sycamorelibrary754

[sycamorelibrary754]

(NOT my art! Credit to the artist!!)

HAPPY PRIDE MONTH YALL!!!

[sycamorelibrary754]

Exactly!!

scarlet johannson did not spend an entire decade fighting tooth and nail to make natasha into an actual character instead of the sex object writers wanted her to be while also having to endure the most vile, misogynistic questions during press tours for people to now disrespect her legacy because yelena is 'better'. the only reason why that is, is because of everything scarlet went through. natasha singlehandedly paved the way for every other female superhero in the mcu and don't you forget that

[sycamorelibrary754]

Beating Around the Drum

Summary: Bob is searching for a hobby.

Pairings: Robert Reynolds x Thunderbolts*

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: Spoilers for Thunderbolts*! Read at your own risk.

A/N: I love Bob.

Yelena pulled into the parking lot of the therapist's office, the gentle hum of her car's engine fading into serene silence as she turned the ignition off. Her eyes flicked to the dashboard clock, and she noted with some relief that she had arrived a few minutes early to pick up Bob. The past few months had been strenuous post-Void, and Yelena had taken on the role of his steadfast rock, his trusted confidante, and his unwavering ride-or-die.

Her gaze wandered out the car window, taking in the world outside. People moved along the sidewalk, some wearing easy smiles while others were glued to their phone screens, each absorbed in their realities. In her heart, Yelena held a deep admiration for Bob's resilience, but now, with the fresh shadows of a Bipolar episode clouding his mind, the spark of his typically bright spirit seemed to have dimmed.

Suddenly, the therapist's office door swung open, allowing Bob to step out. He paused for a moment, scanning the parking lot until he caught sight of Yelena's car. A faint, almost tentative smile crept onto his lips as he approached. In that instant, Yelena felt warmth in her chest; she would do anything to see that smile radiate again.

“Hey,” Bob greeted as he slid into the passenger seat and fastened his seatbelt with a slight sigh. “Thanks for picking me up.”

"Anytime," Yelena replied, softening her voice to ease his burdens. "How was therapy?"

Bob shrugged lightly, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his features. "It was...good, I guess. Dr. Riley says I'm making progress."

Yelena offered him a supportive smile as she pulled out of the parking lot. "That's great, Bob. You’re stronger than you think and will get through this."

An enveloping silence settled into the car as they navigated the streets together. Bob drifted into his thoughts while Yelena respected the space he needed. As they neared the tower, she caught sight of his gaze, his eyes momentarily brightening before settling distant once more.

"Hey, Bob?" Yelena ventured, breaking the tranquil quiet. "How about we grab some dinner at that new diner downtown? I could really go for some comforting food."

Bob turned to her, a subtle warmth returning to his expression. "That sounds perfect."

As they stepped inside, the diner was bustling with life. The air was thick with the mingling scents of fried food and freshly brewed coffee, laced with the lively clatter of plates and laughter. As they settled into a booth, the atmosphere seemed to envelop them like a warm embrace. Yelena reached across the table, her fingers brushing against Bob's in a moment of quiet reassurance. "You’re not alone in this, Robert. We’re all here for you."

His eyes caught hers, a flicker of gratitude shining through the shadows. "I don’t know what I’d do without you, Yelena."

At that moment, her heart swelled with affection as she squeezed his hand gently. "You'll never have to find out."

As dinner progressed, Bob mentioned one of Dr. Riley’s latest suggestions. "She thinks I should find a hobby," he said, a humorous glint sparking in his eyes as he took a bite of his cheeseburger. "Something to distract me from everything."

Yelena's eyes lit up as her fork dove into her creamy macaroni and cheese. "That’s a good idea. What are you interested in?"

Bob shrugged, a hint of frustration lining his brow. "I really don’t know. I’ve never really had a hobby."

Their conversation flowed seamlessly, and by the time they finished their meals, Yelena was brimming with ideas. She said as they left the diner, "I’ll talk to the others. We’ll find something you’ll love."

*^~^*

The group converged on Bob's room the following day, each bursting with suggestions. Ever the soldier, John arrived wearing a paintball mask and brandishing gear. "Paintball, bud! Let’s get your adrenaline pumping and blow off some steam!"

Ava rolled her eyes good-naturedly. "John, that’s not exactly soothing. Bob, have you ever thought about photography? I’ve got a fantastic camera you can borrow."

Entering with a stack of cookbooks, Alexi's voice boomed with enthusiasm. "Cooking, comrade! It takes discipline and creativity. You will learn to make the perfect pelmeni!"

Bucky shook his head, chuckling as he disagreed. "That’s absurd. He needs something calming, not more chaos. How about fishing? I’ve got an extra rod at my place. We’ll go together."

Watching the lively debate unfold, Yelena couldn’t help but smile. "I think I have just the thing," she announced, producing a sketchbook and a set of colored pencils from her bag. "Art therapy. Dr. Riley would approve."

As the clamor of ideas swirled around him, Bob sat amid this whirlwind with amusement and unease. But despite the chaos, a flicker of excitement ignited within him. Perhaps, just maybe, he would discover something that could offer him solace.

"Okay, okay," Bob interjected, raising his hands in mock surrender. "I’ll give it all a try... but if it turns out terrible, I’m blaming all of you.”

The days followed were filled with Bob's well-meaning attempts at each new hobby. Sadly, paintball left him covered in bruises, photography resulted in blurry photos, cooking ended in a kitchen fire, fishing bored him to tears, and art therapy...well, his stick figures still resembled kindergarten art projects.

*^~^*

The team dragged themselves back into the tower after an exhausting day of public realtions; fatigue weighed heavily on their shoulders. They shuffled into the common room, limbs encased in lead. Groans of exhaustion echoed as they sank into chairs.

The atmosphere shifted suddenly. A loud crashing and clattering erupted down the hall, startling everyone from their tranquil state.

“What in the hell is that?” Bucky shouted, eyes wide with confusion and concern.

Ava’s voice rose above the noise, “It sounds like it's coming from Bob’s room!”

Adrenaline surged through the group as they instinctively brandished their weapons, dread creeping into their minds. They feared the worst—that Sentry had somehow resurfaced and was attacking Bob again. Moving as a unit, they rushed toward his door, tension knotting in their stomachs. Without hesitation, Alexi stepped forward and delivered a swift kick, sending the door crashing inward.

John peeked inside as the door flew open, and his voice trailed off as he lowered his weapon. “Oh my God…”

Bob was inside, practically glowing with enthusiasm, his eyes sparkling as he clutched a pair of drumsticks in each hand. “Look what I got! A drum set! Isn’t it awesome?” he exclaimed.

Ava raised an eyebrow. "Bob, what happened to art therapy?"

Bob shrugged. "I was watching Whiplash last night, and I just felt inspired. I mean, Andrew Neyman's got the passion, the drive...I want to be like that."

Bucky blinked. "Whiplash? The movie about abusive drum instructors?"

Bob nodded enthusiastically. "That's the one! I mean, who wouldn't want to be a world-class drummer, right?"

Yelena chuckled, setting down her gear. "Bob, maybe you should start with something a little less...high-pressure?"

But he was undeterred, tapping out a rhythm on the snare. "No way, I've got this! I've been practicing for hours. Watch this!"

The group exchanged skeptical glances as Bob began to play. The sounds that emerged were akin to a cat in distress. Bucky winced, covering his ears. "Perhaps you need more practice?"

Bob stopped mid-beat, looking crestfallen. But then, a determined glint sparkled in his eye. "You're right! I just need to practice more. I'll be the best drummer this side of Manhattan."

The team hesitated, unsure whether to encourage Bob's new passion or stage an intervention. As they watched him enthusiastically drum on, they realized that this was exactly what Bob needed – something that made him feel alive, even if it drove everyone else crazy.

"Well," Yelena said, smiling, "at least it's keeping you occupied."

John chuckled. "Occupied? He's occupying the entire floor with noise."

Bob, still drumming away, grinned. For the first time in a long while, he felt like himself – imperfect, passionate, and a little bit loud.

*^~^*

As the days passed, Bob's drumming became a fixture in the tower. The team would often gather outside his door, wincing as the sounds of crashing cymbals and thudding drums assaulted their ears.

But amidst the chaos, one person emerged as Bob's biggest fan: Alexi. The Red Guardian would sit in Bob's room, nodding in time with a slight smile.

"Robert, you have a natural talent," Alexi said, his Russian accent sharp and distinct. "The passion, the energy – it's like a symphony of industrial machinery from the Soviet era!"

Bob beamed with pride, his face flushed with excitement. "Really, Alexi? You think so?"

The others stared, incredulous. "Alexi, have you been hit on the head?" John asked. Bob's drumming is… unique."

Alexi would wave his hand dismissively. "You don't understand. Bob's drumming is a manifestation of his inner struggle. It's like a sonic representation of his soul."

Ava raised an eyebrow. "Or maybe it's just a representation of his lack of skill?"

“Hey,” Yelena muttered, smacking her arm. “We’re being supportive here.”

Alexi's face would turn stern. "You're just not listening with the right ears. Bob's drumming is art."

*^~^*

As the weeks passed, Bob's drumming showed only marginal signs of improvement, but Alexi's enthusiasm never wavered. The two would spend hours in his room, drumming and discussing the finer points of Soviet-era music theory.

The others shook their heads, smiling. "I don't get it," Bucky said, "but if it makes Bob happy, that’a all that matters."

Yelena chuckled. "And if it makes Alexi happy, that's a bonus."

[sycamorelibrary754]

Seeds of Friendship

Summary: You're on Bob duty while the rest of the team is away.

Pairings: Robert Reynolds x fem!reader

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: Spoilers for Thunderbolts*!! Read at your own risk.

A/N: My first Bob fic! I would love more requests for Bob or any of the Thunderbolts*!

From the moment Valentina announced you all as The New Avengers, you drew the line at calling it The Watch Tower. It felt disrespectful to the family you had spent so many years with inside its walls. Val had done a real number on the building. What was once a vibrant hub of ingenuity was now a sterile shell of its former self.

You weren't a full-time member of the original team; more like an independent variable they called when they needed your specific skill set. Tony dubbed you Nature’s Fury because of your ability to control the elements, summoning storms or conjuring walls of fire. So, when Bucky called you in a hushed whisper from his Congressional office in D.C. and said he needed your help tracking down a group of rogue misfits, you didn't hesitate.

Nonetheless, now was not the moment to get lost on memory lane; you were on Bob duty. The team had collectively agreed: Bob shouldn’t be left alone. So, each of you took turns keeping him company. “It’s simple,” Yelena had said with a reassuring smile, “Just try to engage him, but if he’s not into it, check in every couple of hours.”

With the rest of the New Avengers bickering like a bunch of kids across the Tower and onto the jet, you took a deep breath and approached Bob’s bedroom door.

You gently knocked. “Robert, can I come in?”

“Sure,” came his soft response.

As you opened the door, you found Bob sprawled on his bed, engrossed in a book.

“Hey, I’m about to start a movie. Want to join me?” you asked.

“No thanks. I think I’ll stick to my book,” he answered meekly, lifting a worn copy of The Fellowship of the Ring.

“Alright, I’ll be in the common area if you need anything,” you reminded him warmly.

“Okay, thanks, Y/N.”

*^~^*

You had settled into a cozy position on the couch, the warm glow of the television casting soft light across the room. As the heartwarming story of "UP" unfolded, you felt your eyelids grow heavy. Time slipped unnoticed, and you were awoken by the gentle sounds of the Pixar credits rolling in the background. Stretching slightly, you blinked a few times, trying to shake off the lingering drowsiness.

Rubbing your eyes, you slowly sat up, startled by the sound of the kitchen cupboard closing. You turned to find Bob standing there, his oversized sweater sleeves drooping past his knuckles, looking rather sheepish.

“Sorry, Y/N. I didn't mean to wake you,” he said, nervously fidgeting with his hands. “I was just looking for something for lunch.”

“It’s all good. Let me whip us up something,” you replied, running your hand through your hair as you rose.

As you rifled through the fridge, you realized someone needed to step up grocery shopping duties—anyone but Alexi, who always seemed to get stuck in the cereal aisle waiting to be recognized from the Wheaties box.

Determined, you pulled out the ingredients for sandwiches. “What’s your pleasure?” you asked, glancing over your shoulder.

“Um, whatever you want works for me,” Bob replied softly, glancing at the floor.

“Bob,” you teased with a smirk. “You know you can actually tell me what kind of sandwich you want.”

He hesitated, then clarified, “Okay, grilled cheese, please?”

“There we go! Two grilled cheese sandwiches coming right up,” you declared with a grin.

You spread a generous layer of butter on each slice of bread and, with care and precision, layered the cheese.

“Uh, don’t you—don’t you need to turn on the stove?” Bob asked his voice a mixture of curiosity and uncertainty.

“Not necessary,” you replied, focusing your energy. A flicker of flame danced to life in your palm, toasting the bread and melting the cheese to gooey perfection in mere moments.

“Right,” Bob mumbled, remembering the surprising talents you possessed.

“So, you used to work here with the… original Avengers?” Bob asked hesitantly.

“Yeah, sometimes,” you replied, sipping your Coke. “Whenever they needed me.”

You could practically see the gears turning in Bob's head for minutes as you ate. Finally, he leaned in closer. “Can I ask you a personal question?”

“Of course,” you encouraged.

“What happened to you that you can do,” he said, gesturing with his hand in a sweeping motion, “that?”

You paused, memories flooding back after years of being buried. It had been ages since you reflected on your past.

“I’m sorry! I shouldn't have pried,” Bob stammered, realizing he might have crossed a line. “I—”

“Robert!” you interjected softly, careful not to push him away completely. You could see the uncertainty in his eyes and didn’t want him to retreat into silence. “It’s alright. I understand how strange this all must seem. I was involved in a Hydra experiment, a variation of the Winter Soldier project. That’s how I came to know Bucky. He was more than just a soldier to me; he was my mentor, guiding me through the darkness of that place. When Bucky finally managed to break free from their control, he didn’t forget me. He returned, risking everything to rescue me from the same fate that had haunted him.”

Bob’s face shifted with sympathy. “That sounds terrible.”

You nodded, surveying the once-familiar confines. “But once I found my way here, things began to shift for me. Trust me, it will happen for you, too.”

Bob averted his gaze, his voice barely above a whisper. “I hope so. I know everyone cares about me, but sometimes it’s hard to believe I belong here.”

You paused, realizing that sometimes words alone aren't enough to bridge the gap. “Come on, I want to share something with you,” you said, an encouraging smile forming on your lips.

*^~^*

Taking the elevator up, you watched Bob shift uncomfortably. Upon reaching the rooftop, your heart sank for a moment as the cranes loomed overhead, obscuring what used to be a breathtaking view of the New York City skyline. Leading him to the roof's south side, you hoped Val hadn’t managed to get her hands on everything just yet.

To your relief, you glanced over and saw the greenhouse that Pepper had lovingly installed still standing, a little oasis amidst the chaos.

“I used to spend countless afternoons up here,” you said, guiding Bob through the greenhouse's door. The familiar scent of damp earth and blooming flowers wafted over you both. I always found solace in nature, far away from the noise and hardness of concrete.”

Bob nodded, his fingers nervously twirling a lock of his tousled brown hair. “I like nature too,” he replied, his voice quiet and reflective. “When my parents would argue, and things turned… intense, I would slip outside to the garden. It was always so calm and peaceful out there.”

You continued exploring the rows of leafy plants and the vibrant colors surrounding you, pausing to hold up a small, unassuming pot that sat neglected on a shelf. Its surface was dusty and cracked, seeming empty at first glance.

“Um... it looks empty,” Bob remarked, his brow furrowing in disappointment as he peered into the pot, searching for signs of life.

With a warm and reassuring smile, you shook your head gently. “It may appear empty right now, but with a little care and nurturing, it holds the promise to thrive and transform into something beautiful.”

You waved your hand over the pot, and with a soft rustling sound, a small begonia bulb began to push its way through the rich soil, its vibrant green leaves unfurling as if reaching for the light.

“Do you see the point I’m trying to make, Robert?” you inquired, your eyes searching his for understanding.

Bob raised an eyebrow, a hint of curiosity creeping into his expression. “That we’re both just sad little bulbs too afraid to emerge from the shadows of our rooms?” he suggested, a weary smile playing on his lips.

You shook your head, your thoughts swirling as you tried to articulate your feelings more clearly. “Yes! Wait, no, that’s not it,” you corrected yourself, your hands gesturing animatedly. “We may be shy and feel out of place in this world, but if we allow others to help us, we can find our way through this darkness and be okay.”

“Okay, yeah. That makes more sense,” Bob replied with a warm, infectious smile that lit up his face. He tilted his head slightly as he looked at the vibrant begonia in his hands, its rich green leaves and delicate pink blooms swaying gently. “Do you think anyone would mind if I put this in my room?” he asked, a hint of uncertainty in his voice.

“I don't think they would mind at all,” you reassured him, gently reaching out to grasp his hand.

At that moment, the serene atmosphere of the greenhouse was interrupted as the building trembled slightly. The familiar hum of a jet gently echoed in the distance, growing louder as it approached. You stepped outside, feeling a playful breeze tousle your hair while the jet descended gracefully onto the landing pad nearby.

Standing there with Bob, the pot cradled carefully in his arms; you watched as the team emerged from the aircraft, one by one.

“Hey, Bobby! Nice flower!” John called out playfully, a teasing glint in his eyes as he pointed at the begonia.

Ava, standing beside him, shot him a playful shove. “Stuff it, Walker,” she retorted, her tone light-hearted yet protective. “It’s pretty.”

“I see you two visited the greenhouse,” Bucky observed.

“Yeah, I’m going to put this flower in my room,” Bob declared proudly, a newfound confidence shining through his voice.

“That is wonderful Бобик (Bob),” Alexi boomed, his deep voice reverberating as he patted the young man's back with a hearty thump, causing him to stumble forward. “The tower could use more color,” he added, guiding Bob back toward the entrance with a hand on his shoulder.

Yelena stood nearby; her eyebrow arched skeptically as she looked between you and Bob. “You brought him up to the roof?” she asked her tone a mix of curiosity and caution.

“I was going for a metaphor,” you explained, the words spilling out sheepishly, an apologetic smile gracing your lips.

“Alright,” Yelena agreed after a moment of consideration. “As long as he doesn't fall off,” she added, a flicker of affection for Bob dancing in her eyes.

You took one last look at Bob as he engaged with the rest of the team, his face lighting up with every interaction. A smile crept onto your face. “He’s going to be just fine,” you thought, feeling a surge of hope for the young man who had found his place among you.

[sycamorelibrary754]

Guardian Angel

Chapter 16: As The Smoke Clears

Summary: The aftermath of the Candy Bar fire is weighing heavily on you. You insist you're fine, but you immerse yourself in endless tinkering, a distraction from the pain that refuses to fade. Yet, amidst your restless energy, Wanda is quietly grappling with her own suffering. But her silence won't last forever…

Warnings: PTSD, hearing voices.

Word Count: 6.2k

Guardian Angel Masterlist

“Mom!! Help us!” Tommy’s frantic voice pierced the thick, suffocating air.

“Mom! Please!!” Billy cried out, desperation ringing in every syllable.

“Wanda!” you screamed, your throat raw from the smoke that choked you and filled your lungs with ash, your pleas barely escaping in a hoarse whisper.

Wanda shot up in bed, her heart pounding violently against her ribcage. A cold sweat drenched her body, and she could feel the remnants of a nightmare clinging to her like a damp blanket. It was foolish to think she would find peace or rest tonight; sleep had become an elusive stranger. Ever since the fire at the Candy Bar, she was plagued by restless nights, haunted by visions of you and the boys trapped in the inferno, cries for help echoing in her mind. The thought of the team racing against time and the agonizing possibility that they might not reach you in time twisted like a knife in her gut.

