The whole time it took her to get ready, your eyes had been glued to her. watching her slip into her yellow dress, watching closely when she put on ever little one of her rings, even when she slid into her black boots. Your eyes never left her.
So when you slid into the car across from her, and she kicked out her leg, looking at you with lidded eyes, and says, “Babe, look how good my legs look right now,” you couldn’t help but grin.
“Oh, I’ve looked at them, along with every single part of your body today, how could I not...” You run your hand along her delicately smooth skin, leaning closer to her. “You are absolutely stunning.” you look her deep in the eyes, “So delicious.”
Your hand moves further up her leg, gently caressing her skin, slowly moving her legs apart from each other.
“I have been watching you run around the hotel all day, getting ready, dancing around in your little lacy sets..” you exhale slowly, suddenly finding it harder to control yourself.
There was an ache growing between your currently clutched legs at the sight of her. All the inappropriate thoughts flooding your mind. You knew that you weren’t going to be able to get away with all of them, but that didn’t mean that you couldn’t indulge in some of them.
As you watch her closely, your eyes holding a sinful exposure to them, you slide your hand just to the apex of her thighs. Your eyes fall closed just for a moment as you feel her arousal seeping through her thin sheer panties.
Her breath hitches at your touch, her lips now pressed into a thin line, and her brows raised. You could see the small objection in her eyes, the small fear of the driver hear or seeing anything, but you didn’t care, you needed her.
“relax, love,” you whisper to her, “I need you to be quite for me, can you do that?” She feebly nods her head. Usually you would make her repeat it to you, but you were pressed for time, and not to mention you weren’t sure that you could hold off any longer.
You pull her panties to the side, letting your fingers run through her folds, your fingers collecting her arousal. You tease her entrance, watching the way she tries her hardest not to make a peep.
Shoving two fingers into her needy hole, she sucks in a harsh breath through her teeth, Her head falls back and her hand grabs onto the arm of the door. Her legs instinctively closing around your hand. Your free hand grasping her soft thighs, pushing them back apart.
The sight sending beautiful shivers all down your body, your own cunt clenching around nothing but thin air. You move your fingers inside her, curling them to hit her sweet spot just right, watching the rise and fall of her chest, watching the way her breasts move in the slightest. fuck, she was perfect.
The softest moans you had ever heard from her trickle out of her perfectly glossed lips. “So perfect for me, love.” you say with a grin. your fingers coaxing more sounds from her.
Adding your thumb to her clit not only increases her pleasure, but also causes her to whine, her hips moving with the motion of your hand as she desperately chases her release.
You hold your finger up to your lips, a simple reminder to stay quiet. “Baby-” she mumbles.
“I know, darling...come for me..” you hum.
Picking up your pace just slightly, you feel her walls tighten around you. Her body jerks forward as her climax hits her. her eyes closed, her lips pressed together as she comes completely undone on your fingers, your hand.
You push her through it, letting her ride out her high until her hand grabs your forearm, a silent plea. You remove your fingers from her, bringing them to your lips, sucking them clean. You can’t help the pleased moan that leaves you at the taste of her. “So sweet,” you whisper, pulling your fingers out with a pop.
Right as she goes to open her mouth the driver calls out, “We are here.”
You give her a cheeky grin, leaning forward and pecking her lips before you open the door and slide out, holding it for her. “We will be continuing this later..”
I guess I will liveblog (sporadically) all the marvel media I saw tons of hype for and never got around to watching until now. blacklist 'mcu liveblog' till idk the end of the weekend probably if you don't care.
starting with: black widow
I remember during the first wave of mcu movies I really wished they would make this movie. Kinda feels too little too late now to be honest, given she already died in the most insulting way.
Anyway, Florence Pugh and David Harbour giving supremely sympathetic and funny performances is not enough to make this movie good. The movie plays at two concepts to begin with that might have had the potential to make it interesting: Natasha's squishy humanity in comparison to the rest of the avengers and Natasha's questionable morality.
The former, they play with once or twice but ultimately drop as a theme in favor of having her do a bunch of cool action scenes. The latter is nothing but smokescreen. She spends the whole movie sacrificing herself for others and doing the right thing over and over; she has since like the first avengers movie.
The problem with this is that Natasha is a really boring character by now. She's not morally ambiguous and she's not fun, she's just really good at everything she does. The whole showdown scene between her and the bad guy towards the end, I was not at all in suspense as to whether she was playing him. To be clear, characters don't need to be morally ambiguous to be interesting, but Natasha has no internal conflict for the entire film, she always has a plan and knows what to do. There's no low point for her. She's just a good person who's good at what she does and always knows what to do. Really, it's far more Yelena's film in terms of emotional growth, except Yelena doesn't get enough screen time for that either.
