Natasha hits you full-force. She’ll never forgive you for this. This is her sister - her baby sister - and you’re sneaking around with her. 
“(Y/N)?” Yelena presses.
“I don’t know,” you admit, a lump rising in your throat. “I-I mean, we’ll have to eventually, right?”
Yelena studies your face for a long moment. “Is there a problem with that?”
You feel something hot stinging at your eyes. You blink it away. “Besides losing my best friend?”
“You won’t lose anybody.” Yelena takes your face in her hands. Ever tender, her eyes warm and expression soft. “I won’t let that happen.”
“You can’t promise that, Lena,” you lean into her touch, closing your eyes to hide the stupid tears rising in them. “You guys are all I have, you know?”
“I know.” She presses a kiss to your forehead. “And so does she.”
“Not yet. Please?” You meet her gaze again, desperate for that warmth. “I’m not- I’m not ready for-”
“Okay,” she kisses you gently. “Not yet.”
(You wonder how long you can make this ‘not yet’ last.)
- - - - -
“I had the weirdest conversation with Carol today,” Natasha says casually, sitting beside you on the couch and propping her feet up on the coffee table.
“Oh?” You ask, trying to sound a million times less anxious than you’re suddenly feeling. You keep your gaze on the TV, not even caring about whatever it is this week’s baking challenges are. “What was it about?”
“She says you guys haven’t talked since you ditched us at Woody’s.” Natasha is definitely not buying this. At all.
“Oh,” you clear your throat. “Yeah, we, uh, haven’t.”
“Which is weird, ‘cause I could’ve sworn the next day you had a million hickeys on your neck.” She pauses. You can feel yourself starting to sweat. “And you’ve got a few more today.” She’s pawing at the collar of your shirt so you swat her hand away irritably.
“Am I not allowed to have a fuckbuddy?” You ask lamely. 
“Of course you are! It’s just weird that you feel like you need to hide it from me, that’s all.” Natasha eyes you for a long, long moment. You should just do it now, get it over with. So what if there are no witnesses to whatever crime she decides to commit against you. “Do you not trust me or something?”
“No!” You look at her fully now, well-aware that the blood has drained from your face. “Of course I trust you, Nat! You’re my best friend.”
“So why all the secrecy?” She presses. “Is it someone I know?”
“D-does it matter?”
“I guess not.” She pauses, then looks down at your shirt. “Oh, are they on the lacrosse team with Yelena?” You must look really fucking stupid, because Natasha takes this as confirmation. “You can’t tell me you’re keeping it from me ‘cause Yelena had a crush on you all those years ago!”
“W-what?” You croak, suddenly able to breathe.
“You didn’t know?” Natasha snorts, leaning back against the cushions. “I thought it was pretty obvious. Doesn’t help that her first ‘real’ girlfriend was like a spitting image of you.” She scoffs, shaking her head. “It was cute, though. Her first crush.” She nudges you with her shoulder so you laugh awkwardly.
“I had no idea,” you offer. 
You are a really, really shitty friend. (And, probably, an even shittier girlfriend.)
- - - - -
“(Y/N)! Look at you, dorogoy, you’ve grown so big!” Melina exclaims as she pulls you into a tight embrace. You return it eagerly, burying your face in her shoulder and laughing with delight.
“Melina! It’s been too long!” You release her just as Alexei pulls you into a hug. He reeks like motor oil, though he’s done his best to clean up for the occasion. He likes to work on old cars in the garage - or, he used to, and it seems like he hasn’t given that hobby up yet despite being terrible at it. (Lucky for him, Melina is often there to help.)
“We have all the food ready and waiting for you girls- you must be Wanda! Natasha has told me so much about you!” Melina moves onto the other dinner guest as Natasha moans about not embarrassing her. 
You follow Alexei and Yelena into the kitchen where all three of you promptly grab a bottle of beer and clink them together before drinking.
“So, (Y/N),” Alexei begins, eyeing you with joy. “Has my daughter told you about-”
“Dad,” Yelena warns, but is promptly ignored.
“-the time I went ice fishing with my father?”
“Please stop!” Yelena yelps, grabbing your hand. “She doesn’t need to hear that story!” She begins dragging you away, her father’s booming laughter following you into the dining room.