The redhead looked at you, lost in a tranquil sleep, utterly oblivious to the storm inside her. It had been a week since the fire, and the weight of her unspoken trauma hung heavily in the air. She knew she was struggling, but there was no way she could let you see that. 

You have enough on your plate already. The insurance company had turned a deaf ear, refusing to cover the full cost of rebuilding the beloved shop you and Harper poured your hearts into. With dwindling savings and mounting pressures, Wanda couldn’t bear the thought of adding to your worries. Or, more accurately, your lack of worries. She could see that you were hurting. Yet, you stubbornly masked your discomfort with a brave facade, determined not to let it show.

Wanda slipped quietly out of bed, her heart pounding softly in the house's stillness. She crept down the hall to the boys’ room. Gently pushing the slightly ajar door, she peered inside to see Billy and Tommy nestled comfortably in their beds, their peaceful faces a balm to her soul. 

She couldn't help but reach out, her fingers brushing against Billy’s cheek and tenderly running her hand through Tommy’s tousled hair. Her sons were alive and safe. 

She let her magic flow, swirling in a soft red haze around their faces and diving into their dreams. The sight of her boys playing with Sparky filled her heart; there was no sign of the fire. A tinge of jealousy flickered within her—how unfair it seemed that their minds were untouched by the horrors she still grappled with: the war, the missile, Ultron, Westview.

But as much as her scars ached, she wouldn’t trade a second of their happiness for her peace. If enduring her pain meant preserving the joyful innocence of Billy and Tommy, she would willingly face it all again.

With her heart a little lighter, Wanda tiptoed out of their room and into the darkened kitchen, the shadows wrapping around her like an old friend. With a wave of her hand, the cupboards creaked open, magically boiling water and steeping chamomile tea with effortless finesse. 

Sparky, sensing her presence, stood up and whimpered softly. “Can’t sleep either, huh, Sparky?” she whispered, bending down to scoop him up. He tilted his head curiously as she settled onto the couch, her steaming cup of tea floating behind her.

Cradling the dog in her arms, she took a long, slow breath, letting the warmth of the tea and the comforting silence envelop her.

“Wanda…”

The sound echoed softly through the dimly lit room, jolting the redhead upright. She dismissed it, attributing the eerie whisper to the house settling with its usual creaks. Taking a cautious sip of her tea, she tried to shake off the unease.

“Wanda…”

“Okay, this isn’t funny!” Her voice wavered as she scanned the empty room, eyes darting from shadow to shadow. There was no one there.

Wanda held Sparky a little tighter, cradling him as she carried her mug to the sink, rinsing it out while lost in thought. Sensing her unease, Sparky leaned up and gently licked her cheek, offering a moment of comfort.

“Thanks, buddy,” Wanda murmured, feeling the tension lift. All at once, a tap on her shoulder shattered the stillness. She spun around, letting out a startled scream, her eyes flashing red in surprise.

“Whoa! It’s just me!” you exclaimed, surrendering your hands.

Wanda’s heart raced, and she let out an exasperated gasp, pressing a hand to her chest. “Oh my God! Don’t do that!” She playfully slapped your arm, frustration and relief washing over her.

“I’m sorry! I woke up, and you weren’t there,” you defended, concern etched on your face. “Are you alright?”

Wanda glanced past you, her gaze sweeping the room one last time before meeting your eyes. “Yeah, I’m fine. I couldn’t sleep, so I came downstairs for tea.”

“Oh, okay,” you replied, rubbing your eyes. “Well, I can't sleep without you, so….” You nodded toward the bedroom with a warm smile.

“Yeah, let’s head back to bed,” Wanda agreed, brushing past you with a lightness in her step, Sparky still tucked close to her.

“Uh, honey, aren’t you forgetting something?” you teased, pointing at the furry companion in her arms.

Hoping you wouldn't question her reasoning, Wanda said, “Sparky couldn’t sleep either, so I thought he might join us for the night.”

You couldn't help but smirk, “Fine by me.” 

With that, she trailed behind you into the bedroom, casting one last anxious glance over her shoulder.

*^~^*

“I think we're making a mistake,” Steve declared as he followed Tony through the lab's cluttered chaos. Every surface was packed with half-finished innovations and gadgets in various stages of assembly.

Tony looked up, raising an eyebrow, “Color me surprised, Captain. You usually are the voice of reason.”

“It’s been a week,” Steve continued, his brow furrowing as he crossed his arms. “Y/N deserves to know that her parents ordered the hit on her shop. She can’t just live in the dark about this.”

Tony turned slowly, his expression shifting to one of frustration. “Look,” he said, his tone dropping slightly. “It’s not easy growing up believing your parents are against you instead of supporting you. Trust me; I know.”

Steve shook his head vigorously, determination etched on his face. “I’m telling her the first chance I get. I’m not letting this go on any longer. She’s been through enough already.”

Tony sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as if he were trying to stave off a headache. “That’s bound to make for a joyful holiday! Merry Christmas, Y/N! Oh, and just a little tidbit—your parents almost killed you.” 

Steve shot Tony a stern look, clearly not amused. 

“Come on, Cap,” Tony defended himself, “She already hates them anyway. What’s the difference?”

Steve stepped closer, his voice firm. “Because we don’t keep secrets, Tony. That’s not who we are. After everything she’s been through, she deserves the truth.”

With a resigned sigh, Tony ran a hand through his hair. “Oh yeah? Then tell me the truth about you and Peggy. Oh, I’m sorry—Captain Carter,” he said mockingly, a smirk creeping onto his face.

Steve’s jaw tightened, and he stared at Tony momentarily. Finally, he turned on his heel and stalked toward the door.

“Uh-huh, that’s what I thought,” Tony called after him, his amusement returning as he returned to work.

*^~^*

“Alright, my little pastry chefs!” you announced, setting down a collection of ingredients and cookie cutters on the kitchen counter of the compound, much to the excited eyes of Billy, Tommy, and Morgan. “Today, we’re making Christmas cookies, not just any cookies—oh no! We’re making my award-winning, blue ribbon Christmas cookies.”

“Are you certain you are up for this, sweetheart? I thought Harper was coming over later to re-hash the insurance claim?” Wanda leaned in closer, her voice a whisper tinged with concern.

“Yes, but don't fret sweetheart; I'm always up for cookies!” you replied, smiling brightly.

“If you say so,” Wana said, worry churning in her stomach. Moments like this made her thankful you couldn't read her mind.

“Can we eat the dough?” Morgan asked innocently, redirecting your focus back to the children bouncing with anticipation.

“No, sweetheart. That could upset your tummy,” Wanda said.

Still, as soon as Wanda turned her back, you leaned in closer and whispered conspiratorially, “But a little taste won’t hurt.”

“Now, who’s ready for some festive spirit before we get baking? Everyone grab your Santa hats!” you declared, distributing the cheerful headwear. You slid one onto your head, playfully adjusting it before handing one to Wanda.

With the hats on, you dove into mixing the dough while Wanda and the kids whipped up the frosting. You couldn’t resist the allure of the dough yourself; sneaking a tiny piece, you hummed in delight at the familiar sweetness. Out of the corner of your eye, you slipped a piece to Morgan, raising your finger to your lips with a smirk. 

“Shh,” you said softly, then handed some to Billy and Tommy, their eyes lighting up with gratitude.

The warm, inviting aroma of freshly baked sugar cookies wafted through the kitchen, wrapping around you like a comforting blanket. You carefully set the vibrant bowls of white, green, and red frosting on the table, each hue more festive than the last.

Just then, Kate and Peter arrived, eyes wide with delight at the sight of the cookies cooling on the counter.

“Oooh, cookies!” Kate exclaimed as Peter leaned in to grab one.

You quickly slapped his hand away, a playful smile on your face. “Uh-uh! They aren't even decorated yet!” you admonished.

Peter's face fell, and he muttered, “So unfair,” crossing his arms in mock disappointment.

“Would you two like to help?” Wanda asked, her tone inviting.

“Oh, no, that’s okay. " Kate casually waved off the suggestion as she turned to leave.

“Yeah, we’re too old for Christmas cookie decorating,” Peter chimed in, following her lead with a bit of a shrug.

“Are you sure?” you asked, raising an eyebrow in a playful challenge.

“Well, if you insist!” Kate suddenly declared, spinning on her heel and rushing back to the counter, a mischievous sparkle in her eyes.

“Bring on the cookies!” Peter shouted, his enthusiasm igniting as he joined her.

You chuckled at their change of heart and handed the two young Avengers bright red Santa hats. 

“Sweet!” Peter grinned as he plopped the hat atop his head, the fluffy white trim contrasting against his dark hair.

Kate pulled out her phone and said, “I’m sending this to Yelena!” She struck a playful pose with her hat, ready for a selfie, her cheeks flushed with joy.

An hour later, the kitchen resembled a festive battleground, a colorful chaos of frosting and sprinkles strewn across every surface.

Yelena strode into the room. Natasha and Maria followed closely, their cheeks flushed from a vigorous workout.

“I heard a delicious rumor about cookies,” Yelena declared, brandishing her phone and displaying Kate's cheerful selfie. 

“You heard correctly,” Peter replied with a grin, gesturing toward the fridge, where the festive cookies rested, tempting and cool.

The blonde rushed over, retrieving three scrumptious cookies. She handed one to Natasha and Maria, who accepted it with eager smiles, reigniting their post-workout hunger.

“I suppose we should tackle this mess,” you suggested, glancing at the sugar-laden kids who've now spiraled into a gleeful frenzy.

“I got it, detka.” Wanda stepped forward, her hands waving gracefully as vibrant crimson energy swirled around her. In an instant, the chaos began to dissolve; utensils floated back to their places, and the countertops sparkled clean.

Leaning closer to Maria, Natasha lowered her voice to a whisper, “Have you noticed that Wanda has been casting her magic more freely lately?” 

Maria nodded thoughtfully, then countered, “Have you noticed that Y/N is in total denial, doing everything possible to distract herself from what happened to her shop?”

You turned to your friends, anticipation bubbling, eager to hear their thoughts on your festive creation. 

“Delicious,” Natasha said, her eyes lighting up as she savored another bite.

“Excellent,” Maria added, a broad smile spreading across her face as she gave you a thumbs-up of approval. 

“And that’s how it’s done!” you announced, triumphantly dropping the spoon in front of you like a microphone, soaking in the moment. 

“Yeah, definitely in denial,” Natasha whispered to Maria.

*^~^*

“Yes, I understand. But surely there must be some way to reconsider the claim. The damage was extensive, and it’s crucial for us…” Harper’s voice trailed off as she listened intently to the response on the other end of the line. After a brief pause, she sighed deeply. “Yes, I see. Thank you for your time.” With that, she hung up the phone, her shoulders slumping as she sighed heavily.

Meanwhile, you were lost in a whirlwind of inspiration that had struck you like a lightning bolt; an idea for a new chocolate croissant had consumed you. Jotting down notes on a scrap of paper scattered across the table, your hair stood in disarray.

“Y/N… Y/N,” Harper called her tone, snapping you out of your chaotic note-taking.

You finally lifted your gaze to meet Harper’s weary eyes. Dark circles highlighted your exhaustion, but your expression showed an unmistakable sharpness. 

“Were you listening to any of that conversation?” Harper asked a hint of frustration lacing her words.

“No,” you admitted after a brief pause, your mind still partially occupied with croissant formulas. “But I’m guessing by the look on your face that the insurance company didn’t change their minds.”

“No, they didn’t,” Harper replied, sarcasm dripping from her words as she crossed her arms over her chest in disbelief.

“Well, that’s the way it goes, I suppose,” you mumbled, shrugging as if the entire situation was a bump in the road rather than a significant setback.

Harper stared at you incredulously. “That’s the way it goes, I suppose? What is wrong with you?” she shot back.

“What is that supposed to mean?” you questioned, a twinge of defensiveness creeping into your voice.

“It means…” Harper began, standing abruptly from the kitchen table and pushing her chair back with a loud scrape against the floor. “I’ve been doing everything! I've been making all the phone calls and meeting with our insurance agent and the bank while you busy yourself to the point of exhaustion.”

“It’s a choice, Harper. I’m choosing to focus on the things I can control,” you replied firmly, trying to stand your ground.

“Well, here’s a choice for you,” Harper said, her voice rising as her frustration boiled over. “I’m leaving!” she yelled, indignation echoing through the compound.

“Fine, go,” you countered, the words slipping from your lips with a surprising sense of detachment.

Harper gathered her belongings swiftly and frustratedly approached the elevator. She paused, realizing there was no button to call it.

“How do you get the hell out of here? Wednesday!” Harper yelled.

“It’s Friday,” you corrected, a smirk playing at the corners of your lips despite the seriousness of the conversation.

“Friday, get me out of here!” she demanded.

“Yes, Ms. Clark,” Friday replied as the elevator doors opened and promptly closed behind her.

You let out a weary exhale just as Steve walked into the room. 

“Rough meeting?” he asked, a hint of concern in his voice.

“You could say that,” you replied, dragging your hand down your face. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” he pressed gently, his eyes searching yours for a clue.

“Not particularly,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

Steve studied the sadness etched on your features, his expression shifting to earnestness. “Look, Y/N, there's something important I need to tell you.”

Suddenly, Tony burst into the room. “Cap! There you are! I need your feedback on some new suit upgrades I've been working on.”

Steve sighed and glanced toward you, trying to maintain his focus amidst the intrusion. “In a minute. This is important. Y/N and I need to talk about something...”

“Oh, I’m sure it’s super important, Cap,” Tony interjected. “But so is this.” With a swift motion, he activated a control panel on his wrist, causing a holographic display to flicker to life mid-air. The display erupted with a vibrant carousel of images and graphics.

“Hey, Y/N! Did you know research suggests that exposure to excessive amounts of cat videos can reduce stress levels?” Tony jested.

Before you could process what was happening, the display switched gears and began playing cute cat videos — kittens tumbling over themselves, playful paws swatting at strings, and hilarious feline fails. You couldn’t help but chuckle, but your amusement faded as you shifted your gaze back to Steve, who looked increasingly frustrated.

“Tony, this isn’t a joke,” he said, a hint of exasperation creeping into his voice as he attempted to push Tony’s hand away. “I need to talk to Y/N about something serious.”

Unfazed, he positioned himself strategically between you and Steve. “Okay, okay, I get it. But before you continue with your serious chat, can I at least show you this crucial adjustment I made to your suit? It’s a game changer!” He gestured emphatically, changing the display again, where a 3D model of his Captain America suit rotated, highlighting its new features.

“Tony, stop!” Steve demanded, his tone sharpening.

Feeling the tension in the air, you took a step back. “You know what? I think I just heard Wanda calling me. I’ll see you guys later,” you said, slowly backing out of the room, not wanting to be a part of their escalating scuffle. “Good luck with whatever this is,” you added with a light wave as you left.

“What’s your problem?” Steve shouted, his voice echoing through the room.

Tony ran a hand through his hair, exasperated. “I’m sorry, but I just don’t think she needs one of your ‘Captain America talks’ right now,” he replied, his tone sharp. “Just let me take this, Steve. Please?”

Steve paused in contemplation. His lips pressed into a tight line as he weighed his options. “Fine,” he finally relented, jabbing a finger toward Tony. “But you better handle this right.”

*^~^*

A few days later, Tommy and Billy stood at the front door, arguing over who got to open it. Tommy won the tug-of-war over the doorknob and swung the door open, revealing Tony in a tailored suit and tie.

"Hi," Tony said with a smile. "Is your mom around?"

Tommy's eyes lit up. "Uncle Tony! Mom, Uncle Tony is here!" he yelled down the hall.

Billy looked up at Tony with a curious expression. "What are you doing here?"

Tony ruffled Billy's hair. "Just need to discuss something with your Mom and Y/N.

Wanda appeared behind the boys, wiping her hands on a towel. "This is a surprise. Come on in. Boys, why don't you go play while we talk?"

Tommy and Billy exchanged a glance. “Alright, Mom,” Tommy replied, though curiosity danced in both their eyes.

As they hurried out, Tony caught Wanda’s gaze. “Is Y/N around?” he asked, taking off his scarf. 

“Yeah, she’s in the kitchen,” Wanda replied, leading him inside.

You were a whirlwind of activity, expertly juggling trays and baking sheets. You pulled one tray of golden-brown chocolate croissants from the oven just as you slid another in, the sweet aroma filling the air. Then, with a piping bag in hand, you leaned over the cake before you, lost in your decorating.

Tony observed you closely, recognizing the familiar signs of distraction. He’d been there himself after the Battle of New York—immersed in his work, battling insomnia, and shoving down the gnawing anxiety. But instead of crafting suits, you had transformed your home into a real-life version of Candy Land. 

“Hey, Tony! Care for a chocolate croissant?” you called out, a tired grin lighting up your face.

Tony shook his head. “I’ll take a rain check, Y/N.”

You shrugged, the hint of a smile lingering. “Your loss. What brings you by?”

“I need to discuss something important. Can we, uh…?” He gestured toward the family room.

“Sure,” you replied, wiping your hands on your apron and then tossing it aside.

“So,” he began as you all sat down, his voice measured and strong, slicing through the stillness. “We received some intel regarding the fire at the Candy Bar…”

Your brows knit together. “What do you mean? I thought you said they cut the wires to the stove?”

Tony nodded solemnly. “They did, but there’s more… The day of the fire, Belova was listening in on the bug in your parents’ office,” he continued, his voice low. “She heard your dear old dad conversing with a man named Dominic Karofsky—a hitman affiliated with Hydra.”

Puzzlement etched across your features. “I don’t understand,” you replied, the threads of disbelief weaving through your thoughts.

Tony slowly removed his glasses, revealing a deeply pained expression. “Your father was in negotiations with Karofsky. A desperate attempt to—" he paused. “Force you back to Onyx Petroleum for the Sokovia project.”

Wanda instinctively reached for your hand, doing her best to ground you as the shock of Tony’s words crashed over you like icy waves. Your mind raced to catch up, desperately trying to process everything you heard.

“Tony,” your voice shook as you looked down at your lap, numbness creeping in. “Are you telling me that my parents burned down my shop?” The question escaped your lips as a mere whisper, laden with disbelief.

Taking a deep breath, he exhaled slowly, his own emotions barely under control. “Not directly, but yes. I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

You suddenly felt submerged in a deep pool, the world around you muted. His words hit you like whispers through thick glass, their clarity lost beneath the surface.

“Y/N…” Wanda’s voice emerged softly, cutting through the haze and pulling you back to reality. 

You cleared your throat, trying to shake off the disorientation that clung to you. “How much?

“Excuse me?” Tony replied, his brow furrowing in confusion.

“How much did they pay Karofsky for the hit?” you clarified, the urgency in your voice stark against the tension in the room.

“Y/N…” Tony’s tone shifted, now more measured and cautious.

Wanda intervened, her voice soothing yet tinged with a hint of desperation. “I don't think discussing this will benefit anyone,” she suggested, placing a comforting hand on your back.

“No,” you said, your voice rising. “I want to know.”

Stark turned his gaze away, grappling with the weight of your question and the backlash it could provoke. 

“Tony…” you pressed, your heart pounding in your chest.

After an agonizing pause, he finally spoke, the words barely escaping his lips. “1.3 million.”

You nodded slowly, biting your lower lip. Tears stung at the corners of your eyes, but you fought them back. Instead of allowing yourself to succumb to the grief that threatened to overwhelm you, you pushed yourself up from the couch, always moving, always trying to escape the weight of your reality.

“Y/N, wait!” Wanda called after you, her voice laced with concern as you stormed out of the room.

But Tony placed a steady hand on Wanda’s shoulder. “Let her go,” he advised quietly.

With a final, poignant slam, the front door closed behind you, the sound echoing in the stillness that followed.

*^~^*

You parked the car and gazed somberly at the ruins of your shop, where the once-vibrant façade now lay in ashes. A white condemnation sign hung limply across the front door.

