Yelena Belova x Reader Stay Out of the Kitchen
Summary: Just a little Thanksgiving short fic. Yelena is a pro in the kitchen you not so much but you can't resist trying to help or stealing bites of food.
You peeked around the corner to see into the kitchen. Yelena was nowhere to be found which meant she had finally stepped out to go grab a few more things from whatever store. She could find that was actually open on Thanksgiving day.
You tried to enter the kitchen unsuccessfully three times this morning. Yelena made you turn around each time with nothing but a stern look. At first you just wanted to do your part and help. It was your first Thanksgiving with her, and even though you were no chef in the kitchen. Like her in the past you would always help whichever friend that would take you in for the holiday. Because anybody that knew you for a while knew that your cooking skills relied on the microwave and the toaster oven.
So cooking your extravagant feast was out of the question. So usually a close friend would let you come over and to contribute. You would do little things like give them whatever kitchen utensil they needed, or get all of the necessary seasonings for them. Not to mention you were good at keeping an close eye on the food to make sure it didn't burn. You burned enough dishes in the past to spot it coming from a mile away.
But unlike your friends Yelena didn't really require your assistance in the kitchen. She preferred to cook alone, and you already knew that. Plus it wasn't like she tried to let you hang out with her while she cooked. Yelena started cooking the night before, and was enjoying your company. Until she turned back around to find you trying to sneak a piece of cake. You promised not to do it again, but it was too late she threw you over her shoulder, and carried you to the bedroom.
You knew that you didn't have a lot of time before she returned from the store. You just wanted to peek at the food and see what was done. It was still early in the day but you were starving. Once you saw how many dishes were done you would know how much longer the wait would be. There were pans of food all around the kitchen island. You counted at least ten and there were two cakes sitting on the counter across from the island.
It seemed like the only thing really missing was the turkey and ham. Yelena insisted on doing both even though you told her it was okay to pick one. The first thing that crossed your mind was who was going to help the two of you eat all this food. It didn't make any sense to cook so much considering she refused to invite the Avengers.
"You're my family dekta I just want to spend the day with you and only you." She told you.
You respected her wishes since you weren't inviting any of your friends, and your family wasn't exactly in your life right now. But you wondered if she planned on changing her mind or giving them plates tomorrow. Maybe Melina and Alexei were going to drop by. You wouldn't be surprised her parents were unpredictable.
You gazed over the food until the mouth watering oreo cheesecake caught your eye. It was your all time favorite dessert, and Yelena told you that she wasn't sure. She could fit onto the menu for Thanksgiving obviously she played you. Your stomach started growling and you knew right then. You had to have just one small bite right off the top l. Yelena wouldn't even notice.
Grabbing a spoon out of the draw you moved in for the kill. When a pair of strong arms wrapped around your waist from behind, and with pulled you back into their chest.
"I knew you wouldn't behave while I stepped out. Were you pretending to be sleep so I would leave you alone with the food?" Yelena whispered into your ear nuzzling her face into your neck.
You chuckled nervously trying to wiggle out of her grip. She tightened her hold on you instead. "I was just going to taste test it."
"Are you trying to say my food needs to be tested you naughty girl?" She asked her gaze hardening.
"No no not at all love I just" you denied as quickly as you could. But tried to come up with a lie at the same time but failed.
"I was trying to sneak some cheesecake" you admitted.
She shook her head turning your body around in her arms, so you were facing her. "The cheesecake was supposed to be a surprise y/n for behaving while I cooked, and following my kitchen rules."
You hung your head in shame knowing that she would probably take it away as punishment now. But her finger caught your chin lifting your face to make you look her in the eyes again. "Since it is Thanksgiving and you behaved mostly I'll let it go this once."
Your eyes lit up with joy as you threw your arms around her neck. Pulling her into a tight hug "you're the best girlfriend ever." You murmured into her hair
"I know I am" Yelena replied keeping her arms wrapped around your waist for a minute. Until you finally pulled away to plant a kiss on her cheek. She gently cupped your face and to pull you back in. Her lips crashing into yours in a soft makeout session.
