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YN’s day was already ruined before the boarding pass mix-up. But somehow, a frantic sprint through the airport leaves her sitting in first class on a private charter flight carrying the Arsenal and Barcelona first teams for a massive overseas exhibition. Surrounded by millionaire athletes, YN just wants to put her headphones in and survive the flight.
She doesn't realize she'll literally be fighting to survive.
When the plane is torn apart mid-air and crashes on a remote, uncharted island, the rules of the real world disappear. Millions of dollars, global fame, and on-pitch rivalries mean nothing in the jungle. As the survivors band together, YN finds herself caught between clashing egos, unexpected romances and realizing they're not as alone as she thought.
the role you made me play of the fool, how you laugh when you lie, i got a list of names and yours is in red underlined. oh, look what you made me do.
i do not give permission for my work to be copied or translated on other sites. plagiarism is a crime!!
→ warnings: killing, blood, cheating, cannibalism, crazy as fuck reader. read at your own risk.
masterlist || whispers of heartache m.list
Tomorrow is Wanda’s birthday.
And today, I found out she’s having an affair with my sister.
Not rumors.
Not messages.
Not suspicions.
I walked into our bedroom and saw them — naked, tangled, moaning like nothing in the world existed except their filthy little secret. In our bed. The bed I bought. The bed where she used to whisper that she loved me.
My blood went cold. My hands trembled. Wanda noticed me first, her eyes widening, her lips still swollen from kissing my sister.
She covered my sister’s body with the blanket as if she were protecting something precious.
Protecting her.
Not me.
I laughed. I don’t even know why. Maybe because it finally made sense — why she’d been distant, cold, avoiding my touch.
Why she flinched when I said “I love you.”
“Y/N,” she breathed, voice shaky. “I—I can explain.”
“No need,” I replied. “I get it.”
Later, she broke up with me. Said she didn’t love me anymore. Said she was in love with my sister.
𖤇──────⊹⊱✫⊰⊹──────𖤇
The scent of synthetic frosting and expensive perfume was a cruel mockery of what today marked: Wanda's birthday. The betrayal was still a raw, jagged wound — a scene seared into my memory, witnessed in the unforgivable intimacy of our own bed. Fury had been a hot, blinding flash, but the breakup that followed was a slow, deliberate twist of the knife.
“I don't love you anymore. I'm in love with your sister.”
In love your face, asshole. The words were a bitter mantra.
Despite the wreckage, a perverse logic took hold. We had loved each other. The habit of devotion, the ache of loss — they didn't vanish overnight. I decided I would still attend. I would play my part.
Pathetic, right?
I arrived at the party, a polished veneer of civility masking the ice in my veins. Wanda spotted me immediately, the moment she saw me, her face lit up like I was the only person she wanted to see. Her eyes widening with a flicker of something close to relief, or maybe guilt.
“Thank you for coming, Y/N. I know we're not on good terms right now, but I'm truly happy that you're here,” she said, her voice genuinely soft.
“It's no problem,” I replied, the practiced smile feeling strange on my face. “I can put aside our problems for now. Just enjoy your party.”
She reached out as if she wanted to touch my arm, but she stopped herself.
Good girl.
Tony, bless his oblivious heart, joined us shortly after. “Hi, ladies!”
“Hey, Tony,” Wanda smiled.
“Enjoying your party?”
“Yes, thank you for this.”
“No worries, I’ll leave you two alone,” he said before excusing himself, walking toward the other guests, leaving a pleasant space of noise and light around us.
“So, I saw you holding something when you got here,” Wanda prompted, her curiosity peaking. “What is it?”
My lips curled.
A genuine, chilling smile stretched across my lips. “Oh, yes. I almost forgot.”
I pulled the small, heavy box from my bag and placed it carefully in front of her.
“Oh my god, you didn't have to!” she gasped, already reaching for it.
“Nah, it's fine,” I said, my innocent look flawless.
She opened the box and gasped again, recognizing the distinctive, deep color and dense crumb of the Waldorf-Astoria Red Velvet Cake.
Her absolute favorite.
“So... you like it?"” I asked.
“Like it? I love it!” she happily replied, already in bliss.
I hummed, retrieved a small fork, and passed it to her. “Go on, it's all yours.”
She mouthed a silent thank you and took her first bite, her eyes closing in bliss.
She moaned softly.
My stomach fluttered.
Of course she loves it.
Her expression softening into pure enjoyment. “Where did you buy this? I love the taste of it, it's so good!”
I didn't answer, instead watching her closely, savoring the moment of her happiness.
Then, the party atmosphere dissolved as a sense of cold dread entered my periphery. I looked past Wanda and saw my parents approaching, their faces etched with deep, unmistakable worry.
“What's wrong?” I quietly asked, my voice flat.
My mother's eyes were wide, darting nervously around the room. “Where is your sister? Have you seen her?”
I shrugged nonchalantly, forcing a casual lack of concern. “No, why?”
“We haven't seen her since last night,” Dad said, his hand rubbing Mom's back in a futile attempt at comfort.
“She probably just enjoying her life out there,” I dismissed it with a wave.
I turned back to Wanda as my parents walked away, presumably to continue their search, their distress a dull, distant hum.
I smiled, seeing Wanda so wonderfully engaged with the cake, her cheeks full, lipstick smudged, happily devouring the cake, which was now almost finished. I looked down at the dark, rich red velvet, and the memory returned — not as a flash of anger, but as a detailed, step-by-step account of meticulously planned closure.
FLASHBACK
I sent the text, knowing how easily my sister would fall into the trap of false intimacy.
Y/N: hey, sister. I might hate you right now but do you mind helping me bake a cake for wanda?
Y/S/N: no, not at all. where are you?
Y/N: I'll send you my location, I'll wait for you, be quick.
Y/S/N: okay, see you!
I stood inside my private workshop. The location was the old, unused cabin property far upstate. Remote, and currently uninhabited. The walls were lined with soundproofing foam. The floor was concrete. Sterile. Easy to clean.
No neighbors.
No cameras.
No witnesses.
It was perfect. I put the phone away and waited, the patience of a predator settling into my bones.
When she arrived, she looked tentative, burdened by guilt, which was exactly what I needed. “Hey, so uhm, shall we start?” she asked awkwardly.
“We shall,” I replied, my half-smile carefully calibrated to suggest vulnerability and forgiveness.
We walked inside. Before following her deeper into the structure, I paused, glancing deliberately around the desolate acreage. I closed the door with a precise, final click.
“So, this place is yours?” she asked, attempting small talk, hoping to erase the tension.
“Yes. I love it,” I hummed, walking past the kitchen area and deeper into the main room.
“I love it too, the atmosphere is so nice. It feels... private.” she continued, attempting to keep the conversation light. “How about you?”
I stopped and turned, letting the innocent smile drop away entirely. I paused for a slow, terrifying second, letting my eyes rake over her face. “What I love here is when you scream for help, no one will hear you.”
“And who said I'm joking? Try screaming now, darling. Because that might be the last time.”
The air seized. I produced the long, shining knife, its blade reflecting the dim cabin light. Her face crumpled into fear and drained of its color.
“Y/N, stop, please! I'm sorry, okay? Please, don’t do this — I’m your sister!” Tears flowed freely now.
“My sister?” I scoffed. “How ironic. Did you even think of that when you decided to fuck my girlfriend in our bed?” My voice was low, lethal, yet calm.
I felt the pure, cold thrill of justified rage.
“Please, please... I-If you want, I'll avoid her. I—I’ll stop seeing her and t-tell her to be w-with you again!” she begged, trying desperately to trade her life for a worthless promise.
“Oh, sweetheart,” I whispered, brushing her cheek with the cold blade. I let out a short, hollow laugh. "Really? You think you can un-betray me? Nah. This is way more fun, don't you think?"
I moved closer, deliberately slowing my actions, making the terror last. I reached out, not with the blade, but with the flat of the steel, dragging it slowly down the front of her shirt, watching her breath hitch and her eyes water with unbearable dread.
I pressed the tip against her stomach.
She whimpered.
“You're a great begger, now I see why she fell in love with you,” I mocked, withdrawing the knife only to plunge it, with cold precision, into her abdomen.
Slowly.
Deliberately.
The knife sank into her flesh, her skin tearing like wet paper. Warm blood spilled over my hand.
A raw, ragged scream tore from her throat. A beautiful, raw sound, swallowed instantly by the heavy insulation of the cabin walls.
I twisted the blade.
Her knees buckled, but I held her upright, watching her eyes fill with agony and betrayal.
“You took something from me,” I whispered. “So I’m taking something from you.”
I pulled the now-stained blade out, watching her collapse, clutching at the wound, whimpering pleas.
I didn't stop.
I stabbed, again and again and again, with a practiced, methodical rhythm, the sound of the blade meeting flesh, bone, and wood the only music in the room.
Her blood sprayed across my face, warm and metallic. The floor became slick with it. Her breathing turned wet and gurgling.
I felt nothing but the final, satisfying release of pressure when she finally went still, her eyes vacant, the silence complete.
I let her body fall.
“God, you're no fun,” I whispered, disappointed by the lack of challenge, by the sudden emptiness of the scene.
But I wasn’t done.
“Whatever. Let's just hope you taste good in red velvet.”
I dragged her to the stainless steel table.
Her skin was pale, lips blue, eyes glassy.
“I hope you taste as sweet as she thinks you are,” I muttered.
I cleaned my knife, humming softly.
Then I began carving. I began the grueling, necessary task, the knife now taking on a new, utilitarian purpose.
Removing muscle. Fat. Bone.
Separating flesh like a butcher preparing fine meat.
Every cut was a final act of erasure, ensuring that the red velvet was the only true star of Wanda's birthday.
The smell of iron and raw meat filled the room, but I had grown used to it.
I marinated the chosen cuts with cocoa, sugar, vanilla.
Ground them into batter.
Mixed them with red coloring and cream cheese frosting.
Baked them into a perfect mini cake.
A labor of love.
A gift.
A punishment.
A masterpiece.
When I finally placed the finished cake into the box, I kissed the lid.
“Happy birthday, Wanda.”
𖤇──────⊹⊱✫⊰⊹──────𖤇
“That was like the best cake ever!” Wanda exclaimed, licking frosting from her finger, snapping me out of the vivid reconstruction.
“I'm glad that it tastes good,” I replied, taking a casual sip of water to hide the tremor in my hand and the genuine, satisfied smirk that threatened to break through my smile.
“I love it, thank you,” she finished, leaning back, blissfully unaware.
I raised my glass to my lips, pretending to drink.
I watched her swallow another bite.