As you exited the car, the still acrid scent of burnt material filled the air, mingling with the faint notes of smoke lingering from the inferno. You ignored the ominous yellow police tape that flapped gently in the breeze. Crossing the threshold into the hollowed shell of the building, your eyes were drawn upward to the gaping hole in the ceiling, its jagged edges framing a glimpse of the gray sky above. Below, the checkered pattern of the tile floor peeked through. It was clear that the restoration company was dragging its feet on the cleanup.

You surveyed the interior, where soot-covered shop fixtures lay scattered like fallen soldiers, and twisted brass shelving displays clung desperately to their last remnants of dignity among the wreckage. You felt nothing; a hollow numbness enveloped your heart. Just as you turned to retreat to your car, something faintly glinted in your peripheral vision. You reached down and unearthed a gold frame partially buried beneath the remnants of your front counter. With trembling hands, you pulled it free and felt a surge of nostalgia wash over you as the picture came into view—the Candy Bar's Opening Day photograph. Your smiling face alongside Harper's radiating joy and hope. Those innocent, carefree smiles of young women fresh out of college stared back at you.

That was the moment everything hit you like a tidal wave. The fire, the confrontation with Harper, your parents, and a relentless week of feigning strength all crashed down. Tears rushed down your cheeks as you surrendered to the pain, sobbing uncontrollably, every emotion spilling over in a flood that felt both devastating and oddly liberating. Slamming the picture onto the floor in frustration, the crash of shattering glass echoed in the room. You gasped, feeling the sharp sting of glass slicing through your palm, a crimson bead of blood trailing down your hand.

“Just perfect,” you whimpered.

Suddenly, you heard a voice. “Oh, Y/N…” 

Startled, you looked up to see Harper standing in the doorway. You didn't hear her come in. She quickly crossed the room, carefully pushing the broken shards aside and pulling you to your feet.

“What are you doing in here? It’s not safe,” Harper said, her tone laced with worry.

“I’m so sorry, Harper,” you cried, collapsing against her shoulder as her warm embrace enveloped you. “I shouldn’t have left it all to you.”

Her grip tightened, her eyes steady as she replied, “No, you shouldn’t.” 

“Everything feels like it’s crumbling, and I don’t know how much more I can take,” you confessed, your voice breaking as fresh tears spilled down your cheeks.

“I get it,” Harper murmured, her breath warm against your ear as she wrapped her arms around you. “I should’ve been more understanding of what you’re going through.”

“Yeah, you probably should,” you replied, matching her candid tone as you dabbed at your tear-streaked cheeks.

With a playful roll of her eyes, she leaned back slightly to meet your gaze. “It’s going to be okay, Y/N. We’ll sort this out together.”

*^~^*

Wanda cradled a cup of coffee as she settled across from Tony at the kitchen island, her brow furrowed with concern. “I’m at a loss, Tony. Her denial has morphed into anxiety, and I can hear her restless nights. She was up baking this morning at 5 a.m.”

Tony took a slow sip, his expression reflective. “She’s tinkering,” he replied. “Trying to drown out the memories. I went through the same thing after New York.”

“What helped you get through it?” Wanda asked.

“Flew down to Tennessee and ended up saving the President with a kid who wouldn’t take no for an answer,” he said, smirking.

Wanda shot him an exasperated look; her eyes glowing red.

“Okay, okay,” Tony backpedaled. “But seriously, it was letting Pepper in that made the difference. I started talking—real talking. To her, to Banner, to anyone willing to listen. Bottling it all up only made the pain worse.”

A soft sigh escaped Wanda's lips, the weight of shared understanding hanging in the air. “I understand.”

“Just keep reaching out to Y/N,” Tony urged gently. “She’ll find her way through this. You both will.”

“Uncle Tony!” Billy exclaimed, interrupting the adult conversation. “Can you help me fix my drone, please?” He held the broken aerial vehicle high, a desperate plea in his eyes. “It was Tommy’s fault!”

“I didn't break it!” Tommy protested, arms crossed defiantly.

“You threw it!” Billy shot back, determination etched on his face.

“I was just trying to catch it before it hit the ground!” Tommy insisted, raising an eyebrow.

“Boys,” Wanda interjected, trying to quell the escalating argument.

Watching the sibling squabble with a smirk, Tony chuckled. “Ah, the joys of brotherhood. Sure, I’ll take a look at it.”

*^~^*

A couple of hours and some clever adjustments later, Tony was in the backyard with the boys, demonstrating how to operate the drone for mission reconnaissance.

You crept back into the house, your heart heavy with regret and embarrassment over how you had stormed out earlier. You found Wanda in the dining room, absorbed in an old family photo album. Leaning in closer, you caught a glimpse of the bittersweet memories captured on the pages—Wanda and Vision, their faces glowing with joy, cradling tiny Billy and Tommy in their arms. The love in their eyes was palpable. As you watched, a fleeting thought flickered through your mind that vanished almost as quickly as it came: Wanda had never looked at you with that same depth of affection.

“There you are!” she said, finally noticing you, jumping up and wrapping her arms around you tightly. “Are you okay? Oh my gosh, what happened to your hand?” Her eyes widened as she noticed the bandage encircling your palm.

“I had a little mishap at the shop,” you confessed, choosing your words carefully. But on the bright side, Harper and I sorted things out. An afternoon in the emergency waiting room gives you plenty of time to talk things through,” you added, trying to lift the mood.

Wanda placed a hand on her forehead, a mixture of relief and worry washing over her. “Sweetheart, we need to talk.”

“I know,” you cut in, your voice trembling slightly. “It’s just... ever since the fire, I feel like I’ve been on some wild roller coaster. I’m sorry for how I've been. I promise I’ll try to calm down, but…” You let your words hang in the air, trailing off into uncertainty.

“Y/N, you don’t need to calm down,” Wanda said firmly, her gaze steady and unwavering. “What you really need is to confront what happened.”

You lowered your gaze, unable to meet Wanda's eyes. 

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of, detka,” she said, gently lifting your chin with her fingers. “I know it’s easier said than done, but I’m right here for you, and so is everyone else. If you’d like to talk to Dr. Raynor again, we can make that happen, too.” 

“Yeah,” you replied quietly, a sense of determination creeping in. “Okay.”

Wanda leaned in, kissed you softly, and then wrapped her arms around you. The fear and anxiety you felt started to melt away. In her arms, you could do anything. 

“I love you,” Wanda said, gently caressing your cheek. “Now, could you please check make sure that Stark isn’t teaching the boys anything illegal.”

You raised an eyebrow in surprise. “Tony is still here?”

Wanda gestured toward the backyard, where Billy and Tommy were jumping up and down, their laughter ringing as Tony sent the drone soaring above their heads like an eagle.

“I got this,” you replied.

As you stepped outside, Tony turned with an empathetic grin on his face. “Hey, Willy Wonka. Welcome back. Are you feeling better?” he asked, his tone shifting to genuine concern.

“Yes,” you replied, relief washing over you. “Thanks for hanging out with Wanda and the boys while I—”

“While you bravely faced off against a piece of glass,” he cut in with a teasing smirk, pointing at your bandaged hand.

You rubbed the back of your neck, heat creeping up your cheeks. “Yeah, not my finest moment.”

“I’m just messing with you,” Tony said, glancing at the boys playing nearby. “I know this situation isn’t easy, but you’ll get through it. We’re going to figure out how to stop your parents.”

“Thanks, Tony. I hope you're right,” you said, flashing a slight smile.

The genius rolled his eyes. “I’m always right. And to that end,” he declared, pulling a slip of paper from his breast pocket and extending it toward you.

“Here’s a start.”

You took the offering, your gaze zeroing in on the check. Your eyes widened as you read the amount.

**Pay to the order of Y/N Y/LN: $500,000.00**

Your voice trembled as you stammered, “Stark, what… what is this? I can’t accept this,” you said, instinctively trying to return the check, but he wouldn’t take it back.

“Consider it an investment,” Tony replied with unwavering confidence. “I see so much of myself in you, Y/N. Your determination, that stubborn spark.” He flicked your bandaged hand playfully. “And like I told a certain know-it-all—a hundred-year-old super soldier—I know what it feels like to grow up thinking your parents are against you instead of having your back.”

You bit your lip, fighting back tears. Without thinking, you stepped forward and enveloped Tony in a warm embrace. “Thank you, Tony.”

He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a warm embrace, his hand giving a gentle pat on your back that radiated comfort. With a soft smile, he said, “You’re welcome. Your parents have no idea who they’re up against.… by the way, I wouldn’t mind a little chocolate kickback when the Candy Bar finally reopens.”

You couldn't help but chuckle, the sound brightening the moment. “You know, they really don’t like you. I recall the term ‘egotistical bastard’ being used during that Board of Directors Meeting.”

"Oh, I can assure you, there is no love lost. That is a delightful bonus of this little investment.” Tony smirked mischievously.

“Lunch is ready, boys!” Wanda called out from the back door as the first delicate snowflakes drifted down from the overcast sky. “Tony, would you like to join us?”

“No, thank you,” Tony replied, a hint of urgency in his tone as he looked at his watch. “I need to get back to the lab before Peter breaks something important.”

“Thanks again, Tony,” you said, holding up the check with disbelief.

“Anytime, Willy Wonka. Catch you later, tiny Maximoffs!” Tony waved goodbye to the boys with a smile before turning to Wanda. “I’ll see you at the team meeting tomorrow.”

Curious, Wanda turned to you as the door closed gently behind Tony. “What was all that about?”

You handed the check to her, and she gasped in shock. “Oh, my God!”

“It’s for rebuilding the shop,” you explained, tears of gratitude in your eyes again.

“This is so generous!” Wanda exclaimed, placing a hand over her heart.

“I know,” you said, emotions washing over you. “I have to call Harper right away!” Without waiting for another moment, you dashed to your bedroom.

“Mom, Y/N is really going to be able to reopen the shop?” Billy asked, his eyes lighting up with hope.

“It looks that way, sweetheart,” Wanda confirmed, handing Billy and Tommy bowls of warm tomato soup alongside crispy grilled cheese sandwiches.

“Sweet!” Tommy shouted. 

The boys burst into an energetic conversation, their imaginations running wild as they envisioned the design of the new Candy Bar. Eagerly exchanging ideas about the candy that should line the shelves, each suggestion sweeter than the last. Wanda simply shook her head in amusement as she plated grilled cheese and soup for both of you.

But then, the world went still for just a second. “Wanda….” 

The ladle she held slipped from her fingers and clattered to the floor, a chill running down her spine. It wasn’t just the house settling this time; someone was calling her name, as clear as day.

Billy and Tommy were oblivious, too engrossed in their discussion. As she bent to pick up the fallen utensil, she felt her hands trembling.

Moments later, you burst back into the room. “Harper couldn’t believe it!” you exclaimed, your face alight with joy.

“That is wonderful, darling,” Wanda said, forcing herself to mask the tumult of fear.

“Honey, you’re shaking,” you noticed, concern flickering across your features. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing! I’m just so happy for you,” she lied, the smile on her face not reaching her eyes.

Leaning in close, you pressed your lips against hers with a tenderness that made time stand still. Pulling back slightly, you let out a soft sigh. "I'll be honest with you; the thought of starting from scratch is scary," you admitted, taking a bite of your lunch.

“Terrifying,” Wanda murmured.

Guardian Angel Taglist: @xxxtwilightaxelxxx@bibliophilicbi@darkstar225 @bigboistakeaway

[sycamorelibrary754]

A Silent Understanding

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Platonic Fem!Reader Fem!Reader x Avengers

Summary: Living next door to Natasha Romanoff makes it difficult to overlook when something is off. During a weekend getaway at the Bartons' farm in Iowa, a revelation about Clint shakes the team. Thankfully, you may be able to help.

Word Count: 5k

Genre: Fluff, light angst.

Warnings: Mentions of hearing loss.

A/N: Sorry for the delay in stories! I started a new job and have been busy. I plan to work on the next chapter of Guardian Angel this weekend. 

It was nothing. Probably. 

Honestly, when it came to Natasha Romanoff, you could never be entirely sure. That ambiguity was just part of her charm. Still, you made a conscious effort not to overanalyze the situation. It wasn't your fault after all. Just because your room conveniently shared a wall with Nat’s didn’t mean you were resigned to being a witness to her nightly escapades. You had heard her slip out of her room repeatedly, always so stealthy that it felt more like a shadow flickering at the corner of your vision than a person making a move. You couldn’t help but wonder where she was going, but you were determined to convince yourself it was likely nothing. Probably.

As you settled down at the communal table for breakfast, you desperately tried to push thoughts of your teammate and friend to the back of your mind. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee, mingling with the smell of vanilla, filled the air as Wanda took it upon herself to prepare breakfast for the team. The sight of her expertly flipping pancakes, her red hair cascading over her shoulders as she hummed a soft tune, brought a sense of warmth to the morning.

“Could you pass the butter, Clint?” Tony asked from across the table. 

Clint didn’t respond; he didn’t even look up from his plate of pancakes. 

“Yo, Robin Hood,” Tony called louder, pointing at the butter dish. 

Kate nudged Clint, causing him to look up from his plate. 

“Ooh, sorry,” the archer said as he passed the butter. 

You couldn’t help but notice how Natasha’s gaze lingered on him, a blend of empathy and concern in her eyes.

Clint shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his fingers drumming nervously against the table. He cleared his throat, eager to redirect the conversation. “So,” he began, glancing around the room as he spoke, “Laura and I thought it might be nice to escape the chaos. How would you all feel about joining us for a little getaway in Iowa this weekend? You can bring the kids, too.”

“That sounds nice, Clint. Consider your invitation accepted,” Steve said as he sliced into his pancakes. 

Wanda's face softens, a warm smile spreading across her face. "That’s so kind of you to invite us. The boys would love to spend time with Laura and the kids. And I... I could use a break from everything."

Tony raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement on his face. "Iowa? What's the plan, Barton? Cornfield sightseeing?”

Pepper pinched Tony’s arm as he shrieked. “We would love to, Clint. Thank you for inviting us.”

Tony rubbed his arm. “I'm in, but only if a high-tech farm equipment expo is involved."

Thor grinned enthusiastically as he bit into a slice of crispy bacon. "A getaway, you say? Verily, I am in!“

"Bruce looked up from his plate, a hint of interest on his face, “Iowa, that sounds nice. Peaceful.”

Yelena raises an eyebrow, her expression a mix of curiosity and amusement. "Iowa. Aside from freezing to death in the middle of nowhere, what's there to do?" She smirked, leaning back in her chair with a glass of orange juice. "Still, it could be... entertaining. Count me in, Barton. But don't expect me to go all rustic and start milking cows."

“You’re going to love it, Yelena,” Kate replied as she poured herself another cup of coffee. “The Barton’s farmhouse is like something straight out of a John Steinbeck novel.”

“Steinbeck was one of my favorite authors,” Bucky said, a hint of nostalgia in his voice as he drizzled rich, golden maple syrup over fluffy pancakes, the sweet aroma wafting through the air. “I’ve read Grapes of Wrath three times.”

“I’ve always had a soft spot for East of Eden,” Steve remarked, a wistful spark igniting his eyes as he remembered the book.

“How very James Dean of you,” Bucky kidded, leaving Steve looking momentarily puzzled, his brow furrowing as he processed the reference.

“Who’s James Dean?” Steve asked, leaning in with intrigue painted all over his face.

“Just add it to the list; we’ll watch it while we’re in Iowa,” Sam murmured, almost to himself.

“It’s a movie? I’m lost,” Steve replied, furrowing his brow in confusion.

“Hey, Grandpas focus!” you shouted, shaking your head. Turning your attention to Clint, you added, “It sounds great. I think a little country getaway would just be what we need.”

Clint nodded in agreement before digging into his towering stack of pancakes. The kitchen fell back into silence, broken only by the soft sounds of forks clinking and plates being passed.

Meanwhile, your gaze wandered back to Natasha, uncharacteristically a silent observer. She never resisted the allure of a getaway with the Bartons’. Usually, she’d be the first to jump at an invitation like this.

“You’re coming too, right, Nat?” you inquired, arching an eyebrow in her direction, hoping to coax her into the camaraderie that filled the room.

“What?” she replied, momentarily pulled from her thoughts. A practiced smile crossed her lips but didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Oh yeah, I’ll be there,” she assured, though a flicker of uncertainty lingered in her expression.

*^~^*

The following day, the team boarded the Quinjet with bags in tow. You had heard Natasha stirring in the night again; curiosity tugged at you, but fatigue held you back from snooping on her.

It was nothing. Probably.

The flight to Iowa felt like it zipped by in an instant, but perhaps that was because your thoughts were consumed by trying to decode the enigma of Natasha Romanoff. 

As soon as the jet’s ramp thudded against the ground, Nate dashed forward, excitement radiating from him as he lunged into Clint’s arms. 

“Hey, buddy! How are you?” Clint exclaimed, crouching to embrace his youngest son, his smile broad and warm.

“Great! I missed you! Can we play football?” Nate asked, bouncing on his toes, his eagerness infectious.

Clint glanced at Kate, a playful smirk creeping onto his face as she mimed throwing a football. It was a subtle gesture, but it didn’t escape your notice.

“Absolutely, kiddo. How about we round up some tag-a-longs to join us later?” Clint suggested, chuckling as he looked at the group.

As you stepped into the charming farmhouse, the delightful aroma of freshly baked cookies enveloped you like a warm hug. Laura was pulling another tray from the oven, her face alight with joy as she spotted the group pouring in through the front door.

“Welcome, everyone! We’re thrilled to have you all here for the weekend!” she exclaimed. “With so many of you, a few will need to share the spare rooms, but trust me, it’ll be worth it.”

“I call dibs on the big room!” you proclaimed, charging toward the staircase as if it were a child bolting for the last cookie in the jar.

“Oh, hell no!” Sam bellowed, his footsteps reverberating behind you, a blend of urgency and determination in his voice as Bucky swiftly trailed right behind him.

Before you could ascend another step, Sam's strong arms wrapped around your waist from behind, holding you in place with surprising strength. At the same time, Bucky swooped in, effortlessly tossing you over his shoulder as if you weighed nothing, the world below flipping upside down.

“Put me down, Barnes!” you yelped, laughter and frustration bubbling.

“Not a chance,” Bucky replied, his voice playfully firm. “Not until you agree to let me and Sam have the big room!”

“Never!” you shot back, squirming in Bucky's grasp. A grin breaks through your annoyance.

Ever the opportunist, Tony snagged a couple of freshly baked cookies from the table. He tossed one to Morgan, his laughter mingling with the chaos.

“This is going well,” Yelena said to Kate, her expression perfectly flat, as if she were declaring the weather.

Just then, a luminous swirl of shimmering red magic enveloped you, and in an instant. With a gentle touch, Wanda set you back on your feet.

“Thanks, Wanda,” you said appreciatively, straightening out your rumpled clothes, attempting to regain some semblance of composure.

“I’ll room with Y/N,” Natasha declared suddenly, her voice cutting through the chatter and catching everyone off guard, shifting the energy in the room from spirited chaos to surprised interest.

“Are you sure?” you asked, a mix of surprise and curiosity coloring your tone, given her recent late-night excursions that you definitely weren't still thinking about. 

“Absolutely. We can crash in my room,” she insisted, her demeanor confident as she effortlessly lifted both your bags and her own as if they were made of clouds.

“You have a room here?” you inquired, raising an eyebrow in intrigue.

“I insisted,” she replied with a teasing smirk, her sly glance toward Clint speaking volumes as he rolled his eyes in response.

Leaning closer, Natasha lowered her voice conspiratorially, “Besides, trust me, you don’t want that room anyway. It’s right above the chicken coop; you’ll be jolted awake by the clucking at 5 a.m.”

“Good to know,” you replied with a smile.