“Is that the one where his dad pees on him?” You ask, chuckling.
“Yes.” Yelena groans, blushing hard. “I told them not to be embarrassing but with Wanda I think they’re both determined to turn over all the dirty family secrets.” She mutters a curse in Russian, causing your laughter to bubble back up.
“I like your parents,” you tell her, grinning. “I wish mine were this fun.”
Yelena gives you a sympathetic smile. “I don’t see his car outside. I don’t think he’s home.”
You shrug. “He’s probably at the bar. He’ll be home later, though.”
“And you’ll be here.” Yelena hasn’t let go of your hand. She squeezes it now, the most PDA you’re both willing to risk at the moment. “I wish I could have protected you then. Did Natasha ever tell you about how I almost went over to your house with my lacrosse stick?”
“No.” You blink in surprise. “When was that?”
“When you first told us… about…” She winces, and so do you. “I just picked it right up and stormed to the front door after you’d left. I was terrified he would hurt you again. Furious at the thought of it.” She breathes out an almost disbelieving laugh. “I think, even then, I knew-” she cuts herself off, looking alarmed.
“Knew what?” You press.
Yelena opens her mouth to respond, but the conversation of Melina, Natasha, and Wanda cuts her off. You drop her hand, nearly jumping away from her as you take a long swig from your beer. (You don’t miss the wounded look Yelena sends you.)
The rest of the meal is spent jovially, but you can sense something is off with Yelena. She’s quieter than usual, less willing to join in the conversation. Natasha must notice, too, because she sends several concerned glances towards the blonde.
Natasha and Yelena still shared the one room, but the guest room was offered for Natasha and Wanda to share while you and Yelena took the girls’ childhood bedroom. You fall into bed a little tipsy, but being in such close proximity to your alcoholic father has you on edge tonight.
Even worse, Yelena hasn’t said much since she entered the room five minutes after you. You were already in your pajamas, laying on Natasha’s bed staring up at the little glow in the dark stars that they had all over their ceiling for as long as you could remember. There’s also a very distinct tiny handprint from one of those sticky hands Yelena had thrown up there when she was nine. It took a full year for it to come down, subsequently scaring the shit out of Natasha when she was sleeping.
“Is everything okay?” You ask when she begins to undress. 
“Why wouldn’t it be?” Her clipped tone tells you that no, everything is not okay.
“I don’t know. Why don’t you tell me so we can talk about it?” You offer, sitting up.
She finishes getting into her pajamas in stony silence. You wait quietly, but your heart is roaring in your ears. What have you done wrong? “We don’t ever talk about things. Why are we starting now?”
“Where is this coming from?” You frown. “Yelena, just tell me-”
“Does this mean anything to you?” The question shocks you to the core. Yelena turns to face you and to your absolute alarm there are TEARS in her eyes. You haven’t seen Yelena cry since that day your mom drove you away from here. She gestures between you, apparently taking your silence as misunderstanding. “Us. Does this mean anything to you?”
“Of course it does.” You keep your tone low, eyeing the bedroom door warily. Wanda and Natasha were just down the hall. Melina may not care about overhearing and Alexei sleeps like the dead. “Why do you think it doesn’t?”
“You still haven’t told Natasha.”
You flinch. “I-”
“If this meant anything to you, you wouldn’t want to keep hiding it. Hiding us. We can’t keep this a secret forever and Natasha is my sister. I want to tell her how happy you make me. I want to go out on dates, show the world that you’re mine.” She pauses, sounding timid all of a sudden. “Don’t you want that for us?” The way her voice cracks brings hot tears to the edges of your eyes.
“Of course I do,” you swallow thickly around the lump in your throat. “I want that. I do.” You hate yourself. “But I don’t want to lose Natasha over this. Your family - it’s the only family I care about.”
“You won’t lose Natasha.”
“You can’t promise that.”
“You can’t promise that you’ll lose her, either.”
As usual, Yelena is her most convincing when she sounds so sure of herself. So confident. Has she ever doubted anything in her life? (Yes, you realize, she has. Your feelings for her. Because you’re an asshole.)
“Okay,” you relent softly. “I’ll tell her.”
“When?”