Another piece of the woman she claimed to love.
I leaned back, satisfaction spreading through me.
I'm sure you really love it, Wanda. I thought, looking at the remnants of the red velvet and the faint, sweet trace on her lips. you’re eating the person you left me for. And you don’t even know it.
The perfect cake, the perfect revenge.
i should be in a psych ward or something. i'm actually really insane, it just doesn't look like it.
note: my request for unwritten fics on whispers of heartache are open! please note that it was inspired by the songs hence the titles, make sure it's connected!
Summary: After the fall of the Avengers, Natasha Romanoff returns home to her secret family—a life she's carefully hidden away for years. Struggling to balance her role as a mother and wife while avoiding the dangers of her past, Natasha is forced to make difficult decisions that impact her loved ones.
This Chapter: Thanos has too much power in his hands and changes the world with a simple snap of his fingers. Set during Infinity War
There’s something about the way Natasha kissed you. Her lips were always soft and warm, moving slowly as if savoring every second. She trailed her fingers along your hip, her touch gentle and reassuring. You were both tangled up in the sheets, nestled close, listening to the quiet rhythm of each other’s breathing.
When the need for air became too much she pulled back just a little, her forehead resting against yours, her thumb tracing gentle circles over your side. Her eyes were soft, carrying that familiar look of quiet affection.
“Stay a little longer?” You asked softly, reaching up to brush a lock of red hair from her face. "In bed with me. The kids aren't awake."
Natasha smiled, her hand covering yours. “I can manage that,” she whispered, her voice barely above a breath. For a moment, the world outside didn’t exist. It was just the two of you, wrapped in warmth and each other.
Her hand slipped under your shirt, her touch trailing lightly over the skin. The two of you shifted just enough to remove the clothing, leaving you bare before her. She kissed your neck and collarbone, her hand resting over your heart.
Natasha's lips met yours again, her teeth scraping against your lower lip. You let out a gasp when she nipped your skin, your nails digging into her shoulder. She soothed the small bite mark with her tongue before kissing her way down your chest.
Your breathing quickened when she reached the swell of your breast. Natasha looked up, meeting your gaze. She waited, and when you nodded, her mouth descended, her tongue drawing a circle around your nipple.
You arched up towards her, a breathy sigh escaping your lips. Natasha sucked the sensitive bud, her free hand sliding over your skin, tracing patterns across your body. She's so gentle, treating you like you're precious.
The sensation is overwhelming. It's not just the physical pleasure. There's an emotional connection, a closeness that feels almost too much. The two of you were connected, bodies and minds intertwined, and she knew exactly how to touch you. This was the longest period Natasha's been home in a long while. You didn’t know how long she'd be able to stay. You couldn’t think about that then. Not with her lips on your skin, her fingers dipping between your thighs, teasing and exploring.
You tugged her closer, desperate for the feel of her against you, and Natasha responded eagerly. She slid a leg between yours, her thigh pressing against you. You whimpered and ground against her, seeking out more.
"I love you," She whispered into your skin.
"I love you too." You kissed her again, your hands sliding down her sides.
Natasha rolled her hips against you, and your breath hitched. You clung to her, letting her lead. Just as Natasha leaned in to press another kiss to your lips, her phone buzzed on the nightstand. The unexpected sound cut through the calm, and she sighed, her expression shifting.
"Ignore it," She mumbled.
It wasn’t a difficult request. You wanted to. But even as Natasha's lips returned to yours, her hand slipping between your thighs, the phone buzzed again. And again.
Natasha cursed under her breath, pulling away reluctantly. She picked up the phone, glancing at the screen, her shoulders tensing.
"What," She snapped. You almost felt sorry for the person on the other end of that call. As she listened, her eyes darkened, and the relaxed warmth she wore moments ago vanished. You watched her face change, the worry becoming unmistakable.
"There's a threat," Steve's voice crackled over the line, his words heavy. "Wanda and Vision are in trouble."
She sat up, her expression unreadable. Her hand dropped from its place on your thigh to the bed. You scooted out from under her to sit up.
"Nat? What is it?" You asked.
"Edinburgh is about two hours away from here by car," Natasha held up a hand. "I wouldn't make it to them in time."
"What's happening?"
"Wanda and Vision need backup. There's a group of people, they're... enhanced or aliens. Not sure. They're going after Vision, they think he's some kind of threat. They're trying to destroy him." Natasha gave you the cliff notes version. She's been keeping track of this ordeal for the past few days.
"So what's the plan? What are we going to do?" You questioned.
"There's a black car pulling up in less than five minutes," Steve informed her over the phone. "I have a jet."
Natasha’s hand closed around her phone. She muttered another curse under her breath as she shifted into a more upright position, the intensity in her eyes returning. You moved to sit beside her, instinctively reaching for her hand.
"Nat? What’s going on?” you asked again quietly, but the gravity in her expression told you more than words ever could.
She squeezed your hand, looking at you with an apologetic half-smile. “I have to go." Natasha’s eyes softened at your response, even as her body tensed with the need to act. “Steve’s sending someone to pick me up. They’ll be here in less than five.”
“Of course he is,” You said with a sigh, giving her hand another squeeze. Despite your hangups, you knew her team needed her too. “You’ll make it in time, right?”
She looked away for a second, her jaw set. “I hope so." Natasha’s voice was calm but edged with a tension you rarely saw—one that always appeared when it was about someone she cared for. She glanced out the window, her fingers tapping absently as if counting down the seconds until the car arrived.
"You're waiting for me to say yes," You realized. Natasha remained silent. "Would you stay if I said no?"
"I would," She replied. "But I have to go anyway. If you didn't want me to."
"That's not fair."
"I know," Natasha replied softly. She didn’t look at you.
The silence stretched. It was not an uncomfortable one, but it did leave plenty of room for thought. You took her hand again. "I love you, Nat."
"I love you too," She leaned forward to kiss you. It wasn’t rushed. Her lips were gentle against yours, and her free hand caressed your cheek. She broke away first, resting her forehead against yours. "I have to get dressed."
You nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, okay. I'll be here when you get back."
"I'll be back soon." Natasha pressed a soft kiss to your forehead before getting out of bed. She moved swiftly but with purpose. She headed to the bathroom, brushing her teeth with quick, practiced motions, her mind already a step ahead, planning her next actions. A pair of sweatpants, a t-shirt, and her sneakers were on in seconds; her real gear, she’d change into on the jet. She spared a glance toward the bedroom, where you sat watching her.
"I'll take them home," You told her. "Back to Missouri." It's where they would be the safest. Where you would be the safest.
"I'll call you," She promised, her voice low. Her phone vibrated again, and her brow furrowed. "And I really have to go."
You nodded, a lump in your throat. "I'll see you when you get back."
The corner of Natasha's lips twitched up in a tired smile. "Take care of yourself. Stay safe."
With a final look, Natasha turned to head out but paused in the doorway. A small smile crossed her face as she tiptoed down the hall, slipping into the room where your two little ones were fast asleep.
First, she leaned down to press a soft kiss on Stella’s forehead. The three-year-old stirred slightly, murmuring something before settling back into her dream. Natasha brushed a stray lock of hair away from Stella’s face, her heart tightening with a love so fierce it ached. She moved to Nicky’s crib, watching the one-year-old sleep peacefully, his tiny hand curled around his favorite blanket. Natasha leaned down, pressing a light kiss on his cheek.
It took all her strength to pull away. She slipped out of the room quietly and headed to the front door, where the black car waited in the early dawn light. Natasha took a deep breath before stepping outside, casting one last glance back at the home she was leaving behind—for now. This time on the run with you, she'd figured out what was important to her. Not that she'd ever forgotten. She'd been stubborn to think that she could live these two lives.
You watched her from the window as she headed to the car, her posture tense, her head bowed. You wondered if you should stop her. You could have. She'd stay, and you'd talk her down and keep her safe.
But that wouldn't be fair. You've had this conversation a hundred times. You've talked until you're blue in the face. The world is still a dangerous place, and she would never turn her back on that.
A sudden, sharp cry echoed from the hallway. Nicky was awake. You had a job to do also.
********
Being in the quinjet felt nostalgic. It felt like home. Sam sat in the co-pilot's seat, his fingers deftly navigating the controls while he glanced back at Natasha and Steve, who were securing their gear.
“ETA fifteen minutes,” Sam announced, his voice steady but laced with an underlying tension. “We’ll be touching down just outside Edinburgh.”
“Got it,” Steve replied, checking the straps on his shield before looking over at Natasha, who was securing her holster to her thigh, the familiar click echoing in the confined space. She looked up, her expression focused.
“Banner filled me in on what he and Tony discussed,” Steve said, leaning against the wall of the cabin. “Thanos is coming for Vision. If he gets the Mind Stone, it’s game over.”
"And this Thanos..." Natasha questioned.
"Bad news," Steve sighed. "He's an alien warlord from the planet Titan, and he wants the Infinity Stones. If he gets his hands on them, the universe is screwed."
"What are the chances we win?"
"Well, considering we're the good guys, we should have the odds on our side."
"Yeah, well, you're Captain America," Natasha shrugged, securing the last buckle. "If anyone can beat the odds, it's you."
"And if I fail?"
"Then the rest of us will pick up the pieces and try again. That's how this works." Natasha smiled at Steve. "And I'll be right beside you, whether you like it or not."
"Thank you," Steve replied, his expression serious.
"Hey, what were you doing on this side of the world anyway?" Sam asked from his seat. Flashes of the past eight months came to her. You and the kids, the house, the simple life, the love.
"Just checking in with some old friends," Natasha smiled, but it was a thin, forced one. Steve gave her a knowing look.
"You've got friends?" Sam grinned. "Other than us I mean."
"Don't sound so surprised, Wilson."
"We'll have time for catching up later," Steve reminded her, looking at Natasha. "When this is all over."
Natasha nodded, but the words hung in the air, and her eyes betrayed her uncertainty. She took a deep breath, trying to push the doubts away, to focus on the mission.
***********
The atmosphere in the Avengers Compound was tense and she needed a moment to be alone. After saving Wanda and Vision and flying back to New York she needed time to breathe. She decided on the courtyard. The cool breeze blew through her hair, a slight chill in the air. Her arms crossed, gazing out at the horizon as the sun dipped below the trees. She could hear the distant chatter of the others as they strategized, but her mind was elsewhere.
"Hey," Steve approached her. "Am I interrupting?"
"No, I'm fine." Natasha shook her head. "Just needed a moment."
"Everything alright?"
"It's fine, Cap," Natasha replied. "Don't worry about me."
Steve's expression softened, and he hesitated, looking out at the sunset. "Do you ever wish things were different?" He asked.