*^~^*

In the evening, everyone gathered on the front lawn to make good on Clint’s promise to Nate to play football. It may have been a friendly game, but you all took the competition seriously—probably too seriously—so you kept score, despite Laura and Pepper’s desire to keep it fun and friendly for the kids. 

“Alright,” Tony said, gripping the pigskin tightly. “We’re down by three, so it's time to push for the end zone. Play action. Belova, I need you to slip out to the flat; Thor, you’re stretching your Godly legs with a go route towards that old tire swing. Y/N, swing back with a button hook to midfield, and Clint, you’ll take a sharp post route to the left. On my signal—break!”

You lined up at the line of scrimmage as Natasha squared off opposite you. When Tony shouted, “Hike!” you took a quick stutter-step, trying to juke the redhead, but she was relentless, shadowing every move. Steve had Thor tightly covered in the end zone on the other end of the field while Yelena struggled to shake off Kate in the flat.

Tony worked through his reads, his eyes locked on Clint. Just as Clint broke free, he launched the ball toward the corner of the end zone—a perfect spiral you all held your breath for, expecting it to land flawlessly in the Archer’s hands. But instead, Clint was nowhere near the ball. In a flash, Wanda snatched it out of the air like a hawk. 

Bucky and Sam triumphantly hoisted the witch onto their shoulders, and Billy and Tommy burst into exuberant cheers. Their faces lit up with joy as they raced toward their mom, arms outstretched.

“Barton, what the hell? I said a post to the left!” Tony shouted, frustration bubbling over.

Clint, looking sheepish, rubbed the back of his neck and sank onto the grass. “Sorry, my bad.”

“Are you deaf or just ignoring me?” Stark didn’t relent.

“Let it go, Tony. We’re just here to have fun, remember?” Steve interjected, trying to mediate the brewing tension.

With a dramatic sigh, Tony rolled his eyes and went to the porch, where Pepper and Morgan were sipping cold glasses of homemade lemonade.

You glanced back at Clint, catching the fleeting embarrassment creeping across his face as Natasha rushed over to help him back on his feet. They exchanged a few words, the tension palpable before Clint turned and headed towards the barn, shoulders slightly hunched.

"Hey, is he alright?" you asked Natasha, concern lacing your voice.

"Yeah, he’s just worn out..." she said, her voice fading into silence like a thought left hanging in the air. She absentmindedly played with her arrow necklace, its delicate charm twinkling in the light as if mirroring her unease.

You sensed the fib beneath her casual tone; Natasha Romanoff wasn’t one to lie lightly. The realization shot a jolt of fear through you—she only masked the truth when something was seriously wrong. Just as you opened your mouth to dig deeper, Lila whisked Natasha away, leaving you to wrestle with the growing unease churning in your stomach.

It was nothing. Probably. 

*^~^*

“Twenty-three, twenty-four, twenty-five,” Natasha called out, her voice steady as she easily powered through each pull-up.

You eyed her as you crawled under the covers. “You seriously installed a pull-up bar in the Bartons’ house?”

Natasha dropped down from the bar, her biceps flexing and glistening from the effort. “Got to fit in the workout where I can.”

With a roll of your eyes, you replied, “We’re supposed to be on vacation, remember?”

She smirked a glint of determination in her eyes. “No rest for the weary.”

You couldn’t help but mutter, “More like no rest for you, ever.”

“What was that?” Natasha asked, her expression curious as she climbed into bed beside you.

You shrugged it off, “Nothing, nothing. Let’s get some sleep.”

*^~^*

You knew that a second glass of lemonade was a mistake. As you slowly sat up in bed, a shiver traced down your spine when your bare feet met the cool floor. Carefully, you slipped out of bed, the faint creaking of the floorboards accentuating the quiet of the night. 

After a quick trip to the bathroom, you were confounded but not entirely surprised to find the bed empty. With curiosity stirring in your chest, you tiptoed downstairs, the dim glow of a small lamp guiding your way. There she was—Natasha—seated at the kitchen table, bathed in soft light, papers sprawled around her like a chaotic landscape.

“Nat?” you called softly, trying not to startle her.

She jumped slightly, her eyes widening with surprise—a rare departure from her usual calm demeanor. “Y/N, what are you doing awake?” 

“Just went to the bathroom,” you replied, tilting your head. “What about you?”

“Nothing important, just sorting through some mission reports,” she replied, a hint of urgency in her voice as she hurriedly collected the papers, a few slipping from her grasp and fluttering to the floor.

“Let me help,” you offered instinctively, reaching down for the scattered pages.

“Really, it’s not necessary; we should both get back to bed,” she insisted, but you were already focused on the papers in your hands.

Your brow furrowed as you picked up one of the scattered papers and read the title embossed at the top: “American Sign Language for Beginners.” 

“Natasha, what is all this?” you asked, peering over the edges of several documents strewn across the floor. 

She sighed, the sound echoing defeat as she gave up the pretense. “I’m learning sign language. Or at least, I’m trying my best,” Natasha admitted, her voice tinged with frustration as her fingers brushed over the pages, collecting them awkwardly.

“Why are you learning sign language?” you inquired, curiosity piqued as you watched her shuffle the papers into a neat stack.

“For Clint,” she replied softly, her gaze suddenly fixed on the ground. She sank back into her chair, her posture sulking as she avoided making eye contact with you.

“Clint? Why would Clint need to know…” your voice trailed off, the realization dawning on you like a heavy cloud. You felt a knot tighten in your stomach as the implications sunk in.

Instinctively, you pulled out the chair across from Natasha, the wooden legs scraping against the floor as you sat down, your mind racing with questions.

How long?” you asked softly, your tone coaxing her to open up.

Natasha paused for a moment, clearly burdened by her thoughts. Your heart ached as you noticed her attempt to wipe away a tear subtly.

After a few moments of silence, she finally responded, her voice barely above a whisper, as if she were sharing a secret too heavy to carry. “It's been a few months now,” she admitted, her eyes cast down, tracing an invisible pattern on the floor. “Clint’s hearing has been deteriorating significantly.” she confided.

“Okay, it's something," you murmured, glancing away.

Natasha furrowed her brow. "What are you talking about?

“Nothing.” You exhaled deeply, running your hands over your face in a futile attempt to shake off the dismal reality of what you were hearing. “Does anyone else know about this?” you asked, your voice tinged with concern.

“Just his family and Kate,” she replied, her voice wavering slightly. “He was planning to tell the team tomorrow—that’s why he invited everyone down here,” Natasha continued. “Laura and the kids are learning sign language. I wanted to be supportive, but honestly, it’s harder than I thought.”

“Is that what you’ve been sneaking out for every night?” you pressed genuine curiosity in your voice.

“Yes, I guess I’m not as quiet as I thought,” Natasha admitted as she ran a hand through her tousled red hair.

“Not when we share a wall,” you shot back playfully, trying to lighten the mood.

She rubbed her bleary eyes, a mix of exhaustion and resolve in them. “It’s my only free time, and I didn’t want anyone else to find out before Clint was ready to share. He deserves that much.” 

“He does,” you replied, your tone serious as you exchanged a knowing glance with Natasha. The weight of the conversation hung in the air, creating a moment of solemnity between you. “Now, as far as ASL goes, I might be able to lend a hand.”

Natasha tilted her head slightly, a look of confusion crossing her features. “What do you mean?”

You offered a small smile. “I taught myself sign language during the pandemic,” you explained, a hint of pride in your voice.

Her eyes widened in disbelief. “You what? Seriously?”

You nodded. “I’ve always wanted to learn, and when we finally found ourselves with extra time at home, I came across an incredible teacher on YouTube. It became a sort of passion project for me.”

Natasha leaned in, intrigued but still processing. “You’re kidding? So that’s what you did in your room all those hours?”

You couldn’t help but grin at the thought. You began to demonstrate, your hands moving gracefully, the language flowing from you naturally like a melody.

Her curiosity piqued, and Natasha squinted slightly. “What does that mean?”

“I never kid,” you replied with sincerity. “But I love Clint, and I would be more than happy to teach you ASL.”

Natasha paused, staring at you with a mix of surprise and disbelief. You held your breath, unsure whether she was processing what you had just offered or if it was simply too much to take in. Suddenly, she sprang to her feet, and before you could utter a single word, she enveloped you in a warm embrace, her arms wrapping tightly around you as if she never wanted to let go.

*^~^*

As the sun rose on Sunday morning, its golden rays illuminated the Bartons’ farm, casting a warm glow over the bustling activities that filled the property. Brimming with enthusiasm, Cooper led Wanda, Billy, Tommy, and Morgan to the stables, where their trusty horses awaited. The scent of hay and the soft whinnies of the horses set the stage for a delightful morning of horseback riding as they explored the scenic trails that wound through the lush fields.

Meanwhile, Pepper and Tony ventured into town for a leisurely day of antiquing, though Tony's face hinted at his reluctance. He trudged along, trying to mask his impatience with humorous quips, while Pepper eagerly examined each shop window, her eyes sparkling with excitement at the prospect of uncovering vintage treasures.

At the farm, Steve, Bucky, Sam, and Thor donned their work gloves, rolling up their sleeves to help Laura with chores that needed tending to. From mucking out the stables to tending to the garden, their camaraderie shone through as they shared laughter and stories amidst the rhythmic sounds of farm life.

Yelena and Kate whisked Lila off for a fun-filled shopping trip not far away. Their chatter and laughter blended with rustling bags as they browsed through colorful boutiques and quaint shops. 

In a quieter corner of the farm, Bruce found solace in nature. His favorite book was cradled in one hand as he meandered through the vibrant woods, absorbing the peace and serenity surrounding him.

Out in the field, Clint and Nate had turned an ordinary afternoon into an impromptu baseball practice, their shouts of joy ringing out as they tossed the ball back and forth. 

Meanwhile, you and Natasha hid out in her room, the soft afternoon light filtering through the curtains and casting gentle shadows on the floor. You sat close to her on the carpet, surrounded by a carefully arranged stack of papers and your laptop, which glowed invitingly with images and information.

“Alright, Nat,” you said, your voice steady and encouraging. “We’re going to start with the alphabet. Just like any language, it lays the groundwork for everything else.”

Natasha nodded, her striking green eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that spoke volumes about her commitment. “Okay, I’m ready.”

With a sense of purpose, you began to illustrate each letter, your fingers dancing gracefully through the signs, meticulous and fluid. 

“A,” you announced, forming the letter slowly with your fingers, ensuring she could catch every nuance. “B… C…”

Natasha watched intently, her expression serious as she mirrored your movements. You noticed the slight furrow of her brows as she concentrated, her mind absorbing the information like a sponge. The determination in her eyes was palpable as she navigated through the alphabet.

After you had guided her through each letter, you paused, allowing a smile to break across your face. “Great job, Nat. You’re picking this up fast.”

A hint of pride flickered in her smile. “Thanks. What’s next?”

“Now, we’ll move on to some basic phrases,” you said, turning your attention to the screen of your laptop where the phrases waited patiently. “These will help you communicate with Clint more effectively.”

You began with simple greetings, demonstrating each sign with care. “Hello,” you signed, your hand moving in a friendly wave infused with warmth.

Natasha practiced the sign, her hands imitating yours until it felt instinctive. “Hello,” she echoed, her voice soft yet infused with newfound confidence.

“Good morning,” you continued, demonstrating the sign while your thoughts lingered on the connection this would foster between her and Clint.

“Good morning,” Natasha responded, her hands moving with precision, an eagerness blooming in her gestures.

“Well done. Another crucial element to consider is your eyebrows. They also play a significant role in conveying intent,” you elaborated, gesturing with your hands to emphasize your point.

Natasha raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk dancing on her lips as she wiggled her eyebrows exaggeratedly at you. “I’ve always found that to be true,” she replied, amusement glinting in her eyes.

You rolled your eyes in mock exasperation and gave her a gentle nudge, both of you sharing a lighthearted moment. “In American Sign Language, eyebrow positioning serves as a form of facial punctuation,” you continued, your tone shifting to an educational one. “For example, raised eyebrows can indicate yes or no questions, while lowered eyebrows signal 'wh' questions: who, what, where, when, why, and how.”

As the lesson unfolded, you introduced more practical phrases. “How are you?” “Where is the bathroom?” “Do you need help?” Natasha intently absorbed each new sign, her unwavering focus visible in the slight tilt of her head and the determination etched on her face. You could see how deeply she wanted to support Clint, a silent vow manifesting in every movement.

Hours slipped by unnoticed, and as the sun dipped beneath the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink, you pushed forward, guiding Natasha through more complex sentences and concepts. By the time the lesson drew close, she exuded a sense of proficiency in the basic signs, her confidence palpable.

“Thank you,” Natasha said, her voice rich with gratitude, her eyes glimmering with sincerity. “This means a lot to me… and I know it will to Clint.”

*^~^*

“Hey, you two. Where have you been hiding all day?” Steve called out as you finally hopped off the last step of the stairs.

“Oh, you know... just watching a Bond movie,” you replied, furrowing your brow as you spoke, unsure if the excuse was convincing.

“Come on, you’re a terrible liar, Y/N,” Tony shot back, a smirk creeping onto his lips.

Suddenly, Sam snapped his fingers with dramatic flair. “They hooked up!” he declared, eyes wide with amusement.

“Ow!” he yelped a moment later as Natasha playfully slapped him on the back of the head. “We did not!” she retorted.

Fortunately, just before you and Natasha faced further questioning, Laura announced that dinner was ready. A comforting dinner inspired by the flavors of Iowa graced the table, showcasing tender port tenderloin sandwiches. Each sandwich featured perfectly seared pork, expertly seasoned and grilled to achieve a crispy golden crust on the outside while remaining succulent and flavorful within. Accompanying this hearty main dish were creamy mashed potatoes, whipped to a velvety smooth texture with a touch of butter and a hint of garlic, providing the perfect comfort food contrast. A vibrant side of steamed vegetables sourced fresh from the local farmer's market rounded out the plate with a pop of color.

After dinner came your favorite part of any meal: dessert. A luscious chocolate-peanut butter pie adorned with a generous dollop of whipped cream and delicate chocolate shavings stole the show. You couldn’t help but fantasize about devouring the whole thing yourself. 

“Kudos, Mrs. Hawkeye! That meal was nothing short of spectacular,” Tony exclaimed, a gleam in his eye. “You could give Pepper a run for her money in the kitchen. Fuck!” He yelped as Pepper pinched his arm once more. “Seriously, could you not do that?” 

“Daddy said a bad word!” Morgan piped up, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “That means he has to put a dollar in the swear jar!” 

“She's got you there, Tony,” Pepper smirked, giving her husband a playful look. 

Clint scanned the room, a deep breath escaping his lips, knowing this was the right time. He turned to the kids. “Hey, Nate, why don’t you take Billy, Tommy, and Morgan to see your action-figure collection?” 

“Ooh, yeah! I’ve got action figures of all our moms and dads!” Nate exclaimed as he led the trio toward his room.

Clint rose to his feet, the weight of his revelation etched across his somber face. His teammates, a family forged through countless battles, fell silent as their eyes locked onto him. "I need to share something important with all of you," he began, his voice steady but tinged with deep emotion. He took a breath, gathering his thoughts. "I’m not quite sure how to approach this, so I’ll just put it out there: I'm losing my hearing.

A palpable hush enveloped the room as each person absorbed his words, the reality settling like a heavy mist.

“It’s been getting worse for a while,” Clint continued, his voice wavering as he fought back tears. “I’ve tried to push through it, but…”

Laura, ever supportive, stood and took his hand, grounding him. 

Steve broke the silence first. "Clint, we’re with you through this, no matter what. You're part of this team, and we’ll find ways to adapt together."

Tony leaned back, a thoughtful frown on his face. "We can develop some tech to help. Hearing aids, custom communication devices—whatever it takes, we’ve got your back."

Bruce added with a comforting smile, "Science has made great strides. We can explore medical options and treatments, too."

Sam nodded earnestly. "You’re not in this alone. We’ll tackle this together."

“Listen,” Bucky chimed in, his usual bluntness shining through. “You’ve faced worse challenges. This won’t hold you back.”

Wanda's empathetic gaze landed on Clint. "Exactly. We’ll discover new ways to communicate. You’re irreplaceable."

“Laura, Kate, and the kids have started learning ASL,” Clint shared a hint of pride in his voice.

“Me too,” Natasha interjected, a smirk creeping onto her lips as all eyes turned toward her. “Y/N has been teaching me.”

“Since when do you know sign language?” Sam asked, clearly impressed.

“Since the pandemic,” you replied matter-of-factly.

“Seriously?” Yelena raised an eyebrow, intrigue brimming in her voice. "That's so cool!"

“Wait, is that what you were doing locked away in your room for hours?” Sam quipped.

“Yeah, what did you think I was doing?” you shot back playfully.

“Pay up!” Bucky suddenly shouted as Sam begrudgingly handed him a fifty-dollar bill.

“Honestly, I don’t even want to know,” you said, waving them off with an eye roll.

“Can you teach all of us ASL, Y/N?” Steve asked, genuine enthusiasm lighting up his eyes.

“Absolutely,” you said enthusiastically. “I can put together some lesson plans when we get home.”

“Y/N is an great teacher,” Natasha remarked, her hands flowing gracefully through the air as she skillfully demonstrated a series of signs you had taught her earlier.

“What does that mean?” Bucky asked, genuinely curious.

“We love you, Clint,” Clint managed to say, clearing his throat as emotion threatened to spill over.

Thor boomed with conviction, "A warrior’s strength isn’t found solely in their senses. Your heart and skills are what truly make you formidable, Clint."

Kate squeezed Clint's hand, her voice unwavering. "We’re here for you. Whatever you need, we’ll face it together."

The room buzzed with a profound sense of unity and determination. Clint's heart flooded with gratitude as he looked around at his teammates, their unwavering support shining brightly. "Thank you, everyone."

As the conversation continued with energy, ideas ignited, and plans began to take shape, the group rallied around Clint, united and determined to tackle this new challenge just as they always had—together.

Amid the lively exchanges, your gaze locked with Natasha’s. She smiled as she silently mouthed, “Thank you.” 

You responded in kind, returning the gesture with a subtle, “You’re welcome.”

[sycamorelibrary754]

Reblog this if you’re looking for more Yelena mutuals!!

Gonna round you up like infinity stones.

[sycamorelibrary754]

May I request, angst (tiny) with fluff with Yelena?

Reader & yelena have been struggling with trying to find time for one another, Yelena doing her think with tracking down the other widows to free them, reader constantly at the compound training, or training new members etc

& when Yelena has found & free’d the last widow, she books a vacation and is able to trick reader into “a mission” but it’s just Yelena whisking reader away to a cabin in the woods or snowy mountains for some time away from general life?

Up to you what you do with this ofc, feel free to add anything, remove anything. You’ve got total control & freedom 🥰 & up to you if reader is fem or gn! I don’t mind

Aloha 🌺

Pairing: Yelena Belova x Fem!Reader

Summary: Lately, you and Yelena have faced an uphill battle trying to carve out quality time together. While she tirelessly hunts down the remaining widows to set them free, you find yourself at the compound, immersed in training recruits, the hours slipping away in a blur. But after Yelena’s relentless efforts culminate in rescuing the last widow, it’s time for a well-deserved break. The blonde set her sights on a surprise tropical getaway for the two of you, eager to whisk you away from the chaos and into the sun-soaked paradise you’ve been dreaming about.

Word Count: 5.6k

Genre: Fluff with light angst.

Warnings: None

A/N: This was so much fun to write! 

You trudged into the compound kitchen after the third recruit training session of the day, looking for the Advil. When Maria suggested you take the lead on training the latest recruits, you didn't know they would give you such a headache. Rifling through the cupboards, you sighed as you came up empty. 

“Looking for this, Agent Y/L/N?” Nat smirked, calling you by the title used by the recruits as she tossed you the bottle.