When she swung you around to you were facing doorway leading to the dining room. Yelena pulled away, turned you around, and gave your butt a firm slap causing you to yelp and leap away from her. "Now go set the table and stay out of my kitchen for the next hour."
You opened your mouth to insist that you needed the plates and things from the kitchen.
She cut you off "everything you need is already in there love go."
Deciding that it was best to just listen you went into the kitchen and started setting the table. Even though you figured it would just be you and her. You made set out plates for five people the size of her family plus you. While she was busy putting the finishing touch on the food. You snuck off to the guest bedroom for your her surprise. It took you forever and almost your life savings to secure it. But you knew how much it would mean to her to have it again. You pulled a chest from under the bed and opened it revealing a green and black vest. There was some damage to it, and while you were tempted to repair it. Ultimately you decided to live that up to her.
"Y/N come down it's time to eat love. The sooner you get food the sooner you can have the cheesecake." Yelena called you from the dining room setting the last of the food out on the table.
You can flying down the stairs with the vest tucked away safely in a box. Yelena caught you by the waist as you came sliding into the kitchen. "Slow down love the cheesecake isn't going anywhere."
"I know but I wanted to give you something before we eat. Here it took me forever to find it but it's legit I promise." You held out the box to her with a small smile.
Yelena took the box giving you a questioning look. As she set it down on the table and went to open it. You watched her in anticipation too see her reaction, and when she finally opened the box. You found yourself hugging her from behind. Yelena made no noise bit you saw how her shoulders shook from the intensity of her cries. One of her hands came up to hold onto yours as her tears fell out to vest.
"How" was the only word that left her mouth before the sobbing took over.
"I reached out to Wanda and Clint they went to the Avengers compound wreckage, and searched until they found it." You explained pressing your lips to her hair.
"I need to thank them I should've invited them" she said.
"It's early my love we can go visit them later I mean we do have a quinjet at our disposal." You reminded her.
Yelena finally turned around in your arms clutching the vest to her chest. "I love you "y/n happy Thanksgiving and thank you."
"I love you too Lena, happy Thanksgiving and thank you for making my life so much better." You replied continuing to hold on to her. You would hold onto her for a very long time, and you didn't mind not one bit.
Taglist: @wandanatvoid @yelenabelovasgf @romanoffomixam @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @xxromanoffxx
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Love with Ice ↭ Yelena Belova
Pairing: Yelena Belova x Reader
Summary: Yelena was raised to believe that love is a child's thing, you tried to prove otherwise.
Warnings: angst without a happy ending.
A/N¹: Based on the song Amor con Hielo by Morat.
Heartbreaking Week - Masterlist
When you met Yelena, you knew she was different. You didn't want to cross the boundaries of her past, you never wanted to leave her in a cul-de-sac, so you never forced any conversation or occasion that made her uncomfortable. She was a trained assassin, and you were an empath mutant.
In the beginning, it was hard to try to demonstrate and prove that love wasn't wrong. That love was a beautiful feeling and that there was nothing to be afraid of feeling it, but she had been taught that love was a weakness and a child's game. You had patience with her, patience to try to win her over in every way you could think of. Actions, words, didn't seem to be enough for her.
As an empath, you knew that she lived in constant battles of feelings, and that she hid herself in little jokes and sarcastic comments. It was like a defensive mechanism. But with your human side, you didn't know what else to do. You didn't want to be just a one-night stand or a kiss of comfort in a desperate situation.
You learned from your parents, that in war and love everything counts. Yelena taught you that there are victories that are paid back with pain. That one day there was peace, and the next there was absolutely nothing. So, you were not surprised when she decided to leave.
At the city train station, she, accompanied by her dog (which you had already forgotten the name of), you vowed to forget that moment. The farewell, the empty look, and even in the midst of pain, you swore 'I will wait for you here'.