“I don’t know. Tomorrow? Just- let me think about what to say to her. Please, Lena.” 
Yelena takes a slow, steadying breath. Her shoulders rise with the action as her eyes clench shut. You bite the inside of your cheek, hoping beyond all hope that she isn’t going to do what you’re most terrified of. (With a shock, you suddenly realize that losing Yelena is possibly more painful that losing Natasha.)
“I’ve waited this long,” she murmurs at last, opening her eyes. “I can wait a little longer.”
She just looks defeated. 
(You hate that you’re the reason she looks like that.)
- - - - -
You don’t sleep well that night. It has to be the fact that your father is a few houses away, but the nightmares keep waking you up to the point that you just end up staring at the glow in the dark stars again. In the years that have passed, their light is dimmed. Still, you can make them out enough to count them.
After your sixth attempt at sleep, Yelena’s voice cuts through the darkness:
“Come over here.”
You slip under her blanket, enveloping yourself in her smell and clinging to her embrace. She chuckles when you shiver from your brief trip through the cold distance between the beds. You get comfortable in her arms, wrapping your own around her so you can bury your face in her shoulder. You let silence surround you for several long minutes, listening instead to her breathing and her heart. 
“Yelena?” Your voice must startle her. Her heart picks up the pace. “You know I’m in love with you, right?”
If she didn’t stiffen so much, you’d assume she hadn’t heard you. She nudges you gently so you prop yourself up on an elbow, looking down at her. You wish you could see her more clearly.
“You love me?” She asks in disbelief.
“Of course I do.” You inhale shakily. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel like this didn’t mean anything to me. It does. It means… it means a lot to me. You mean a lot to me.”
Her hold on you tightens, and so does her embrace. “I know you’re scared of losing Natasha.” She pauses considerably. “And maybe she’ll be mad. But- she’ll come around. Friendships like that don’t just end.”
You sigh, press a sleepy kiss to her neck. “I hope you’re right.”
Silence.
You’re just on the edge of sleep when Yelena says, “(Y/N)?” You hum in question. “You know that I’ve been in love with you since forever, right?”
You smile, unable to help yourself. “I know.”
- - - - -
You wake up to soft kisses being pressed all over your cheek, forehead, chin, nose - it takes you several long minutes to give in and open your eyes. Yelena is smiling lovingly at you, her eyes shining in the morning light. 
You return the smile, smoothing some of her messy hair away from her face. “Morning.”
“Morning,” she kisses you sweetly. 
You spend the next ten minutes or so just laying there, holding each other. Sometimes you kiss lazily, but mostly you just grin at each other like idiots and bask in the delicate world you built for yourselves. You can’t believe how stubborn you’d been about these feelings before. They’re so beautiful, so wonderful and they make you so happy you could cry.
“I love you,” you tell her quietly.
“I love you, too,” Yelena murmurs, kissing you with more purpose.
Your hands find themselves under her shirt, fingers tracing her spine while her own hands pull you on top of her. You straddle her waist, biting back a surprised noise when you feel her squeeze your ass.
“Your family’s probably downstairs,” you whisper.
Yelena rolls her eyes. “You can’t be quiet?”
You blush. “You know you don’t let me stay quiet.”
She chuckles, grinning wickedly. “Fair point.”
“And we should tell Natasha before she overhears us getting it on in here.” You kiss her again slowly. She hums thoughtfully against your lips.
“Fine.”
You slip off of her and you both get dressed with several shared glances and giggles and kisses. It’s hard to separate when you leave the room. From the kitchen, you hear idle chatter. Once ready, you and Yelena head downstairs to join the rest of the family for breakfast.
Over the food, you and Yelena once again share glances and smiles. Natasha is certainly picking up on something. You can sense it, the way her eyes keep moving between you, Yelena, and whatever gears are turning in her mind.
You decide that it’s probably better to do this in front of the family. Why wait to make the announcement of your relationship to them? You wish you could broadcast it to the world. It’s a shame Wanda has to be here for it, though, because you truly have no idea how this is going to end.
It’s when the dishes are starting to be cleared by Melina, Alexei, and Wanda that the subject is brought up, but not by you or Yelena.
“So, how long have you been sneaking around to fuck my sister?” Natasha says it so casually you actually choke on your coffee. 
