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roommate | w.a

Pairing: Wednesday Addams X reader

Status: request

A/n: i come back?

Wednesday season 2

"You must be the new roommate?" murmured a girl with a cheerful tone.

Y/n raised an eyebrow slightly, jaw tight, nose wrinkled. Her y/c eyes slid from the room—split in two by a ribbon—back to the girl who had spoken. She blinked, eyeing her with curiosity: A full-toothed smile, bright blue eyes, blonde hair streaked with purple, pink and blue.

Too cheerful, Y/n thought. She looks like she crawled out of a bad sitcom. That last thought tugged the corners of her lips into a small, amused smile.

"Yeah, I'm Y/n Y/l/n," she muttered, forcing a smile in an attempt to appear friendly. The girl squealed with excitement, bouncing toward her. Her blonde hair swayed with her light steps and Y/n felt nearly overwhelmed by her energy. "Nice to meet you! I'm Enid Sinclair, one of your roommates!" she exclaimed, her smile unwavering.

She extended her arm, offering a handshake.

Y/n frowned, letting her gaze travel from the girl’s outstretched left arm up to her face, watching the smile falter as the silence stretched. It doesn’t take much to shake her, Y/n thought. She already feels awkward holding her arm out. Impressive. Y/n pressed her tongue against the inside of her cheek, then popped it against her palate. She bit her lower lip, suppressing a smirk and finally ended the torture. She extended her right arm and took the girl’s hand, giving it a firm shake.

Enid let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.

Y/n watched her with mild amusement, then let her gaze drift down to study the girl’s outfit: a uniform of vertical black and purple stripes, the Nevermore Academy crest proudly sewn onto the left side of her jacket. The jacket was paired with a white blouse, a black bow at the collar, and a pleated skirt.

Fits her perfectly, Y/n thought. A punch of color to the eye.

She let go of Enid's hand and turned her attention to the large room she'd now be living in. A towering gothic-style window dominated the front wall, cut down the center by a black ribbon that split the room into two perfectly contrasting halves—like someone had drawn a precise line between light and shadow. On the left: an explosion of color. Walls covered in bright posters, pastel pillows scattered everywhere, a bed with bubblegum-pink sheets, and decorative fairy lights running along the headboard. Even the air smelled faintly of cotton candy and glitter.On the right: the complete opposite. A neatly made bed with charcoal-gray sheets, a dark desk topped with a typewriter and a stack of books—some old, leather-bound, others piled like a sacred offering. The wardrobe, massive and dark brown, looked more like a sarcophagus than a piece of furniture.

A third bed had been wedged into the corner between the two clashing aesthetics. Neither light nor shadow. A limbo.

Interesting, Y/n mused with a slight smirk. Now I really want to meet the mind behind the gothic side.

"So where are you from? What’s your power? Do you like it here?" Enid asked all at once, her blue eyes sparkling.

Y/n gave her a side glance, then let out a low hum from her throat. "I'm from around here. Telekinesis. Don’t know yet," she replied flatly.

Enid was about to speak again, but the slow, ominous creak of the door interrupted her.Then came the sound—rhythmic, deliberate: slow, heavy, symmetrical footsteps.

Y/n turned toward the entrance, eyebrows furrowed, lips pressed into a thin line. Her breath caught in her throat.

A girl walked in without hesitation, moving toward the dark half of the room with steady, calculated steps. Her hair was pitch black, tied in two neat braids that brushed her collarbones. Her skin, pale as marble, seemed to reflect the gray light streaming through the gothic window. Her posture was stiff, upright, shoulders straight like a soldier’s. She didn’t lift her gaze from the phone in her hands, her black-lacquered nails tapping the screen with surgical precision.

Then—just a flick of her gaze.

Eyes black as obsidian, devoid of emotion.

They landed on Y/n for a heartbeat, slicing through her like a blade, then returned to the phone.

One beat. Two. She resumed typing.

"Wednesday! You're already here?" Enid asked, her voice a pitch higher, full of enthusiasm.

Wednesday sighed—a short, barely audible sound."A group of girls started following me, shouting my name," she muttered in a monotone. "They wanted an autograph."

She paused. "As much as I appreciate being hunted… I consider social interaction a waste of time. And I’d rather gouge out my own eyes with a rusty spoon than sign something for people desperate enough to idolize complete strangers."

Y/n swallowed.

Enid laughed nervously. "Oookay... Anyway, I wanted to introduce you to our new roommate! Wednesday Addams, this is Y/n Y/l/n."

Wednesday froze. The phone slowly slipped into her lap as she turned toward them.She tilted her head—then her body—as if she'd finally found something worth acknowledging.Her eyes scanned Y/n with clinical precision. Cold. Calculated. Unforgiving. She began walking toward her—slow, deliberate steps. Her stride was controlled, unnaturally composed. She looked like a predator studying her prey. Her lips were pressed into a firm line, her gaze unreadable.

Y/n held her breath.

The uniform Wednesday wore—striped dark blazer, white shirt, black tie, fitted vest, and a pleated skirt that brushed her knees—accentuated her slender, austere figure. Her Dr. Martens echoed against the wooden floor, each step heavier than the last. She stopped mere inches from her.

Y/n felt her palms dampen, her heart thudding wildly in her chest.

The way Wednesday looked at her made her feel exposed—unwrapped, examined, cataloged. Wednesday tilted her head slightly, studying her like a curious specimen."You said Y/l/n?"Her voice was flat. But her eyes… there was something in them.

"Y-yeah," Y/n replied, her voice barely a whisper, locked into those black eyes. What is going on?

Wednesday pressed her lips together. One step closer. Now their bodies were nearly touching. Y/n noticed the long dark lashes framing those void-like eyes, the air of innocent cruelty betrayed by their intensity. A few freckles dotted her nose and cheeks—small signs of humanity that felt oddly out of place.

"Any relation to Harry Y/l/n?"Her voice remained calm, but the interest beneath was barely restrained.

Oh god, She knows my father, Y/n thought bitterly.She dropped her head slightly, then looked back up.

"He's my father," she muttered. Her voice heavy with the weight of the name.

Enid stiffened."Who’s that?" she asked, clearly confused.

Wednesday didn’t hesitate. "The most brilliant horror writer of our time. His novels turned madness into poetry. And... they’re based on real events."Something flickered in Wednesday’s eyes.

Not emotion. Admiration.Dark. Sincere. Profound.

"He's my favorite writer." A whisper. But honest. A rare spark of genuine intensity glimmered in her obsidian gaze.

"You know he went mad, right?" Y/n murmured, jaw clenched.

Wednesday lifted her chin slightly and the barest hint of a smile touched her lips. "That’s why I admire him."

Y/n's eyes widened, confused—and then she realized she was leaning in.Wednesday’s face was just inches from hers. Her thin fingers gripped the fabric of Y/n's shirt tightly, knuckles white, the hold unyielding.Their breaths mingled. Y/n swallowed hard, her gaze involuntarily flicking to Wednesday’s flawless lips, then back to her eyes.

"I wonder if it’s… hereditary," Wednesday whispered. Then she gave her a gentle push backward.

She straightened her posture, calmly smoothing her blazer as if nothing had happened. Turned toward Enid and walked with composed grace to her desk.

Y/n stood frozen.

What the hell just happened?

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Yelena, in a high voice, holding Barbie: Hey, Ken! I was thinking about going back to school and starting a career!

Ava, in a deep voice, holding Ken: Nonsense, Barbie. You’re staying home and having my kids.

John: What the fuck are you two doing?

Yelena: Playing systemic oppression.

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courtyard- w. maximoff

summary: kids say the most random things, don’t they?

pairing: teacher!wanda x teacher!r

“stop fidgeting so much,” wanda says was the stands beside you, “you’re making me anxious.”

you exhale harshly through your nose, “sorry, i almost lost a kid last time we went on a field trip.”

she tries her best to conceal her laugh with a cough, her shoulders shaking as she tries to turn her body to the side.

you throw your head back and smack her shoulder with a small bit of force, “maximoff, stop.”

today is the first field trip of the year and to say you’re nervous is an understatement.

you spent the past twenty four hours going over signed documents, payment receipts, printed out emails, even recounting money to ensure this field trip went to plan.

you, wanda, and a few other teachers are lined next to the school buses. wanda notices the way you rock back and forth on your heels. she places a gentle hand on your forearm and smiles at you in a comforting manner.

“you’re going to be fine,” she places her sunglasses on the top of her head, “we’re chaperoning the same group, we’ll be fine.”

you nod softly, grateful you were partnered with wanda to chaperone a group of eight students. you exhale softly and calm down.

wanda watches as you ground yourself after she reassures you. she watches the way you count the kids and pop your knuckles out of habit. too absorbed in you, she doesn’t even realize her colleague is watching the interaction in amusement.

soon after, the two of you are sat at the front of the bus en route to the botanical garden. you look out the window at the buildings as you pass, oblivious to the fact that wanda’s been watching you from the corner of her eye.