Natasha let out a humorless laugh. "All the time."
"I'm sorry," Steve said."How are y/n and the kids?"
"They're okay," Natasha's lips tugged upward at the thought of you. "They're probably on a plane back home now. Safe."
"They'll be glad to see you when we're done."
"If we get out of this."
"We will," Steve reassured her. "I promise. We'll go through everything we can find, and we'll figure it out."
"You don't know that."
"Maybe not. But I can hope."
"Sometimes I wonder why I bother coming back," Natasha said softly. "Every time I walk through the door, there's a chance it'll be my last."
"Why do you?"
"Because it's worth it," Natasha said simply. "It means something."
Steve nodded, understanding. "You don't have to come back."
"I can't just walk away."
"Why not?"
"Because someone has to be there." Natasha's voice was quiet. "Someone has to fight."
Steve nodded. "You've got a family. And they're waiting for you."
"I know," Natasha's voice was softer, her gaze dropping.
"I'm not gonna force you to go," Steve continued. "But it's not gonna be the same without you. So think about it. We could use your help."
"I'm in," Natasha decided, meeting his gaze. "I'm here aren't I?"
"Yeah, you are," Steve smiled.
"What's our plan?"
"I don't think we have one," Steve admitted.
"You're the tactician, Rogers."
"So are you," Steve pointed out.
"You're better at it," Natasha insisted.
"I'm not."
"I am," Natasha replied, the two of them grinning.
"Okay, fine," Steve laughed.
*********
The car rumbled down the paved road, the trees lining the way to home as you glanced in the rearview mirror. You didn’t expect her to be awake but Stella's eyes looked back at you through the mirror.
"Hi, baby," You cooed at her. “We’re almost home.”
"I'm not a baby. I'm three," She held up three fingers.
"Of course, you're not."
"Where's Mama?" Stella asked.
"She had to go away for a bit," You told her.
"But she'll come back?"
"Yes," You nodded, turning down the long driveway.
"Okay," Stella sighed.
You pull up next to the house, killing the engine.
"Can you call her and tell her we're at this house now? So she doesn't forget," Stella asked.
"Sure thing," You nodded. Truth is you'd tried calling Natasha several times in the past day. As you sat in the driver’s seat, the knot in your stomach tightened, overshadowing the comfort of home.
“I don’t want her to forget us,” Stella said, her small fingers twisting in the hem of her shirt.
You turned to face her. "She won't forget us," You reassured her. "Your Mama loves you so much. And she's going to miss you every minute. Now how about we go inside and cuddle? Me, you, and your brother?"
"I want a cookie," Stella said.
"After dinner."
"Okay," She bounced.
You stepped out of the car and opened the door for her. She slid out, running toward the house, her small legs carrying her across the lawn. She stopped at the door and turned back to wait for you. You carried Nicky, following her into the house.
"Can I watch a show?" Stella asked.
"Just one."
"Thank you," Stella grinned and rushed off to the living room.
You took the moment of peace to lay Nicky down and give him a bottle. Your mind wandered to the last time you were home. Almost nine months ago. Being on the run you'd spent your time in different places, different cities, but none of them felt like this home. This house you'd picked out furniture with your wife. A few hours ago, Natasha had been holding the kids. The thought of her being gone already stings.
You pulled out your phone, sending a quick text.
Hey. We're home. Miss you already. Call when you can.
You put the phone on the counter and walked back to the living room. Nicky was still asleep. It's amazing what he could sleep through.
"TV's not working," Stella announced.
"I'll fix it after dinner," You assured her.
"And I can have a cookie?"
"After dinner," You said again.
Stella sat cross-legged on the couch. "Do you think Mama's okay?"
"I do," You nodded.
"But she's not here," Stella pouted.
"She wants to be," You replied. "And she's gonna come home soon. Okay? Do you trust me?"
"Yeah," Stella nodded.
"So, let's make a list of everything you want to do with Mama when she gets home."
"We can go to the park?" Stella offered.
"Absolutely. That's a good one. What else?"
"Um..." Stella thought. "We can play dolls?"
"She'd love that."
"And have a tea party."
"Oh, that's a good idea."
"And make cookies," Stella suggested.
"Yes, we can make a lot of cookies."
"And have a sleepover."
"Mama would like that," You nodded. "She will be home soon."
***********
The Quinjet touched down with a quiet thud, the engines winding down as Natasha stepped out onto the grassy field. The air was still, heavy with a silence that felt almost surreal after the chaos of the last forty-eight hours. She had left the remaining Avengers behind, her heart pounding with urgency as she stole away in the jet. The world was in turmoil, but all that mattered now was getting back to her family.
As she scanned the familiar landscape, her heart raced. The truck sat parked in the driveway, just like always. The sight filled her with a false sense of hope—a flicker of normalcy amid the chaos. Maybe it was just another day. Maybe Stella was inside, and Nicky was playing with his toys, waiting for her to come home. Maybe she would find you with your glasses perched atop your nose, reading some book you'd found on Reese Witherspoon's book club list.
Natasha climbed the porch steps, her body feeling like lead, exhaustion setting in as the adrenaline rush faded. She opened the front door quietly, stepping inside the darkened house.
"Y/n?"
Her voice echoed through the stillness. There was no reply.
Natasha's heart sank. It was just as empty as it had been before. No sounds of Stella's laughter or Nicky's cries. No sign of life. The familiar scent of home was still there, but it felt hollow. No laughter echoed through the halls, no little feet scampering to greet her. The stillness was suffocating.
She walked into the room, taking note of the obvious signs of you being there before. Stella's stuffed shark was on the floor, and Nicky's blanket was thrown carelessly on the couch. Thanos snapped his finger and everyone was gone. Right before her eyes her friends, her family, and her people disappeared. Now she's come home to an empty house, the only proof that any of you ever existed.
You were gone.
Natasha sat on the couch, the weight of the realization crashing down on her.
Her hand moved instinctively to the ring hanging from a chain around her neck.
"Y/n?" She called again, hoping against all hope that you would appear out of thin air and hug her and everything would be fine.
"Hello?" She received a response back. It caused her to jump to her feet. She rushed toward the front door and her heart almost fell out of her chest. Standing before her was your neighbor from the house down the road, Mabel. She had a shocked expression on her face but it wasn’t about her. It was about the tiny boy in her arms. Nicky was cradled on her hip, tears hanging at the tip of his lashes, and his eyes red.
"Nicky," She breathed, disbelief flooding her senses as she pushed open the screen door and rushed to Mabel's side. "I can't believe it. You're okay."
Nicky looked at her for a second, his eyes widening in recognition and then he let out a shriek.
"Mama!" He cried, stretching his arms towards her.
Natasha didn't hesitate. She scooped him into her arms, holding him close, feeling his tiny heart pounding against her own. “Mabel,” Natasha said, her voice trembling. “What happened? How do you have him?"
Mabel’s expression shifted from shock to sympathy, her lips pressing together in a thin line. “I came to check on you all after… well, after everything,” she said softly, her gaze dropping to Nicky, who clutched at Natasha’s shirt, still sobbing quietly. “I could hear crying. I had come for help. I peeked inside that window over there and saw him alone in his pack-and-play. I had to break the window." She raised her hand to show off her new injury wrapped in gauze.
"How long had he been here?" Natasha asked.
"I came maybe an hour after the dust took Roy," Mabel answered. "I knew your family was back in town and..."
The room spun for a moment as the reality of it all crashed over Natasha. The thought of her son being alone, frightened in the house, sent a cold wave of dread through her. “He was alone for an hour?”
“I got here as soon as I could,” Mabel reassured, her eyes filled with concern. “He’s okay, just scared. I held him until you came home.”
"Thank you, Mabel. You have no idea."
"Well, he's such a sweet little boy. It was my pleasure."
"Are you sure he's okay? I can take him to the hospital," Natasha offered.
"No need. He's a bit shaken, but otherwise, he's fine. And I was a paramedic remember? I know a thing or two."
"R-right, thank you," Natasha sighed, her relief mingling with her fear and exhaustion.
"Any time. If there's anything else, just holler," Mabel said, stepping off the porch. "I'll leave you all be."
"Wait, are you going to be alone?"
"No, no, luckily my sister lives in the next town over. She's alright and she's on her way."
"If you need anything, please don't hesitate to call," Natasha insisted.
"I will. I promise. You take care of that boy and yourself, okay?"
"I will."
Mabel hugged Natasha, a tear rolling down her cheek. "Take care, Natasha."
"You too."
As the door clicked shut behind Mabel, silence enveloped Natasha and Nicky. It all settled heavily on her shoulders, and she glanced down at her son, who was still nestled against her. His small frame seemed fragile in her arms, and she felt a rush of protectiveness flood her heart.
“Okay, little guy,” she murmured, trying to muster the strength she knew she needed. “It’s just you and me now.” Nicky’s bright eyes searched hers, and she could see a flicker of confusion and fear within them. “Mama’s here. I’m not going anywhere. We’re going to be alright.”
She took a deep breath. “We just need to take it one step at a time,” she told him softly. “That’s what we’ll do, okay? Just one step at a time.”
Nicky blinked up at her, his little brows furrowing in confusion. He didn’t fully understand what had happened, and the thought tightened Natasha’s chest. “I know it’s scary right now,” she continued, stroking his hair gently. “But we’ll find a way through this. We’ll be okay. I promise you.”
Her mind raced with the uncertainty of the future. You and Stella were gone, lost to the Snap. Natasha’s heart ached at the thought of you, and the crushing reality that she might never see you again weighed heavily on her. “I’ll get them back,” she whispered to herself, her voice breaking slightly. “I have to. I can’t let this be the end.”
Nicky squirmed in her arms, a tiny whimper escaping his lips. “Mama?” he called out, his small voice tinged with uncertainty.
“I know, sweetheart, I know,” Natasha said, her heart breaking a little more with each passing second. “But I’m right here. You’re safe with me. We’re going to figure this out together.”
She pulled him closer, feeling the warmth of his body against her, and took another deep breath. “Let’s start with something simple, okay? How about we get you a snack? I bet you’re hungry. You always are.” She tried to inject some cheerfulness into her tone, hoping to distract him from the confusion surrounding them.
“Snack!” Nicky echoed, a touch of excitement flashing in his eyes.
Natasha gave him a weak smile.
She made her way into the kitchen, Nicky still clutched tightly in her arms. She could see the remnants of the family left behind. A half-finished coloring page, a forgotten sippy cup, and a few crayons scattered across the floor.