“Yes! Thank you,” you replied, catching it like a maraca. “I swear, if one more person calls me Agent Y/L/N today, I'm going to break their arm,” you grumbled as you downed a couple of pills with a glass of water. 

“Recruit training going that well, huh?” She asked, a sly smile crossing her face as she poured herself a protein shake. 

“They get an A for effort,” you replied, resting your chin in your hand. 

“But,” Natasha raised an eyebrow, sensing there was more to the story. 

“But they’re incredibly slow and unprofessional,” you admitted with a sigh.

“They’ll come around eventually; give them time,” Natasha said, her tone reassuring. “They’re just a bit green.”

You couldn't help but smirk. “Yeah, and so was Bruce, but we don’t hold that against him,” you teased.

Natasha chuckled. “Touché. Speaking of coming around, I spoke with Yelena earlier,” she said, her expression shifting to something softer.

Your heart sank a little at her words. “She’s not coming home tonight, is she?” you asked, already knowing the answer but hoping for a different one.

Nat sighed, fingers threading through her vibrant red hair, glimmering faintly under the soft light. “This is our last widow,” she said, her voice tinged with frustration. “She’s vanished off the grid in Japan. It’s just going take Yelena longer than initially anticipated to track her down.”

You tapped your fingers against the counter in acknowledgment, your gaze drifting away from Natasha’s earnest eyes. 

“Y/N…” she began softly, but you cut her off.

“Hey, that’s how things go,” you said, forcing a small, brave smile. “Thanks for letting me know, Nat.” Touching her shoulder as you moved past toward your room.

*^~^*

After a long and arduous week spent navigating the dense, mystical Yakushima forest in search of her widow, Yelena finally found a moment to reach out to you. With a heavy heart, she began her journey back to the bustling city of Tokyo, feeling the weight of the failed search. 

Once she had returned to an area with cell service, she eagerly tapped your icon on her phone and listened intently as the line connected. However, her call ringing echoed in silence, drowned out by the chaos of recruits sparring nearby. Their shouts and the clashing sounds of training gear filled the air, preventing you from hearing her call. Frustrated, she watched the call go to voicemail, her heart sinking.

“Hey, baby. It’s me,” she began, her voice soft yet laced with longing as she shifted the phone from one ear to another, trying to block out the noise around her. “I miss you so much.” She took a moment, her thoughts lingering on you. “I hope the recruits aren’t driving you mad with their antics. I can’t believe I'm still not home and counting the days until I can see you again. I promise I’ll make this up to you somehow. I love you. Bye for now.” 

“Good job today, everyone,” you announced as the training session wrapped up. “Just a quick reminder—our team-based combat simulations start tomorrow. Also, Ramirez and Williams, let’s focus on sharpening your accuracy with marksmanship next time. Keep up the good work. Dismissed!”

As the last recruit exited the gym, you caught your breath before reaching for your phone. With a slight furrow in your brow, you noticed Yelena's notification, and your heart ached in anticipation. Pressing play on the missed voicemail, you were immediately enveloped by the weight of her sorrowful tone. It was clear that Yelena felt an overwhelming sense of responsibility—a fierce conviction that she alone must be the one to liberate the widows now that the oppressive reign of Dreykov and the Red Room had crumbled away. With each passing moment, the urgency grew—she was down to the last of thousands of girls, and failure was not an option. You knew that Yelena would stop at nothing to find her. Yet, beneath her strong exterior, you recognized the isolation this pursuit inflicted upon her.

Frustration gnawed at you as you tried to reach Yelena again, only to be met with silence. “Damn it,” you muttered under your breath. In a moment of hope, you decided to fire off a text instead.

Y/N: Hey love, I’m sorry for missing your call. The recruits are a handful; it feels like herding cats, but we’re making some headway. I miss you more than words can say. 

With a sigh, you tucked your phone into the back pocket of your tactical suit and headed back to your room. The evening loomed ahead, filled with recruit evaluations and the bittersweet company of the television.

*^~^*

Maria leaned back in her chair, tapping her pen against the desk as she looked at you expectantly. “So, if we stick to the current schedule, we should be able to kick off our final recruit evaluations by the 24th. What do you think, Y/N?” 

You didn’t respond, caught in your thoughts, and Maria could feel the distance between you. With a gentle sigh, she set aside the training files and approached the front of her desk, concern etched on her face. “Y/N? Are you still with me?”

Startled, you blinked, realizing you’d zoned out. “Oh, I’m sorry,” you replied, forcing a smile. “Yeah, that sounds good.”

Maria’s gaze softened as she noticed the shadows lingering under your eyes and the weight of sadness on your face. “I know it’s been tough with Yelena away for so long,” she said softly.

You shifted uncomfortably, desperate to divert the conversation. “So, uh, is Cap planning to come watch training this week?”

“Y/N,” Maria said gently, “when did you last speak to her?”

A heavy sigh escaped your lips. “Honestly, I can’t even remember. It feels like we keep missing each other, just playing an endless game of phone tag.”

The brunette nodded, her mind sorting through her mental Rolodex of contacts. “I hope you get the chance to speak with her soon. In the meantime, I think we’re good to go for now. I’ll let you know when Steve is ready to deliver his infamous responsibility lecture,” she added, emphasizing the last words with playful air quotes.

As you stood up, a smirk crossed your face, reminiscing about the time you endured that lecture as a fresh recruit. “Does that talk still come with the same warning about bad language words?” you teased.

“Sadly, yes,” Maria replied with a resigned laugh.

“Maybe it’s time for a swear jar policy,” you suggested with a chuckle, imagining the overflowing jar as you headed out the door.

Maria waited until you closed the door and were out of earshot before making a move. “FRIDAY, get the Public Security Intelligence Agency of Japan on the line, please.” 

*^~^*

Yelena pulled open the heavy stainless steel fridge door in the dimly lit safehouse, a familiar ritual that had begun to feel daunting. Despite Stark's wealth, the sparse shelves inside the fridge always surprised her. The cold air spilled into the room as she scanned the meager contents—scattered remnants of unappealing leftovers and a bottle of mustard. With a resigned sigh, she assembled a makeshift meal from the paltry offerings, knowing it would hardly rival a warm bowl of macaroni and cheese, but it would have to suffice for now.

As she settled into her dinner routine, a sharp knock echoed through the silence, sending a shiver down her spine. Instinctively, she set her fork aside and reached for her gun on the counter. Her dominant hand gripped the weapon firmly while her off hand steadied a small flashlight, its beam cutting through the shadows. She crouched, illuminating the floor to reveal dark silhouettes of feet lurking just outside the door.

Peering through the peephole, Yelena saw a Japanese military officer, his beard framing a serious expression. “Who is it?” she called out, her voice steady and commanding.

“Colonel Akira Matsumoto,” he replied, formal yet respectful.

With a cautious glance, Yelena lowered her weapon and slowly opened the door, her instincts still on high alert. Colonel Matsumoto performed a deep bow, a gesture of respect and peace.

Yet, years of training had taught her to be wary. “What do you want? Who sent you?” she pressed, her eyes narrowing.

“The Public Security Intelligence Agency was contacted by Agent Maria Hill,” he explained, his demeanor serious as he extended a file folder toward her. “She said you would need this.” With a crisp salute, he stepped back, his presence retreating into the shadows of the corridor.

Yelena hesitated momentarily, her gaze flickering between the officer’s retreating figure and the file now resting in her hands.

She glanced around the dimly lit hall before firmly shutting the door behind her, the soft click echoing in the stillness. She moved to the couch, its fabric cool against her skin as she sank into the cushions.

With a deep breath, she opened the file, letting its contents spill across the cluttered coffee table—a jumble of papers, photographs, and notes that painted a chaotic picture of her missing widow. Each page chronicled past encounters, recent sightings, and a promising lead about where she was headed. “What the hell?” She muttered, surprise washing over her.

A sudden ping from her burner phone shattered her thought, jarring her back to the present. She glanced at the screen, her heart heavy as she read the message. 

Maria: Find your last widow and come home. Y/N needs you. 

*^~^*

A few days later, you gathered the recruits early in the morning, the sun just beginning to rise over the horizon, casting a warm glow across the sprawling grounds of the Avengers Compound. You noticed the mix of excitement and nervousness on their faces. With a rallying shout, you motioned for them to line up. After a quick warm-up to loosen their muscles, you led them at a brisk pace through the lush greenery surrounding the compound. 

As you ran, you encouraged them to keep pace, pointing out various landmarks along the way—the state-of-the-art training facilities, the high-tech labs, and the impressive hangars where advanced equipment was stored. The fresh morning air filled your lungs; with each step, you felt the camaraderie building among the group. You could hear their footsteps thumping against the gravel path, the sound of determination echoing in the stillness of the morning.

As you rounded the south side of the complex, suddenly, the sharp sound of a grappling hook striking the concrete facade echoed through the grounds. From the rooftop above, a figure suddenly emerged—initially a blur, but soon recognizable by her striking short blonde hair. Your eyes widened in surprise. The recruits stumbled to a halt behind you. With a fluid leap, Yelena landed smoothly on the ground, her boots barely sounding on the compound's terrain. Her eyes lock onto you, and a hint of a smile plays on her lips.

"Welcome back," you said, trying to sound professional in front of the recruits despite your shockk and the desire to jump into her arms.

Yelena strode confidently towards you, her long coat billowing behind her. "It's good to be back," she replied, her voice low and smooth. "I see you're keeping busy.” As the blonde approached confidently, her sharp gaze swept over the recruits, a playful smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "So, this is the new lineup? How are they faring?" 

With a mischievous grin, you responded, "You know the routine—if luck’s on our side, we might have a couple who rise to the occasion by the end of training."

You caught a fleeting glimpse of uncertainty in their eyes but then opted to lighten the mood. Glancing at your watch, you announced, “Alright, let’s hit pause for a moment. Everyone, take ten.”

As soon as the recruits disappeared from view, Yelena intertwined her fingers with yours. The cool touch of her rings sends a chill down your back. The distant sounds of training faded into a hush. She guided you behind a nearby lab. In an instant, Yelena pulled you close, her breath warm against your skin. Suddenly, your lips met hers, igniting a spark of hurried passion, as if the world around you had faded away, leaving only the two of you in that stolen moment.

Gasping for breath between heated kisses, you teased, “You realize you could have just used the front gate, right?” 

“Ah, but where’s the thrill in that?” Yelena replied with a playful grin, pulling you closer.

“I take it you finally tracked down your last widow?” you inquired, curiosity peeked.

“I did, in the Shinjuku district. All thanks to Hill,” she replied before leaning in to place another tender kiss on your lips.

“Aww, what do we have here?” a voice sliced through the air, interrupting your moment with Yelena.

Both of you spun around, scanning the area for the source. 

“Up here, ladies!” The voice called playfully. 

You looked up to see Red Wing hovering before the two of you. 

“Sam!” you exclaimed, a mix of surprise and exasperation coloring your tone. “What are you doing?”

“Just tracking down the source of that security breach,” Sam replied casually. “You know FRIDAY gives Tony the heads-up whenever something goes south with the compound’s security, right?” 

Heat crept to your cheeks as you ran a hand down your face, caught between embarrassment and frustration. 

“Cyka! Could we get some privacy, please?” Yelena shot back.

Sam chuckled, “If you were looking for privacy, I’d recommend a less theatrical entrance next time.”

Yelena grumbled, glancing impatiently at her watch. “I’m already late for the debriefing, and you’ve got a group of anxious recruits waiting for you. I’ll be in your room when you're done.”

“Okay, sweetheart,” you replied with a teasing smile and a lingering kiss. 

“Ah, young love—so enchanting,” Sam's voice chirped through Red Wing. 

You watched her leave, then turned your gaze back to the hovering drone. “I’m this close throwing a rock at that thing,” you muttered.

“His name is Red Wing,” Sam corrected. “And really, what sort of example would you be setting for the recruits?”

As you turned on your heel and walked away, a torrent of frustrated curses escaped your lips, barely audible yet simmering with exasperation.

*^~^*

By the time you wrapped up recruit training, completed their progress reports, met with Fury, and indulged in a refreshing shower, the world outside had slipped into darkness.

You softly pushed open the door to your bedroom. It was quiet, save for the soft sound of Yelena’s gentle breathing. She lay peacefully on your bed, her body nestled comfortably within the covers, lost in a deep sleep. You could see the exhaustion etched across her features; the jet lag alone would have been enough to bring anyone to their knees.

Slowly, you lowered yourself onto the edge of the bed. As you turned to your side, the soft glow from the bedside lamp illuminated her face, casting shadows that highlighted her delicate features. You reached out gently, brushing back a stray strand of her blonde hair that had fallen across her forehead, your fingers lingering just a moment to savor the softness. With a sigh, you closed your eyes, drifting into a peaceful slumber, content knowing Yelena was finally home and you could pick up where you left off.

*^~^*

Yelena made sure to move as quietly as a whisper when she slipped out of bed in the morning, careful not to wake you. The sheets were still warm where she had lain, and the night pressed heavily upon her eyelids, urging her to return to sleep. Yet, the blonde had something else in mind. Her feet padded softly on the floor as she reached Maria’s office, pausing momentarily before knocking gently on the door.

“Come in,” came her voice from within, steady and inviting.

Yelena peeked into the room, where the soft glow of a desk lamp illuminated Maria hunched over a stack of mission reports.

“Yelena, welcome back,” Maria said, setting the reports aside and offering a warm smile that softened her usually serious demeanor. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“First of all, I wanted to thank you for your help in locating the last widow. Without your contact, I’d still be lost in the Yakushima forest, trying to decipher tracks in the underbrush,” she replied earnestly.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Maria responded, a slight smirk barely curling her lips. “Was there a second of all?” 

“I want to do something special for Y/N,” Yelena said. With a flourish, she pulled out her phone, the screen illuminating her face as she displayed vibrant photos of the one place you had always dreamt of visiting—an exotic paradise that seemed worlds away. “Can you help me make this happen?” 

“I think we can arrange that,” Maria replied, her tone turning serious yet excited, and Yelena felt a flicker of hope.

*^~^*

As the light crept through the curtains, you instinctively reached out for Yelena, seeking the comfort of her presence. Instead, your fingers brushed against cool, empty sheets. Blinking away the remnants of slumber, you propped yourself up on one elbow and glanced around the room, your heart sinking at the sight of the empty bed.

“FRIDAY, where’s Yelena?” you called out, your voice breaking the quiet.

“Ms. Belova is preparing breakfast in the kitchen,” FRIDAY replied. 

As you stepped into the kitchen, the inviting aroma of scrambled eggs filled the air. There sat your girlfriend, still in her cozy pajamas, artfully arranging two plates on the table.

“Wow, what’s all this, love? I thought you’d be sleeping,” you said, pulling out your chair and sitting.

She flashed you a warm smile, kissing your cheek softly as she settled beside you. “I know, but I wanted to make up for lost time. Hot sauce?” she offered, holding up the bottle playfully.

“Absolutely,” you replied, grinning back at her. “This is nice. I can’t even remember the last time we had breakfast together.”

“November 15th,” she replied casually, effortlessly mixing hot sauce into her eggs. “You had a bagel with cream cheese and grape jelly while I had honeycomb cereal and avocado toast.”

You raised an eyebrow in surprise. “You remember that?”

“Of course!” she said, her tone teasing, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

As you finished breakfast, the compound came to life. Steve walked in, his cheeks flushed from his run, his shirt clinging to his muscular frame. Natasha, preparing to hit the road, emerged from her room with her motorcycle helmet in hand. The inviting scent of chocolate chip cookies filled the air as Wanda began baking, effortlessly moving around the kitchen. Tony burst in next, a whirlwind of enthusiasm, pouring himself a steaming cup of coffee and excitedly rambling about complex calculations you didn't understand. 

“Well, so much for our quiet moment,” Yelena said, her voice barely cutting through the lively chaos swirling around you.

You sighed, glancing at her with a mix of disappointment and concern. When you were about to suggest that perhaps she’d like to slip back under the covers for a little longer before the chaos of recruit training began, FRIDAY’s voice pierced the air.

“I apologize for the interruption, but Agent Hill urgently requires the immediate presence of Ms. Belova and Ms. Y/L/N in the Quinjet hangar. This is a priority one alert,” the AI announced.

You groaned, “Oh, come on, she just got home!”

“It’s okay, malyshka,” Yelena replied, doing her best to comfort you. “I’ll meet you down there.” 

You nodded with a heavy heart and went to your room to quickly change.

“What the hell is a priority one alert?” Tony blurted out the moment you left the room.

“Watch your language,” Steve scolded, shaking his head.

“Yeah, that’s not even a thing, sestra,” Natasha added, crossing her arms.

“It’s the thing FRIDAY says when you’re planning a surprise romantic getaway for your girlfriend. So zip it before you ruin the surprise!” Yelena shot back with a fierce whisper.

“Language, Belova,” Steve reiterated.

“Oh, shove it, Captain goody-two-shoes!” Yelena retorted.

“That's so sweet,” Wanda gushed, a warm smile spreading across her face. “Where are you two going?”

“That information is classified. Now, if you'll all excuse me, I need to get back to deceiving my significant other,” Yelena smirked, her smile mischievous as she slipped out.

*^~^*

You donned your suit, the familiar fabric hugging your form as you entered the elevator. As it descended to ground level, a lump formed in your throat. Being an Avenger was a privilege you cherished, and the thrill of fighting for good filled you with purpose, but today’s call to action felt incredibly unfair. You had waited so long to reconnect with Yelena. Instead, you were reminded that sometimes duty meant sacrifice. You reassured yourself that she would be right there with you, but this wasn’t quite the peaceful reunion you had in mind.

As you stepped into the expansive hangar, your footsteps echoed off the metal walls. To your surprise, Yelena was already there, conversing with Maria. The two paused mid-sentence as they noticed your approach. 

Maria’s expression softened, “I’m really sorry. I know you've just reunited, and I tried to find someone else for this mission, but—”

Don't worry about it,” you cut in, shifting into work mode. “What do we have?”

“We got intel early this morning about a hidden, high-tech Hydra base on the Hawaiian island of Kauai,” Maria said, her fingers flying over her tablet.

Yelena’s brows furrowed, “Operational or deserted?”

Maria swiped through images of the island, revealing lush greenery that concealed secrets. “It’s hard to tell. The dense foliage could be hiding anything from advanced weaponry to high-ranking Hydra officials.”

“What’s the ultimate objective?” you asked, your mind racing through the possibilities.

“Reconnaissance first,” Maria explained, her tone focused. “Then we disrupt any illicit activities on the ground.”

You nodded, determination setting in. “I’ll prep the Quinjet.”

“Got it; I’ll be right behind you, Y/N,” Yelena said as you headed up the ramp.

Once you were aboard, Yelena turned back to Maria, a playful grin spreading across her face. “I have to say, I’m impressed. That was some top-notch acting.”

Maria smirked. “You flatter me,” she said, playfully placing a hand on the blonde’s shoulder. “I cleared you two for the week, so just make sure you don’t waste it.”

“Oh, don't worry, we won’t,” Yelena replied with a cheeky wink before boarding the Quinjet. 

The brunette let out a sigh, rolling her eyes. “You owe me one!” she shouted.

Yelena, undeterred, shot Maria a confident thumbs up. “We’re both doing a really good job!” she proclaimed, the aircraft’s engines roaring to life as you prepared for take-off.

A few minutes into the flight, you engaged the Quinjet’s autopilot, sinking back into the soft leather of your seat with a heavy sigh. You would never admit it, but Yelena wasn't the only one who was tired. Recruit training had exhausted you to no end. You closed your eyes, hoping for just a brief moment of respite. But, when you finally opened them again, Yelena was in the co-pilot seat beside you. Her fingers danced over the controls.

“What’s going on?” you murmured, still half-dreaming as your brain struggled to catch up.

“We’re prepared to land,” Yelena replied, a hint of amusement in her voice.