On a bigger storytelling level, I wish they would let these movies have small stakes. This would be a much much better film if the guy running the red room was in fact just running his creepy exploitative scheme in a collapsing empire that no one cares about. It would especially make Alexei's subplot of realizing his own insignificance more poignant because he would have to face the fact that he and the guy running the red room (I cannot remember his name for the life of me even though I am still watching the final minutes of this film, sorry) are kind of the same.
finally, the further forward into the 2000s we go, the worse American cinematic depictions of Russian threats look. I remember thinking this about an Angelina Jolie vehicle called "Salt" like fifteen years ago already, but I truly wonder when Hollywood will start making films about the truly scary aspects of modern-day Russia, like Russian use of media and propaganda, or how the web of mutual dependency between European countries and Russia in terms of finance and oil/gas makes meaningful resistance politically impossible, or the use of satellite wars in the Cold War. Like, I know the pentagon funds all this crud, but it would genuinely be a much better film if the moral ambiguity were not ~ooh is natasha a morally ambiguous character no she's not~ but rather ~ooh world leaders all over know about and make use of the red room and the exploitation of the world's most vulnerable but they accept it and promote propaganda denying it because they stand to profit from the use of these brainwashed girls~
also y'know where is the trauma for all those girls who JUST got deprogrammed? Where is the messiness of that situation? Again, I wish Yelena had gotten the chance to show off some more internal conflict and confusion and PTSD, because I know she has it and that Florence Pugh has the chops.
Summary: Every few nights, Yelena shows up at your door; and with each visit, your heart breaks a little more.
A/N: Inspired by the brief guilty look on Yelena when she's talking with Kate in ep 5 of Hawkeye. This story has been sitting in my wips for a while, and as much as I'd like to, I won't be able to write it any better. I've been having a bit of a tough time with creativity lately, do hope it's still kinda good.
The TV was talking to itself in your living room, light rain was falling outside. The sound of water hitting the fire escape mixed with the low rumble of cars passing by had lulled you to sleep about an hour ago.
The remote was loosely held between your fingers, you were half laying down on the couch in a way that your neck would complain about tomorrow.
An annoyed meow coming from your lap woke you up when your arm squeezed the cat too hard. You blinked multiple times, grimacing when a bright image came up on the TV.
Soft paws were moving around above your thighs, you glided your fingers amongst the fur, stifling a yawn. The moon could be seen high in the sky through your window, falling rain being illuminated by the street lamps far away. You rummaged around for your phone, the clock read 11:48 PM once you found it.
You stretched your body, a random movie was playing on your TV. "We should take this to the bedroom, right honey?" You scratched behind the cat's ears, he purred happily.
The movie stopped playing with a click on the remote, leaving the room in darkness save for the light in the kitchen. The windows remained partially open, despite the wind being a little colder up in your apartment, you still liked it.
You were halfway through brushing your teeth when you heard the faint ding of the elevator. You wondered if it was the old lady that lived next door who was coming home late again, having spent the day with her son; you would certainly hear all about it tomorrow, she loves to talk and you are too polite to not listen. Or maybe it was the guy from two doors to the right, coming back from his weekly trip to the club.
Putting away your toothbrush, you waited to hear one of the doors unlocking; but instead, you heard a hard knock on your door.
You glanced up at yourself in the bathroom mirror. Not many people came to visit, let alone at this hour. Yet you were almost sure you already knew who it was.
Your cat trailed behind you as you walked to the door, you held your breath when you turned the doorknob.
The first thing you noticed was how her blood was staining the ground in a dark shade of red, little droplets of it traced her path from the elevator to your door; most of it was coming from an ugly cut on her thigh. She was panting heavily, you wouldn't be surprised if she had run all the way to your apartment.
Her forehead had a cut, painting bits of her blonde hair in crimson. She was leaning on the doorway, her legs not being able to support her weight anymore. You could also see dark bruises on her knuckles, and you knew that when you took off her shirt you would find more.
Your gaze moved up and down her body. Your lips were pursed in annoyance but you could feel your eyes stinging. She didn't say anything as you seemingly analyzed her, she knew better already.
You raised an eyebrow in a silent question, your fingers holding the doorknob turned white from the grip.
She shrugged as if it was no big deal, but she broke your staring contest for half a second. "Had nowhere else to go." Her voice was strained, she held her abdomen as she spoke.
The cheap light of the corridor was making her bruises look much worse, making the many droplets of rain coating her hair and clothes shine. You felt nausea building up in your stomach. "Damnit, Yelena." You heaved out a heavy sigh, bringing a hand up to your eyes.
Yelena clenched her jaw, focusing her eyes on your cat that had just hopped up on the couch. "I'll be leaving soon."