She placed Nicky in his high chair, her eyes brimming with tears. He reached out, grasping at her shirt, and she took a deep breath, trying to steady her emotions. He was afraid she’d disappear again.
"It's going to be okay," She told him, her voice shaking. "We're going to be okay. I'm not leaving. I promise."
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Hi hi, I saw you liked my prompt??? I'm in your asks because Tumblrs you don't follow can't DM you. Of you're interested in writting something feel free to send me a follow and I'll DM you or you can DM me. :)
Hi hi and of course. I can't think of much now but if I do I'll let ya know. I got ya with a follow as well 😁
Alexia, mi reinita, mi amor, mi todo | Alexia Putellas x Reader
A/N: Not me wanting to get this out still on Alexia's birthday like I'm turning an essay in at midnight. Ok honestly I would write a part two of this but that's only if people are interested. Again requests are closed for now.
So it's a little angsty, has a little hurt/comfort (I know this woman gives the best hugs let's be real), and some Alexia fluff.
Based on this prompt list: #4, #20
Warnings: Anxiety/panic attack symptoms
WC: 1860
Alexia had resolved it in herself that she would use whatever leverage she had to have you stay at Barcelona. She was not the type to use that card…she was not that kind of player…the type to threaten to leave to get what she wanted, but the thing she wanted was you. She had tried to speak with some of the staff about it but they were “conveniently busy”. With no success, she texts you “Voy a casa, te veo pronto, amor” (I’m going home, I’ll see you soon, love) before driving over to your shared home.
Barcelona was dragging their feet with regards to your contract of whether you would be renewed or be traded to some other club, some other league, some other country. You had spent 4 years dedicated to Barcelona and had earned your spot in the midfield. The statistics you pulled throughout your career there were phenomenal, the kind that made your girlfriend proud to see because she was there from the beginning. So why was Barcelona playing a cat and mouse game with your livelihood?
“Alexia, mi Reinita, mi amor, mi todo (my little queen, my love, my everything),
You know that I am better with my words written on paper than spoken to you. You still make me nervous when I look at you; I still blush as quickly as I did when we first met. I write this to you because I’m going to America to Bay FC…the deal has been done and the announcements will be out in a couple of weeks, but I wanted you to be the first to know.
The amount of times that Alexia had found you at that kitchen table with your head covered by your arms crying out your frustrations at another deal that went nowhere. She would never say a word and just quietly wrapped her arms around you and kissed the back of your head before laying hers on it. Once the crying stopped her hand would gently rub your back until eventually you began to move and pulled her into a hug with your head at her abdomen with a quick whisper of “let’s go to sleep”. Her only words would be “of course, cariño (dear)”.
I know how you are mi amor (my love) but fighting the club is not worth it. It is hard to swallow the reality that the club that I grew up watching, grew up to play in, does not carry the same love and dedication I had for them…for me. You were one of the first people I met 4 years ago when I transferred from my club team in Mexico. It was a big move and you were there to just welcome me in, you knew immediately that I did not take change very well and was uncomfortable with everything.
Alexia, at some point, blocked some sports news outlets on your social media because of how overwhelming the “(y/n) Transfer Rumor” posts were getting for you. You did not want to leave Barcelona, you had made a home there with Alexia and the thought of leaving all of what you had terrified you.
You could already hear the comments from the “fans” questioning your loyalty, why you couldn’t just confirm that you would be staying at Barça or leaving the team all together, why you were silent on the rumors? Alexia would be there with her head on your shoulder quietly holding you in the kitchen quieting the noises in your head with a simple kiss to the temple.
“Mi princesa, go sit down.. I’ll make dinner” she’d whisper into your hair as she led you to the table and made dinner while you watched with warmth at the woman before you.
I remember you would tease me about my accent when I spoke Spanish and said you would give me lessons if I made you a bag after you saw me crocheting mine on the bus to my first away game. I know that the Spanish lessons were just a way to spend time with me. You could have asked me to be with you at any point and I would have said yes. I remember you teaching me how to dance in our kitchen one night after saying that I was worried about making a fool out of myself at my brother’s wedding. I’m going to miss our 3 am dances we would do when I was pacing the kitchen stressed out of my mind on this transfer.
As you said, “Here I don’t want you to walk back and forth alone, just dance with me instead…I'm here”. I still remember the feeling of you under my palms; every curve, every line as I would take the lead of the dance and you would look at me calmly guiding my hands like how you did when you first taught me…yeah I’ll miss those quiet moments the most.
You had not gone to practice that morning due to stomach issues and you had to basically push Alexia out of the door so that she went to practice.
“I’ll get some rest do not worry, mi Reinita” You say as she answers with a quick kiss.
She grabs her bags and gives another kiss pulling you in,“I’ll be home as soon as I'm done ok?”.
As Alexia entered through the doorway of the shared home and saw several moving boxes littered on the floor. Confused, she looks for you as there is not the usual soft music that you play when you are doing chores and finds you wrapped in a blanket sound asleep on the coach.
Her bag is gently put to the ground as she rounds the corner of the coach. She sees the coffee table littered with papers and your phone with an unread message from her.
She quietly looms over the papers, seeing a copy of your original Barcelona contract, the proposal, the rejection to the proposal, another club offer and, finally, the letter to confirm intention to transfer. Your phone lights up with another notification; getting the attention of Alexia who notices the handwritten letter that remained unfinished under your phone.
You were a semi - heavy sleeper so she picked up the letter and began to read as her soft smile appeared, fell and then reappeared. The boxes made sense now, you were organizing your things ahead of time to leave. Seems that you received the news that morning, explaining why the staff were busy when Alexia tried her best to speak with them.
She looked down at your handwriting again…she’s so familiar with it as you have always littered her spaces with sticky notes of encouragement, love and everything in between. You always thought she had thrown them away but on your 2nd year anniversary she showed you the box where she had kept every single note that you had written to her.
It didn’t matter to her; she kept all the ones that said “Hi Ale, can you get some milk?”, “Reinita, there is dinner in the fridge”, “I’m too lazy, I ordered pizza oh and I guess Patri is coming over?’
This letter no matter how long she will keep especially close to her.
Alexia sat at the other end of the coach and began to read the last bit of the letter.
I know that I will be so far from you and that you will miss the things that I do. You were always a romantic like that mi amor (my love). That’s why I am going to leave you my favorite book, the one that I always read way too many times and have cried over just as much. The only thing that I ask is that you don’t open it until I am gone and you are missing me. Just saying not to is going to make you want to open the book even more but please listen to me on this one. :)
I don’t know what the fixtures of the NWSL are yet but I know that you will want to -
You stir and stretch out your legs pushing Alexia in the process. The resistance pulled you from your sleep.
Alexia laughs softly as she pats your leg, “Sleep well, cariño (dear)?”
You only nod as you rub the sleep from your eyes. Without a word, you sit up and look at Alexia who fiddles with the note that you had written.
“I wish I was at least awake when you found out, amor (love)” you start as you shift over to be closer to her.
“Are you mad at me?” your head now lying on her shoulder.
Alexia looks, almost, offended at the comment as she turns to you.
“This is your decision, cariño, you know that I will support in whatever you do and wherever you go…I’m sad, yes, but seeing you living out your dreams has been a honor for me…so no I’m not mad solamente bien orgullosa de ti (only very proud of you)”.
She pulls you closer, her hand softly rubbing your arm as she hears the small sniffles coming from you.
“Promise me you’ll watch at least one game” you say softly.
Alexia laughs and kisses the top of your head, “Amor, I’ll watch every one”.
The announcement came and went and so did you. You found yourself preparing for the inaugural season for Bay FC. The fans had taken a liking to you immediately and the management welcomed you with open arms.
Alexia, remained in your shared home that now was quieter without your presence. The spaces that normally were filled with little posts were bare, the days for chores weren’t filled with your questionable music, and Alexia no longer needed to dance in the kitchen at 3 am.
After a particularly hard practice, Alexia returned home missing you more than usual. As she plopped down on the coach her eyes fell on your book that you left behind for her.
She remembered that you had asked her to not open it until you were gone to your new club.
Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistle Stop Cafe by Fannie Flagg, it was the book that you read every year during the summer without fail. No matter how many times you read it, Alexia would see you tear up and close the book to compose yourself before continuing.
She got the book and opened to the first page and seeing a small, sticky note,
“I miss you, mi reinita”.
Alexia flipped the page and found another one,
“You can text my mom for her soup recipe, she’d only give it to you”
A laugh escapes her as she continues through the book finding more and more of your notes that you had written out. She skips to the end and finds an older looking note.
“I love you, Alexia Putellas…” with the date of your 1st anniversary with Alexia.
And below with newer ink and dated the day that you had left.
“And I… I still love you, even after all of this time”.
˚ ₊ ♡ ‧ ₊ girlfriend!maggie — headcanons x gn!reader. reblogs are greatly appreciated! ˚ ₊ ♡ ‧ ₊
Born in the year of 1990, Maggie Nelson, an aspiring teenage actress who dreams of making it into Broadway, gains incredible chameleon like powers after she is caught between an ancient Rune stone and a electrical storm accident.
Our heroine maggie's full name is margaret nelson. She's a beautiful seventeen year old student attending the highschool of dramatic arts in New York City. She is an adventurous and extremely happy spirited girl who's confident that she can do and accomplish anything. She's upbeat, quick witted, and high spirited but well grounded when dealing with important issues.
( p.s you can watch the full movie here via youtube but there are flashing lights involved, if you'd prefer to avoid that, check out this film review. )
↳ girlfriend!maggie — who always knew you had a crush on her long before the moment you worked up the nerve ask about being study buddies and started exchanging and comparing notes for an upcoming test of Shakespeare's classics like "Romeo and Juliet" and "Hamlet" and decided to make the move to ask you out during another lunch study in the library.
↳ girlfriend!maggie — who is more than happy to spare some extra time on line rehearsals for those big and upcoming performances you've had your heart set on acting in despite the clear stage fight. She even gives you kisses of good luck for a better boost but makes sure that you know where you need to improve on while welcoming the fun of improv.
↳ girlfriend!maggie — who wants the both of you to step out of your comfort zones when it comes to personal fears and social gatherings together but knows not to push things when it comes to you and doesn't mind being patient because she treasures you to the word and back.
↳ girlfriend!maggie — who is your biggest hype girl with all of her extroverted and contagiously giddy energy, even when your not the brightest person in the room. She wants to find any way to see that precious smile of yours but knows how to give you the well needed comfort when the moment calls for it.
↳ girlfriend!maggie — who treats you out to your favorite bakery and coffee shop in town for the weekend mornings despite the fact that she's been expanding her cuisine palette and improving on her cooking skills but is holding out for either your one year anniversary as a couple or your birthday.