“Already?” you exclaimed, rubbing the sleep from your eyes with disbelief. 

The blonde's laughter filled the cockpit like sunlight breaking through clouds. “It’s been four hours, detka.”

The shock of your delayed awareness hits you like a jolt of caffeine. “What?” you shouted, your heart racing. “Four hours?! Why didn't you wake me?”

Yelena turned to you, her expression playful yet sincere. “You were sleeping so soundly. I didn't want to interrupt,” she explained, her tone teasing but warm.

“Oh my God,” you groaned, exasperating, running a hand down your face. “I’m carrying our bags to the safe house. No arguments!”

“Whatever you say, sweetheart,” Yelena replied with a knowing smile.

*^~^*

As the Quinjet touched down, you dashed toward the back, seizing the bags before Yelena could snag them. Sticking your tongue out at her in playful defiance.

The blonde chuckled at your bullishness. “Great, you’ve got the bags. Now, let’s get a move on,” she said, rolling her eyes affectionately.

With a soft whir, the ramp opened, revealing a breathtaking tapestry of Kauai's vibrant foliage bathed in dappled sunlight. The air was fragrant with tropical flowers, and a gentle breeze whispered through the leaves.

“Need a hand with those?” Yelena offered, squinting slightly as she observed how you juggled the bags while maneuvering down the ramp.

“Not a chance,” you declared confidently, your stubbornness radiating like a beacon.

“Upryamyy kak mul (stubborn as a mule),” Yelena murmured.

“What?” you asked, your brow furrowing in confusion.

She flashed you a playful smirk, the sunlight catching her features perfectly. “Oh, nothing, detka,” she said.

You walked what felt like miles—each step punctuated by the soft crunch of leaves and twigs beneath your feet—following Yelena through the dense Hawaiian jungle. Vines hung like twisted ropes from towering trees, and exotic birds flitted overhead, their calls echoing through the thick canopy.

After an eternity of navigating the seemingly endless green maze, you finally halted, letting the bags drop to the ground with a dramatic huff. You surveyed the landscape, each tree identical to the last, and turned to Yelena, “Are we lost?”

“No, trust me, the safe house is just a little farther this way,” Yelena insisted, striding confidently ahead.

You sighed and hoisted the bags back up, stacking them precariously. They were blocking your view, forcing you to stumble through the clearing, following the sound of Yelena’s voice. 

“This way, Y/N! Come on!” came her cheerful call.

“I’m not a dog, you know,” you shot back sarcastically.

After a few more steps, you heard her say, “We’re here!”

“Finally,” you breathed, relief flooding you as you let the bags drop at your feet.

You had half-expected a rickety little shack, but what greeted you was a stunning retreat between the lush green mountains and the breathtaking valleys of Kauai's north shore. The place was nothing short of a modern Hawaiian estate.

“Woah,” you breathed, wide-eyed. “What is this?” Your gaze shifted between Yelena and the magnificent estate; disbelief etched on your face.

“This,” Yelena said, her hands gently framing your face, “is our vacation!”

“What?” Your mind whirled as you processed her words.

“Surprise, malyshka!” Yelena exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

“No mission? No Hydra base?” you asked, each word tinged with confusion as reality settled in.

“Now you’re catching on!” she teased, tapping your cheek playfully. “All a clever ruse I came up with. Pretty ingenious, if I do say so myself.”

“But Maria—” you started, feeling the weight of your responsibilities.

“Was in on it,” Yelena finished smoothly, a knowing look in her eyes.

“What about the recruits? I can’t just abandon them,” anxiety creeping into your voice.

“I’ve already taken care of everything,” Yelena reassured you. “Natasha agreed to cover for you this week, and you’ll be back in time for their final evaluations.”

You stared at her, processing the news. The tension slowly ebbed away as the enormity of her gesture sunk in. Then, without thinking, you threw your arms around her, pulling her close and kissing her softly, gratitude pouring from every corner of your heart.

“I'm assuming this means I did well?” Yelena asked a hopeful glint in her eyes.

“You nailed it, babe,” you replied, your voice wavering with emotion.

“Do you want to go inside?” the blonde asked, her hand reaching out invitingly for yours.

You nodded eagerly, slipping your hand into hers, a thrill of anticipation racing through you.

As you crossed the threshold, a warm, welcoming ambiance enveloped you, perfectly embodying the essence of aloha. The interior was a stunning blend of traditional Hawaiian charm, sleek modern aesthetics, and innovative technology—timeless and cutting-edge.

“Wow,” you breathed, taking in the surroundings. “This place is amazing! Whose is it?”

“This is one of Stark’s properties. We get to enjoy it for the next seven days,” Yelena replied, her voice bouncing off the beautifully crafted stone walls.

“Aww, that’s so thoughtful of Tony,” you remarked, genuinely touched.

Yelena rubbed the back of her neck, a small smile spreading across her face. “Yeah, he doesn’t actually know we’re here. Maria coordinated the whole thing, so I guess I owe her a favor—probably for life.”

“I can only imagine,” you laughed, moving toward the expansive window. “Oh my God! Look at this view!”

You gasped as you peered at the breathtaking, private beach just steps from the back door, the turquoise waves lapping gently at the shore.

“Hmmm, I have a feeling we’re going to spend some time out there tonight,” Yelena said thoughtfully, pulling you closer into her embrace.

You smiled, a warm sense of excitement bubbling up inside you. “I like the sound of that,” you replied, wrapping your arms around her neck. “But I have to ask… what made you do all this?”

Yelena took a moment, her gaze steady as she searched for the right words. “I was away for so long, and you never questioned why I had to leave. You never doubted my mission to find those girls or my commitment to us. You never lost faith in me. I love you, Y/N, and I want you to feel that in every moment we share.”

“I love you, too, Yelena,” you replied, gently caressing her cheek. “I always understood you wouldn’t rest until you found every last one of them, and I knew you’d always find your way back to me. I can’t tell you how proud I am of the incredible woman you are.” 

Unshed tears glimmered in the blonde’s eyes as she absorbed your heartfelt words. “Okay, that was really good,” she murmured, her voice trembling with emotion. She leaned in, her warmth enveloping you as her lips met yours in a sweet, tender kiss filled with unspoken promises.

*^~^*

You spent a blissful seven days with Yelena in your tropical Hawaiian paradise, enveloped by the breathtaking beauty of Kauai. Each day began with the sun rising over the ocean, casting golden hues across the sky, inspiring you to venture into the stunning natural landscape. You explored the island’s lush green trails, hiking through dense forests filled with chirping birds and rustling leaves, feeling invigorated by the fresh, salty air.

You spent adventurous days catching waves together as you surfed, the rush of the ocean exhilarating and bonding. You laughed and encouraged each other as you paddled out and rode the swells, the sun warming your skin and the surf splashing around you. You kayaked along peaceful coastlines, marveling at the stunning cliffs and vibrant marine life beneath the shimmering waters, feeling your connection deepen with each shared experience.

Yelena especially found joy in the spacious, state-of-the-art kitchen. Every day became a culinary adventure as you experimented with fresh local ingredients, creating dishes that satisfied your appetites and made you appreciate your time together even more. The adjacent dining area was a picture-perfect setting, boasting panoramic views of the surrounding mountains and valleys, and the colors of sunset painted a backdrop that made every meal feel special.

In the afternoons, you indulged in relaxation by the infinity-edge swimming pool, which seemed to blend seamlessly into the endless blue of the ocean. The soothing sounds of water surrounded you as you floated, enjoying each moment of tranquility. When the sun begins to set, you often unwind in the adjacent hot tub, soaking away the day's adventures while sharing stories and laughter.

Evenings turned into cozy movie nights in Tony’s high-tech theater and game room, where you made a ritual of watching classic films and trying to beat each other’s high scores on his collection of arcade games. The allure of competition fueled your playful banter.

When the week ended and you packed to return home, a bittersweet feeling washed over you. You both knew that this lavish escape was exactly what you needed amid the chaos of your lives as Avengers. It was a retreat that rejuvenated not just your bodies but also your spirits. You were confident that the challenges that awaited you back in the real world would be met with a newfound strength—a bolstered bond, a deeper understanding, and an enduring love that would make everything worthwhile. You couldn’t imagine life any other way.

As you took a final glance around the place, you leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss on Yelena’s cheek, an amused smirk playing on your lips. “You realize you could have just told me about the vacation, right? Could have saved all this hassle?”

“Ah, but where’s the thrill in that?” Yelena teased with a playful wink.

[sycamorelibrary754]

Hearts on the Run

Paring: Natasha Romanoff x Fem! Reader

Summary: You and Natasha are on the run in Norway, unaware that Valentine’s Day is upon you. Natasha goes out of her way to make it special.

Word Count: 942

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: None

A/N: A day late, but I wanted to write a little something for Natasha. Happy Valentine’s Day!

Holiday Series: Home is Anywhere You Are Masterlist

You sat on the worn couch in the small, nondescript safe house, flipping through a battered copy of a magazine. The words blurred together on the page as your mind wandered back to the events that had led you here.

It had been months since the airport battle in Leipzig. Months since Steve had gone rogue, you'd found yourself at odds with the organization you'd sworn to protect.

You had both made difficult decisions and were now paying the price. You chose to stand by Steve, convinced that the Sokovia Accords posed a grave danger to the Avengers' freedom. Natasha, on the other hand, aligned with Tony. Having witnessed the chaos of unchecked power firsthand—the horrors of the Red Room and the sinister machinations of HYDRA—she couldn't bear the thought of history repeating itself.

Yet, when the moment arrived, her loyalty to Steve prevailed, and she aided him and Bucky in their escape. After being captured by Ross and making a break for freedom, Natasha arrived in the serene yet rugged wilderness of Norway, where fate had a surprise in store for her—she found you, a beacon of hope amid the chaos she had fled. Both of you on the run and united by a shared sense of purpose.

Nat walked into the room, her eyes scanning the space before coming to rest on you. "Hey," she said, her voice low and smooth. "Find anything interesting?"

You shook your head, setting the magazine aside. "Just the usual. Politics, scandals...nothing that will help us get out of this mess.”

Natasha nodded sympathetically. "I know. It feels like we're stuck in limbo, doesn't it?"

You sighed, rubbing your temples. "I just wish we could go back to how things were before. You know, when our biggest worry was some alien invasion or Hydra scientist."

Natasha smiled wryly. "I miss those days too. But we can't change the past. We have to focus on the present."

You looked up at her, feeling a surge of gratitude. Natasha had been a rock for you throughout this ordeal, using her vast resources and network of contacts to keep you one step ahead of the authorities.

You felt a flutter in your chest as you gazed into her eyes. It was a feeling you'd grown accustomed to over the past few months, but one that still caught you off guard.

Natasha seemed to sense your gaze, and her expression softened. "Hey," she said, walking over to sit beside you on the couch. "It's Valentine's Day."

You raised an eyebrow. "I hadn't noticed."

Natasha smiled. "I figured as much. But I thought we could...celebrate, anyway."

You felt a spark of curiosity. "Celebrate?"

Natasha nodded. "Yeah. I mean, we're stuck in this safe house, but that doesn't mean we can't make the most of it. I was thinking we could...have a nice dinner, watch a movie...something like that."

You smiled, feeling a sense of excitement. "That sounds amazing."

Natasha grinned, standing up. "Great. I'll go start dinner."

As she walked into the kitchen, you couldn't help but feel a sense of wonder. Despite everything that had happened, despite being on the run and in hiding, Natasha had still managed to make this Valentine's Day special.

You got up and walked over to the window, looking out at the drab, suburban landscape. It wasn't the most romantic setting, but with Natasha by your side, you felt like you could face anything.

As you stood there, lost in thought, you felt a hand on your shoulder. You turned to see Natasha standing behind you with a small smile.

"Hey," she said, her voice low and husky. "Dinner's ready."

You smiled, feeling a sense of anticipation. "Great. I'm starving."

Natasha chuckled, leading you to the small table in the corner of the room. The spread before you was impressive - steak, roasted vegetables, and even a small chocolate cake for dessert.

You sat down, feeling grateful. "Natasha, this is amazing. You didn't have to go to so much trouble."

Natasha smiled, sitting down across from you. "I wanted to. Not every day we get to celebrate Valentine's Day in style."

You laughed, picking up your fork. "I guess not."

As you ate, you couldn't help but feel a sense of joy. Despite everything that had happened, despite being on the run and in hiding, you felt like you'd found a sense of peace with Natasha.

After dinner, you sat down on the couch, watching as Natasha put in a DVD. The movie was an old romantic comedy you'd seen before but never grew tired of.

As you watched, you felt Natasha's hand brush against yours. It was a fleeting touch, but it sent a spark of electricity through your body.

You looked over at her, seeing the faintest glimmer of a smile on her face. You smiled back, feeling a sense of connection.

As the movie ended, Natasha got up and walked to the window. You followed her, standing beside her as you looked at the night sky.

"It's beautiful," Natasha said, her voice barely above a whisper.

You nodded, feeling a sense of agreement. "It is."

You looked up, meeting Natasha's eyes. For moment, you just stared at each other, the tension between you palpable.

Then Natasha smiled a slow, sultry smile. "Happy Valentine's Day," she said, her voice low and husky.

You smiled back, feeling your heart skip a beat. "Happy Valentine's Day," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

As you stood there, the air thick with tension, you knew that this Valentine's Day, on the run and in hiding, would be one you'd never forget.

[sycamorelibrary754]

Guardian Angel 

Chapter 15: Where There is Smoke, There is Fire

Summary: Billy and Tommy join you at the Candy Bar during Christmas break, but life-threatening dangers lurk in the shadows. Your parents are determined to force you back into the family business, no matter the cost.

Warnings: Fire, near-death-experience

Word Count: 4.2k

A/N: This angst has been a long time coming; we’re about 2/3 of the way through the series! 

Guardian Angel Masterlist

“Come on, boys, let's go—” you called up the stairs, but your voice trailed off as you caught a glimpse of Billy and Tommy in the kitchen, fully dressed, ready for the day.

It shouldn’t have surprised you. Since Christmas break began, they’d been practically counting the minutes to their daily pilgrimage to the Candy Bar.

“Well, I see you two are eager beavers this morning! Why can’t we get this kind of enthusiasm for school?” you teased, leaning against the doorframe.

“Because school isn’t a candy shop,” Tommy smirked back.

“Exactly,” Billy agreed, “Plus, we don’t get to be the official taste testers for new desserts.”

“Thank goodness for that,” Wanda said from the kitchen, her chaos magic gently lowering Sparky’s food dish filled with breakfast onto the floor for the hungry pup. “You’d both be bouncing off the walls even more than usual.”

With a chuckle, you grabbed your car keys from the bowl on the counter and tossed your satchel over your shoulder.

“What’s on your agenda today?” you asked the redhead.

Wanda leaned in slightly. “I thought I’d get a jump on the Christmas shopping. It’s so much easier without the boys tagging along,” she confided, lowering her voice so Billy and Tommy wouldn't hear.

You couldn’t help but smile. “I can only imagine! Okay, have fun,” you replied, kissing her lips softly. 

“See you later, sweetheart,” she called after you, her smile warm.

As the boys bounded toward the door, Wanda hugged them tightly. “Alright, my little tornadoes, behave yourselves, and remember—try not to spoil your appetite today,” she urged.

*^~^*

The short ride to the Candy Bar had always been a peaceful affair, but with Billy and Tommy joining you this past week, it had transformed into a lively adventure. As you cranked up the volume on Sirius XM—another thoughtful gift from Tony when he decked out your new car—the three of you erupted into song, belting out the lyrics to "Lose Control" by Teddy Swims.

I lose control

When you're not next to me

I'm fallin' apart right in front of you, can't you see?

I lose control

When you're not next to me, mm-hm

Yeah, you're breakin' my heart, baby

You make a mess of me

Pulling into the Candy Bar's parking lot, the boys took the keys from the middle console and rushed to unlock the shop's doors. 

“Alright, team! Who wants to refill the candy jars, and who wants to join Harper in whipping up some delicious fudge?” you asked, donning your colorful Candy Bar apron with a flourish.

Tommy's eyes sparkled with excitement. “I’m in for the fudge!” he declared.

Billy grinned, already plotting his candy jar strategy. “I’ll tackle the candy jars!” he announced.

As the boys turned to leave, you called out to them, “Wait a sec! I have something special for you.” You pulled out two crisp white nametags, each adorned with their names elegantly scripted in gold. 

“Whoa, this is awesome!” Tommy exclaimed, his eyes lighting up with surprise.

“Thanks a ton, Y/N! This is so cool!” Billy added, grinning from ear to ear.

As soon as Harper arrived, you started working on new soda flavors for the fountain. You immersed yourself in the vibrant colors and enticing scents that swirled around the kitchen. Now and then, you glanced over at the boys, who were deep in their tasks. Tommy stood at the stove; his brow furrowed in concentration as he expertly stirred the rich, chocolatey fudge mixture, the sweet aroma wafting through the room. Meanwhile, Billy busily filled and organized the candy jars, his hands deftly arranging the colorful confections with an artist's touch, showcasing the rainbow of treats.

*^~^*

Back at the compound, Yelena sat at her desk, her laptop glowing in the dim light as she adjusted her headphones, fully immersed in the audio from the bug Scott had planted at Onyx Petroleum Headquarters. It had been a long week of enduring your parents' endless complaints about their employees, and with each passing day, her hope that this bug would uncover something worthwhile dwindled. Just as she contemplated a much-needed break and was about to pester Kate Bishop into joining her for a trip to Shake Shack, she heard your father’s voice cut through the static, and her interest was instantly piqued when he began talking about you with a man who's voice she didn't recognize.

“Did you see her?” your father asked, his voice laced with tension.

“I did,” the mysterious man responded, a hint of disdain. “She was in the park, surrounded by the freak’s two kids, all laughing and playing with some scruffy mutt that looked like it had seen better days. It seems she’s shacking up with Maximoff.”

“All the more reason for us to act quickly,” he murmured, his voice low and tense. “We must eliminate this absurd distraction before it derails everything we’ve worked for.”

"It's in motion," the man assured.

"And your associates," your father began cautiously, weighing his words, “they can ensure this looks like an accident?”

The man chuckled, a sinister edge to his laughter. ���They have plenty of experience,” he said, grumbling with malice. “Trust me, just a little snip here and there, and your daughter’s shop will be nothing more than a mound of ash.”

The color drained from Yelena’s face as she absorbed their words. Her heart raced, and she sharply commanded, “FRIDAY, get everyone in here—now! This is an emergency.”

*^~^*

After the morning rush slowed down, you hung the “Be back after lunch” sign on the door, a smile playing on your lips as you watched the boys fill up custom bags with candy you swore to keep from Wanda. In the cozy back kitchen, you, Billy, and Tommy lounged around, eagerly anticipating Harper’s return from the downtown deli with lunch—specifically, the turkey club that had practically become the highlight of your work day.

As you pictured the delicious sandwich, the bell above the shop door jingled, breaking your thoughts. 

“Wow, that was fast! Bring on the turkey club!” you called out, rubbing your hands together in anticipation. But instead of Harper’s cheerful response, you were met with silence.

“Stay put, guys,” you instructed Billy and Tommy as they savored their candy; they barely registered your words, too wrapped up in their sugary haul.

Curiosity prodded you to step out to the front of the store. As you ventured into the aisles, a strange unease settled over you. The shop was empty—no sign of Harper. Just as confusion began to creep in, you spun around, nearly colliding with a bearded man who stood frozen in place, a storm of intensity in his gaze. He wore a leather jacket, and a baseball cap was pulled low, casting a shadow over his face.

With a startled gasp, you looked up and smiled nervously. “Umm, hello. The Candy Bar is closed for lunch now, but I would happily serve you if you return in about an hour.”

The stranger only smirked in response, sending a chill racing down your spine. 

“Look, I need you to leave,” you said, your voice steady but laced with an edge of urgency. 