“Natasha!” Melina scolds from the kitchen. The house is suddenly so silent, you swear you hear a few leaves falling outside. 
“W-what?” You stammer, going pale. Yelena looks between you and Natasha, her hand automatically finding yours under the table. 
It’s the calmness in Natasha’s expression that frightens you most. She looks at you evenly, almost emotionlessly. “How long have you and Yelena been going behind my back?”
“Nat,” Wanda begins, but Natasha shakes her head sharply.
“No. I want to know how long my best friend thought it was appropriate to sleep with my sister without telling me.”
“Natasha,” you begin shakily. 
“Girls-” Melina warns, stepping into the doorway. 
“How long were you lying to my face?” Natasha continues, standing slowly. You stand, too, and so does Yelena, who never disconnects your hands. Natasha eyes them with little to no change to her expression. “Well?”
“Since… since right before school started.” You admit. “The night I left you guys at that club.”
It happens so fast you don’t even register that Natasha had moved. There’s just a stinging in your nose, your eyes watering as the crack rings in your ears. Several voices shout Natasha’s name, and then Yelena’s as the blonde grabs her sister and pushes her against the doorframe beside Melina.
You reach out to grab Yelena, but to your amazement your face is spewing blood. Your hands fly to your nose again, the liquid flowing freely from it. Well, yeah, this is pretty much how you saw this going.
“Nat, I’m sorry-” You start.
“You’re only sorry because you got caught.” Natasha snaps, shoving her sister off of her. Alexei intervenes, now, murmuring his daughter’s name. She backs away from him, glaring at you. “You lied to me. For weeks. For months.”
“I didn’t mean to-”
“Didn’t mean to what? Fuck my sister or lie to me about it?”
“Both? I don’t know!” Tears are freely falling from your eyes, now, but you aren’t sure if it’s from the pain in your nose or the anguish of the situation. “It just- it just happened and then I fell in love with her and-”
Yelena stops the next punch with surprising speed and strength. Alexei cuts in between the two before Natasha can reconsider the next swing’s target. You stay rigid in your spot, unable to move or speak.
“Fuck this.” Natasha backs away from her family and turns on her heels to walk out the front door. “And fuck you.” She throws over her shoulder, slamming the front door so hard it shakes.
Wanda is the first to react to this, though a handful of silent seconds go by. “I’m gonna go talk to her.” She stands, looks at you with sympathy. “She doesn’t mean that. I know she doesn’t.” She pauses, looking towards the door again. “She’s been suspecting it for a while.”
You don’t respond. You just let the awkward silence settle until the Sokovian is out the door and you’re left alone with Yelena, Melina and Alexei. 
Seemingly remembering your injury, Yelena rushes to your side again and gently moves your hands away from your nose. You hiss in pain as she examines the damage closely.
“I think it’s broken,” she notes, eyes watery with unshed tears. “(Y/N), I’m so sorry, I didn’t think-”
“It’s okay,” you sound nasally. Ridiculous. “It’s okay, Lena.”
“I’m sorry about Natasha.” Melina snaps into mother mode in an instant. “Let me get you something for that.”
You wish everyone would stop apologizing. They shouldn’t be. This punch is very much well-deserved. If anything, this was an undrreaction by Natasha’s standards.
“It’s fine,” you reply uselessly, because Melina is already off to get medical supplies and Alexei is staring between you and Yelena with wide eyes.
“So… you two…?” He asks.
Shyly, you nod. Yelena seems relieved by this answer, releasing her hold on your cheeks to wrap her arms around you. 
“I’m getting blood on you,” you frown.
“I don’t care. I’m so sorry.” She kisses your forehead. “I shouldn’t have forced you to-”
“You didn’t force me to do anything,” you pull back from the embrace to look her in the eyes. “I wanted to do this. Well- not this, specifically.”
“She punched you in the face,” Yelena’s bottom lip trembles. The surefire sign that she’s about to start crying. Now your hands find themselves at her cheeks, thumbs smoothing away the tears just beginning to fall. You lean your forehead against hers. She looks terrified. 
“I know,” you sniffle, wincing at the pain the action causes. “It’s fine.”