“you’re staring,” you turn to her with an amused expression, “why?”

wanda shrugs nonchalantly, “just want to make sure you’re not going to pass out before we get there.”

she tries her best to hide her laugh when you give her an offended look, scoffing slightly, “you have such little faith in me and i’m offended.”

after a breath, you let out what she knows you’ve been holding in, “i swear if one of those kids-“

wanda sighs softly, “you’ll freak out and i’ll handle it— as always.”

you purse your lips— she’s not wrong. you tut your head and pout.

she smiles at you, nudging your shoulder with hers, “we make a good pair.”

you laugh softly, nodding softly at her remark— acting as though it didn’t make your heart skip a beat.

you two walk behind your group of students, both counting the eight kids silently and giving each other a slight nod of reassurance every now and then.

luckily, you have a small group who has given no issues. you two stroll close enough to keep an eye on them but far enough to where you two can enjoy the scenery for yourselves.

the bees buzzing around the flowers distract you from the fact that you’re walking close to the woman you’ve grown to like in the past year. the same woman who can’t help but keep glancing in your direction.

the buzzing hums softer and softer as you focus on the students in front of you. you count eight for the fourth time in ten minutes— still eight.

from the corner of your eye you can see wanda smiling at you.

“you’re staring again,” you mumble, not turning to look at her.

wanda lets out a small laugh, turning away and facing forward as you two follow the group.

“just making sure you’re still breathing,” she says softly.

you let out a snort at that, shaking your head slightly in disbelief at the fact that wanda has not much faith in your emotional stability.

“someone has to look out for you, kid.”

lunch time finally rolls around and you are ready to sit down. the hours of walking around and doing scavenger hunt activities wore you down completely.

you’re sat under a purple and white umbrella, a chicken caesar wrap in your hand as you people watch.

“this is why people might think you’re weird, you know?” you hear her voice walking up to you, “you and your staring problems.”

“it’s called being observant, not nosy,” you correct her with an unamused look.

“same thing, different wordage,” she grabs a few of your chips, and gives you a cheeky smile. she knows you wouldn’t ever reprimand her for taking off of your plate.

her black sunglasses are perched atop her head, pushing her hair back and allowing you to study her side profile. her green irises scan the courtyard and count the kids in your group. your fingertips play with each other, a habit you picked up in undergrad— something you absentmindedly do when you’re deep in thought.

you don’t even notice wanda’s eyes are now on you. her head is tilted slightly and her eyebrows are furrowed, “hey, you okay?”

her hand touches yours, gently. her fingers graze the back of your palm, as if she knows it’ll bring you back down to earth.

you regain focus and nod, “yeah, just zoned out.

your voice is soft and far off and wanda can’t help but frown. she gives a short nod, not letting her eyes stray from you for too long.

“miss?” one of your students calls from a few feet behind you.

you turn to the girl, “what’s going on, mads?”

madeleine smiles at you, a mischievous look on her face that you can’t help but groan internally at.

“my friends and i wanted to ask-“

you and wanda look at one another with a nervous look, unsure of what to make of the girl’s tone.

“we were just wondering if you two were dating.”

madeleine leans on one hip, her fingers playing with the charm bracelet on her left wrist in nervous habit.

wanda looks over at you with an expression you can’t quite read. she raises her eyebrows, silently telling you to answer the question.

“madeleine,” your voice is low and firm, “no, we’re not, but that still is not a question to ask your teacher. much less about one of her colleagues.”

madeleine rolls her eyes, “fine, but everyone’s saying it would be cute.”

she walks away, leaving you and wanda to replay the sixteen year old’s words. did the two of you look like you’re dating?

you let out an exasperated sigh, “i’m sorry, wands.”

she smiles at you, a small laugh coming out of her mouth. she shakes her head in disbelief, “at least we know your kids are comfortable coming to you about anything.”

she picks another chip off your plate, “sixteen year olds really hold nothing back.. it’s kind of refreshing.”

you snort, nodding in agreement, “i was the same.”

wanda smiles at the thought of you as a teenager, being unapologetically herself. she looks at you, almost being able to see a younger you with the same dimples.

“it’s not like there’s even anything going on,” a small mumble comes your lips as you fix your lanyard.

wanda smirks in response, she doesn’t say anything immediately. she only nods.

“yeah.. nothing’s happening.”

you force yourself to look away from wanda’s eyes, back to the courtyard. eight. still eight.

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so embarrassing when i forget im checking someone's blog and i start scrolling through and liking and reblogging shit as if it's just my dash. it feels like wandering into someone else's apartment and not noticing and making myself lunch

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One of them will have to get finished eventually, right???

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Teacher’s Pet—Drunk on Jealousy

Synopsis: When Agatha receives a letter from another student, you decide to get shit-faced at a local bar rather than examine your jealousy too closely. Agatha is waiting when you come home.

Warnings: One-shot in a longer “Teacher’s Pet” series! This story mentions drinking, fighting, and is mostly hurt/comfort exploring the evolving dynamic with witch mentor Agatha x witch student reader.

“Another.”

The bartender gave you a doubtful look, but poured the drink and slid it across the glossy oak surface.

You clutched the glass between numb fingers, swirling the amber liquid, then tossed it back in one go.

“There’s only two reasons people drink like this,” he said, idly polishing a beer stein. “Women, or women.”

A bitter laugh bubbled up out of your chest. Your voice was dull when you spoke. “You’re not wrong.”

“You have my condolences then,” he sighed. “Must be quite a lady if you’re hitting the bottle this hard.”

“She is,” you said, ducking your head so he wouldn’t see the glossy shine in your eyes.

“Had a fight, did ya?” He asked. “Harsh words?”

You shook your head. “I think there’s…someone else,” you managed, fighting back bile at the very thought.

You didn’t consider yourself a jealous person. You’d made your own way in this world for many long years before crossing paths with Agatha Harkness.

But living with her, learning magic from her, getting to know the most intimate parts of each other…it had rewired your brain chemistry. And now the thought of someone coming between you, interfering with that, it had sent you spiraling.

He sucked his teeth sympathetically.

“My advice?” He said gently. “Go home. Talk to her.”

You opened your mouth to protest, fingers fiddling with the empty shot glass. He shook his head. “You’ve had enough.”

You gave him an incredulous stare. “You’re cutting me off?”

“I’m doing you a favor,” he laughed. “I’ve seen you in here before. You’re a good kid. Too good for this pity party.”

You sighed. Maybe he was right. This was borderline pathetic, after all. How many drinks had you had?

You stood up on shaky legs, reaching for your wallet to pay. He raised his hand. “On the house,” he said. “Just do me a favor and get home safe.”

He waved as you stumbled toward the door.

The cold night air was bracing. You decided to leave your car in the lot—driving was out of the question. Besides, the walk home would help clear your foggy mind.

Agatha, Agatha, Agatha. That was the only drumbeat, rattling around your skull with every step you took.

You had noticed the letter on her desk a few days ago, glancing at the neat, unfamiliar cursive as you set a hot cup of tea by her elbow. She was poring over an old spell book, long fingers tracing down the page to mark her spot.

She didn’t look up when you placed the cup beside her, but she hummed in distracted appreciation at the honeyed smell. “Thanks, pet,” she murmured, a smile pulling the corners of her mouth. “You’re too good to me.”

You placed a hand on her shoulder, giving her a light squeeze, relishing the way her eyes fluttered closed as you applied pressure to the knot near her neck.

“Distracting,” she sighed, refocusing on the page.

You returned your attention to the letter. Something about it made you uneasy.

You’d always had a talent for pickpocketing—it was how you’d survived before finding a home with Agatha—and you easily slipped the letter off the crowded desk. Upstairs, scanning it more fully, you realized it contained an apocalypse, an undoing.

How could a single piece of paper cause so much destruction?

A loud shout interrupted your drunken musings. Up ahead, a group of young men were spilling out of a club. As you passed, one shouldered into you roughly.

“Whoa,” he said. “Watch where you’re going.”

You were itching for a fight, could practically feel the reckless, radiant rage prickling across your skin. But there were several of them, and only one of you. So you put your head down, kept walking.

Then you heard him add, “Stupid bitch.”

You turned, flashed him a dangerous smile. It was the last thing he saw before all hell broke loose.

—————————————

It was well after midnight when you finally returned home, placing your key in the lock with shaky hands. You fumbled for a few seconds. Blood was dripping into your eye, making it hard to see.

You would normally be able to charm the door open, slip in without a sound. But alcohol interfered with your magic, making it slower, more sluggish, more unreliable. That was why the fight had turned a little sideways, why they’d been able to land a few lucky hits. You winced as you finally opened the door, leaning against the frame for a moment to catch your breath.

Okay, maybe more than a few.

The lights were out on the first floor and the house was cloaked in shadow. Presumably Agatha had gone to bed. Part of you felt relieved. You were in no state for confrontation, nerves all strung out and raw.

But another part of you felt lacerated by her absence. You’d been gone for hours. Had she even noticed?

Perhaps this was just further proof that you had misjudged your relationship. You certainly weren’t irreplaceable. The letter had proved that much. Maybe you weren’t even important to the other woman. She was a legendary witch, after all. History books were filled with pages and pages of her deeds and misdeeds. You were nobody, nothing.

You tried to be quiet as you crept across the room, heading for the stairs. Just as you placed your foot on the first step, a lamp flickered on behind you.

“I could swear we had this conversation before,” Agatha said silkily.

You froze, back stiffening at her words.

“I don’t like you going out unaccompanied and wandering home like this, all on your own.” Her words pricked something hopeful in your chest, but you pushed it aside. “Do I make myself clear?”

“Sorry, mistress,” you said, keeping your voice flat. “It won’t happen again.”

Agatha snorted at the formality, but something actually ached in her chest.

