Date No. 1 Went Like

46. Giving them a back massage when they flop on the couch or bed. (Kate/Yelena)

Yelena and Bucky get back from a Black Op and Kate takes care of her girl. Canon divergent post BW movie, set post TFATWS and Hawkeye

Also here

Kate hasn’t seen her girlfriend in two weeks, and hasn’t spoken to her in at least that long. A black op, Yelena had said apologetically when she’d gotten briefed, brushing delicate kisses over Kate’s nose and cheeks twined together in their bed, no communication.

Kate hates black ops.

The C-130 rumbles to a stop on the tarmac and Bucky and Yelena are the first two out, bags slung over their shoulders. Yelena’s delicate, pale cheeks are flushed with peeling sunburn and she’s moving stiffly. Bucky is armless, the fingers of his vibranium arm poking out of the open zipper of his duffle bag, left eye ringed with dark bruising.

“Baby,” Kate breathes, meeting Yelena halfway. Yelena slumps gratefully into Kate’s arms, brushing her nose against Kate’s throat. She hisses a little when Kate tightens the hug.

“Are you hurt?” Kate asks, pulling away. Yelena shakes her head, cracking half a smile. Kate takes her bag from her and Yelena rolls her right shoulder in discomfort, leaning back against Kate’s side as they head toward the car, pointedly ignoring Sam and Bucky kissing fiercely on the tarmac.

“Just sore,” Yelena murmurs, resting her head on Kate’s shoulder as they slide into the backseat, “long day at work.”

“You need to put lotion on your face,” Kate says, “Your poor skin.”

“You can put it on when we get home,” Yelena says, nuzzling Kate’s shoulder. She smells like dirt and sweat and jet fuel but Kate can’t bring herself to care, pressing her face into Yelena’s messy hair and inhaling deeply.

“I missed you,” Kate admits, as Sam and Bucky slide into the front seat and Sam starts the car. Yelena mumbles something affirmative, sagging against Kate’s side a little more heavily and closing her eyes. Kate reaches forward and squeezes Bucky’s shoulder, and his broad metal hand comes up to cover hers. He looks, if possible, even more exhausted than Yelena, who’s already sliding into a doze, breath slow and warm against Kate’s chest.

“You good?” she asks. Bucky nods tiredly and mirrors Yelena’s position against the window. Sam turns the radio on low and Bucky and Yelena are out before they make it off base.

Kate leads her half conscious girlfriend to the hall bathroom when they get home, pulling the zipper of her suit down and helping her shrug it off her shoulders. The right one is black and blue with fairly fresh bruising, and she’s got road rash patched over her ribcage. Kate begins to undo Yelena’s sloppy braid and Yelena leans her head back against Kate’s chest, sighing.

“Here,” Kate murmurs, “Sit down so I can get your boots off.”

Yelena drops heavily on the toilet, suit around her waist. There’s blood and sweat staining her sports bra. Yelena’s feet are blistered. Whatever their mission was, it was brutal. Kate eases the suit the rest of the way off Yelena’s body and tugs her underwear down as well, unclasping the bra. She kisses Yelena’s temple once she’s naked and strips herself down, turning on the shower.

“Feels nice,” Yelena says, tilting her head into the water, arms loose around Kate’s waist. Kate washes her hair three times to get all the grit and grime out of it, taking care not to rub too much soap into the thick scabbed up scrapes on Yelena’s sides. Yelena leans against her, knees soft, splaying her fingers so they fit in the grooves of Kate’s ribs. It’s a relief every time Yelena comes home and slides right into Kate’s arms like she never left.

“You wanna lay down?” Kate offers, wrapping a towel around Yelena’s shoulders. Yelena nods. Kate carefully massages lotion into Yelena’s sunburned cheeks and Yelena grins, leaning in for a kiss that’s just a slow, sloppy press of lips. She really is exhausted.

Kate gets Yelena down on her belly once she’s in clean underwear, running her hands over Yelena’s back. Her muscles are visibly tight, knotted up under her skin. Kate digs her fingers into one knot and Yelena lets out a long, pained sigh.

“Too much?”

“No,” Yelena croaks, pillowing her head on her arms, “Just sore.”

Kate digs her fingers in again, relishing in the feeling of Yelena, warm and alive and mostly in one piece under her hands. Yelena’s ribcage expands and contracts as she breathes rhythmically through the sensation of her muscles being forced to unwind. Kate strokes fingers through her hair to give her skin a break and Yelena practically purrs under her touch, back arching like Alpine when someone rubs her ears.

“Want me to braid it when you’re dressed?” Kate asks, and Yelena nods. Kate rubs her thumb against a particularly tight spot over one of Yelena’s vertebrae and then kisses the dip of her spine, dragging her to sitting. Yelena presses their foreheads together with a sigh.

“Thanks, Katyusha,” Yelena rasps, leaning in to press their lips together, “I feel like I got hit with a car.”

“Did you?” Kate asks gently. Yelena shakes her head against Kate’s forehead, arms coming around Kate’s middle. Kate kisses her again, taking a deep breath.