“No, it’s-”
“Put this on your face,” Melina is holding a pack of frozen peas and a rag in her hands. You pull away from Yelena, accepting the objects. Melina grabs your forehead and tilts your head around, looking closely at your nose. “It doesn’t look too bad. Definitely broken, though.”
You let her manhandle your face, cleaning the blood off while Yelena says something about getting you a different shirt. She returns with one of her own, apparently not thinking about it, and she almost freezes when she gives it to you. You accept it gratefully and excuse yourself to the bathroom.
The second - the instant - the door shuts, it’s like everything crashes down around you. Natasha knows. Natasha knew. She had possibly been waiting for you to say something, which any good friend would have done. You’ve been lying to her. You never lied to her before. And the first lie you tell her is this. 
You are awful.
You try to keep the stupid sobs quiet when you change out of the bloodied shirt and press the rag to your nose. The blood is already starting to slow down, so that’s something, at least. Still, the pain of it is incomparable to the hollow aching feeling in your chest.
Your stupid phone starts to ring in your pocket. You take it out, answering in a stuffy-sounding tone. “Hello?”
“(Y/N)? Your father called me. He knows you're in Ohio.” Your mother doesn’t often sound worried for you - at least, not in any capacity that doesn’t come off as totally forced an artificial - but she sounds genuinely afraid. “What happened? Are you alright?”
“I’m fine, mom,” you look at yourself in the mirror, looking anything but fine.
“Stay inside.” 
“Okay.”
Pause.
“Are you sure you’re alright?”
“Mom, I don’t want to talk about it right now,” your voice wavers. You hate when she gets like this almost as much as you hate when she acts like you’re an ungrateful child. There’s always that stupid part of you that believes she’ll stay like this, stay like she cares, but you always - always - remember those months she left you behind. You’ll never forgive her for that. (Especially not when she won’t even admit that she’d done anything wrong.)
“Okay.” It comes out a little colder, but not quite what you’re used to. “Call me when you get back to college, okay?” 
“Yeah, sure,” you sigh. 
“I love you, (Y/N).” 
“Love you too, mom.” You hang up and take several slow breaths. You can’t hide forever. Time to find Natasha and face her. She’s already gotten the worst out of her system.
You wait until your cheeks aren’t as red and your eyes not as puffy, splashing some cold water on your face and carefully avoiding the areas that sting at any slight touch.
You turn the knob and almost slam right into Yelena. 
“You’re crying,” she says immediately.
You blink up at her. It hits you just how much you love her. It’s so intense, you’re nearly knocked off your feet. No matter what happens with Natasha - this, this, is worth it. She’s worth it. Natasha might never speak to you again, but losing Yelena is, at this point, unfathomable. This is your family. Yelena, Alexei, Melina - yes, Natasha, too. Even if she hates your guts forever.
Instead of explaining yourself, you just lean up to kiss her. It surprises her, you think, because she takes a beat longer to respond than usual. Kissing hurts a little, though, so you pull back and try to mask the pain. Of course, ever vigilant of your wellbeing, Yelena notices and holds the stupid pack of frozen peas to your nose with careful attention.
“I’m gonna talk to her,” you state softly, moving your hand to cover Yelena’s over the pack of peas. 
“I’ll come with you.” Yelena offers, but you shake your head.
“No. I have to talk to her alone.” 
Yelena looks ready to argue, but thinks better of it and nods hesitantly. “Fine. But… at least keep your phone with you.”
“She’s not gonna beat me to a pulp, Lena,” you laugh. “I think she got enough of her anger out with that one punch.”
“I’ll make her pay for that.” Yelena says darkly and you roll your eyes.
“No, it’s fine. I deserved that.”
“No-”
“We’ve been lying to her, Yelena. You know how she feels about lying.” You sigh. 
Yelena frowns, but doesn’t argue. 
When Melina deems your nose safe enough to travel with, you take off after Natasha. You know exactly where she’d be, because it’s where she always goes when she’s upset. The park isn’t far from her house, either.
Sure enough, she and Wanda are sitting on the old swing set, feet dragging idly on the mulch. When you approach, they stop talking and Wanda stands up. She makes some kind of excuse, but you don’t hear it as you wither under the glare of Natasha.