It had been almost a year since you arrived on her doorstep, full of power and pain and potential, asking for a teacher. She had nearly sent you away. But something about the  stubborn set of your jaw, the rangy, reckless magic thundering through your veins…it had disarmed her.

She insisted on implementing strict rules in the beginning, doing things by the book. You were her student and she was your teacher. Nothing more. But over time, you worked your way into her head, her heart…what little remained of it, in any case.

“Mistress?” She repeated, trying to keep her tone light. “You haven’t called me that in ages.”

You shrugged, still refusing to face her.

“That’s what you are, isn’t it?” Your voice shook a little, though from anger or despair she couldn’t be sure. “And I’m just a student.”

Agatha frowned. Something was very wrong—she studied your shoulders, noticing the rigid way you held yourself. Almost like you were in pain.

“What’s going on?” She said, abandoning the theatrics. “Where have you been all night?”

You laughed, mirthless and jagged. “Why do you care?”

Her eyes widened. That was the last thing she’d been expecting you to say. And suddenly she’d had enough of this infuriating distance between you.

Agatha pushed herself upright, and in three quick strides she was spinning you around, hands seeking answers that words couldn’t give fast enough.

As soon as her fingers brushed your shoulder she could feel the confusion, the pain, the sorrow at war within you. The storm was so profound that her own chest tightened uncomfortably. Who had done this?

She spun you around, and all other thoughts went out the window. Blood was splashed across your forehead, one eye blackened by a nasty bruise. Your bottom lip was swollen, split in the middle.

“You’re hurt,” she muttered, eyes sweeping over your body, scanning for other injuries. “How bad?”

“Just a few scrapes.”

But even as you said those words, you swayed slightly, sagged against the bannister. Agatha’s hands went to your waist immediately, long fingers curling into the fabric of your sweatshirt.

“I’m fine,” you insisted blearily. “Just let me go to bed.”

Agatha scoffed. “You’re not going anywhere until you tell me who did this.”

“It doesn’t matter,” you repeated. “I started it, I wanted the fight.”

Her eyebrows furrowed, a look of genuine confusion softening her sharp features.

“Why?”

You shrugged, throat suddenly tight. “It doesn’t matter, Agatha.”

“Stop saying that,” she snapped.

For a moment neither of you spoke, locked in a standoff at the foot of the stairs. Then she placed her hand over your forehead, attempting to seal the tender flesh there. It was a peace offering. You sighed at the warm sensation of her magic soothing your skin like a salve.

“White magic isn’t my strong suit,” she said. There was a note of apprehension in her voice, like she didn’t think this was a good idea.

You hated that Agatha viewed herself this way, and you opened your mouth to argue, to thank her, to say it felt amazing, but you never got the words out. Your eyes rolled back in your head, your knees buckling. Agatha caught you in one swift motion, a spike of fear piercing her heart.

“Dammit,” the older woman swore softly under her breath, cradling you against her chest.

This happened sometimes with healing spells—she had difficulty modulating her power, localizing it to a specific area. She had only meant to relieve your pain. But you were hovering so close to exhaustion that she’d accidentally pushed you right over the edge into unconsciousness.

She carried you the short distance to the sofa, arranging you carefully against the cushions. She gazed at you for a moment, torn, then leaned forward and rested her head against your heart. Closing her eyes, she listened for the pulse, steady and soothing. She took a few calming breaths of her own, matching the rise and fall of your chest.

“Agatha?” Your voice was confused, tired. “What happened?”

“You’re trying to give me grey hair,” she sighed, lifting her head to glare at you.

You smiled, lopsided and precious. “You’d look good grey,” you slurred. “You always look good.”

She felt a ridiculous fondness in her chest. “Drunken fool.”

Agatha went into the kitchen, busying herself at the kettle. She returned with a strong cup of tea, biscuits, and a warm washcloth.

“Sit up,” she ordered, gripping your elbow. You shifted and something fluttered to the floor beside you. Agatha stilled, not recognizing it at first. Then she leaned down and plucked the letter off the floor.

“Aha,” she said, comprehension dawning. “I was wondering where this went.”

You shrank back, squirming guiltily. She set the letter on the table, then brought the washcloth to your face, cleaning the blood by hand rather than risking another spell.

“Am I right in presuming this is the source of all your angst?” The words were laced with an unspoken reprimand, punctuated by her arched eyebrow. You gulped.

“I didn’t know you were taking on new students,” you said. “You never told me.”

She gave you a withering look. “You never asked.”

You opened your mouth to reply, then closed it again.

“What’s the matter, pet?” She asked, and there was a definite teasing lilt in her voice now. “Don’t you like the idea of sharing me?”

Even if Agatha had not been touching you at that exact moment, she would have noticed the powerful reaction you had to those words. The lights flickered and an icy breeze swept through the room, emanating from nowhere, from everywhere, making the hairs on the back of her neck stand up.

Beneath her fingers, Agatha felt the surge of raw possessiveness crackling along the surface of your skin, a mix of pure loyalty and longing and love that made her light-headed.

Agatha drew a shaky breath, momentarily cowed by the sheer magnitude of your affection. “All for me?”

You let your head fall back against the sofa, utterly spent, too tired to be embarrassed. “Who else?”

Agatha resumed her ministrations. There were more small cuts around your jaw and neck. She carefully cleaned them one by one.

“If you had bothered to talk to me, rather than pilfering my personal correspondence,” she said pointedly. “Then you would have known I receive such letters quite often and my response is always the same.”

Your gaze pinned her where she sat, and she saw that your pupils were dilated, your jaw slightly slack as you waited to hear the answer.

“Return to sender,” she shrugged. “I have my hands full with you.”

The corners of your lips quirked upward in a hopeful smile. “Is that right?”

She hummed in agreement, never one to dwell on sappy moments. “Come on, let’s get you to bed.”

She helped you off the sofa. Together you shuffled slowly up the stairs and into your room. She pulled back the covers, fluffed the pillows.

“I didn’t realize you got so much fan mail,” you grumbled, slipping between the sheets.

Agatha gave you an imperious little smile. “Of course I get fan mail,” she said. “I’m a legend.”

She hesitated for a moment, then joined you on the edge of the bed. Her tone softened as she traced your eye, bruised and tender. “Do you really think I would let just anyone move into my home? Learn my magic?”

You bit your lip, uncertain.

“There’s only you, pet,” she murmured, absently stroking your hair. “You’re one of a kind.”

Your chest felt like it might burst at those words.

“Don’t cry,” she warned. “There’s nothing worse than a weepy drunk.”

“Weepy but violent,” you corrected, swiping your sleeve across your eye.

She pressed her lips into a thin line of disapproval. “How many of them were there?”

“Five,” you said.

Agatha gritted her teeth, nostrils flaring as she exhaled slowly through her nose. The thought of you squaring off with an unknown threat all alone made her furious.

“I could strangle you,” she said, eyes flickering over the marks on your face and neck.

“Somebody already tried that tonight,” you quipped, hoping for a laugh. “Didn’t end well for them.”

Agatha’s expression darkened, turning even more serious.

“You shouldn’t have left when you were upset,” she said. “It was reckless. And you shouldn’t be picking fights on your own.”

You stifled a laugh. “That’s a bit rich, coming from you.”

She stared at you through half-lidded eyes. In the low light of the bedroom, she looked ridiculously beautiful.

“Do as I say, not as I do,” she recited. “Isn’t that the line?”

“Sure,” you shrugged, hoping Agatha would drop it. You were suddenly very tired. Your entire body ached.

Agatha didn’t drop it.

“Promise me it won’t happen again.”

You nodded. The other woman placed a fingertip beneath your chin, raising your face until you were eye-to-eye.

“Words.”

You smiled, enjoying the attention. “Promise.”

“Very good,” she said, rising from the bed. “Now, get some sleep. We have an early start tomorrow.”

You snuggled down into the covers. “Night, Agatha.”

“Good night, pet.”

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I'll say it... I miss the comments on Wattpad.

Tumblr fic comments are a rarity and even so they're missing the inherently unhinged nature of what it feels like to consume fic. Even if you do comment you'll probably be all alone.

Ao3 is a smidge better. The comments over there feel like a peer review sometimes. Just one Ao3 comment and I'm levitating off the ground like a rocket at blast off. They’re so well thought out over there.

Wattpad the comments were just as entertaining as the fic. Like they had the community of it all on lock. The replies, the arguing, the multiple read throughs comments, like I miss that. It reslly did feel like sharing with friends at the apex of the app. (Rip wattpad and the shell of website/app that you have become 🙏)

All this to say reblogging and likes are much appreciated, but if you comment on fics in this space you are angel and deserve love, cuddles, and head scratches.

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Soft Hands, Sharp Hearts

Yelena Belova x Reader

Summary: She’s all sharp edges and strength. You’re gentle hands and soft words. It shouldn’t work. But it does.

You crawled onto the sofa before Yelena could take off her boots.

“Are you going to nap there again?” she asked, amusement dancing in her voice.

“I’m waiting for you,” you mumbled, arms already outstretched, your cheeks pink from the warmth of the flat.

Yelena arched an eyebrow. “You’re very needy today.”

“I missed you,” you said without hesitation, eyes shining. “You were gone for two whole days.”

She tried to play it cool, tried not to let your sweetness undo her, but there was a twitch at the corner of her mouth.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“And you love me,” you added, reaching for her hand and tugging her down beside you.

She let you.

Yelena let out a long breath and allowed herself to sink into the cushions, boots still on, body still tense. You curled into her side anyway, head tucked against her chest like it was your rightful place.