Days, months, a year went by, and she didn't come back. As much as your heart and your head messed with you, by remembering her, you met someone else. Kate Bishop. Soon the connection was made, and you fell in love. But rumors were quick to spread, like the wind. And one night you had a visitor.
Yelena appeared at the door of your apartment, wine in hand and dressed casually. Her hair seemed longer, and she looked more physically healthy. She stared at you for a few minutes until you invited her in.
She quickly noticed that you were living with someone else, because you had changed the decor. She noticed pictures on the walls of you and Kate, and she let out a giggle.
“What was it, Yelena?” You asked from afar, noticing her every action.
“Looks like you jumped off the boat faster than I did.” She said, pointing to a picture of you kissing Kate.
“You were the first one out of the 'boat.'” You gestured with your fingers. “In the end the boat sank, I got the mermaid, and you drowned.”
Yelena laughed sarcastically, in a high-pitched tone, and placed the wine on your dining table. She turned to you, with a different look on her face.
“I hate it when you talk like that.” She said seriously. “You owe me, you said you would wait for me.
“I owe you?” You put your hands on your waist and laughed out loud, you looked at her and arched your eyebrow. “Me? I owe you?” She nodded in agreement, and you stepped closer, placing a finger on her chest and said in a serious tone. “You're gone, I didn't hear from you for a year, I swore you were dead.” You pressed your finger to her chest and looked at her furiously. “I loved you and had patience, I never overstepped your boundaries. I waited for you to get along, but you chose to leave.” She lowered her gaze to your finger, and you quickly removed it, walking away. “Don't come begging me for anything, I don't owe you anything.”
“You don't love me anymore?” She said in a low tone.
You looked away, focusing on a mark on the wall of your apartment, you took a deep breath until you met her gaze again.
“No. And as much as I missed you, time passed, and I put away what it felt like to love you.” You confessed. “I had hidden it so well that I had lost the feeling.”
“And the love?” she asked, stepping closer.
“I tried to save all your love with ice, but it died.”
“I had my problems understanding.” Yelena said, turning around, you could have sworn you saw tears in her eyes.
“I gave you the time you needed to understand.” You sighed, sitting down on the couch. “Yelena, I waited for you for a year.”
Yelena sat on the coffee table and looked at you, you saw her hands hesitate to take yours. You sensed a feeling of desperation in her.
“I'm sorry, please.” Yelena pleaded, no longer struggling to hold back the tears. “We can try again.”
“Lena, no.” You said, and stood up, running away from that flood of feelings. “That's unfair to me.”
Yelena stood up, walked over to you, standing in front of you. She held your face with her hands and looked you in the eyes.
“I will never forgive myself for losing you.”
Taglist: @chasethemoon - @imfuckinggenius - @likefirenrain - @tsmukanii - @donnietarantino - @mindofwesley - @ymzki-haruki - @mycosmicparadise - @marvelwomen-simp - @Dumbassbitchwithnotits - @hallecarey1 - @xxromanoffxx - @evilcr0ne - @samwilsonismine - @xxromanoffxx - @roseeditsss - @romanoffomixam - @wandaswifeyforlifey - @moon-faun - @ic-4u - @1uthina
(Let me know if you want to be added or removed from the taglist)
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Yelena stealing you away to make her “dream family”
take my hand (18+ only)
all my stuff
pairing: dark!yelena x reader
warnings: kidnapping, dark!themes, 18+ only, forced pregnancy but nothing explicit
a/n: hello gays!! this is the first part of my 500 follower celebration :) my original plan was to post a new story every day for a week, but i am tired so I'll be updating kind of loosey-goosey as usual. thanks to everyone who sent in a request or followed :)) all of your feedback means the world to me!!
Yelena Belova had plenty of female friends in her life, but none of them were quite like you.