"Yeah, I know that part." You grumbled, pulling the door open for her to walk in. The air was heavy as she limped towards your couch, lowering herself to a sitting position as if every movement hurt more than the last.
The only sounds in the living room were the rain falling outside and Yelena's labored breathing as you walked to your bathroom and picked up your first aid kit, which now held much more stuff than a normal one. You felt a familiar weight on your chest, the movement of your hands was mechanical by now.
You placed the kit on the sink and took a moment to lean back on the wall of the bathroom. Your unfocused eyes stared ahead at the white tiles. A part of you asked why you did this to yourself every night that she knocked on your door. The other part knew the answer.
Yelena was no stranger to you, much on the contrary.
Natasha had introduced her sister to you and the friendship was almost instant. She was captivating, and you fell right into her trap.
You never knew she had fallen on yours as well, having been too wrapped up in your own feelings to notice hers.
But that was a long time ago. A time before you both came back to a world that was five years ahead of you. You had met up with Yelena twice right after. The first time when she came to you looking for Natasha, the second when you held her body as she cried in front of her sister's grave.
For months, you never saw her again after that. Until she showed up at your door one night, bruised and battered and almost dying from blood loss. The routine had started then.
You wondered if she knew how hard it became for you.
You walked out of the bathroom and saw Yelena gently petting your cat, she was sitting stiffly on your couch. Seeing her always made you smile, despite the circumstances. You sat beside her quietly, your eyes cast down and focused on finding gauzes, antiseptics, and needles.
Yelena glanced towards you, bright green eyes pleading for words she knew you wouldn't give to her. Her fingers twitched to touch you, yet she didn't know how to reach out. With a tired breath, she moved to take off her vest and shirt, hissing at the instant pain that came with the movement.
"Let me." You said softly, finally looking her way. With gentle fingers, you opened her vest, shrugging it off her shoulders carefully. Next, you worked on lifting her shirt, mumbling apologies when quiet whimpers came from Yelena.
The air got caught up in your throat when her chest was bare to you. There were purple and yellow bruises all over her skin, some bigger than others and a prominent one on her ribs. A few cuts adorned her abdomen and upper back as well.
"Lena…" You breathed out, seeing your vision start to blur. You raised a careful hand, ghosting your fingertips over her shoulders and spine. Her skin was soft and warm under your touch, your heart was torn for seeing it so damaged though.
Visible goosebumps erupted on Yelena's skin at your touch, she leaned towards you instantly. Closing her eyes, she gulped down a lump in her throat; yours was the only gentle touch she knew these days.
"I know." Her voice was equally quiet, tainted with self-loathing.
You shook your head, drawing your hand back quickly and switching your attention to patching her up. She stayed quiet for the next hour that you spent cleaning up, stitching, and treating any and all the wounds she had tonight. You did the best you could and only hoped she'd take a day or two off to heal and rest. In the back of your mind, you knew she wouldn't.
The ice was cold in your hands, you placed it over Yelena's ribs slowly, watching as her stomach involuntarily wanted to move away from it. You held it in place as she leaned back on your couch, closing her eyes. Your gaze moved over her body, now filled with white tapes and bandages.
Yelena had yet to relax, you could see how tense her muscles were. You reached out for her hand, her eyes opened to look at you once your fingers closed around her own. You guided her hand to the ice pack on her ribs, closing her hold around it.
Her eyes never left you as you moved closer to her and started undoing the messy braids on her hair. You threaded your fingers through her soft locks, stopping at her cheek and tracing the outline of her jaw; not caring if she saw the emotions reflecting on your eyes.
Along with the movement of your thumb on her skin, a bittersweet smile appear on your lips. Your love for her clenched painfully in your chest.
Yelena's lips parted in shaky breaths, her fingers closing more tightly around the ice. Her gaze inevitably moved down to your lips, thinking about the few stolen moments you had with each other every other night. After a beat, she leaned forward in a daze.
"Why are you doing this?"
Yelena opened and closed her mouth, her nose brushed yours before she pulled back to look at you properly. "What?" She breathed out, not registering your words.
You gulped, moving away from her and retreating your hands. Burying away the thought that she was about to kiss you. "Why are you still doing this to yourself, Lena?"
The question made Yelena avert her gaze, the light of the kitchen highlighted her profile. She let go of the ice that was resting on her ribs, placing it on the coffee table. "You know why."
There was a pause, and a scoff left your lips. "No I don't, you keep hurting yourself and every time I'm the one who needs to patch you up. And for what, doing someone else's dirty work?"
Green eyes glared right at you, but the tears on them betrayed the anger. She stood up fast, her bruised leg failed her right after and she almost fell back. She limped away from you before you could reach out, searching around for her clothes.