“You smell like gunpowder,” you said softly.

“Mm. You smell like home.”

She didn’t say that often. She barely said things like that at all. But you didn’t push, didn’t make a big deal.

You just held her tighter.

“You’re brave, you know,” she said after a while. “Not in the way most people mean. But… in how you care.”

You looked up at her. “That’s not brave. That’s just love.”

Yelena shook her head, brushing your hair back. “No. That’s the bravest thing of all.”

You leaned up to kiss her, your mouth soft, a slow, loving press that tasted like safety.

Her hands found your waist, grounding herself in you, anchoring to something she never thought she’d deserve.

Later, she carried you to bed, even though you insisted you could walk. You clung to her anyway, arms wrapped tight around her neck, whispering how much you loved her into her skin.

“You are the softest thing in my life,” she murmured as she laid you down.

“And I’m staying,” you whispered, smiling up at her.

She believed you.

For the first time in her life, she believed someone meant it.

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

Wattpad

/DO NOT TRANSLATE, STEAL OR REPOST ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/

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I hate when a tiny stupid thing pushes you over the edge and makes you freak the fuck out because it makes you look like a completely irrational tar pit of a human being. Like no I promise this is warranted just maybe not about that specifically I swear I'm well adjusted. Come closer stick your fingers in my cage

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Reporter: Why do you think so many countries’ governments around the world are just ignoring what’s happening in Gaza?

Greta Thunberg: Because of racism, that’s the simple answer, I would say. Racism, and basically desperately trying to defend a deadly, destructive system that systematically maximizes short term economic profit and geopolitical power over the well being of humans and the planet. Right now, it is morally difficult to defend that – it is impossible— but they’re desperately trying which is …. absurd is not the word, but there are no words to describe it.

- Greta Thunberg in Paris, after returning from Israel’s illegal abduction of her aboard the Madleen (10 Jun 25)

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Hi I don’t know if you write for this character but I would LOVE to read a yelena x yn fic where yn is Kate Bishops sister maybe some angsty stuff too

Howdy it's late but it's here

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Perfect Woman

Yelena Belova x Reader

Word Count: 5.6k

Notes: Requested, angst, fluff, domestic at times, Thunderbolts Spoilers, injuries, canon typical violence, probable misuse of medical jargon, you're Kate's sister

Summary: You're Kate’s older sister that moved away and became a doctor. Your mother's arrest has you moving back home to watch over Kate. The only thing is when you get back you find out that Kate is a member of a certin team of heroes.

An: Been working on this for awhile. I also just want to say I love you LA if you're out there stay safe and continue to stand up for what you believe in and Fuck ICE. (Argue with the wall if you disagree 🤷‍♀️)

Masterlist | Masterlist 2

Kate never shut up about her sister. Any chance the young Avenger had to mention you she did. Older, financially independent, and a doctor, you were someone she looked up to.

You had long moved out of New York before your mom’s arrest. The city felt too cramped, you wanted something more of a rural life. For a while you had it. The businesses of the of hospital life followed by quaint nights in your small suburban home.

It was very nice and very simple. At least until word of your mother’s arrest got back to you. Things quickly became complicated. You’d be going back to New York. It wasn’t something you’d have to debate. The thought of leaving Kate to deal with this on her own was enough for you to uproot the life you had built and start over again.

“You are anxious Kate Bishop. Your leg it’s going bounce, bounce, bounce. What is the matter?”

Kate avoids Yelena’s eyes, “She doesn't know about the whole Avengers thing.”

Yelena shrugs, “So, you tell her now.”

Kate shakes her head, “How? Hey, Y/n I know you moved back home because of me, but I dropped out of college to become an Avenger. Did you want to go see mom in prison?”

Yelena rolls her eyes, “Always with the dramatics Kate. Just be honest. The way you have described her, I’m sure she will understand. Plus, you sweeten the deal with that job offer at the tower. What is there to be upset about?”

“I just don't want her to be disappointed,” Kate sighs.

Kate and Yelena are waiting for you at the airport. They’d be taking you straight to the compound to get settled. So, it’s imperative that Kate decide what she’s going to tell you now.

“When I found out my sister was an Avenger I was surprised. I was worried and a little hurt that she didn’t tell me, but most of all I was proud. I was happy that she turned her life around and became a symbol for the people,” Yelena shares with Kate.

Yelena didn’t talk about Natasha a lot. There was a lot of pain that she still felt. So, when she did, Kate never took it lightly. The archer drew in a breath before nodding a few times.

“I understand.”

It’s about 15 minutes later, when Kate catches a glimpse of you at the airport. She stands abruptly and Yelena watches her with careful eyes.

“You see her?”

“I do.”

There’s something that keeps the brunette in her place. Yelena stands and drops a hand on Kate’s shoulder, “Then let’s go.”

Kate begins to walk towards you with Yelena by her side. Her strides are smaller than usual. Her entire body feels like it is vibrating.

“Kate,” you say her name when you spot her.

Whatever turmoil the young Avenger feels temporarily exits her system as she begins to run towards you. You stumble back as she wraps her arms around you tightly.

You place one hand in her hair and the other holds her against you. Honestly it had been quite a while since you’d seen each other in person. Part of you felt guilty for it.

“Missed you,” she whispers against you.

“I’m sorry for not visiting more often. I should’ve been here.”

She separates from you, “It’s not your fault. What mom did, we couldn’t have known.”

You sigh, “I know, I just hate that you had to go through that alone. I would’ve come sooner, but I had a lot to sort out before moving back here.”

“You didn’t have to come back,” Kate says.

You chuckle, “And leave you to deal with all of this on your own? I’d be the world’s worst sister.”

Kate clears her throat, “I have to tell you something.”

“Okay, but who is miss small, blonde, and silent? Best friend, co-worker, girlfriend?”

The blonde scrunches up her face, “Yelena.”

“Y/n, it’s nice to meet someone close to Kate. She’s never been one to connect with others."

Kate’s face heats at the notion, “Could you not embarrass me in front of her please?”

Yelena rolls her eyes, “Kate, in our first meeting I found out that you only owned 1 fork. Your sister has not embarrassed you any more in my eyes.”

“I like her, she’s funny,” you say regarding Yelena.

“Ok, enough of that,” Kate claps her hands together.

You laugh a little, “I’m only teasing Katie. Now what is it you want to tell me.”

The energy shifts when Kate looks into your eyes. There’s something more serious in the air. Kate takes in a large breath, readying herself. You wait patiently, though you have some nerves rising at this point.

“I’m an Avenger.”

You hold eye contact with her for a brief moment, but it falls apart when you start laughing.

Yelena and Kate share a look before turning their attention back to you.

“Good one. You’re an Avenger and I’m an astrophysicist,” you can feel the tears streaming from the corners of your eyes.

“Y/n, I’m not joking.”

Your laughter dies out slowly. You look at your sister and then Yelena, seeing neither of them laughing.

Your brow furrows and this time when you chuckle there’s an airy disbelief behind it, “ You’re being serious?”

Kate reaches for your hand, but you take a step back from her, “Y/n please just let me explain.”

“Explain it then,” your arms fold over your chest.

Right there in the airport Kate runs through how it all happened. From meeting Clint, to Kingpin, to your mom. She folds Yelena into her story describing how they were enemies but had since reconciled.

She skips over a few mundane months until she once again ran into Yelena. She described doing shadow work, but not under Valentina. The story gets complicated to follow in some parts with a lot of it revolving around some guy named Bob, and then all of a sudden she’s an Avenger.

“If you don’t believe her, we can show you the Wheaties,” Yelena chimes in when Kate finishes.

Kate glares at the blonde, “Ignore her. I’m sorry for not telling you. I just didn’t know when or how to bring it up.”

You run a hand through your hair, “So what does this mean Kate? For me, for us?”

Kate struggles to find the words. Yelena seeing the distress on her friend’s face decides to step in.

“It means you live at the tower with us. Kate has pulled some strings for you to work in our medical facilities,” Yelena answers your question.

You wanted to protest. This somehow seemed unfair. You had uprooted your life for this, and while it wasn’t necessarily a downgrade, it wasn’t what you signed up for. More than anything, you couldn’t believe that Kate would keep this from you. Yet one look at your sister, and you decide to at least pretend to be okay with it.

She looks like she could disappear from in front of you.

You put a hand on her shoulder, “Okay.”

Her head snaps up, “Okay?”

You pull her back into you, “Yes, but no more secrets. Now let’s go, I’m kind of tired.”

“Just like that?”

Yelena starts walking ahead, “Kate, let’s just listen to your sister and not question it.”

You nod, “Did I already say I like her?”

Kate grumbles, “Let’s go.”

Being back in the city took some getting used to. There were certain things you missed, the weather, the coffee, the hustle of it all. There was definitely no shortage of adrenaline rushes in the city. You also get to spend a little more time with Kate.

Emphasis on little.

The life of an Avenger is a busy one. The life of their medical staff feels even busier. It doesn't seem like there is a single mission where someone isn’t coming back injured. It isn’t always major, but they were always stubborn about it.

“It’s fine, it’s not that deep of a cut,” Bucky holds his face as he speaks.

“It could get infected, and you know you’ll pick at the scab if I don’t bandage it,” you argue already prepping to help the man.

He sighs, “You’re right.”

You clean the cut, “Of course, I’m right. Now be still.”