↳ girlfriend!maggie — who is adamant about you getting your bed rest when your sick and in no condition to be attending school. She appreciates the tenacity but your sick butt is staying in bed and that's final. Leave it to her to whip you up a warm meal and to put on some romantic comedy produced films from Hallmark or rent a few movies from block buster so that she can snuggle up close with you under the warmth of a blanket with a trusty ice pack for your fever.
↳ girlfriend!maggie — who explicitly claims to not be the Regina George type and wouldn't get jealous easily over small things or even petty but you see it despite the denial. Despite maggie's emotional and mental maturity is compared to most teenagers, she's still just a teenager and there's no exception to jealousy, especially when it comes to you.
↳ girlfriend!maggie — who ultimately reveals she has superpowers and opens up about this whole world saving adventure she went on in only three days after delivering that bravado of a performance on Friday before returning to school and getting that A+ on Hamlet that Tuesday morning. You are the only one she can really trust right now since her father, the infamous interpol agent Nathan Nelson, would never be able to look at his own daughter the same way ever again -- at least that what she fears. You promise to keep her secret and she knows you mean it.
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"hermanita!" (baby sister) you quickly stretched your arm away from your body as your sister jumped on top of you, sending her a glare as you wiped the rum off your arm and placed your now empty glass down on the table in front of you.
"me debes un trago idiota." (you owe me a drink idiot) you shook your head at her erratic nature, the girl grinning and pressing a kiss to your cheek as you elbowed at her, mapi only doing it again to annoy you further.
"ay mapi!" you whined and pushed her off, ingrid arriving as your savior and briefly distracting the tattooed girl beside you who peppered her lips with kisses. you gagged at the sight sticking your finger down your throat, earning yourself a laugh from a few of your team mates across the booth.
"no tengas celos. mucho para ti también hermanita!" (dont be jealous. lots for you too baby sister!) mapi grabbed at your face, repeatedly kissing all over it as you struggled to pull away. "maria! leave her be." ingrid chuckled, tugging her off of you as you wiped your face.
you met your girlfriends eyes across the table, the older girl hiding her amused smile behind the one drink she'd been babysitting the entire time you'd been at the club. you stuck your tongue out at her as her eyes rolled playfully, shaking her head and taking a tiny sip, though you were certain it would only be water in her glass anyway.
after a big win over real madrid the team had gone for a celebratory dinner, which had of course wound up being followed by going out to a club, your sister the main ringleader in dragging three quarters of the team out for a night of drinking and dancing.
your girlfriend took the most convinving of everyone, even just to come to dinner. it was hardly unknown knowledge that la reina didn't drink during the season, and you knew alexia well enough to know she'd much rather be tucked up in bed studying the match for any singular little faults she could find and correct, football was her life after all.
though with a pout and a very discreet kiss to the corner of her mouth she'd agreed to come for a little while. it certainly didn't help that no one knew you were together so you couldn't be all over one another like you wanted to, well most people didn't.
you'd almost beaten poor claudia into submission not to run and tell half the team when she'd caught the two of you mid makeout in the showers after you thought everyone had left. but you knew she'd told patri, simply just from the cheeky knowing smile sent your way by the girl when you were paired up with your captain for a drill at training that next morning.
ona and lucy had accidentally overheard a lovesick confession from you to your girlfriend about how your mornings weren't the same without waking up to cuddles and alexia cooking for you.
they had taken less convincing not to spill your secret, though you copped relentless teasing from your english teammate for the soft admission.
frido and ingrid had spotted the two of you out to dinner one night, tucked away and looking loved up in the back corner of a lesser known restaurant on the outskirts of barcelona.
you knew you were likely to cause poor ingrid stress from needing to keep this from her girlfriend, and you promised her that you would speak with alexia about coming forward with it all to mapi. though the norwegian girl knew your sister almost as well as you did and empathized with the fact that she was incredibly over protective, and would likely not react well.
but as the list of names who knew started to grow, so did yours and alexia's worries that it would get back to one person in particular.
alexia's best friend, who just also happened to be your older sister.
"ahora un beso de verdad. qué pasa con ese que está junto al bar?" (now for a real kiss. what about that one by the bar? or that one? or her? or that one looks promising?) your sisters arm settled over your shoulder, drawing you into her side as she hummed and her eyes scanned the room, pointing out various women one by one.
"ya te dije, no estoy interesado! deja de intentar venderme como a una vaca preciada." (i told you already, i am not interested! stop trying to sell me off like a prized cow) you shook your head, biting back a smile and rolling your eyes.
"una vaca preciada? alguien piensa muy bien de sí mismo." (a prized cow? someone thinks highly of themselves) your sister tutted with a cheeky grin, again pointing out more women as you denied each one, sending ingrid a pleading look as she hurried mapi off to the bar for another round.
"algunas de esas chicas no eran feas." (some of those girls were not ugly) a familiar raspy voice sounded in your ear, alexia using your sisters absence to shuffle around closer to you, her hand subtly squeezing your thigh under the table.
"ah, de verdad? tal vez deberías ir a buscar sus números-" (oh really? maybe you should go get their numbers-) you challenged, your own hand resting on top of hers, inching it higher up your leg as your girlfriend raised an eyebrow with a surprised smile.
"-la reina!" you finished with a smile, biting down on your bottom lip as alexia's hand moved under your dress, a singular finger tracing circles on your upper thigh, dangerously close to your underwear.
"vienes a bailar?" (come for a dance?) you nodded behind you to where most of your team mates were, alexia only chuckling in response. "sabes que no bailo, hermosa." (you know i don't dance, beautiful) your girlfriend tilted her head, hazel eyes darkening, hand still inching slowly upwards on your inner thigh.
"salgamos de aquí cariño." (lets get out of here darling) the older girl purred quietly with a suggestive smile. "ya? dónde está tu espíritu de equipo?" (already? where's your team spirit?) you teased with a grin.
"hermanita!" alexia's touch disappeared like magic as if it was never there, immediately shuffling further away from you and turning to speak with lucy and ona as mapi returned and sat right back down next to you.
"tu bebida." (your drink) your sister handed you a fresh glass as you smiled appreciatively, though really you wished you could slap her for the interruption.
"mi amiga! bailar conmigo?" (my friend, dance with me?) aitana appeared, holding out her hand, flanked by claudia and patri who cheered as you stood, the three of them dragging you away to the dancefloor.
you could feel alexia's eyes trained to you the entire time. it was probably a good thing your sister was so drunk because your girlfriend was hardly bashful in the way that her eyes roamed your body, narrowing as you were pulled in by a girl on the dance floor.
you kept your gaze locked with hers as you pushed yourself into the stranger, though careful not to allow her hands to roam your body as you held them, watching alexia's jaw clench, jealousy burning in her hazel orbs.
"quieres salir de aquí?" (want to get out of here?) you heard the girl ask as you pulled yourself away and shook your head. "contigo no, lo siento." (not with you, sorry) you replied with a smile before being tugged back to the table by claudia.
a few of your team mates had already headed home, and those who were left were far from sober. you were grateful on everyones behalf tomorrow was a recovery day off because there was sure to be some sore heads among the team tomorrow.
"voy a ir a casa chicas!" (im going to head home too girls) alexia announced standing to her feet, her eyes meeting yours for a moment with a familiar look, ignoring the boo's and jeers sent her way for the statement.
"creo que yo también, puedes llevarme a casa ale?" (i think i will too, can you give me a ride home ale?) you gently yanked your arm out of claudias grip, alexia nodding. "oh abucheo! perdedor perdedor." (oh boo! loser, loser) your sister chanted at you making you roll your eyes.
"algunos estamos cansados de marcar goles hermana!" (some of us are tired from scoring goals, sister) you teased, ruffling her hair as alexia moved beside you, the two of you making the rounds saying your goodbyes before heading for the exit.
things were silent between the two of you as you walked together toward her car, the summer night air warm against your skin, head buzzing lightly from the few drinks you'd had.
but that comfortable silence all changed the moment you slid into alexia's cupra, her hands were on you in an instant, lips exploring your own before moving to your neck, causing you to throw your head back with a moan of pleasure.
"tu lugar, o la mía querida?" (so your place or mine darling?)
~
feeling the light of a promisingly sunny day shine through the open window your eyes fluttered awake, wincing slightly and rolling over, grasping out for your girlfriend.
"buen día, mi amor." (good morning my love) her hand tangled in your hair, short nails scratching at your scalp as you hugged her bare leg, mumbling a greeting back into the tanned skin.
"porque estas despierto?" (why are you awake?) you sighed, turning your head to rest in her lap, looking up at her through squinted eyes. "studying." she answered with a smile, nodding to the tablet on the bedside table beside her, yesterdays match paused on the screen.
"estas loco." (you're crazy) you exhaled with a shake of your head, lips curling into a smile as alexia playfully flicked your forehead. "tal vez sobre ti." (maybe about you) alexia smiled tenderly, causing your cheeks to flush rosy pink at the admission.
"qué dirían todos si supieran que la reina es tan suave?" (what would everyone say if they knew the queen was so soft?) you teased, your girlfriend dipping her head, her lips ghosting yours, pulling away as you tried to kiss her.
"bésame!" (kiss me) you whined, pulling at her shirt needily. "mmm no." alexia shook her head with a cocky smile as you raised an eyebrow, within a few seconds you'd straddled her lap, pulling your own shirt over your head and watching as her eyes dropped down to your bare chest.
"mis ojos están aquí arriba bebé." (my eyes are up here baby) you tutted, the cocky smile now on your face as you pulled your head back when alexia leaned in to kiss you. "bésame." (kiss me) the girl ordered, her hand coming to cup the back of your neck.
"mmm no?" you teased, pretending to think about it, grinning as alexia rolled her eyes impatiently and pulled your lips to meet hers, her hand on the back of your neck meaning she was in control of when you pulled away.
you moaned into her mouth as her other hand traced your abs, slowly making its way downwards to where you really needed her as you rolled your hips into hers.
but everything halted as a series of sharp knocks on your door rang out and you pulled away, glancing out of your open bedroom door as alexia grabbed the back of your neck again, smashing her lips back to yours in a bruising kiss.
"ignoralo. ellos se irán!" (ignore it, they will go away) the older girl mumbled impatiently into the kiss, the knocking continuing and growing louder the longer you left it.
"hermanita! seguramente aún no estás durmiendo?" (baby sister, surely you are not still sleeping) an all too familiar voice rang out as you shoved alexia's hands off you, the two of you looking at each other with the same amount of fear and shock.