"I'm doing a job that I'm good at, it's what I was trained to do." The words tasted bitter on Yelena's tongue, she refused to turn back, afraid of how you'd be looking at her. "What else is there for me?"
A single tear escaped your eye, having a last look at the harsh colors painting Yelena's back before she put her shirt back on. Her movements were stiff and labored, she was standing up with all of her weight on only one leg.
"It's not what Natasha would want for you." Your voice broke halfway through the quiet words, doubting you'd ever be able to make her see how much she was losing. "You don't need a life like this anymore, just... stay."
Yelena huffed out a nervous breath, making quick work of walking to the door. Anger and hurt clouded her better judgment.
When her hand hesitated on the doorknob, you decided you had enough. "I won't stand by and watch you tear yourself apart for nothing." You got up, picking up your cat to ground yourself. "I'm done, Yelena." The whisper was heavy.
Yelena turned her gaze to you, her fingers loosening on the handle.
The room became agonizingly quiet for a few seconds. Her eyes were fixed on the cat in your arms, it hurt that she wouldn't look up at you. "If you walk out that door, don't bother coming back." Your throat was tight around the words, but you forced them out anyway.
You heard the front door opening as you made your way to your bedroom.
As much as it hurt, you couldn't bear the thought of her showing up one day at your door, and you not being enough to patch her up. Or the day that she wouldn't make it to your door at all.
If your love wasn't enough to make her stay, then you weren't going to wait for her to come back either.
Yelena closed your apartment door with a soft click, the sound resonated through her body like a punch.
The steps she took towards the elevator were slow, water was collecting on the bottom lid of her eyes faster than the way she was moving. Alone. She suddenly felt painfully alone.
It was way past midnight and all the doors in the corridor were already closed. Rain was pouring outside, she could hear the clinking of one failing light on the ceiling. It felt wrong to walk away from the only person that remained in her life, the person she cared about the most.
Yelena was stubborn, she pressed the button to call the elevator up with a faint touch. By the heavy weight on her heart, she could tell it wasn't worth it. The job she hated doing wasn't worth losing you over.
She grimaced when a tug of pain came from her bruised abdomen, ghosting her hand over it. She would miss you.
The elevator reached her with a ding and the doors opened. All she had to do was walk two steps forward. It felt as if she would put a bullet through her own heart.
Deep down she knew she was still trying to atone for the mistakes of her past. Doing a job she was told was rightful work, even if the means weren't the best, made her feel a little more deserving of coming back to you.
But coming back every few nights and leaving before sunrise wasn't nearly enough anymore. She wanted to stay and wake up beside you.
Yelena ran a hand through her messy hair, cursing herself under her breath. She limped back to your door with the nagging fear that it might be too late.
Her fingers trembled slightly as she gently turned the doorknob. The room was engulfed in darkness already, the only light coming from the street lamps and the moonlight.
She hesitated in the middle of your living room, her eyes fixed on the opened door that lead to your bedroom. There was a catch in her breathing as she heard the rustling of sheets coming from your room. Yelena gulped down the lump of feelings in her throat.
What if you really don't want anything to do with her anymore.
Shaking her head, she ignored the pain in her leg and walked to your room. Her hand rested on the threshold as she peered inside. She could feel her stomach twisting in anxiousness, her feelings for you grew way beyond her control.
Yelena knew that you knew she was there, you heard the door opening, heard her unsteady steps.
Soft light coming through your window from the streets outside illuminated her as she walked to the empty side of your bed. She sat down first, afraid to overstep any new boundaries.
When she heard nothing but your breathing, and you kept laying down with your back to her; Yelena carefully removed her vest, then her boots, and lifted the covers.
The softness of your bed was familiar to her, she breathed in your scent. Her fingers prickled to reach out for you, she bit her lip in doubt.
Eventually, her tired body and the way she was craving to feel you, won her over. Yelena reached out a careful hand, sneaking it around your waist. When you didn't complain she moved closer, pressing her chest to your back.
As soon as you felt Yelena's warm hand over your waist, your eyes stung with tears. You didn't hold yourself back from interlocking your fingers with her hand that was now resting gently around you.
Feeling that you accepted her touch, Yelena let out a breath she didn't realize she was holding until now. She finally tightened her grip around you, nuzzling her head behind your neck and flushing your bodies together. "I'm sorry." She mumbled, lips brushing against your skin.
The single tear that you felt in the skin of your neck was warm, as was her breathing that caused goosebumps on your body.
You lifted your intertwined hands to your lips, kissing each one of Yelena's knuckles. "It's okay." You told her just as quietly.
You couldn't know if keeping her close was your best decision. But pushing her away hurt much more.
Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are very much appreciated. <3