Hanging out with mostly child assassins, none of her friends had ever been as affectionate with her as you are. None so open with their love for her. And even though you never think twice about it, Yelena can’t help the way her knees buckle and her jaw clenches as you pull her into a tight hug or snuggle against her as you two spend the whole afternoon watching shitty TV on the couch. She smiles when you allow her to rub small circles on your arm as you lean against her. When you’re drunk, it’s not uncommon to find yourself in Yelena’s bed, murmuring a happy “I’m so glad we’re friends,” before falling asleep next to her.
When you’re sad, too, you head over to Yelena’s apartment (unannounced but always invited) and throw a blanket over you two, tucking yourself under her arm. Sometimes you ask her to listen while you rant about your shitty day and other times you’re just a little more content in her company. And, in those times, Yelena is a little more content too; she loves feeling needed by you. The Russian wraps her arm around you just a little tighter, admiring the way you settle closer to her, completely comfortable with her.
Oftentimes, you find yourselves sitting in her kitchen late at night: her hovering over the stove making hot chocolate and you propped on the floor, scrolling through your phone.
“What are you doing for the holidays, by the way, Lena?” you ask one cold December night, reaching up from your spot on the floor to unplug your phone from her charger.
She only snorts, causing you to raise a brow.
“What?” you ask, taking a break from Twitter to look up at her.
“That’s a dumb question,” she answers, shrugging.
You make a fake-hurt noise. “Well, I guess I’m dumb, then.”
“I already knew that.”
You giggle. “Enlighten me then, smartass.”
“I’m an assassin—“
“—former assassin,” you interject.
“Right, former assassin, turned basically government employee. Dead sister. Dead parents. I don’t have a family. What the hell would I be doing for the holidays?”
Guilt racks you for not thinking about that. You stand up, immediately going to wrap your arms around her, squeezing as you pull her into a warm hug. “I’m sorry, Lena,” you whisper. “I didn’t know.”
And God, normally she can’t stand pity (“empathy” you try and insist when she makes fun of you for comforting her), but if she’s being completely honest with herself, she doesn’t really mind when it comes from you.
She returns the embrace, kissing you on the cheek. “It’s ok. I’m fine with it, you know,” she explains, pulling you back and looking at you closely.
“Come join us this year, Len. My mom would love another person to compliment her cooking.”
She laughs. “I’ll be alright. I enjoy the time to myself.”
“Are you sure?”
Still unconvinced, you decide to drop the topic for now. Yelena is as stubborn as they come. You grab two mugs from the cabinet, sliding her the one you know is her favorite. She grins internally when you choose the chipped one that completes the set and matches with her own.
Once she’s done, you carefully sit down on the couch with your drinks, comfortable silence hanging between you two as you throw your feet in her lap and she switches to a random channel.
“You’re wrong by the way,” you say eventually.
She smirks. “You always seem to be saying that. About what this time?”
“You do have a family. I’m your family, you know. You have a key to my apartment. You slept on my couch naked after Tony’s last office party. I mean, if that’s not family, I don’t know what is.” She smiles bashfully, squeezing your knee.
You punch her shoulder. “Of course, idiot. Besides, you’re a catch, Len. One day you’ll trick some poor woman into marrying you and have a ‘real’ family of your own. Maybe a little Yelena running around—God help us.” She laughs at your insult, cursing at you in Russian. She can’t verbalize why, but it stings in a small way for you to talk about her marrying someone else. Someone who isn’t… she shakes her head, pushing away the thought.
You both fall asleep like that, your legs in Yelena’s lap, her head resting on her hand. The sound of your phone ringing pulls you out of your dreams. You glance at the incessant machine, annoyed until you see the mess of emojis that serve as the contact name. “Hello?” you answer, still groggy.
Yelena stirs too and rubs her eyes, checking her phone for the time.
“Yeah, yeah, of course,” you speak into the phone. “Sorry, I’m at Lena’s still. I fell asleep.”
The blonde stifles a yawn and tries to get in your eye-line to grab your attention. You ignore her distractions and check your watch.