"mapi." you whispered in sync as you rolled off of her, hastily pulling your shirt back over your head and hunting around on the floor for your underwear. "bebé?" you heard a whistle and glanced up to see the blonde twirling them around on her finger with a slightly smug smile.
"mierda ale! no es el momento." (fuck ale, now is not the time) you hissed, snatching them off of her and smacking her shoulder with a glare. "lo siento, estoy tratando de aligerar el ambiente." (sorry, just trying to lighten the mood) the blonde rolled her eyes, but you could see she was equally as nervous as you were.
"dios mío mujer, apúrate!" (oh my god woman, hurry up) your sister shouted with a groan, fist now pounding against the door as you instructed alexia to stay in your bedroom and pulled the door closed, hurrying over.
"ahora no es un buen momento mapi." (now is not a good time mapi) you half opened the door with a forced smile, your sister scoffing with a roll of her eyes, shouldering her way past you and inside your apartment as you cursed under your breath.
"te traigo el desayuno y este es el agradecimiento que recibo?" (i bring you breakfast and this is the thanks i get?) she whistled and shook her head, pulling herself to sit up on the counter and gesturing to the two brown packages by her side.
"No estoy bien hoy. deberías ir!" (im not well today, you should go) you coughed, pointing to the door. "siempre has sido una mala mentirosa hermana!" (you have always been a bad liar sister) mapi grinned, unwrapping one of the breakfast sandwiches and nodding for you to do the same.
"mapi." you withheld a groan, dragging your hands down your face in frustration, the older girl always having been stubborn. "por qué estás tan ansiosa por que me vaya?" (why are you so eager for me to leave?) the tattooed spaniards eyes narrowed, scanning you suspiciously as you rolled your eyes.
"dios mío." (oh my god) she gasped suddenly, jumping off the counter as you raised a curious eyebrow at her behavior. "no estás aquí solo!" (you are not here alone) your sister realised, grinning like a cheshire cat and clapping her hands happily.
"qué? claro que soy yo." (what? of course i am) you scoffed, trying with every fibre of your being not to show how nervous you were at her words. "no. usted no!" (no. you are not) mapi sung out teasingly, suddenly grabbing at you and poking your neck making you hiss in pain, and then came the realisation.
"hickeys!" your sister laughed as you smacked her hands off and shoved her away. "entonces ¿quién es? alguien del club? pensé que te habías ido con alexia? furtivo!" (so who is it? someone from the club? i thought you left with alexia? sneaky!) the defender fired question after question at you.
"nadie, ahora lárgate!" (nobody, now get out) you huffed, trying to push her back towards the front door. "no. dile a tu amigo que salga y salude." (no. now tell your friend to come out and say hi) mapi yelled over your shoulder, easily shoving you away from her as she made a beeline for your bedroom door.
"mapi!" you grunted in annoyance, running at her and jumping on her back, your sister only laughing and easily shrugging you off, pushing you so you fell backwards onto the lounge.
"o salen o yo entro. el tiempo corre!" (they either come out, or i go in. time is ticking!) your sister yelled toward the door, crossing her arms over her chest as you heard the door unlock and buried your face in your hands.
slowly the handle turned and with an agonizing creak the door swung open, a very shameful looking blonde standing there with her arms folded over her chest, hair pulled up into a messy bun and your kit shorts on beneath her oversized shirt.
RIP Windham Rotunda. A.K.A Bray Wyatt. I often didn't understand your creativity or your characters, nor did I know how to take them. But one thing is for sure. You were one talented wrestler nonetheless.
Hi guys please be aware. It's not me that is sending those ridiculous messages. I'm trying to fix the issue as we speak. I've already changed my password. Otherwise I will deactivate this account and create a new one. Thank you to those who brought the issue to me.
A/N: This is fluff I think. But it does include head trauma and a funeral. Part of a prompt off with @cuinaminute229 @writing-house-of-m and @wandsgale
Natasha died in May 2023. This is not a story about someone who died.
She was your best friend. A fellow Avenger. Your favourite person.
That’s how you came to know her sister.
Yelena had been snapped by Thanos. Missing for 5 years, when she came back her sister was already dead. Then, she wished she was too.
You’d been to one to host a small memorial for Natasha in the Old Stark Tower. Noone had recognised the blonde girl who’d shown up, nursed a drink and kept her distance. This hadn’t been surprising, a lot of Natasha’s friends were mysteries to each other.
It was only when the girl didn’t leave, staying past even Clint’s family, that you decided to speak to her.
Her Russian accent was obvious. Her grief was even more apparent.
Eventually, you had the courage to ask.
‘Who was she to you?’
Yelena started crying. The grief inside you came to the surface and you felt tears slide down your cheeks too.
‘My sister.’ She told you at last.
You watched Yelena crying, your heart twisting with memories of Natasha. Of a love that you didn’t know how to get rid of.
‘Oh.’ You said dumbly. ‘We’re like family.’
It made everything easier after that. Yelena came back to your house that night. You talked about Natasha for hours before she crashed on your sofa.
Yelena looked at you like she’d finally found someone who understood grief. The world was in chaos with its suddenly doubled population. And here you both were, wishing only for the one person who didn’t come home.
That night also gave you the chance to tell her about one more piece of Natasha.
Natasha had left her a house. Well, technically, Tony Stark had left a house to Natasha. But, May 2023 hadn’t been a good month for the Starks either.
So, that meant it was Yelena’s.
You outlined what you knew. It was an older building, late 1800s. More a mansion than a house, it had been in the Stark family for years. Tony had told you once, that he’d spent summers there when he was a child.
Yelena listened, her expression wary. You watched indecision battle on her face.
‘Where is the house?’ She asked at last.
‘Ohio, I think.’ You answered.
‘I want it.’ Yelena decided, expression clearing into one of determination. Her hand gripped yours, almost unthinkingly.
Yelena seemed both strong and fragile in the same breath. You squeezed her hand back. You’d known someone like her before.
—---
A few weeks later, Yelena was still sleeping on your sofa. You knew she could afford a hotel. Technically, she had a Stark approved mansion waiting for her. You didn’t wonder why she preferred your sofa.
Yelena loved Natasha and that’s what made her family.
(Then, alcohol had bonded you like nothing else could.)
One morning, she’d disappeared into the chaos of a New York City with double the population. A solicitor had arranged to give her the new house keys.
That evening, you’d found her on your doorstep, already half-drunk. She was holding a bottle of vodka, a handful of keys and a determined expression.
‘Fuck the house.’ Yelena told you drunkenly an hour later, shoulder clumsily bumping yours.
‘Fuck the house.’ You echoed, clinking your shot glasses and downing the drink.
A blur of time later, you were standing in the middle of the room. Yelena was gripping your shoulders to stay steady. You could feel yourself swaying regardless.
‘Move in with me.’ Yelena suggested, eyes glassy.
‘Absolutely.’ You agreed enthusiastically, before stumbling to the ground.
—---
You woke up miserably the next morning. You were sprawled on the sofa, Yelena’s legs were dangling across you. Your head pounded, your mouth was uncomfortably dry. Squinting, you surveyed the mess you’d managed to make.
Open suitcases littered the room. Heaps of your clothes were half deposited in.
‘Where are we going?’ You croaked a minute later, covering your eyes with your hand.
‘Ohio.’ Came a faint groan in response.
—-------
It took two days to get to Ohio. You still couldn’t believe it had happened.
After squinting at the mess in your apartment for nearly an hour, you’d gotten to your feet. With your pounding head, it had really just seemed easier to move.
The next day, as you drove cross-country with Yelena, you could admit that it was more than that.
Noone knew Natasha like Yelena did. You didn’t want to lose that.
There was nothing left that you wanted. Not in this world. Being an ex-Avenger with no friends in a too crowded city seemed like the worst option.
You knew Yelena was thinking about similar things.
You talked for hours as you drove. It was easier to stare ahead at the road and say everything that was hard to say.
Yelena told you about a jacket that she’d given Natasha. She started to describe the green material and you’d finished her sentence.
‘I remember. She wore it a lot.’ You told Yelena carefully, watching the way her jaw tightened at your words.
‘I didn’t know.’ Yelena said at last, her knuckles white on the steering wheel.
You felt sure then, that Yelena shouldn’t be alone either.
When you entered the state of Ohio. Yelena started to tell you about her childhood. About the mission that had made them sisters.
‘Why did you want to come back here?’ You asked at last.
Yelena looked at you. She gave you a half-hearted smile.
‘I’m tired of running from my past.’ She said simply.
Your heart stung with a memory of her sister. You nodded, too choked to speak. You turned to stare out the window, willing the overwhelming pain to lessen just a little.
Sometimes, it was still hard to breathe without Natasha.
—-------
When you first drove up the long driveway to the Carbonell House, it felt like a journey’s end. Yelena got out of her truck and surveyed the front of her new property.
You watched in amusement as she considered the exterior of the mansion thoughtfully.
‘Yes.’ She decided at last. ‘I think I could live here.’
You snorted, reaching into the back of the truck for some bags.
‘What a relief.’ You commented sarcastically, throwing a heavy bag over to Yelena.
—----
The first few nights in the new house were a big adjustment. The house was coated in thick dust and the air was stale. Old fashioned furniture littered every room.
Yelena settled remarkably quickly, reminding you suddenly that she was an assassin with no previous address. You remembered the way Natasha would sit absurdly in a chair, unintentionally claiming any space she was in.
You’d been impressed by her ability to make any place seem like her home.
Yelena had inherited the same trait.
She wandered around the dilapidated kitchens with the air of a professional chef in their high end restaurant.
When she served up questionable mac and cheese, you smirked, realising her cooking talent was also shared with Natasha.
—----
It was a relief having someone else in the large, empty house. Little moments felt infinitely more comfortable. Working together on bigger tasks, making snarky comments at each other in passing, bringing each other coffee in the morning. The pair of you felt perfectly suited to being housemates.
Every day, Yelena went out to explore the grounds surrounding the property. The Carbonell house was extremely private, thanks to the large gardens on all sides. Once in a while, you’d look out a window and try to imagine a young Tony Stark stuck here with only a nanny for company.
Although, you’d quickly learned with your own explorations inside the house, that Tony had actually spent all of his time here in the basement.
You’d found a lab down there, a low tech version of the ones back in the Old Stark Tower. This lab was much more hyper-personalised to the interests of a 14 year old. There was even a faded poster of Ghostbusters on the wall, dating the set up perfectly to 1984.
When you told Yelena about your discoveries, she snorted loudly.
‘What a loser.’ She commented, adding extra hot sauce to her mac and cheese.
It turned out Yelena had much more important plans on her mind.