“Y/N WE HAVE A SITUATION!”

You sigh putting a bandage on Bucky when the rest of the Avengers run in, “What seems to be the- oh shit.”

“Bobby might’ve cut his finger a little,” Walker points at the blood soaked paper towels wrapped around Bob’s finger.

“A little? It’s hanging on by a thread John,” Ava rushes out.

Bucky moves out of your seat and Yelena nearly shoves Bob in.

You can see a haphazardly made tourniquet, “If it’s even remotely attached then this will be a lot easier.”

You can see them collectively affirm that it is still attached.

“I was just cooking dinner, and the knife slipped and…” the man began to ramble.

You meet his eyes, “It’s no big deal, I’ll get you your finger back in no time. Just need to see the damage, clean the wound and sew it back on. You think you can handle that?”

He nods, “No problem.”

He's probably the calmest of the group. You block out the chaos of the bunch as you begin to unwrap the gauze from his finger.

“I think I’m going to puke,” Kate watches mortified.

“One person can stay for moral support, but the rest of you have to wait outside,” you announce when you get a good look at his finger.

Yelena stays and the rest funnel out with light protest. She sits on Bob’s side holding his intact hand.

“No more knives for you,” Yelena says.

Bob protests and looks for you to help, “It was an accident.”

“Let the man live a little Yelena. He’s got to do something while you’re all out saving the world. He won’t be cutting off anymore fingers, but if he does I’m here to put him back together just like with the rest of you.”

Yelena relents, “Fine, but no knives until you’re healed.”

Bob looks at you again.

You shake your head, “That’s fair Bobby. I’m going to start the stitch it’s going to hurt a bit but it’ll be quick.”

He squirms a bit in discomfort as you reattach his finger. Once you’re done you wrap it and put it in a small brace.

“So Dr. Bishop what is the damage?”

You smile a bit, “They were being dramatic it’s not that bad. Luckily it was mostly your finger tip, so no damage to your bones or tendons. It’s a pretty superficial cut. Just come see me everyday for the next week or two so I can check the process. Don’t get it wet, I think that's it.”

“Thanks Y/n,” he stands awkwardly.

You pull him into a quick hug, “Any time Bobby.”

He exits and you expect the blonde to follow after him, but she doesn't.

“Not tired of us yet?”

You start to clean up the mess around you, “How could I ever get tired of The Avengers?”

“I don’t actually think it’s that hard.”

You chuckle at her words, “Well you must be used to the Avengers charm.”

“Charm? Are you sure you are without injury? Have you hit your head on something?”

You shrug, “Maybe you just need to come work in the med bay. They’re a lot nicer when you’re patching them up.”

She hums, “So you will teach me and then I can become your second in command.”

You give her a teasing look, “Kate tells me that you’re the best on the team when it comes to in the moment first aid.”

Yelena grows bashful, “Me? No.”

“I think the tourniquet was pretty good,” you comment.

Her hand finds the back of her neck, “It was a part of my training.”

“Always so impressive Lena. Is there anything you can’t do?” You give her a toothy grin.

She blushes at your compliment, “I can’t cook.”

“Maybe, I can teach you that instead. Bobby’s the only person who can actually cook on the team and with his injury, he won't be in the kitchen any time soon.”

Yelena nods, “We could… attempt to finish the dinner he started?”

You take her hand as you slip out of the room, “Follow me sous chef Belova.”

She let you drag her into the kitchen. The scene in front of you was comical. The remaining Avengers were staring at the ingredients and kitchen appliances with disdain as Bob tried to talk them through the steps.

You clap your hands together, grabbing their attention, “Everyone out, Lena and I will cook.”

Kate snorts, “She can’t cook.”

You glare at your sister, “None of you can.”

“I can cook,” Bob says.

You ruffle his hair a bit, “I know you can Bobby, but you’re the only one.”

“So she gets to stay because?” Walker questions.

“Because I’m cooking and I said so, unless you’d rather finish up here,” you arch an eyebrow.

Bucky is the first to put down something, “Let us know when it’s ready.”

Walker follows his lead, but not before looking between you and Yelena a few times, “Good luck.”

Ava leaves next, “I’ll have you know that I’m actually quite decent in the kitchen.”

Then Alexei, “Lena cooking is like taking down enemy, precision is everything. I have faith in you.”

Kate and Bob linger a bit longer than the others. Bob tells you the recipe and then departs with a smile. Kate on the other hand sticks around.

“Kate Bishop do you not trust my skills?” Yelena says dicing up the vegetables.

“Not particularly,” the brunette answers.

“Kate, be nice or get out,” you warn her.

Kate raises her hands in surrender, “Fine, but I think Walker had a valid question.”

You let out a sigh, “Lena asked to help, that’s why she gets to stay.”

Kate eyes the blonde, “Lena asked to stay? Interesting.”

“It really isn’t,” the blonde glares at the blonde.

Kate nods to herself, “I guess I’ll leave you guys to it then.”

“Bye Kate,” you respond.

She pauses her movements to stare at you. “Goodbye sister,” she turns to Yelena giving her the same intensity, “Goodbye best friend.”

Yelena squirms under the gaze, but mumbles a quick bye.

“Has she always been like that?”

You nod, “She’s always been a bit weird, but I prefer her that way. Means she’s regulating her emotions.”

Yelena nods in agreement, “I’ve seen how she gets when she’s in her head.”

“Our mom was always harder on her. She wanted Kate to be more… traditional than I was,” you frown.

Yelena gives you her full attention. You keep your focus on the food, but you can feel her gaze on you.

“In what way?”

You search for an answer, something less vulnerable, but you don’t find anything but the truth, “Someone more willing to conform to societal norms. A girl, a real one. Someone she could throw into dresses and skirts. A girl that loved dolls, and flowers, and boys. A girl that would settle for being a nurse instead of wanting to be a doctor.”

“You are a real girl; a woman. Clothes and hobbies are not what define girlhood. Femininity is only a small aspect of what it means to be a woman. You and Kate are strong-willed, brave, smart, and there’s beauty in that; in you.”

You shake your head with a small laugh, “Tell that to my mother.”

Yelena furrows her brow. The vegetables are forgotten as she makes her way to you over by the stove. You’re stirring some things in a pot. She grabs your wrist and turns off the burner.

“Yelena-”

“Do you think that I’m less than a woman because of my job?”

Your eyes widen a bit, “No Lena, I wouldn’t-”

“What about because I can’t have children biologically?”

“No.”

She tilts her head a bit, “Then because I don’t wear dresses, because I cut my hair short, and because of my affinity for foul language?”

“No, but it’s different,” you try to explain avoiding her gaze.

She gently tilts your chin so that you’re looking at her, “Are all of you Bishop’s this stubborn?”

“Yeah,” it’s a whisper from your lips; the proximity finally getting to you. Her skin is warm where it touches yours.

“You’re the perfect woman.”

Your breath hitches when the words leave her mouth. You watch as her eyes slowly drift to your lips before meeting your gaze.

“Hey guys is the food almost ready,” Bob entering the kitchen interrupts the moment.

Yelena takes in a soft breathe before turning to Bob, “Yeah we’re almost done.”

He looks a bit embarrassed when he speaks again, “Ok, just uh come get us when you’re- it’s done.”

You return your attention to the stove, putting a little space between Yelena and yourself, “For sure Bob.”

He smiles a bit before exiting the kitchen.

Yelena is only out of your space for a moment as she collects the vegetables and tosses them into the pot you’re tending to. She wordlessly leans against the counter eyeing you as you watch the soup. A few minutes pass by before you’re lifting a spoon from the pot.

“Taste,” you command, holding the spoon out to her.

She’s deliberate as she leans in to blow on the spoon before enclosing her mouth around it. She moans lightly when the flavor hits her tongue. You’re melting at the sound.

“It’s really good,” she praises.

You simply let out a satisfied hum in response.

Yelena eyes you, “Do you want to taste it?”

You sense there’s a double meaning to her words. It has a heat crawling from the base of your neck to the tip of your ears. You nod for a moment before finally saying, “Yes.”

When she steps into your space you don’t move. When her hand reaches to hold your face, you let her. Then when she pauses briefly, when her lips are centimeters from yours, you lean in.

Her lips are light and soft against yours. Delicate as she kisses you with just a hint of doubt and uncertainty. You can feel her breath labor against yours. It’s as if she’s fighting to contain herself. You meet her with the same softness, scared to end anything.

Yelena is the one to pull away. Her grin is teasing and lopsided, “How did it taste?”

You roll your eyes as your skin heats even more, “Much sweeter than I anticipated.”

From that moment on there was something between Yelena and yourself. It wasn’t long before you started dating officially. The team all knew even though you never officially told anyone other than Kate.

Your sister approved, but she did threaten the both you. She warned you against hurting her best friend and she threatened Yelena not to hurt you. It was pretty comical even though the archer was dead serious.

You loved being with Yelena. She wasn’t like anyone you had ever dated. Her level of care an attentiveness was something that you had never experienced before.

The only downside was how worried you got when she was working. You obviously cared for all the Avengers as they were like your family at this point. However when it came to Kate and Yelena, you were always extra on edge.

“What am I going to do with you and Kate gone?”

Kate has been on an undercover mission for about a week. You’ve only been allowed minimal contact with her and it’s taking a small toll on you. Now the team is sending Yelena on a separate mission. She doesn’t tell you all the details, but ensures it’s nothing complicated.