“Yeah no. Oh—okay, I’m glad. Meet you in like an hour then?”
Yelena pinches your leg, finally getting you to flick your eyes up to her own, and mouths ‘Who?’ You shush her with a wave.
“Alright, see you then. Can’t wait.” You finally hang up the phone. “Do you have to be so annoying every time I’m on the phone?” you yawn in her direction.
“Who was that?” she asks. Casual. Gotta keep it casual.
“I can’t believe I forgot to tell you when I got here: I’m kinda seeing someone.”
Her heart leaps to the bottom of her throat. “What?” That earlier sting is back, though this time it’s amplified to a million and accompanied by a wave of ebbing anger. The same anger she fights hard to suppress every time she goes with you to a club and sees you running your hand down another woman’s arm.
“Yeah we meet a while ago, but recently we’ve been hanging out a lot more. It’s super casual right now, but she keeps trying to have the exclusive talk.”
“Seems like she does a lot of talking. You couldn’t get a word in.”
You laugh. “Yeah, she’s chatty, I guess.”
“And you don’t want to?”
“Want to what?”
“Go exclusive. Date her.”
You shrug. “She’s great, but how much can you know about a person after a few weeks? I want to give it more time. It’s easier to end a hookup than a relationship.” You laugh at the thought. “Who knows she could be a total crazy person.”
“Well, that’s great, Y/N,” Yelena grits out. “I’m really happy for you.”
“Thanks,” you say, ignoring her weird mood. She gets into them sometimes, but you never mind, figuring a former child assassin is entitled to their quirks. “Besides I should be the one thanking you.”
She chuckles, but it’s strained slightly. “How come?”
“I’m pretty sure the only reason we went on that first date is that she saw you on my Instagram. She’s, like, obsessed with you. You got me laid,” you joke, raising your hand.
With rolled eyes, Yelena scoffs and waves away the gesture. You high-five yourself before returning your hands to your lap. Talking about intimate stuff always makes her uncomfortable. What you don’t know is that that on top of being uncomfortable, her blood is boiling and it’s taking all the self-control she has not to find this girl and wring her neck out right now.
No, she can't do that. She realizes now what she needs. What’s been killing her ever since that night you were both drunk and made out in the Uber on the way back to your apartment. She knows what she needs and right now she needs to be patient. She needs a plan.
As soon as the episode of Masterchef wraps up, you sigh dramatically before pushing yourself off of her couch. “Alright, I’m headed out, lovey. See you after the new year.”
The blonde sits up, watching as you gather your things, scattered randomly around her living room, pretending it doesn’t kill her that she knows where you’re going after this.
You eventually throw your bag over your shoulder, having recollected yourself, though no doubt leaving another trace of you behind to add to the collection. A hair tie on her coffee table. The newspaper you tucked under her stool so it stopped wobbling. Your second-favorite book laying facedown on her desk. A million little pieces of you everywhere.
The sound of the door opening breaks her train of thought. “Lena?” you ask.
“Are you sure you want to be alone for the holidays? We would love to have you.”
She can’t help but beam at your question. The one you already asked. The one you were so insistent on finding her true answer to.
“I’m sure, Y/N. I’ll see you soon.”
“OK, fine. Love you!” You yell over your shoulder, walking into the brisk night air. “Text me!”
Yelena smiles and waves stupidly at the empty door frame. “Love you,” she whispers.
A couple weeks later, you wake up with a start, your lips dry and cracked. You panic when you don’t recognize the room, but relax once you notice Yelena next to you, no doubt playing Solitaire on her phone. It wasn’t the first time you woke up next to her, nursing a horrible hangover.
“Morning,” she murmurs.
“Morning, Len,” you husk, reaching over her to grab her glass of water from the side table. It does little to help the incessant pounding in your head, but at least your throat isn’t as dry. “Fuck, did we take shots last night? You know I can’t go drink-for-drink with you.”