Hesitantly, you take the spot Wanda had once occupied and mindlessly move yourself back and forth. Natasha doesn’t speak, so you don’t either. You just sit in silence, your nose throbbing without the pack of peas.
Finally, Natasha breaks the silence: “Why didn’t you just tell me?”
You look at your feet, afraid of what emotions her face might show. “I was… scared. I thought you’d hate me, I guess.”
“I don’t hate you.” Those words are enough to make you weak with relief. You feel tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, but you shove them away and keep your gaze steadily downward. “But I’m pissed that you didn’t say anything.”
“She’s your sister, Nat,” you finally look up at her. She looks hurt. “I thought you’d assume the worst.”
“Why would I ever assume the worst with you?” Natasha shakes her head, exasperated. “Honestly, I had a feeling something was up when Carol told me you guys never hooked up. Yelena’s been acting happier than usual. Completely different from how she was when I left for college. Then I thought you were wearing her top, but she’s got so many stupid band shirts it’s hard to keep track…” She scoffs, almost amused. “I should have known, but I thought you’d at least be a decent friend and give me a heads up if you were even interested in Yelena.”
You cringe. “I know. I’m sorry. I really should have told you but it happened so fast-” you stop yourself, blushing furiously. “I thought it was just, y’know, for fun or whatever but-”
“Watch it,” Natasha warns, narrowing her eyes. “That’s my sister.”
“Right,” you croak. “I just- I thought I needed to just, scratch an itch. But it just didn’t go away, and I couldn’t stop thinking about her, and I felt so guilty because I knew hiding it from you was wrong but I didn’t know how to tell you and-”
“(Y/N),” Natasha holds up a hand and you flinch. The guilt on her face is gut-wrenching. She grabs the chain of her swing. “I don’t want you to ever feel like you can’t trust me. You’re my best friend. Of course I want you to be happy. And Yelena is my sister. I want her to be happy, too. I want you both to be with someone you deserve.” At your pained, fearful expression, she quickly adds, “And I do think you deserve each other. In the best way.” You let out a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding, and Natasha snorts. 
“Seriously,” she says, “Lena has had a crush on you since we were kids. I’m surprised it took this long to happen. I can see how much happier you make her, even if I didn’t know what the source of that happiness was ‘til now.”
“Nat-”
“Even you seem different.” She observes you with a new sort of expression, almost admiringly. “You seem lighter. When we reconnected, you were still the same lost kid who didn’t know what to do besides what her mom told her. I can see how much easier it is on you, now.”
You actually feel yourself crying. It’s so dumb, you hate crying in front of others. Natasha slides off of her swing to pull you into a hug. You return it happily, heart swelling.
“I’m sorry,” you mutter guiltily. “I should have told you. I knew the whole time that I should have told you. But I was a coward.”
“You were,” Natasha agrees. When she pulls back from the hug, she looks at your nose. “How’s your face?”
“Broken.”
“I’m not sorry.”
“That’s fair.”
Pause.
“But we’re okay?” You ask, just because you can’t ever get over the fear of losing someone you care about.
“We’re okay,” Natasha confirms. 
She returns to her swing.
It’s almost like when you were kids again.
- - - - -
The walk back to Natasha’s house was spent in companionable conversation. She asks you a little bit about your relationship and intentions with Yelena - she does, in fact, threaten your life if you dare break Yelena’s heart but you assure her that’s nowhere in the cards. You’re in it to win it, as far as you’re concerned, and Natasha agrees that you’ve already won it.
The entire family is waiting in the living room. They must have been talking before you returned, because the silence is unbearable. Finally, you tell them everything is fine, and they all seem to breathe a bit easier. Melina mentions always seeing you as a daughter, Alexei tells you he couldn’t approve more.
At the end of the night, you find yourself back in Yelena’s arms in her childhood bed.
In the darkness, your only focus is the steadying beat of her heart that always picks up when you lean your head against her chest. You can’t ever be certain what awaits you in the future - you don’t even care anymore. As long as you have her by your side, that’s all that matters.
“Yelena?” You ask. She hums. “I love you.”
The blonde wakes up enough to press a loving kiss to your forehead. “I love you, too.”
Maybe - just maybe - everything is going to turn out okay.
~part 3~
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