“I’ll only be gone a few hours and Kate’s coming home at the end of the week,” Yelena says climbing into bed.

You turn to face her, “I know but still.”

She senses your anxiety pulling you into her, “Come here.”

You squeal at her strength, “Lena.”

She smiles, “Everything will be okay detka. I promise.”

You curl farther into her, “Just try to come back in one piece.”

“And what if I want to visit the doctor’s office?”

You glare at her playfully, “Your doctor makes house calls. No injury necessary.”

“My doctor?”

You kiss the side of her neck, “Your doctor.”

“I guess I’ll have to update mu insurance,” she jokes.

“You sound like Alexei,” you mumble against her skin

She scoffs at you, “You are lucky you are so cute right now.”

You laugh at her words. It’s quiet after that. Neither of you are asleep, just soaking in the feeling of being together. You sigh lightly against her skin, your arms tighten around her.

“You’re going to be gone when I wake up?” You ask breaking the quiet.

“Probably,” Yelena looks at your relaxed figure.

“I’ll miss you.”

Yelena kisses your forehead, “I will miss you too.”

Those are your last words to each other as you succumb to slumber.

Yelena isn’t there when you wake up in the morning. It sours your mood, keeping you in bed longer than usual.

When you finally do get up, you find yourself dressing in one of her sweaters. Your feet pad against the floor as you travel to the kitchen of the tower.

“Missing her already?” Ava is the one to make the comment.

You give her a tired glare, “What gave it away?”

Ava shrugs, “Can’t tell if it’s the sweater or the absolute disdain on your face.”

“It’s easier when only one of them is gone. Now I have to worry about my girlfriend and my sister,” you say as you lazily prepare some cereal.

“The rest of us are here. How about we do some team bonding or something?”

You raise an eyebrow, “I’m not on the team? Plus since when are you willing to purposefully spend time with Walker and Alexei.”

“Y/n, don’t make me do that corny thing where I say we’re a family. It’s way too early for that.”

Her words make you chuckle, “Ok, I guess if everyone agrees then I don’t have a choice.”

“Let me round them up then,” she states and begins to exit the kitchen.

Not even a full ten minutes later you’re all gathered in the tv room. Everyone else matches your energy by dressing in comfortable clothes. You find yourself curled up on the couch next to Bob.

“So, what’re we watching?” Walker poses the question.

“I like the show with the tow trucks,” Alexei says first.

You nod, “I could watch some trash tv.”

“Didn’t they push the lady off a parking garage once?” Bucky mentions.

“Yep,” you and Alexei say at the same time.

So you sit there with the team, maybe a little too invested in the show. By the time you finish the first season, it feels like you are one with the couch.

“You guys want to play Uno?” Bob asks nonchalantly.

“We can play if you guys are ready to lose,” Walker starts speaking, “I’m undefeated in Uno.”

You scoff, “You expect us to believe you’ve never lost Uno.”

“Well yeah, because it’s the truth.”

Bucky smirks, “Only one way to find out then.”

You play a few rounds, Walker winning each time. The look on his face becomes more smug with each victory he claims under his belt.

“Ok, so how are you cheating?”

He looks at you with fake shock, “I’m not cheating I’m simply using strategy.”

Ava chimes in, “I say we check his cards at the start of the round.”

“Now that’s cheating,” Walker points out.

“Ok, this last round how about we just all gang up on him,” Alexei says.

“That’s also cheating,” Walker proclaims throwing his hands up.

“Perfectly legal,” Bucky says dealing out the cards.

It takes an absurd amount of time, but you guys band together to keep Walker from winning.

“Looks like Bob just handed you your first loss,” you say smugly.

“Does this even count?”

Bucky puts a hand on the man’s shoulder, “Oh it counts John.”

Everything is blissful until Bucky gets a notification. He shoots up from his seat expeditiously. The movement startles the rest of the team. He looks at everyone but you.

“We have to go. Now,” he’s rushing to suit up.

Everyone stands immediately.

“What happened?” Ava questions.

That’s when Bucky finally looks at you, “Yelena needs backup.”

You feel something inside you snap. Everything you had done to relax had been effectively forgotten with that one sentence.

“Is she okay?” Bob asks worry etched onto his features.

“We will bring her home,” Bucky promises not taking his eyes off of you.

Alexei doubles the sentiment, “I will make sure of it.”

You watch as they leave in the quinjet. Bob tries to comfort you, but it doesn’t work. You change out of your lazy clothes into your work attire.

Bob attempts to stop you, “Hey, we don’t know what’s going on. We don’t have to assume the worst.”

You just sigh, “I know, but even if she doesn’t have a scratch on her. I want to be the one to check her out. I’m going to prep some things.”

So you go to the med bay and prep the area for Yelena to return. You pace while you wait for her return.

When she arrives nothing is calm. You see your sister rushing into the medical facilities with Yelena in her arms. Her frantic movements sends the facility into a similar frenzy.

You’re rushing over as they put your girlfriend on the stretcher. She’s in bad shape, but you don’t cry.

“Let’s get her on the table, now,” you take charge of the situation.

Some of the staff looks at you with some worry.

“I said now,” you barely refrain from yelling.

Your words spring them into action. You follow to the operating room. In this situation no one questioned as you began to act as the head surgeon.

You are somewhere else as you asses the woman on the table. Everything you say and do is completely professional. It takes everything in you to be collected as you work. Your heart is screaming, but your hands are steady as you operate on her.

When it’s all said and done, she’s stable. The bruising and cuts that littered her body were superficial to the internal damage. Most of her ribs were broken, it was a miracle that none of her vital organs were punctured. However there was internal bleeding that needed to be stopped. On the outside her eye was swollen shut and her left leg was broken.

You can’t linger in the room that they end up putting Yelena in. You barely make it out of the med bay. In the hall you slide your back against the wall. It’s as if your legs collapse right under you.

Sobs hit you hard. There’s nothing you can do as you lose control of your breathing.

Kate comes across you first. She’s instantly kneeling down in front of you. She ignores the ache in her muscles as she does so.

“Y/n, can I touch you?”

At the sound of your sister’s voice you fling yourself into her arms. She hold you tightly and rubs your back.

“She’s going to be ok,” Kate says to you.

You nod against her, “I know. I made sure, I had to make sure.”

Your hands shake as you close your eyes, you can feel her blood against your skin. You open your eyes getting a blurry look at your sister. Your hand reaches up to her face.

“You’re hurt too.” The realization has you scrambling to your feet. “Is everyone else, okay? The team are they-”

She stands with you, “They’re okay. A little banged up but everyone has seen a doctor. We’re all okay.”

“How are you even here? I thought you had a mission?”

Kate nods, “I did. Yelena sent out the distress message and I was closer to her than the rest of the team. I made the decision to go after her.”

“Was she like that when you got there?”

Kate bites her lip to keep herself from crying , “ She was down but they didn't care, they were all over her. Then I showed up they diverted their attention to me. I was doing all I could to draw them away from her, but there were just so many of them. I was getting overwhelmed, I don't know how or when she got up but she did. We held them off until the team showed up. As soon as the last enemy was down, she just collapsed.”

You wrap your arms around her, “Oh Kate.”

Then she’s crying on your shoulder, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I couldn't protect her. I should’ve been better.”

“This isn’t your fault,” you tell her no room for argument in your tone. You pull away to wipe the tears off of her face. “You did everything you could do. If you weren't there, I don't know if the others would've got to her in time.”

“Do you regret coming back?”

“I could never regret being here with you. This team is like the family I’ve always wanted. Yes, it’s hard when stuff like this happens, but Kate, I love you. I love this, all of it. I’m not going anywhere,” you reassure your sister.

She nods to herself, “You promise?”

“I promise. Now let me get a look at you,” you start to pull Kate into the med bay.

“I already saw a doctor.”

You shake your head, “I know, but this for peace of mind.”

She doesn’t say anything else, allowing you to check the other doctor’s work. She isn’t as nearly banged up as Yelena, but she’s still got some serious injuries going on. There’s some deep lacerations across her skin and some bruising around her ribs.

“Fit as a fiddle,” she says when you’re done.

“Nowhere near that,” you roll your eyes.

A knock on the door breaks the moment as someone enters the room. Bucky stands at the door looking timidly between the two of you. He can hardly look you in the eyes.

“Yelena is awake, she’s asking for you.”

“James,” you call him out. It forces him to look at you properly. “It’s okay.”

He hangs his head, “I’m so sorry. I shouldn't have sent her alone. I didn’t know.”

“Bucky, you couldn’t have known,” you reason with him.

“This won’t happen again, I swear on my life,” he says.

You put your hand on his shoulder, “You’re the Avengers, you get hurt sometimes.”

He nods, but you can tell he doesn’t fully believe it. Bucky doesn’t say anything else, instead opting to lead you toward Yelena.

The rest of the team stands outside of the blonde’s room. You give them a sad smile.

“She wants to see you first,” Alexei explains their position.

“Okay,” is all you manage to say.

When you go into the room, the blonde is sitting up. It almost looks like she’s digging her palms into her eyes. The sound of the door makes her head shoot up.

When she meets your eyes her features take on a lopsided smile. You can’t resist the urge to rush over to her. Your arms wrap around her delicately. You know any pressure would only hurt her.

Though you try to hold them back a few tears slip past your eyes. Yelena’s lips touch your forehead.

She whisper against it, “I’m here.”

“Thought I was going to lose you.”