One Tuesday, she left in her truck before the sun had even risen. When she returned, you watched her busy herself with a project in the grounds behind the house.
You turned back to the lunch you were making. A pasta salad, the only thing you could make with the ingredients Yelena had bought from the grocery store, that wasn’t mac and cheese.
Yelena came in for lunch. Dirt streaked across one of her cheeks, but her smile was beaming. She ate the pasta salad enthusiastically, ignoring your cringe when she added hot sauce.
After you’d stacked the dishes in the sink, Yelena took your hand.
‘C’mon.’ She urged you, with a glitter in her eyes. ‘I want to show you something.’
She led you confidently through the long grass to the cherry blossom tree, like she was walking a well-worn path.
You stopped in your tracks as soon as you saw it.
The headstone underneath the tree was new. You knew what it would say before you were close enough to read it.
Natasha Romanoff, Missed always by those who loved her.
You hugged Yelena without warning. Holding her tightly as the feeling overwhelmed you. Yelena’s arms wrapped around you too.
‘Thank you.’ You mumbled. A ray of sunlight fell across the garden and, for the first time in a long time, you felt warm.
—----
You didn’t hate the house until after that.
It was an accumulation of little things that began to aggravate you. You hadn’t anticipated the realities of living in such an old house.
The lights flickered almost every time you entered a room. You would grit your teeth, trying to stave off the rush of fear at the momentary darkness.
Most nights, you’d hear strange noises outside. You’d peered out of every window, but there was never anything out there. You were starting to miss the luxury of sleeping through the night.
When you told Yelena about the strange noises, she’d explained to you in a purposefully patronising tone about the nature that existed outside of New York City.
In fact, Yelena seemed to be flourishing more and more in this old space.
You’d always wondered with Natasha, if she could ever feel truly at home, after a life as an assassin.
Yelena had begun to answer that question herself.
A week after the gravestone’s arrival, you woke up again to the sound of Yelena’s truck driving away. You knew you should be frustrated by her abrupt departures. Strangely, you found yourself liking it. Sparks of spontaneity were something you missed the most from your life with the Avengers.
She came back with a dog. Giant, fluffy and entirely impractical for the lifestyle you knew she’d been considering returning to.
‘This is Fanny.’ She told you proudly.
‘Did she come with the name?’ You asked dryly.
‘No, she’s named after someone famous.’ Yelena answered elusively.
Your initial scepticism at your new housemate soon faded. There was no doubt that Fanny was saving Yelena’s life.
You watched them training for hours at a time, in the meadow between the house and Natasha’s gravestone.
Some afternoons, you’d sit outside by the headstone and watch the latest display of obedience from Fanny. Yelena’s satisfaction and pride also made your chest feel warm.
One night, you heard Yelena crying. You paused by her bedroom door. She was mumbling in Russian, words you couldn’t piece together, except ‘Sestra’. Fanny whined slightly and Yelena responded. You felt the aching relief that Yelena had found someone she could cry with.
—--
Fanny’s only downside was her propensity to bark and howl. She’d fixate unexpectedly on different parts of the house, howling furiously until whatever invisible offender had moved on.
Yelena seemed to have largely trained her out of the habit, except for the occasional early morning when you’d wake in alarm to manic barking at the foot of your bed.
Despite the frustrating old house and the morning barking fits. You couldn’t help but feel that you were finally in the right place.
Nothing had seemed to make sense after Natasha’s death. You’d been left with an emptiness that had never really left.
Here in this new chaos, with Yelena and Fanny and a house to fix up, breathing got easier.
—-----
A few months into your new life, Yelena announced at breakfast that she wanted to clear out the basement. You felt yourself getting defensive before she’d finished speaking.
‘I like that he used to live here.’ You told her bluntly. ‘I like having those memories nearby.’
Yelena patted your arm. She’d started doing it ironically to calm you down, but now she did it so often it was second nature.
‘Don’t worry.’ She assured you. ‘We can box up the important stuff. I just want to see what we can salvage from the real tech.’
You nodded, relieved by her suggestion.
‘Maybe, I’ll put the Ghostbusters poster on my wall.’ You decided with a smile. ‘What do you want with his tech anyway?’
Yelena looked at you, expression sober except for the tiny glimmer in her eye.
‘I want to clone Fanny.’ She told you seriously.
You rolled your eyes, fighting a laugh. ‘Uh huh.’
Fanny looked up from the wooden floor at the sound of her name.
Yelena stood up, cupping Fanny’s face between her hands.
‘You’re so perfect, we need two.’ She told Fanny, who wagged her tail.
You started humming The Addam’s Family theme tune under your breath.
Around lunch, Yelena called you from the basement asking for your help lifting something.
You were alarmed to find her holding a large steel beam. Her back was to you as you walked in.
‘Isn’t that something important?’ You just about had time to ask, before Yelena turned around in surprise.
The steel beam caught the side of your head, and before you knew it you were falling.
Just as the hazy darkness fell, you heard a familiar voice.
—----
A week later, you were sitting in a hospital bed.
Yelena was complaining about hospital food and you were reminding her that she didn’t have to eat your leftovers.
It was strange to see the transformation in Yelena that had happened since your accident. You’d regained consciousness after a brief stint in a coma, and the first thing you’d seen was Yelena looking back at you, pale and sick with worry.
Yelena had told the hospital staff that she was your sister, so they’d let her stay. You thought about that a lot at night. You wondered if the shadow of Natasha would always sit between you and Yelena. If she’d be happy about the messy family you were beginning to form.
Yelena slept over in the hospital too. In fact, other than her regular checks on Fanny, she stayed entirely by your side.
You watched her, curled up in the fold-out bed provided by the hospital. She looked impossibly young when she was sleeping. Her hands twisted into the sheets.
Part of you didn’t want to go back to the old house now. Not after the accident. Still, you knew you had to. It was home. It was where your family lived.
—----
Yelena supported your arm as she led you out of her truck.
Carbonell House stood grand and entirely unaffected by your absence. You could see the silhouette of Fanny, paws on the windowsill as she excitedly awaited your return.
Just as you reached the front of the house, you saw another silhouette appear behind Fanny. Natasha Romanoff stared back at you, eyebrows drawn in concern. You vomited into a bush.
‘Dizzy?’ Yelena asked, worry obvious.
‘Mmhmm.’ You mumbled, eyes stinging with tears. The doctors had said you may have some lingering symptoms. You prayed this wasn’t going to last long.
Yelena walked you slowly to the living room, settling you into one of the old armchairs. She disappeared for a few moments, then returned with an old metal bucket. She placed the bucket on the floor and nudged it over to you with her foot.
‘Thanks.’ You mumbled, covering your eyes as you tried to breathe through the nausea.
‘Hi Fanny.’ You heard a voice call a moment later. It took a half second for you to realise that it wasn’t Yelena speaking.
You gasped, hands falling from your face.
Natasha stood in the corner, talking softly to the akita. Her voice was low, and you recognised the familiar tone of her worry.
Her head lifted at the sound of your gasp. Your eyes locked and you felt yourself begin to hyperventilate.
Gasping breaths racked through you loudly, startling Yelena entirely.
‘What is it?’ You could hear her panic. Yelena’s hands touched your shoulders.
‘I can see Natasha.’ You admitted, with barely enough breath to speak. Natasha’s eyes widened, her hand touched her chest.
Yelena moved away from you.
‘Why would you say that?’ She whispered angrily.
‘I think I’m hallucinating.’ You told her miserably, hating the absurd pain you must be causing her.
‘Stop.’ Yelena demanded.
Natasha was still standing by the door. You squeezed your head between your hands.
‘I don’t know how.’ You whispered.
Yelena made a sound, and you knew she was crying too. Guilt rolled through you.
‘Don’t imagine something like that.’ Yelena demanded again, voice full of hurt.
You didn’t respond, you stared at the ground, afraid to look up and see Natasha again.
You heard Yelena leave the room, the soft trot of Fanny following behind.
You closed your eyes. It was easier to calm down without the hallucination staring back at you. You decided to take ten deep breaths before you opened them again.
You did, and Natasha was still standing across the room. Eyes wide, arms wrapped around herself. She stared at you.
With no other plan to hand, you closed your eyes and tried a hundred breaths this time.
—----
A hundred breaths later, you opened your eyes again.
Natasha remained. She was sitting in an armchair across from you now. Her legs were sprawled familiarly over the side.
Your heart skipped a beat. She looked so real. How could this be built from memories?
You said her name and Natasha’s attention snapped to you.
You stood up, hand shaking as you tried to touch her. You heard Natasha’s breath hitch too. Your fingers touched the worn fabric of the armchair beneath her.
Definitely a hallucination.
You turned away, hoping to leave Natasha behind.
—-----
She followed you.
In fact, Natasha followed you all day. You could hear Yelena crying in her room. You didn’t go in to apologise, knowing that you could only make it worse.
It was impossible to ignore your hallucination. Especially now that she was talking.
Natasha spoke to you all day. Old memories and new commentary mixed together in her constant monologue. She stayed by your shoulder, asking questions about Yelena, about you, about life since the snap.
At first you tried pacing, walking laps through the house and trying to shake her off.
When that didn’t work, you tried to distract your brain. You opened your laptop and scrolled through some current events, eventually playing a short news programme.
Your heart skipped with relief when silence fell. Then, you looked over your shoulder and saw Natasha right behind you, watching the laptop screen too.
The hallucination held a sickening level of realism. Natasha touched her lip thoughtlessly, lost in concentration at the news. You snapped your laptop shut, unnerved.
You took the medication for your head injury with religious devotion. You decided that if the hallucination was still there in the morning, you’d ask Yelena to drive you back to the hospital.
—--
That night, you stared up at the dark ceiling, willing yourself to get some sleep.
Natasha came into your room quietly. She knelt on the floor by your bed, her hand resting near you. You felt sick again.
You closed your eyes.
Natasha kept talking, her voice low.
‘I’m sorry you’re scared.’ She told you. ‘I promise I’m not in your head. I don’t know how you can see me, but I really am here.’
You screwed your eyes shut tighter.
Then, Natasha told you some impossible things.
She told you about the way she felt. How she’d always hoped for something more than friendship with you. That she loved you in a way that never seemed to stop.
You could hear the tears in her voice. It cracked when she mentioned Yelena.
She talked about the family they’d never quite had the chance for. Could you tell her that Natasha loved her? That she was an idiot for naming Fanny after her old fake ID.
‘Please go away.’ You begged at last. ‘I know you’re not there.’
This time, Natasha left.
—--
You slept fitfully. When you woke, Yelena was lying next to you in your bed.