“I’m not going anywhere.” he retorted, a defiant glint in his eyes.

Just as you were about to respond, a sudden impact struck the back of your head, sending you crashing to the ground. Darkness began to creep in, swallowing the world around you.

*^~^*

“Do we have any leads on the other voice in the recording?” Steve asked, his brow furrowed. The team huddled around the audio equipment, listening to the bugged conversation.

“FRIDAY, initiate voice recognition,” Tony commanded. His eyes were fixed on the screens displaying the audio waveforms.

“Right away, Boss,” Friday replied promptly as she scanned the sound files. “The other voice has been identified as Dominic Karofsky, a former Hydra operative turned hitman.”

“Son of a bitch,” Bucky muttered under his breath, his fists clenching slightly as FRIDAY projected Karofsky’s profile onto the central screen, revealing a collection of images and pertinent details about the man.

"Do you know him?" Sam asked.

“Yeah,” Bucky replied, a hint of disdain creeping into his voice. “Karofsky was Hydra’s muscle on the ground, always lurking in the shadows, ready to do their dirty work.”

Nat paced back and forth, glancing at her phone for what felt like the hundredth time. “Y/N still isn’t answering,” she admitted.

Clint's expression shifted to one of determination. “Let’s go. I’ll drive,” he said, already moving toward the door.

*^~^*

Your head throbbed like a relentless drum as you slowly regained consciousness. As you sat up gingerly, the stark realization hit you—you were inside the stock room.

A familiar voice pierced through the fog in your mind. “You’re awake!” Billy exclaimed, relief flooding his tone.

“And you’re not dead,” Tommy chimed in, only to be hit in the arm by Billy in response.

“Are you both alright? Are you hurt?” Your voice shook with concern as you scanned their bodies, desperately searching for any sign of injury.

“We’re fine,” Tommy reassured you, though his eyes betrayed a flicker of fear.

“Who were those guys?” Billy pressed, his brow furrowed.

You rubbed the back of your head, trying to shake off the lingering dread. “I have no idea,” you admitted, glancing back at the door.

You tugged at the handle, but it wouldn’t budge. Fear clawed at you with no phones and no way to call for help, but you took a deep breath, forcing a calm smile for the boys’ sake. “It’s okay. I’m sure those men have moved on. They were probably just after some quick cash. Harper will be back soon, and she’ll let us out of here.”

You plopped down on a nearby milk crate, ignoring the stock room's oppressive closeness. Panic fluttered in your chest as you fought to conserve every ounce of oxygen; small spaces were your nemesis. As you settled into the anxious quiet, a loud bang shattered the stillness, jolting your senses.

“Do you smell that?” Billy asked, his brow furrowing in concern.

“Whoever smelt it dealt it!” Tommy shouted with bravado.

“No, you moron, it smells like smoke!” Billy shot back, his eyes wide with worry.

As you approached the door, intense heat radiated from the other side, enveloping your hand as you pressed against it. Your shop was on fire. 

*^~^*

“Step on it, birdbrain!” Yelena shouted, her voice slicing through the tension in the car as Clint gripped the steering wheel, determination etched on his face. In the back seat, Bucky frantically tried to reach you and the boys, his phone ringing unanswered.

Outside, the roar of Natasha's motorcycle echoed as she expertly maneuvered through the tightly packed traffic, her figure a blur against the backdrop of honking horns and screeching tires. Above them, Tony soared through the sky, a streak of red and gold chrome against the blue expanse, as he raced ahead.

As they approached, a dark plume of smoke began to billow into the air, growing thicker and more ominous. Soon, the scene unfolded: flames danced hungrily from the interior of the Candy Bar, illuminating the surroundings with an eerie glow.

“The shop is on fire!” Tony shouted, his voice cutting through the chaos. “FRIDAY, engage water artillery and alert emergency services!”

Across town, Wanda stood at Macy's checkout counter, her arms filled with shopping bags, when a sudden, chilling vision pierced through her thoughts. She saw Billy and Tommy, their faces twisted in fear as they called for help. Panic surged through her as the scene shifted, revealing you desperately pounding on the door of the stockroom, smoke billowing ominously beneath it. The redhead dashed out of the store without a second thought, abandoning her car and forgetting purchases. With a sudden exhilaration, she launched herself into the sky, racing through the wispy clouds toward the Candy Bar with the wind at her back.

Clint and Natasha sped into the parking lot, their tires screeching against the asphalt as they came to a sudden halt, leaving dark skid marks behind.

Tony unleashed his repulsor rays, dousing the roaring flames that danced dangerously atop the shop's roof. Meanwhile, Clint was a blur of motion, launching arrows that exploded with a splash of water, targeting the most prominent hotspots with pinpoint accuracy. 

Natasha, Yelena, and Bucky charged through the front door, weaving through fiery chaos and narrowly escaping the weight of falling beams. The shop sprinklers were losing the battle against the flames. Keeping low to the ground, they searched every shadowy corner of the shop, their hearts pounding—still no sign of you or the boys.

“Help!” Tommy and Billy cried desperately, their voices strained and hoarse from the thick smoke that choked the air around them.

The heat was becoming unbearable, a living thing that pressed in from all sides. In a frantic bid for freedom, you slammed your shoulder against the stock room door again and again, your desperation mounting as it stubbornly refused to give way. Relentless coughs echoed through the air as all three of you struggled to breathe. Time was running out, and every second felt like a lifetime.

“Check the back!” Yelena shouted, desperately pulling her shirt up to her face to shield herself from the thick, choking smoke that filled the air.

The fire crackled ominously around them, drowning out nearly all sound. Yet, amidst the chaos, the distinct sound of shouting pierced through the blaze.

“Y/N?!” Natasha's voice broke through the mayhem, laced with urgency.

“We’re in here!” you cried, your heart racing.

Yelena and Natasha struggled to force the door open, but the heat of the flames had warped the wood, making it nearly impossible.

“Move!” Bucky barked, his voice commanding. “Y/N, get the boys away from the door!”

“Come here, guys,” you said, trying to steady your trembling hands as you beckoned Billy and Tommy to you. You gathered both boys in your arms, holding them close against you.

With unwavering resolve, Bucky gripped the doorframe with his metal arm and wrenched the door from its hinges, hurling it aside as if it were nothing more than flimsy styrofoam. Natasha darted toward you while Yelena and Bucky swiftly lifted Billy and Tommy into their arms. The front of the shop was now engulfed in flames, blocking your escape. The only way out was through the back door, and with the fire closing in, you moved quickly.

As you burst into the dimly lit alleyway, the acrid smell of smoke clung to the air, swirling around you like a dense fog. Your gaze quickly locked onto the uniformed firefighters, their faces smeared with soot, determination etched into their furrowed brows. Nearby, paramedics moved with purpose, their bright blue uniforms contrasting sharply against the darkened surroundings. They beckoned you forward, guiding you toward the waiting ambulances parked under the flickering lights of the parking lot.

Wanda arrived at the scene just as the paramedics were carefully fitting the three of you with oxygen masks in the cramped interior of the ambulance. She could see the terrified expressions on your faces, illuminated by the flashing red and blue lights outside. You all struggled to catch your breath, fighting the smoke in your lungs.

“Oh my God,” Wanda exclaimed, her voice trembling as tears cascaded down her cheeks. She hurriedly approached the three of you, her eyes wide with panic and relief. “Are you alright? My sweet boys!” She cradled Billy and Tommy’s faces, searching their eyes for signs of distress.

“It was terrifying, Mom,” Billy managed to say, his voice muffled slightly by the mask covering his face. His eyes were wide and shimmering with the remnants of fear.

“The fire was so close,” Tommy said, his words tumbling out in a rush, “but Y/N kept us safe until your friends arrived to rescue us.” His voice held both gratitude and awe.

“Yeah, Aunt Natasha and Yelena found us!” Billy added eagerly. “Then Uncle Bucky just—bam!—ripped the door off the hinges!” He mimicked the action with his hands.

Wanda stifled a laugh to mask her tears as she wrapped her arms tightly around her sons. Sobbing and smiling all at once, she kissed the tops of their heads, inhaling the familiar scents of their hair as relief washed over her. After a moment, she turned towards you.

“Y/N, oh my God,” Wand cried as she scanned your face, her eyes wide with concern. She gently embraced you, tears streaming down her cheeks.“Are you okay? What the hell happened?”

You were still reeling from the chaos, but the words spilled out, barely coherent. “Two guys... they burst into the shop during lunch and hit me over the head. When I came to, the boys and I were trapped in the stock room,” you struggled to explain, a cough escaping you as the acrid smoke filled the air. Wanda’s hand found your back, soothingly rubbing circles. “I have no idea how the fire started.”

“I think I have the answer to that,” Tony said, his Iron Man mask sliding off his face with a soft hiss as he approached the ambulance. Nat, Clint, Yelena, and Bucky followed closely behind him. “FRIDAY ran a causal analysis,” he continued, his voice steady but edged with urgency. “They cut the wires to your stove, exposing a live electrical charge. The shop went up like a firework.” He turned to you, his gaze softening with empathy. “I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

The emotions surged like a tidal wave as you looked at the charred remnants of The Candy Bar, now a ghostly silhouette of what had once been a vibrant sanctuary of joy and laughter. The colorful awning, now tattered and gray, fluttered weakly in the breeze. This place had been your sanctuary, your saving grace during the stormy times when your parents’ toils left you adrift. Yet now, it lay in ruins, the sweet scent of nostalgia mingling with the smell of smoke and despair. Tears streamed down your cheeks as the weight of loss enveloped you, and you could barely breathe, shaking with despair as Wanda enveloped you in her steady embrace, offering the only comfort you could cling to in this heartbreaking moment.

“Y/N! Y/N!!” You recognized Harper's frantic voice cutting through the chaos as you looked up to see her struggling against the grip of a policeman, desperate to get to you.

“Let her through,” Clint interjected, his tone firm.

In an instant, Harper broke free and sprinted toward you, tears streaming down her face. “Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God! Are you okay? What happened?” Her panicked gaze darted between you, Billy, and Tommy, searching for answers.

“It’s gone,” you managed to whisper, your heart heavy with the weight of grief, the words barely escaping your lips amidst your uncontrollable sobs.

Without hesitation, Harper enveloped you in a tight embrace, letting the flood of emotions wash over you as you cried together. All the Avengers—your family—could do was stand helplessly by, their hearts heavy as they shared in your sorrow.

“Just to be safe, we want to take them to the hospital for a check-up,” one of the paramedics leaned in and whispered to Wanda, his voice steady yet urgent.

Wanda nodded, her face set with determination. “Absolutely,” she said, her voice steady as she wiped away the tears that had streaked her cheeks. 

“That’s not necessary,” you replied, trying to stand up and tugging at the oxygen mask. 

“Oh yes, it is, Y/N,” Wanda insisted, her grip gentle yet unwavering as she gently but firmly pushed you back by your shoulders.

“If Y/N isn’t going to the hospital, then neither are we,” Tommy declared, crossing his arms with a defiant glare. 

“Yeah!” Billy nodded vigorously in agreement, his eyes shining with loyal determination.

“That’s enough!” Wanda's voice cut through the tension, her Sokovian accent slipping out under stress. “If you want to avoid the hospital, all three of you are heading straight to the Med Bay, and I don't want to hear another word about it!” Her tone left no room for debate, a fierce determination radiating from her as she stood her ground.

“I’ll ride with you so Wanda can ride with Billy and Tommy,” Harper suggested, glancing back with a determined smile.

With a nod of agreement, you watched Tony slip a couple of crisp hundred-dollar bills into the hands of the paramedics. “Get them to the Avengers Compound, not the hospital,” he instructed, his voice steady and commanding.

“We’ll be right behind you!” Nat shouted after you, her tone reassuring as she followed the vehicle with her eyes.

Turning to Tony, Natasha's gaze was steely. “When do we break the news that her parents were behind this hit?” 

Tony heaved a sigh, the weight of the situation evident in his voice. “Not tonight. We must sort this out first—there's too much at stake.”

*^~^*

After your examination with Dr. Cho, you found yourself lying in your old room—Wanda's old room, to be precise. The soft bed felt strangely familiar and comforting. Fortunately, the blow to your head turned out to be just a mild concussion, and the treatment for smoke inhalation had worked wonders on your breathing. Still, Helen had firmly insisted on some much-needed rest.  Just then, Wanda entered the room with an ice pack in one hand, gently pressing it against your aching head. The other hand offered a glass of water, refreshing and cool against the dryness in your throat. "You need to take it easy," she reminded you softly, her eyes filled with concern. 

Emotionally exhausted, you felt too drained to debate with her, so you nodded in silence, letting the weight of the situation linger. After a moment, you finally found the strength to ask softly, “How are the boys?”

Wanda’s gentle hand glided through your hair, her touch bringing a small measure of comfort. “They’re doing fine,” she replied, her voice soothing yet tinged with concern. “They’ve finished their smoke treatments and are now curled up on the couch, watching a movie with Morgan. I think they’re still in shock.”

You sighed, rubbing your hands over your face as the fatigue settled deeper within you. “That makes three of us,” you murmured.

Wanda paused, her breath catching in her throat. “They told me what you did—how you tried to keep them calm and protected. Thank you, my love. For saving them.” Tears brimmed in her eyes.

You reached for her, wrapping your arms around her and pulling her close. “I would save those boys a million times over,” you said, your voice filled with unwavering conviction. “They're my world, just as you are.”

Wanda gently caressed your cheek; her eyes, reflecting a mix of compassion and concern, searched your face for signs of pain. “The Candy Bar was your world, too. I can’t begin to express how sorry I am for what you've lost, honey,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper, resonating with empathy.

Once again, all you could do was nod for fear you would start to cry again. “I don't know what I'm going to do now,” you said, at a loss.

“Whatever happens, I’m here for you, Y/N. You know that, right? I love you,” Wanda said softly, her gaze locking onto yours.

“I love you too, Wanda,” you replied, feeling a surge of warmth at her words.

The redhead settled beside you, wrapping her arms around you and pulling you close. “I think we should stay here for the night, and Helen can check on you three again in the morning,” she suggested.

“Whatever you say, love,” you replied, turning onto your side to fully face her. “Where is Harper, though?”

Wanda smirked. “Oh, Bucky drove her home. I could practically see the heart eyes she was making at him the whole way back,” she teased, laughter bubbling in her voice.

A soft giggle escaped your lips at the thought. “That sounds about right.”

*^~^*

“She wasn’t supposed to be there, you idiot!” your father roared at Karofsky, his voice echoing against the walls. “I told you to take care of the shop, not put my daughter in danger!”

Karofsky leaned back casually, a cigarette dangling from his lips. “You should have been more specific, Y/L/N,” he replied nonchalantly, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. 

“Now all you’ve done is put us squarely on the Avengers’ radar,” your father hissed, fury radiating from him.

With a flick of his wrist, Karofsky extinguished his cigarette against your father’s desk, a smoldering stain left behind. “Look, we did what you asked. Your daughter and those two brats are safe. Now, how about you pay up?”

“You’ll get your money, Dominic.” Your father’s tone shifted, laden with an iron threat. “But remember, I can make one call and have you thrown back into the Raft where you belong.”

Karofsky stormed out of your father’s office just as your mother entered, her high heels echoing sharply against the polished marble floor. A shiver ran down her spine as the door clicked shut behind him. “I can’t believe you hired that Neanderthal,” she exclaimed, disbelief and frustration mingling in her voice.

“He may be a fool, but he gets results,” your father replied, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose with a determined glint in his eye. “Now, let’s shift our focus to phase two. The witch has what we need.”

Taglist:@xxxtwilightaxelxxx @bibliophilicbi@darkstar225

[sycamorelibrary754]

Can I send in an angst kate bishop request please where her sibling gets injured on a mission and ends in comfort?

Thank you :) love your work!

Sister, sister

Pairing: Kate Bishop x Sister! Reader

Summary: As Kate Bishop's younger sister, you have always lived in her shadow. But the time has finally come for your first mission as an Avenger. While Kate wants to protect you, she must learn that she can't do that forever. What will happen when your sisterly bond begins to crack, and the mission takes a turn for the worse?

Genre: Angst, Comfort

Warnings: Mentions of injury and blood.

Word Count: 4.3k

A/N: My first request for Kate! I hope this is what you had in mind anon. This was so fun to write!

“Come on, Y/N! Focus!" Clint shouted, his voice cutting through the air as he stood beside your older sister, Kate, watching intently from outside the ring. 

Sparring with Natasha was a full-on battle, but you were determined to succeed in this rite of passage and prove that you were ready for your first mission. Like Kate, you were immersed in athletics growing up. But, instead of wielding a bow and arrow, you felt a pull toward the Dojo. Your shelves proudly displayed a remarkable collection of karate trophies—gleaming symbols of your hard work and dedication—that could easily compete with Kate’s impressive archery accolades. You earned your Black Belt shortly before turning twenty-one, a testament to the countless hours spent mastering the art of karate.

In a surge of adrenaline, you launched into a flurry of kick and punch combinations, each strike calculated and electrifying. Your fists were a blur, finding their mark with incredible precision. With a swift block, Natasha pivoted and unleashed a roundhouse kick that slammed into your ribs, knocking your breath out. Gritting your teeth, you quickly regained your footing, channeling your focus as you countered with a jumping spinning crescent kick. In an instant, The Black Widow was sprawled out on the mat, the surprise of your move momentarily flashing in her eyes.

“Well done, Bishop,” Nat winced as you helped her to her feet.

You stepped back into the corner of the ring, the cool towel against your forehead providing instant relief as you took a long sip of water. In front of you, Nat leaned casually against the ropes, chatting with Clint and Kate.

“So, what’s the verdict?” Clint asked, a hint of skepticism lacing his tone.

“She’s ready,” Natasha asserted, her confidence unwavering.

“Really? Are you absolutely, positively sure? I mean, don’t you think she could use more HIIT training, maybe some extra sparring sessions—” Kate rambled.

“Kate,” Natasha cut in, her hand resting reassuringly on your shoulder. “Y/N is ready. Trust me.”

“Let’s be real here. She’s already more prepared than you were when you joined,” Clint said, raising an eyebrow.

“Hey! My situation was completely different! The Track Suit Mafia attacked me out of nowhere!” Kate shot back, her cheeks flushing with indignation.

“Right, right. After you put on my Ronin suit first, and you had zero professional training to back it up,” Clint retorted, crossing his arms with a smirk.

“Technicality,” the young archer grumbled.

You adjusted your workout top to avoid intruding on three Avengers conversing, even if one of them was your sister. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, they called you over.

Natasha looked at you with her trademark poker face, her hands resting behind her back. “Congratulations, Bishop. You’ve passed the probationary training. Deputy Director Hill will contact you within 48 hours with your first mission. You're officially an Avenger.”

“Are you serious right now? Oh my God, thank you!” you shouted, excitement coursing through you as you wrapped your arms around the redhead in pure joy.

Kate’s eyes widened in shock, and she instinctively waved her hands, shaking her head furiously. Realizing your mistake, you quickly pulled away from The Black Widow.

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” you stammered, noticing a few strands of her hair had escaped her ponytail. You instinctively reached out to fix it, as Nat’s expression remained stoic.

Clint rubbed a hand down his face, a mix of admiration and exasperation in his eyes. “Why don't you hit the showers now, Y/N?”

“Right!" You replied as you climbed out of the ring. You gave Clint a quick peck on the cheek and Kate a high-five before running out of the gym. 

In your rush to leave, you completely missed the worried expression across your sister's face.

*^~^*

"You need to relax, Kate Bishop," Yelena said, slowly stirring a bubbling pot of Mac and Cheese on the compound kitchen stove.

Perched on the kitchen island, Kate murmured, “She’s my sister. All I want to do is keep her safe.”

Yelena raised an eyebrow, her tone laced with teasing and seriousness. “If she weren't ready, MY sister wouldn’t have passed her.”