Yelena laughs. “No, of course not. You can’t drink.”
You lean back against the headboard, trying to piece together the past twelve hours. You had plans to meet with her after you got back. Despite yourself, you can’t remember anything past getting in your car and driving back to your apartment from your parent’s place on January 2nd. You remember getting back into your building, turning your keys in your lock, and then… nothing. “What—what happened last night?” You look around you. “Where are we?”
“Massachusetts,” she answers calmly.
“Christ, we must have fucked up badly to end up in Mass. What happened last night? I thought we were just going to watch a movie.”
“Nothing happened last night. We’ve been here for a couple days.”
“Days? Where is ‘here’?”
You roll your eyes. “Stop being so weird, Len. What’s actually going on?”
“It’s not your fault that you’re confused, malysh. I think that’s the sleeping pills wearing off. Sorry for keeping you under for so long, but I took good care of you. I just needed to make sure it worked.” She’s speaking in the same way she does when you get her started on vests or Grease 2 or the best boxed mac and cheese. Borderline manic. Like she needs you to understand.
“Wha-what are you talking about, Yelena?” You pull the covers off, standing beside the bed. “This isn’t funny.” Before she can respond, a wave of nausea hits you and you scramble for the trash can that she had placed next to the bed last night, kneeling over as you retch. Yelena is quick to slide over the bed and grab your hair, holding it back.
“Fuck.” You spit out the bile in your mouth.
She quickly braids your hair in a loose plait, tucking the hanging pieces behind your ears before guiding you to your feet. “Let’s get you some water, Y/N.”
“Do you have coffee?”
She guides you outside the bedroom and to the kitchen. You sit down at the breakfast nook, something you once told Yelena you would love to have one day and watch her curiously as she works in the kitchen. The fridge is fully stocked with a notepad on a magnet hanging off. It doesn’t look like a vacation rental or Airbnb. “Yelena, what the fuck is going on?” you finally ask. “Why are we here? How long have we been here?”
She grimaces as if she wasn’t expecting you to be so insistent on these questions so soon. She had meticulously planned everything up until now, but this part, the telling you part, she had always left blank. She places the glass of water on the table and kneels in front of you.
“This is our home,” she starts. “We’ve been here about a week.”
“Huh?” you ask, unamused. There’s no way you’ve been here that long. Not unless… but no that’s crazy. She would never.
“Y/N, do you remember what you said to me the night before you went home?”
“I don’t know, Len, we talk about a lot of stuff. What does that have to do—”
“You called me your family.” The words spill out of her mouth before you can finish, seemingly beyond her control.
“Uh, yeah, I remember.”
“And when you said that, that’s when it all made sense. Don’t you see, Y/N?” she’s gone manic again, words escaping her rather than being spoken. You instinctually grab her hand as if that contact can tether her back to her normal state of mind. To reality. To you.
But it doesn’t work. She’s raving now. “I realized that I’ve had this hole,” she grabs her chest, “most of my life and ever since they died, ever since Nat—” her voice cracks and she recollects herself with a quiet clearing of her throat. “Ever since then, you’ve been the only person who has come close to filling that hole.”
You stare at her. Unsure what to say anymore.
“I love you, Y/N.”
That you can work with. The words you and Yelena have exchanged a thousand times before now. You smile warmly. “I love you, too, Lena. Always. You know that.”
“You’ll marry me, then?”
You laugh, just once, purely because if you had been given a thousand guesses, you never could have predicted what Lena had just asked you.
“Think about it, Y/N, we’re perfect together. Nothing has to change.”
You study her face, begging every deity for some sign of her not being serious. Yelena loves fucking with you. Maybe this is some dumb joke. A prank she’s taking way too far. But you can’t find the slight quirk of the lips that always gives her away.
“Lena, we’re friends—best friends, but nothing more. What’s gotten into you?”
“No, no, I know, and the best relationships start out that way. I read that in a magazine once.”