She lets her smile grow, “I told you the staff at the med bay would never allow it.”

“And I told you, your doctor makes house calls,” you rebut.

“I just wanted to see them so much, a call wasn’t quick enough,” Yelena bluffs.

You arch an eyebrow, “Some doctor she is if you’re going through all this trouble.”

She looks at you earnestly, “I love her.”

You feel your heart start to hammer in your chest. Your eyes widen as you look at her, “You what?”

“I love you.”

You grab her face softly, but urgently. Your pull her closer to you fluidly. When your lips touch hers, you feel complete again. You try your best to restrain yourself, not wanting to hurt her.

“I love you too.”

She laughs a bit against your lips before wincing. You try to pull back but she doesn’t let you, “ You are perfect.”

You blush at her words, “Lena.”

“The perfect woman,” she doubles down.

“The drugs are finally hitting you,” you say barely containing your smile

She lays back down, staring at the ceiling, “They are, but that doesn’t make you any less perfect my love.”

“You’re the perfect one Lena,” you flip it on her.

It’s now her blushing, “Even with all my ailments? You think so?”

“Especially with your ailments.”

She grabs your hand placing a gentle kiss in the back, “Thank you. For fixing me up.“

“ Anytime and every time.”

You sit with her alone for a few more minutes before she allows everyone else in. They’re all timid as they offer the blonde apologies. She shakes them off, not blaming anyone except the aggressors.

She doesn’t let anyone leave until they all believe that they are not at fault. Yelena does what she does best, and lights up the room. Even in this state her attitude shines brightly through and unto others.

When the rest of the team exits, you stay. She scoots over in the hospital bed, and pats the seat next to her. You try to argue that it’s not good for her ribs or her leg, she ignores you. Yelena pulls you into the bed and snuggles against you.

You’re happy to feel her against you, sighing at the feeling of being close to her.

“I love you,” she mumbles against you.

You allow your eyes to close, deciding to fully relax in the presence of your girlfriend.

“I love you too.”

[lowkeyerror]

Sharing is caring

Summary: Natasha doesn't like to share.

Natasha Romanoff x F!R

A/N: Thank you to @jujuu23 for reading this before I posted :)

Natasha wanted to have a good day.

But then recruits were stupid, Steve was being annoying about paperwork. And now, this.

Her favorite mug. Gone.

“Did you do this?” is the first thing she says to Sam as he enters the kitchen.

“No, I like the idea of keeping all my fingers”

And precisely then, you walk in.

Newest addition to the team, top of your SHIELD class, expert in weapons, languages and the most delicious desserts. Steve had to enforce a rigurous meal plan when even Bucky gained a good five pounds.

Natasha likes your easy smile, beautiful eyes, and those full lips that can be both alluring and mysterious.

That perfect mouth that is now sipping from none other than Natasha’s mug.

Sam crosses his arms, expecting the Russian to say something. But she stays glued to her spot.

As you enter the room, you feel two sets of eyes on you. The attention makes you falter, but you push through. There’s no place for shyness when you’re an Avenger.

“Hey. How’s it going?”

“Real nice” Sam says, and you nod, considering if it’s a good idea to address Natasha directly. You still haven’t quiet figured her out. 

“Do I have something on my face? You’re staring”

“No” Natasha rushes to say, before Sam can tell you that you’re holding her mug, the one that made her rip Barnes’ arm off when she saw him using it.  

“You sure? Dirt? Chocolate?”

“Your face is perfect” she hurries to say, and Sam has to cough to hide his laughter 

“Smooth, Romanoff”

“Ok, then. I made coffee and added a little nutmeg. Wanna try it?”

You offer her your mug and she takes it, smiling. 

“This is really good!”

“Finish it. I have to train. I don’t mind sharing” you wink at her, and Natasha has to keep from smiling. She doesn’t like new people knowing she can go soft.

“Can I have some?” Sam steps in.

“No” Natasha cuts him off and you laugh, waving goodbye. 

—

Heroes can save the day, but forget to bring out an extra chair when doing mission debriefings. 

This is the first time the entire team has been on a mission together since you joined, and now the conference room is crowded. There’s no place to sit, except for a small sofa in the back of the room.

That’s where Natasha usually sits, because it gives her a view of everyone. She can read their expressions, guess what they think, take that information to asses what needs to be refined in their team dynamic. 

Right now, though, she’s one of the last people in. The minute she looks at her spot, she sees you, leaning against the sofa, your hand discreetly holding your side.

“Rookie, you’re in Red’s spot” Tony says, walkign right after Natasha. 

She shoots him a murderous glare, but all you do is laugh, trying to stand up without anyone noticing you’re injured.

But Natasha notices.

“We can both sit here” she rushes to say, and you nod, knowing your voice would be strained if you thanked her out loud.

Mission debriefing goes by in a blur, your breathing heavy. 

Natasha is ready to tell Steve to can it, but Tony steps in, and everyone leaves the room.

Everyone except you. 

Natasha can’t leave either, worried about your condition.

“It’s nothing major” you say, knowing why she’s still sitting next to you.

“What is?” she tries to play dumb, but that makes you laugh. You wince after a second, though. “You should go to the Medbay”

“Cracked ribs, that’s all. The doctors won’t be able to fix that either way” you smile at her, but make no effort to move. Natasha stays put too, and you know she’s patient enough to wait it out. “Fine. I’m going”

You expect Natasha to leave for her room once you promise to get checked out. But instead, she follows you.

“Just in case you need something”

The doctors confirm what you already know. Rest, painkillers, no training for a couple of days. What you had missed were a couple of cuts, since you didn’t even change out of your suit until now. A nurse cleans them up and patches you up, but you’re left in nothing but a tank top and your tactical pants. 

Why is the Medbay so damn cold?

When you open the door, Natasha is already waiting, a hoodie in her hands.

“I’ve told them to fix the damn AC a thousand times” is all she says, and you smile, grateful. You struggle when you have to slide the hoodie down your body, and Natasha’s hands are quick to pull the fabric down gently.

“Thank you, Nat”

“Come on, you need your rest” 

Walking back to the living quarters, you can’t help but wonder if she’s being nice out of pity or something else. Whatever it is, you just hope she doesn’t see you as the rookie that screws up during their first group mission.

“You know where to find me, if you need anything” 

You nod, waiting until she walks into her own room to get inside.

The first thing you do in the privacy of your room is enjoy the fact her hoodie is soft, and smells just like Natasha.

You might not give it back to her.

—

Tony’s idea of a party is shut down the next morning. You can guess that Steve is aware of your injuries, as the doctors are required to submit a report.

Still, Stark insists on some team bonding activity and by a miracle, Natasha gets him to agree to movie night.

That’s how you end up in the entertainment room. There’s popcorn, soda, pizza and chocolate. 

Once again, and unbenknowst to you, you end up sitting on the couch Natasha takes up for herself.

“Hey” she walks up to you, vaguely aware that the rest of the team is waiting to see if Natasha asks you to move. “Mind if we share?”

“Not at all!” you say, moving to the side so she can sit. It’s hard to pretend you’re not excited about Natasha’s request. 

Considering she’s always keeping her distance, sharing the couch during movie night seems like a big deal.

“Everyone settled?” Tony asks, his gaze lingering on you two. Natasha glares, so he turns around and starts the movie.

After a couple of minutes, you reach forward to open the pack of M&M’s that no one seems to want. You can’t help the laugh when Natasha reaches for them at the same time.

“We can share these too” you say, handing them to her.

Natasha is trying to pay attention to the movie, but you’re shifting in the couch, sometimes your knee brushing against hers. 

“You’re not eating the green ones” she notices, leaning close to you to not interrupt the movie.

“Oh, shit” you laugh, somehow sensing that Natasha wants to know why. “My brother and I would agree to leave those for last, and then split them. Stupid”

“Wouldn’t want to mess with tradition” she says, separating them. You watch her, holding back a smile.

—

“Y/N’s all packed up and ready to go, right?” Steve says, reading over a file. 

“Yeah, she walked by like five minutes ago. Medics gave clearance” Sam says. “It’s just a recon mission, either way”

They’re going back to reviewing the team’s schedule when Natasha sprints past them.

“Yo, what’s going on?” Sam says, hoping there’s no threat to deal with. Steve is about to walk out as well, when he hears Natasha’s words.

“I’m going with Y/N! How could you be so irresponsible to send her away when she just recovered?”

Captain Rogers decides to hide behind the door, Natasha’s anger making him feel small.

“Alright, have a good one” Sam gives her a thumb up, and the redhead just rolls her eyes. He sighs, going back inside.

Steve stays silent for a second.

“The safe house only has one bed” he says, considering if it’s worth telling Natasha that. "Should we tell her?"

“No, thank you”

—

Recon missions suck. 

There, you said it. Unfortunately, those are the most frequent ones for you, as the newest member of the team and being practically unknown to the general population.

You’re walking to your car, hoping the mission can be done quickly. It’s a day and a half and being alone makes it specially boring. As soon as you open the driver’s door, you find Natasha sitting, smiling up at you.

“Jeez! What are you doing here?”

“Backup. Cap asked me to come last minute” 

“Oh” you get quiet, nodding.

Natasha tries to stay neutral when she notices how your face falls. Did she read into the situation? A part of her thought you liked being around her.

Either way, she can’t back out now. Once you’re settled in the car, Natasha drives out of the Compound, to the small office you’re meant to infiltrate.