They get dressed in clothes that may or may not be theirs. Kate realizes that her shorts say Air Force on them and shrugs, tugging a henley that’s definitely Bucky’s over her head. Yelena looks up at her from her position on the bed and Kate helps her into sweats and a long sleeved shirt, settling behind her and running a comb through her long blonde hair. It doesn’t take long to braid it- Kate has a lot of practice. Yelena gets heavier and heavier against the mattress, leaning against Kate’s chest. They just breathe for a second.

“You want to eat something?” Yelena shakes her head.

“You wanna nap?”

A tired nod. Kate texts Sam so he knows to leave them alone and helps Yelena under the covers.

“I-” Yelena stops and takes an exhausted, trembling breath, “I hated this mission.”

Kate starts rubbing small circles on Yelena’s shaking back. She knows Yelena probably can’t talk about it, but that doesn’t mean that she can’t comfort her.

“I got ya,” Kate murmurs. The front of her stolen henley is growing damp. Yelena is crying. Kate presses her face into Yelena’s hair.

“There were-” Yelena takes a shuddering breath, “kids-”

Kate holds Yelena a little tighter after that, letting Yelena work through her tears against her ribcage.

“You’re here now, sweetheart,” Kate murmurs, “You’re safe.”

Yelena is in for a rough night, but Kate holds her until she falls asleep anyway, stroking her damp braid until she stops crying and drops off.

“I love you,” Kate whispers into Yelena’s hair, “I am so glad you made it home.”

Friendly Reminder that Louisa May Alcott and Emily Dickinson shared a generation, and a coast.

[I don't ship Yelena and Kate romantically, but I very much ship this version of Amy March and this version of Emily Dickinson, don't crucify me, pls.]

more hawkwidow doodles :)

Relaxing is best with those dearest to you. That includes pets.

Archer and the Assassin 5

Note: The header image is a photo capture of a gif edit by @seaquell . The gift edit is beautiful and can be seen above on my blog.

This is the first chapter or fic where I have entered into the romantic shipping of these two characters. I may continue in this vein, but for now, this idea worked out pretty good. I hope you enjoy it.  

If you like what you read, please leave a like, comment, or reblog. 

Two Times Yelena came to Kate’s bed and one time she didn’t.

It had been about a month since Yelena decided to stay with Kate. It had never been discussed. Kate had never given her a key. The blonde spy had never needed one. Yelena would simply let herself in after whatever job she would go off to do. She would crash on the futon when she returned; most of those first nights without any covers and still in her tactical gear. Sometimes, either she or Kate would make dinner, something simple. But most of the time they were on their own. They were friends, after all, not a couple.

Yelena didn’t complain, but there was something in her ‘my business is not yours’ and ‘for your own safety’ comments that gave Kate the impression that the blonde assassin didn’t care for her new bosses. Of course, it was possible she was being protective which made Kate smile wistfully.

When Kate had gone to bed that evening, Yelena had not yet returned. She waited for a while, scrolling her Instagram, which was nothing more than news items and celebrity postings. It was a sobering and sad moment for her, realizing she had no friends, or acquaintances for that matter. She drifted off to thinking of the Bartons and their nice nuclear family.

The brunette stirred awake when she felt movement in the bed. Someone or something had touched her leg. She sat up straight in shock and though to room was dark, she notice the blonde hair and lovely, oddly peaceful, face of her friend Yelena.  

The blonde was dead asleep and had apparently gotten into the bed silently and simply gone to sleep. Kate laid back down as quietly as possible, resting her head on the pillow facing Yelena. Her friend was beautiful. Was it creepy to watch her sleep? After all, they weren’t a couple. She imagined the assassin knowing she was watching her sleep and pretending to be asleep just the scare the crap out of her at any moment. But, she didn’t. Kate also marveled at forwardness of Yelena getting into her bed. Did the woman even consider that Kate might not have wanted it? Or, did she think, or already know, that Kate had fantasized about it many times?

From where her head lay, Kate could see that Yelena was still wearing her tactical suit, at least the under armour long sleeve that zipped up to her neck. Without removing any covers, Kate lightly touched her friend’s leg with a big toe. Yes, she was still wearing her spy pants for lack of a better term. Kate thought it could not be comfortable to sleep in those clothes. She thought they might be too hot, too itchy with sweat. She could how sweat had dried in her hair, at the temples and scalp. Yelena Belova was in her bed. The mysterious woman had literally broken into her life, first making herself at home in her apartment, now making herself at home in her bed. Was Kate such a pushover or did it go deeper than that.

“Do not overthink, Kate Bishop,” Yelena said through a yawn. “It will keep us both awake. Do you want me to go to futon?”

“No,” Kate replied, easily. “You’re fine.”

“Okay. Good night.”

 *****

Seguir leyendo

Kate to Yelena: Stop making me like you

Then live with it. You did an awful thing, it doesn’t make you a terrible person.

All aboard the "enemies to lovers" trope train *toot tooooot*

Endlessly wishing the Thunderbolts post credit scene was a variation on this. (The scene script is 100 percent mine)

Someone’s clingy