A quiet “Yelena” is all you can manage. You pull your hand out of hers. She’s not joking.
“We’re going to be happy together. A real family. All three of us,” she insists, slipping her fingers under the bottom hem of your t-shirt and tracing them lightly around your core. She stops her movements, laying her hand flat against your lower belly. The way someone would touch a—
“Yelena, what the fuck did you do?” You push her away from you, standing up to put distance between you two and grabbing your own arm for comfort. “I-I never puke when I’m hungover. And since when do you care if I drink coffee?”
“Of course, you’re not hungover, darling. I didn’t tell you the best part yet.” She grabs a small blue stick from her back pocket, proudly placing it on the table between you two. “I would never let you drink alcohol while you’re carrying our baby.”
You snatch the pregnancy test. Two thin pink lines stare menacingly back at you. It bounces a few times as it hits the hardwood floor. Your knees give out but Yelena is quick to catch you before you fall, guiding you back up and practically carrying you to the couch in the living room, only a few feet away from the kitchen door.
“Don’t FUCKING touch me!” you scream as she goes to sit down next to you, throwing your head into your hands.
“I know it’s a lot to process—” she starts, sitting down anyway and rubbing your back.
“‘A lot to process.’ Jesus fucking Christ, Len, you’re clinical.”
“Y/N, I bought this house for us. You’ll love it here. It has a breakfast nook and two bay windows, just like you always talked about.”
“If you think I’m going to stay here with you, you’re out of your mind, Yelena,” you spit back at her.
Her nostrils flare, but she rubs her hand against her thigh to calm herself down. “You don’t have a choice, Y/N. You love me. You told me yourself and you never lie.” Your skin crawls. Yelena is so much stronger than you. So much faster. If she wants you here, she’s right: you don’t have a choice.
“I don’t love you because, apparently, I don’t fucking know you, Lena. I never did.”
“No, no, you do. Everything, everything so far has been the real me. You know me and I know you.” She chuckles and the laugh that you normally find so charming sends a shiver down your spine. “You're the smartest person I know but I also know how stubborn you are. You would never have seen how perfect we are together if I hadn’t forced you to. And you will, baby, you will soon.”
Your heart breaks with every word. How could someone you considered your best friend, your most trusted confidant, the person you know best do this to you?
“I hate you,” you say, looking up at her through wet eyelashes.
She frowns and the part of you that loves Yelena, the part that you think will always love Yelena, winces, guilty for making the normally stoic woman so sad. “I know you do right now, but you’ll change your mind.” She grabs your wrist, too tightly for you to pull away so you stop trying. “You’ve never been able to stay mad at me for long, darling. Once you see our child's face staring up at you, you'll see I'm right.”
And that stubbornness you'd once admired has morphed into this ugly obsession. You know she's made her mind up on this and try as you might, it's impossible to change Yelena's mind.
“Lena, Nat wouldn’t want you to do this," you implore. It's a last-ditch effort, but you're desperate.
“SHE’S NOT HERE!” the blonde bellows, tiny flecks of spit hitting your cheek. You feel like her voice is shaking the foundation of the house—your house now. Your prison. “She left me! Just like you would have left me, too. Everyone does. But I can’t lose you, Y/N. I refuse.”
Her grip on your wrist is painfully tight now. You’re sure there will be four long, thin bruises wrapped around it tomorrow. Yelena sees the fear on your face and lets go, instead pulling you tightly against her. She runs her hand soothingly through your hair, undoing the loose braid with her fingers.
“I’m so sorry, baby. I will never lay a hand on you,” she promises with a whisper, “but you should know if you somehow find a way to make it past the thirty locks on that door or the bulletproof windows, there isn’t a force on this planet that will stop me from finding you. You’re mine darling. Always.”
A small sob racks your body and Yelena does what she always does when you're upset. She pulls you a little closer and kisses the crown of your head, admiring the smell of your shampoo.
“We’re going to be so happy, Y/N. Our own little family.”
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