The first thing you saw was her wary stare looking back at you. You startled violently in surprise.
‘I thought you might actually have some terrible hallucination causing injury and then die in the night.’ Yelena told you bluntly, a slight waver in her voice giving away her worry.
You started crying again. Slow and silent tears slid down your cheeks. You hated the stress you’d caused for her.
You stared back up at the ceiling, remembering all the things that the hallucination had told you in the night.
‘Please tell me that at least a part of it was real.’ You whispered to yourself.
‘What happened?’ Yelena asked after a moment. Her voice was weary, prepared for the pain of your broken imagination.
You told her everything, a miserable confession.
Yelena stiffened, sitting up in the bed as you continued to speak.
When you finished talking, Yelena was silent.
You forced yourself to sit up too. A sobering realisation hit you. You covered your face with your hands again.
‘Oh no.’ You groaned. ‘I’m falling in love with my hallucination. This is so fucked up.’
Yelena’s hand covered your arm. You turned to her when she started to grip it tightly.
‘I never told you about Fanny.’ She said quietly.
Your head tilted automatically in confusion, you ignored the slight stabbing pain the motion brought.
‘She’s named after Natasha’s fake ID from Budapest.’ Yelena continued. ‘How could you know that?’
‘I didn’t.’ You answered, feeling alarmed. ‘It was just the hallucination.’
Yelena turned to you, her eyes wide.
‘What’s my favourite insect?’ She asked you suddenly.
‘How the fuck am I supposed to know?’
Yelena dragged you out of bed.
‘Where is Natasha now?’ She demanded.
‘Gone.’ You answered, scanning the room in relief.
Suddenly, Yelena whistled an unfamiliar sound. You briefly started to wonder if you were still in a coma.
Natasha appeared suddenly through the closed door. She looked uncertain. She whistled softly.
‘Oh.’ You breathed, still floored by the sight of her. ‘She’s back and she’s making that same whistle.’
‘Fuck.’ Yelena whispered, eyes scanning blindly over the space where you were looking. ‘Ask her my favourite insect.’
You cleared your throat, ready to ask. But Natasha was already answering.
‘Easy.’ She told you with a half smile. ‘Fireflies.’
‘Fireflies.’ You echoed.
Yelena swore creatively. ‘It’s her.’
‘You’re a ghost?’ You asked Natasha, not believing Yelena’s conclusion.
Natasha nodded.
‘I tried to get you to see me when you first arrived.’ She said quietly. ‘But nothing worked. It took weeks before I could even get the lights to flicker.’
‘You love me.’ You said dumbfoundedly, as the final pieces clicked together.
Natasha wiped silent tears from her cheeks.
‘Yeah.’ She answered simply.
‘I love you too.’ You told her, heart thudding in your chest. Natasha looked at you like you were a miracle. You knew your expression matched.
Inside you, unbearable loneliness warred with a spark of hope.
‘How do we get you back?’ Yelena shouted blindly across the room.
You and Natasha both flinched at the sound.
‘She still has her ears.’ You commented dryly. Yelena rolled her eyes. A small laugh of strange joy escaped her and you squeezed her hand.
Natasha cleared her throat and your attention returned to her.
‘Have either of you read Tony’s notebooks?’ She asked.
—---
Natasha explained everything as you walked down to the basement. She’d read through everything in the basement with painstaking slowness. It had taken the best part of a day to successfully turn each page.
Tony’s Ghostbusters phase had been based, inevitably, in a lot of science.
The level of technological jargon from Natasha was soon beyond you, and so you became a vessel of communication between the sisters.
You narrated Natasha’s conclusions from Tony’s work, her ideas for altering the machines that Tony had built. Her plan to get home.
Yelena nodded as if it all made perfect sense.
She started taking apart the machines around you immediately, a look of absolute concentration on her face.
Yelena worked with a diligence that you had never seen before. You realised that she was someone entirely new when she had hope.
—--
It took Yelena over a day to build the machine. You stayed with her, as a means of communication and company, only leaving the basement to bring back hastily made sandwiches and to let Fanny run outside.
As the hours passed, the sisters communication devolved into snarky comments, old in jokes and light teases. You realised with sudden clarity, just how familiar they were too each other.
You had known them separately, but they were not meant to be apart.
—-
At last, Yelena and Natasha both agreed that the machine was complete.
Just as you began to prepare for attempting the impossible, Yelena started muttering about checking the calculations one more time.
Natasha's eyebrow raised in confusion and you knew that it wasn't necessary.
You watched Yelena's hands shaking as she scribbled a note and understood. You took her hands between yours, Yelena looked up at you, seeming younger than ever.
‘Hey, Dr. Frankenstein.’ You called carefully. ‘I think it's ready.’
Yelena gave a shaky breath and nodded. She squeezed your hands back.
Natasha moved to stand beneath the long crane-like arm of the machine.
You and Yelena stood behind a large screen as Yelena began to touch the carefully decided sequence of dials. At last, she pressed the final one.
A bright flash of light and Natasha was no longer there.
—---
Fear bubbled up immediately inside you. You exchanged a look with Yelena and saw the same panic in her eyes. You both hurried from the room. At a jog, you searched through the house, calling out Natasha’s name. A sick sense of hopelessness filled you.
Then, you heard the most beautiful sound in the world.
Fanny was barking outside.
You forgot how to breathe as you ran across the meadow, Yelena by your side.
—----
Natasha and Fanny were standing under the cherry blossom tree.
Natasha was smiling. Elation burned through your chest.
As soon as you were close enough, she dropped something into your hand.
The strange sensation threw you. You looked down at the earthworm squirming in your palm.
‘Thank you.’ You said stupidly.
‘I just picked that up.’ Natasha told you, eyes gleaming.
Your mouth dropped as you understood her meaning.
You reached out, and touched her shoulder.
Natasha died in May 2023. This is not a story about someone who died.
A/N: Here’s a little something in honour of Alexia’s birthday. I hope you guys like it.
4th February, the day you get to celebrate the life of your soul mate. If there is one person you are grateful for in this world, it is Alexia. From the day you met her you knew you were meant to have her in your life. Now 10 years later you thank the universe for that day.
“Feliç Aniversari mi amor” you whisper into Alexia’s ear.
The Catalonian sun had just started to peak through the blinds in your bedroom but the birthday girl showed no signs of waking up, she was way too comfy in your arms.
“Alexia” you place a kiss to the soft spot behind her ear “it’s your birthday, time to wake up”
A small groan let’s you know she is slowly waking up. Her hands move to squeeze yours, which are wrapped around her waist.
“Bon día” she turns so that she is facing you.
For a few seconds the two of you stay silent. It is something that happened in specific moments. You took the time to appreciate one another.
“It’s my birthday” a small grin appears on Alexia’s face “and you have a game” the grin falters slightly.
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Y/N and Alexia texted for weeks after the event. Their schedules were all over the place, especially after Alexia received her second Ballon d'Or. On a random evening, Alexia took advantage of her afternoon off and FaceTimed Y/N out of the blue.
The midfielder, happy that she could see Y/N's face for the first time in a week in something else than an Instagram post or from a news outlet, waived to her favourite racing driver "Hiiii" she exclaimed. Shocked as she realised Y/N was still in bed and appeared to be topless. "I caught you in a bad time huh" she laughed nervously. "Um... no I just woke up don't worry" the driver laughed rubbing her eyes in an attempt to wake up "Oh I gotta get ready to catch my flight actually" the driver added.
Alexia, who started to pout, tried to keep the driver on FaceTime for a little longer "Aw really? And you are going to leave me here all lonely with nothing to do?". The driver, who had gotten to know Alexia's mischievous side quickly realised what the midfielder was implying "If you want my media team to get a show go right ahead hottie" she teased sending the midfielder a wink. "There is someone there with you?" Alexia asked worried at the possible answer Y/N could give her "What!? Nooo" the driver laughed before she changed the topic "I'm sure I'm getting a room for my home race in a couple of days ya know" she started "You could make that room feel a little less lonely" the driver added inviting the midfielder.
Alexia started to blush "Oh- Actually I already have tickets for the race" she bragged as she recomposed herself "There is some hot driver racing for a team I'm ambassador for" she added teasing the driver back "Hot you say.. now would you introduce me to said driver?" the driver played into Alexia's teasing.
The driver got ready for her flight as she chatted to the Barcelona midfielder on FaceTime making sure she got her to sit in the VIP stands of the Cupra team.
Being their home race, the Cupra team got the race track all to themselves the night before race day, so as per Cupra tradition, the team rode their bicycles for a whole lap, talking about possible strategies. Y/N, who had invited Alexia out on track opted to walk "Why are we the only ones walking" asked the midfielder clearly confused "Well you just started your recovery for your knee" the driver replied "I didn't want you to force it for a silly ride out on track" she added. The midfielder was stunned at how considerate Y/N was "So you decided to break your team's tradition" she teased "Hey-" the driver replied giving Alexia a slight nudge "I could just leave you out here alone in the middle of the night and ride with them" she added.
The two of them kept joking around as they made their way around the track, when they got back to the pits, Y/N was called to their team's dinner "You hungry?" Y/N asked the midfielder leaning her phone away from her mouth. The midfielder nodded "Add one more to the table please" Y/N said before she hung up. "We shouldn't make them wait long" the driver said "They are like gremlins when not fed" she joked leading Alexia to the elevator.
The elevator stopped abruptly making Alexia scared "WHA- what is happening" the midfielder grabbed onto the drivers arm "Don't worry" Y/N tried to calm the midfielder down, bringing the Barcelona player closer to her body, "There is an emergency line for a reason" she added. "Hi- um we are stuck in the elevator" the driver talked to the emergency line "Yes, remain calm, help is on their way" the caller replied making small talk with the two stars.
Alexia, who was still scared, held on to the driver harder. "So... does the elevator have cameras?" Y/N asked the emergency line, the voice on the other side of the call laughed "No, no we aren't allowed to film inside the elevator" they replied. "Great! Well we will leave you to you other emergencies" the driver joked, politely insinuating that they wanted to be left alone.
"She was flirty huh" Alexia mumbled, her neck buried in Y/N's neck "I sense some jealousy coming from somewhere" the driver joked "I- I just can't point at the source" she added as she grabbed Alexia's face. Pointing to her cheek "From here? I don't think so" she said, looking at Alexia's eyes "Nope not from here either" she added before she placed a finger on the midfielder's lips "Oh maybe-" the driver kissed Alexia as she pulled away the midfielder replied cheekily "Looks like we'll be trapped for a while..." she pulled the driver in for another kiss "Might as-well make the best of it" she added.
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