“Is… did…?” you mumble a couple of times. Natasha keeps a poker face, waiting for you to speak again. With a sigh, you finally let it out. “Did Steve send you to babysit me? He thinks I screwed up because I got injured, doesn’t he?”

“No, it’s nothing like that” Natasha says, mentally kicking herself for rushing to join you. She didn’t even consider your feelings, too eager to spend time together. “I just didn’t like the idea of you going alone”

“Oh” you say again, this time blushing. Natasha can sense something shifts from your tone alone, so she turns to look at you. Your eyes meet hers and you smile. “Yeah, I was actually thinking how boring it was going to be. So, I’m glad you tagged along” 

“I’m glad too” she says, trying not to smile.

“Let’s see if you keep saying that after I put on my roadtrip playlist”

“Bring it”

Natasha tries to enjoy the songs, though she’ll never tell you that pop music isn’t really her thing. What she does enjoy are the gummies you offer. In your words, road snacks are key to the trip.

As you park close to the safe house, you leave your bag in the living room and then go down to around the corner, checking you have everything you need in your jacket pockets. 

“Wanna go over the plan?” Natasha says, trying to keep calm. It’s just a recon mission. You’ll be fine.

“Bug the conference room for the meeting happening tomorrow. Hack into Russo’s computer and download everything. In and out, easy peasy” 

Natasha nods, and you wink at her.

“If I finish in under 10 minutes you buy me dinner”

“Deal” Natasha says, and she wishes she could tell you she’ll buy you dinner no matter what happens.

You finally go, walking up to the building, strolling casually. As you’re about to reach the doors, a man leaves the office and you snatch his ID to get past the gates.

That’s the easy part. Unfortunately, there’s a lot of people in the hallways still, and the office you’re supposed to infiltrate is at the end of the long corridor.

The conference room should be close to the elevator, so you decide to take a look around. As you approach, you hear voices inside.

It will be difficult to bug a room with other people in it.

Looking around, aware that you’ll be suspicious if you just stand there, you think of a way out.

And then you spot the distraction you need.

Well, whatever it takes to get the mission done.

—

Natasha finds a cafeteria that is across the office, and she gets to sit by the window, looking out as you skilfully snatch the ID from someone who’s leaving.

Standard time for a mission like that should be under fifteen minutes. Unfortunately, the man whose ID you stole is coming back exactly five minutes later. 

Natasha’s not sure if he forgot something, or if he noticed he was missing his ID and decided to return for it. The fact of the matter is that if someone notices you used it to get inside, you’ll be in trouble.

She suddenly wishes you had a comm with you so she could help out. Hell, if the man keeps talking to security, Natasha will find a way to make a scene and distract them long enough to get you out.

Just as she’s about to stand up, one of the cleaning staff walks out and hands over the ID. Did you notice what happened and dropped it? Were you still inside? You didn’t need the ID to exit the building, but still.

The man takes his ID, and walks back inside. 

It’s been nine minutes. Natasha will give you five more before she intervenes.

She’s so focused on looking out the window that she misses the moment you step inside the restaurant, and sit in front of her.

“What…? “ the redhead does a doble take, and you take great pride in that.

“Janitor’s closet, grabbed one of their uniforms. Nobody questions cleaning staff”

You pass her the USB, smiling at her shocked expression.

“And you gave him back his ID, as if you weren’t the one who took it”

“All under ten minutes. You know what that means?”

“Of course. Let’s check the menu” Natasha says, smiling at you.

After ordering a couple of cheeseburgers, you read over the desserts.

“We could share a brownie” you say, holding back a smile. You’ve noticed Natasha has a sweet tooth, and is less than inclined to share her food, especially if it’s a dessert.

“Sure” she says after a beat, and you clear your throat, speaking after the waitress leaves.

“You know, I can handle rejection”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’m the youngest of three. I’m used to people telling me to leave their things alone” you say, smiling at her. “If I’m bothering you…”

“I don’t mind sharing” she cuts you off, her shoulders tense. It’s a bit uncomfortable for her to be vulnerable like this. “Not when I’m sharing with you” 

“Oh” you blush, biting your lip. The way her words affect you make Natasha regain some of her confidence. 

“How come you didn’t want to do a recon?”

“I don’t know. I like group missions. Or at least going with someone else. Like I said, I have siblings and I guess being around the team makes me feel like at home”

“Well, I like them because I can take a break from everyone. But that’s just because I’ve been dealing with those boys for years now” she laughs.

“Yeah, I get it. It can feel like a frat house sometimes. Let’s have girls night, no boys allowed” you joke, but perk up a second later. “Wait! That actually sounds fun. Oh my Gosh, we could go to the movies, or a museum, or dinner…”

“Sounds like a date to me” Natasha interrupts your rambling, pleased when you play with your hands.

“Yeah. That could be a date” 

Once the food arrives, you eat and chat. Natasha does agree to sharing dessert, which makes your heart melt a little at the gesture.

The last part of the mission is supposed to happen tomorrow, when a couple of shady businessmen meet at the building you infiltrated. All you have to do is sit and take pictures of whoever walks in, so intelligence can run background checks.

After dinner, you head back to the small apartment. For the first time since you arrived, you walk past the entrance to check the space.

“What’s wrong?” Natasha asks when you come back, fiddling with your hands.

“There’s only one bed”

“Oh”

“You can totally take it, the couch looks fine…”

“No, you’re still recovering, I’ll sleep on the couch”

Natasha and you speak over the other for a few minutes until your voices die down and you stare at each other.

“We could share?” you suggest.

“Ok” Natasha nods, trying to pretend it’s not a big deal.

But when you change into an oversized t-shirt (no shorts because you truly thought you’d be alone here), and lie down in the small bed, your heart is practically beating out of your chest. 

“You ok?” Natasha says, trying not to move.

You give up with a sigh, turning on your side and moving closer, until you’re inches apart.

“Just need to sleep on my side. And I usually hug a pillow. Don’t ask me why, I just do”

“Well… here” Natasha moves even closer, taking your arm. She places it around her waist, and pulls you closer. Your breath hitches for a second, but Natasha smiles reassuringly. “Is this better?”

“Yes”

As a matter of fact, it’s the best sleep either one of you has gotten in years.

—

You’re not in the mood for parties.

But that’s never stopped Tony before.

After waking up cuddling Natasha, (and barely completing the mission because you didn’t want to leave bed) you were eager to ask her out, or have her ask you out. Whichever was fine by you.

But as soon as you parked the car, Cap was waiting with a frown and a big file.

“We leave in an hour” he said, only to Natasha.

Apparently, this was going to be a very demanding mission, and Cap didn’t want you pushing yourself.

So, Natasha, Sam and Steve had been gone for a few days now.

Tony was mildly disappointed, but this was Pepper’s birthday party and he wasn’t about to call it off for a few working Avengers.

Still, you try to cheer up and put on a good face, mainly for Pepper. You’re not sure she really wanted this big of a party, but she seems happy enough.

Most of the people attending are from Stark Industries, so you try to blend in and speak to some of them.

“Hey, do you work in legal?” a young blonde asks when you go get another drink.

“Oh, no, definitely not”

“Thought I knew you. I’m in HR”

“Fun” you say, but the tone you use makes her laugh. Before you can do anything, she changes seats and moves closer to you.

“I’m Sasha”

Reluctantly, you give your name. Even after the bartender hands over another glass of Chardonnay, Sasha keeps talking to you, though she doesn’t really care if you work at Stark Industries or not. After your third glass of wine, you begin to relax, and say a couple of jokes that make her laugh a little too loud.

She’s definitely flirting.

“Wanna take this conversation somewhere else?” she asks and you look around.

“I think I need some air…”

“We could…”

But she doesn’t get to finish her sentence, because Natasha is by your side in an instant. Little drops of water wet your shoulder as she approaches you, having rushed from the shower to see you.

“Hey, detka. Having fun without me?”

“You’re home!” you shout, excited at seeing her again.

“I am. Come on, let’s go to the balcony” she says, taking your hand. You’re halfway there when you remember Sasha, and try to turn back to say goodbye.

“I don’t want to be rude”

“And I said I like to share with you, not share you” 

“Oh” you blush at that, and stay silent as Natasha drags you out of the party. 

“Was that too much?” she asks when you finally get to the balcony.

“No. I just drank too fast and I’m happy to see you” you say, your hands going around her shoulders. 

As if it’s the most natural thing in the world, Natasha holds your waist and pulls you closer to her.

“I’m happy to see you too” she leans her forehead against yours. “And about that date…”

“Yeah, I’m up for it” you confirm with a nod. Your faces are inches apart, and Natasha  can tell you’re sneaking small glances at her lips.

“As for other stuff…” 

“Mhm” you hum, aware that she’s leaning forward. You let her lips meet yours, and the kiss is short but tender. “Will this date have more of these?”

“Hell, yeah” she nods, making you laugh.

“Tomorrow, then?”

“Can’t wait” she nods, kissing you again.

Unfortunately, you’re interrupted by Sam, who is sporting a shit eating grin.

“Anything you two wanna share with the team?”

“No” you answer at the same time.

Some things, are meant to stay between you two. 

[lowkeyerror]

That's actually diabolical

☺️ thank you

[lowkeyerror]

What if... Natasha x Reader angst where they're on Vormir with Clint and reader shoves Clint off the cliff before Natasha has the chance to jump.

Reader doesn't regret it.

Natasha can't forgive them.