Kate nodded slowly, her chin resting on her forearms as she considered Yelena's words. “That makes sense, I suppose,” she admitted, her uncertainty lingering. “It’s just that we’re all each other has left.”

Yelena offered the archer a warm, empathetic smile. “Here, eat something,” the blonde said, sliding a steaming bowl of macaroni and cheese across the counter as she settled in across from Kate. “The bottom line is simple: Y/N has done the work and aced her training with flying colors. You’ve got to shift your perspective. Stop seeing her as your little sister who needs protecting, and start recognizing her as she is now—a full-fledged Avenger who could karate kick your ass into next week.”

Kate couldn't help but smile softly as memories washed over her. You supported each other through your numerous archery and karate competitions. Those moments stood out even more against your parents’ constant struggles, whether their arguments about money or their focus on schmoozing Bishop Security clients. Amid it all, you were each other's anchors, offering comfort and understanding when the world around you felt chaotic.

“Thank you, Yelena. Your words were helpful,” Kate said gratefully.

“Of course, they were. I’m a very helpful person. Now eat your macaroni before it gets cold.” Yelena insisted. 

*^~^*

The following day dawned crisp and bright, with a gentle breeze rustling the leaves in the nearby trees. Kate stood on the archery course, a place she had eagerly convinced Tony to construct just for her, determined as she nocked another arrow onto the string. The vibrant colors of the fletching danced in the sunlight as she focused intently on her target, a bullseye set at a distance that challenged even the most skilled archers. 

She drew the bowstring back with practiced precision, feeling the familiar tension build in her muscles. As she released the arrow, it soared through the air with a whisper, striking the target with a satisfying thud. Her marksmanship was exceptional, though she knew well that Hawkeye only rivaled it. As usual, he had conveniently found an excuse to avoid training with her this cold Sunday morning. He had made a fuss about his hearing aid being on the fritz, a plausible excuse that always seemed to emerge when the weather turned chilly. 

Even after her heart-to-heart with Yelena, Kate couldn’t quite shake the anxiety that twisted in her stomach at the thought of you taking on the mantle of an Avenger. Still, she refused to let it get the better of her. Determined, she stepped up to the archery line, drew back her bowstring, and lined up another shot. 

"Kit Kat!" you shouted, echoing through the clearing. 

Caught off guard, the archer let out a surprised yelp, sending the arrow soaring into the sky. It arced gracefully before plunging into the shadows at the forest's edge, a soft thud marking its landing among the trees.

As Kate turned around, she shot you a glance so flat and unimpressed it could’ve turned stone to dust.

“I’m sorry!” you exclaimed, breathless with excitement. “But, I’ve been looking everywhere for you. I just came from my meeting with Deputy Director Hill. My first mission is tomorrow! Me, Natasha, and Wanda—talk about girl power.” You couldn’t help but grin as you held up your briefing packet.

Kate nervously rubbed the back of her neck. “Right, girl power.” She agreed hesitantly, her excitement tempered by concern. “Look, Y/N. I don’t want to be patronizing, but are you sure you’re ready?”

Your brow furrowed at your sister’s words. “What do you mean?”

Kate sighed, putting down her bow. “I mean, a real mission in the field is a whole different ballgame than hitting the gym.”

“I crushed my training, Kate! You saw it yourself—Natasha said I was ready. Hell, even Clint thought I was good to go!” you shot back, frustration bubbling beneath the surface.

She let out a heavy sigh, her eyes softening. “I’m just saying it would ease my mind if you took a little more time to prepare.”

You couldn't hold back the exasperation. “What have I been doing for the last two years? Learning to make balloon animals?” 

“Hey, don’t lose your cool,” Kate warned. “I just want what's best for you, Y/N.”

“This isn’t about you, Kate! Seriously, this is so typical of you,” you snapped, turning to leave. 

But your sister wasn’t having it. She tightened her grip on your arm, pulling you back. “Wait a minute. What does that even mean?”

“When Dad passed away, you started hovering over me because Mom was too busy to give a shit. When she ended up in jail, it felt like everything shifted. Suddenly, it was no longer about our needs but what you wanted.”

“I’m just trying to protect you, Y/N!” Kate's voice echoed with desperation.

“Wake up, Kate! I don’t need your protection—I need you to step aside and let me live my own life!” you shot back, your frustration boiling over. 

The tension crackled between you, each word ringing with the weight of unspoken truths.

“Then what the hell are you even doing here, Y/N? You're not living your life; you're living mine. It’s pathetic!” Kate shouted.

The moment Kate uttered those words, a wave of regret washed over her, and she desperately wished she could rewind time and take them back. She watched as your expression transformed, the light in your eyes dimming and your lips pressing into a tight line—a look of disappointment and hurt that struck her like a lightning bolt. It was a face she had never encountered before that spoke volumes about the pain her words had caused. The silence that followed felt unbearable. You turned and walked away without saying another word.

*^~^*

Kate lay in bed, the sheets twisted around her restless legs as she tossed and turned, haunted by the weight of her words. Guilt gnawed at her insides like an insistent tide, refusing to ebb. She texted you before bed, but your lack of response was deafening and left her feeling even worse. 

As dawn broke, she sprang out of bed. She hurriedly dressed, her heart pounding with anxiety and hope as she ran outside. Her breath caught in her throat when she finally reached the landing pad. There you were, standing a short distance away, the morning light casting a warm glow around you. It was the first time Kate had seen you in your new Avengers suit. The design was sleek and streamlined, hugging your body with a predominantly blue and gold color scheme that exuded power and sophistication. The garment was meticulously segmented, each section allowing maximum flexibility, essential for agile movements. 

As she looked closer, she noticed the intricate patterns of visible circuitry that ran along your limbs, pulsating softly with a faint blue glow. The micro-thrusters were another striking feature, strategically placed to provide enhanced mobility and quick bursts of speed. When you flexed your arms, the retractable energy gauntlets shimmered to life. It had Tony Stark’s fingerprints all over it.

Natasha spotted Kate first and strode over to her, her eyes narrowing as she caught the brunette’s distracted gaze. You were conversing with Wanda when Nat crossed her arms and pointedly looked at Kate. 

“I knew you’d show up,” Natasha remarked, trying to sound casual but failing to mask her seriousness. “It took all night for me to pry out what went down between you two yesterday from Y/N.”

Kate opened her mouth to respond, but Nat quickly raised her hand to interrupt. “Listen, your sibling relationship with Y/N is your affair, but sowing doubt in her mind right before a mission? That’s my business because it jeopardizes her and the whole team.”

“I know; I’m sorry,” Kate said, her voice barely above a whisper as she looked down.

Natasha sighed, the conflict evident on her face. “The Black Widow wants to be furious, but as an older sister, I get it. When I found Yelena, all I wanted to do was keep her safe—something I didn’t manage to do when we were younger.”

The brunette caught the empathetic smile on Natasha’s face. With a nod, she stepped aside, granting Kate the space to approach you. 

You noticed your sister approaching from behind in the shimmering reflection of the Quinjet windows. 

“What do you want, Katherine?” you asked, a hint of pettiness in your tone. You knew that using her full name always ruffled her feathers. “I’m a bit busy here.”

Kate let out an exasperated sigh. “I wanted to,” she hesitated, searching for the right words, “I wanted to apologize for yesterday. It was unfair of me to say you weren’t ready for missions.”

“Yes, it was,” you said matter-of-factly.

“Be gracious,” Wanda said with a fake cough, her eyes lingering on the mission file in her hands as if it were the most captivating thing in the world.

“I appreciate your concern, but I’m not ready to forgive you just yet,” you shot back, gripping your duffel bag tightly. “I understand why you did what you did, but I can handle myself just fine.” With that, you took a determined stride up the ramp of the Quinjet, the engines humming softly in the background.

"Okay, that wasn’t the most gracious response,” Wanda remarked. “Don’t worry, Kate. She’ll come around,” she assured, gently resting a hand on the archer’s shoulder.

“I hope so,” Kate murmured

“Just give her some time,” Natasha reassured gently. “We’ll be back tomorrow.”

Kate nodded somberly, her expression filled with sadness and acceptance. She went inside, unable to watch as the Quinjet's engines roared to life, the aircraft began to lift off the ground, and the engines' roar faded into the distance.

*^~^*

“I can’t believe I was so stupid.” Kate reflected, her thoughts swirling as she sat upside down in the chair, her legs propped in the air. Her head dangling near the ground, hair spilling around her like a dark halo. She stared at the ceiling, lost in her mind. “Y/N has dedicated just as much time and effort to training as I have, and she’s a Black belt, for God’s sake. Who am I to decide she isn’t ready for this? It just doesn’t make sense, does it?”

Lucky tilted his head to the side, a puzzled look crossing his expressive face as he tried to understand Kate's words. After a moment of contemplation, he seemed to dismiss the confusion entirely and, with a playful spark in his eye, began to lick her face affectionately. 

“Thanks for the support,” Kate said with a smirk as she sat right side up. 

That night, the brunette went to bed with the same uneasy feeling in her stomach that she had woken up with. Until the room's stillness was suddenly shattered by a frantic barrage of knocks on her door, jolting her from her restless sleep and pulling her back to the present.

“Who is it?” Kate asked, her voice shaking with a mixture of nervousness and sleep.

“It’s Ms. Belova. Shall I let her in?” FRIDAY replied.

“Yes, please,” Kate managed to say, though a knot tightened in her stomach.

In an instant, Yelena stormed into the bedroom, flicking on the light with a flair that left Kate squinting against the sudden brightness. Blinking rapidly, she glanced at the nightstand, where the clock ominously read 2:27 AM.

“What’s happening?” the brunette asked, her voice thick with confusion.

“Get up now,” Yelena commanded urgently, yanking the covers away from the archer. “The mission went south.”

“Went south? What does that even mean?” Kate stammered, still dazed as she tried to process the words.

Yelena met Kate’s gaze, her expression grave. “They’re rushing Y/N to the Med Bay.”

Kate felt a disorienting blankness wash over her as those words echoed in her mind. It was as if time had folded in on itself, and she was abruptly transported to the sterile, brightly lit Med Bay. She couldn't recall getting dressed or even how she'd arrived, her memory shrouded in a heavy fog.

Just as she pieced together her surroundings, a stretcher barreled through the swinging doors, causing her heart to lurch. There, lying motionless, was your bloodied body, a sight that froze her in place. Panic surged through her as Dr. Cho's urgent voice pierced the air, calling for immediate assistance. 

Natasha and Wanda flanked the stretcher, their faces marred with cuts and bruises, evidence of the battle they'd just endured. Natasha’s usually fierce expression was clouded with worry, while Wanda's eyes glistened with unshed tears.

“What happened?” Yelena’s voice trembled as she rushed to Nat’s side, fear etched across her face.  

“Bad intel,” Nat gasped, her breath coming in ragged bursts. “Hydra was lying in wait. We were completely outmanned. Y/N… Y/N jumped in front of Wanda just as one of them pulled a gun from behind.” 

Kate’s heart raced as she sprinted towards the double doors, desperate to follow your stretcher. But a nurse blocked her path, arms crossed firmly. “You can’t go in there, Ms. Bishop,” she insisted. 

“Like hell, I can’t! That's my sister!” Kate shouted, her voice breaking as tears streamed down her face. 

Yelena quickly wrapped her arms around the archer, steadying her as her legs gave out. “You need to stay strong,” she whispered, fighting back her emotions.

The nurse sighed, her expression softening. “We’re going to do everything we can,” she promised before rushing into the Operating Room.

Yelena guided Kate to a nearby chair as the rest of the team began to trickle in. Clint moved to Natasha, concern etched on his face, but she waved him off, dismissing his worry. Kate was hunched over, her head buried in her hands, her knees shaking nervously.

“Hey, kid,” Clint said softly, kneeling before his protege.

Slowly, Kate lowered her hands, revealing tear-streaked cheeks that glistened in the overhead light.

“It’s going to be okay. Y/N is a fighter,” Clint reassured her, his voice steady and calm.

As he wrapped her in a warm embrace, Kate sniffled and wiped her tears away. “I just knew she wasn’t ready,” she whispered, vulnerability spilling alongside her exhaustion.

“No," Wanda’s voice rang out, piercing the tense atmosphere in the room. "Y/N was ready. She was nothing short of brilliant out there."

Nat nodded, her expression serious. "Absolutely. She single-handedly took down eight Hydra agents. It was incredible."

Wanda’s eyes glistened with tears as she continued, "She saved my life... without a second thought."

*^~^*

As the hours dragged on with no word on your condition, silence enveloped the waiting room, punctuated only by the occasional shuffle of feet and murmurs of hushed conversations. The atmosphere was tense, and everyone did their best to cope with the uncertainty. With his steadfast optimism, Steve tried to lift the mood, hoping to bring a smile to weary faces. Tony immersed himself in his work, methodically sketching out intricate designs for new weapon upgrades, and the rhythmic sound of his pencil scratching against paper was a symphony of focused determination.

Maria, unable to remain still, paced anxiously, her voice rising and falling as she spoke urgently into her phone, updating Fury. The tension in her shoulders revealed her struggle to maintain composure. Natasha sat nearby, her pen swiftly moving across the pages of her mission report, a deliberate distraction from the anxiety clawing at her insides. The tedious paperwork was a fragile shield, keeping her thoughts from spiraling into chaos. Wanda seemed adrift in a sea of her thoughts, grappling with the guilt of your sacrifice. 

Meanwhile, Kate's gaze was locked onto the OR doors, her heart racing with every passing moment. She clutched Clint’s hand tightly, silently begging someone to emerge from behind those sterile doors with good news. Each second felt like an eternity, and with every tick of the clock, her hope hung by a thread, praying that she would hear the words she so desperately needed to hear: that you would be okay.

Finally, as the moonlight streaming through the windows began to fade to early morning, Dr. Cho stepped into the waiting room, drawing the attention of everyone present. “Ms. Bishop?” 

Kate rose slowly from her seat, her heart racing as she struggled to read the doctor’s expression, which held the weight of the room’s anxious eyes.

“Y/N is in serious but stable condition,” Dr. Cho began, her voice steady yet solemn. “She sustained two gunshot wounds—one in the thigh and the other in the chest. She lost a significant amount of blood, but she was fortunate; the first shot narrowly missed the femoral artery, and the second was a through-and-through.” 

“Thank God,” Clint breathed, relief washing over him.

Kate exhaled slowly. “May I see her?” she asked, her voice trembling as she brushed a tear away from her cheek.

Dr. Cho nodded gently. “Yes, she’s still asleep, but you may sit with her if you’d like.”

“Thank you, Dr. Cho,” Kate said, her voice tinged with appreciation as she turned to face the rest of the team. 

“Take your time, Kate. We’ll be right here,” Steve encouraged.

As Kate approached your room, she took a deep breath, her hand hovering over the door handle for a moment, gathering her courage. When she finally pushed the door open, the sight before she stole her breath away. Tears brimmed in her eyes again as she took in the scene: there you were, fragile yet fighting. A nasal cannula rested gently against your pale skin, and the stark white of your hospital gown was marred with bandages, hints of dried blood peeking through around your chest and left leg—reminders of the bullet wounds that had brought you here.

Your sister settled into the chair beside your bedside. Tentatively, she reached out, her hand hovering above yours, afraid that even the slightest touch might shatter you even more. Finally, she gently wrapped her fingers around yours, carefully avoiding the maze of wires and the IV that connected you to the machines around you. With a sigh, Kate rested her head on the cool edge of your bed, her breath syncing with the rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor. She closed her eyes and drifted away as the soft beeps filled the room.

Twenty minutes later, you groaned as consciousness began to creep back in, the bright hospital lights stabbing at your senses. Pain coursed through you, a stark reminder of the chaos that had unfolded. As the memories washed over you—leaping in front of Wanda, shielding her from the Hydra agent's relentless gunfire in that not-so-abandoned base. 

You glanced down and felt a warm, familiar grip in your hand. Turning slowly, you found your older sister, her face soft in sleep, resting beside your bed. Seeing her grounded you in the moment as you held onto her hand.

Your throat felt as dry as sandpaper, but you managed to croak, “Kate… Kate.”

The brunette stirred groggily, her eyes widening in shock as she caught sight of your open gaze. With a sudden burst of energy, she shot up, her expression a blend of relief and concern. 

“Oh my God, you’re awake!” Kate exclaimed, her voice a mix of joy and disbelief. She brushed a stray lock of hair from her face and leaned closer, placing a gentle hand on your cheek. 

“How are you feeling?” she asked, her eyes searching yours for answers.

You whined as the sharp pain surged back, forcing a rasp from your lips. “Like I got shot,” you replied, the words barely making it out. “Twice.”

“Hey, Y/N, listen to me,” your sister said, her voice steady and reassuring. “You’re going to be okay, I promise. We’ll get through this together.”

Your lip trembled, and you felt hot tears pooling in your eyes. 

“What’s wrong?” Kate scanned your body, searching for the source of your pain. “Do you want me to call Dr. Cho?”

“No,” you replied quickly, your voice shaky. “It’s not that... I just—” You hesitated mid-sentence, a wave of pain crashing over you. “I’m so sorry, Kate. I know you were only trying to protect me.”

“Let’s not do this right now, Y/N,” she urged, her tone gentle as she attempted to steady you.

“No, please,” you pressed, determination overcoming your distress. “I shouldn’t have acted like a jerk when you were just trying to apologize.”

“It’s my fault, too; I shouldn’t have said you weren't ready,” Kate admitted, her gaze softening.

“Well, guess what? You were right,” you replied, tears rolling down your cheeks. “I failed.”

Kate’s expression shifted to one of disbelief. “What? No, Y/N! You didn’t fail. Nat and Wanda both said you were brilliant out there.

Panic surged again, as you remembered. “Wanda— is she okay?”

“She’s perfectly fine,” Kate assured you, a reassuring smile on her face. “You saved her life.”

“Thank God,” you said, feeling overwhelmed with emotion.

Then, if on cue, with a grace that was unmistakably Wanda, she stepped into the room and wrapped her arms around you in a gentle embrace. The warmth of her body was comforting, but you couldn’t help wincing at the pain that shot through you as you returned her hug. Despite that discomfort, you held her close.

“Thank you, Y/N. I won’t forget this,” Wanda whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

“You did good, Y/N,” Nat said, leaning on the door frame. Her voice was steady, and her lips curled into a small, proud smile.

“I just did what I was trained to do,” you declared, your voice steady but laced with uncertainty.

Kate met your gaze, her expression firm and unwavering. “You did what any true Avenger would do,” she corrected.

"I learned from the best," you said with heartfelt appreciation, grasping your sister's hand tightly. "You’ve always been my greatest teacher.”

[sycamorelibrary754]

Reblog if you're okay with receiving asks for backstory info on any/all of your fics.

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[sycamorelibrary754]

New Year, New Family

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Platonic Reader, Avengers x Platonic Reader

Summary: It’s been a year since Wanda Maximoff joined the Avengers. You and the team gather at the compound to ring in the New Year until the fireworks trigger past trauma for the young redhead. 

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: Mentions of PTSD, flashbacks, and death.

Word Count: 2.4k

A/N: Happy New Year! This story is set after Avengers: Age of Ultron but before Captain America: Civil War. 

“Come on, it’ll be fun!” Peter urged, his enthusiasm bubbling over.

You took a reluctant break from the carefully bandaging his wrist, lifting your gaze to meet his hopeful eyes. “No, Pete. I’m not a New Year’s Eve person, and I certainly can’t picture myself celebrating amidst Earth’s Mightiest Heroes.”

Peter raised an eyebrow, his persistence unwavering. “You mean your friends?”

“At work, sure, they’re friends,” you clarified, “but at one of Tony’s over-the-top parties, with a guest list longer than the Great Wall of China, they become Earth’s Mightiest Heroes.” 

“But this year is different!” Peter countered, showing you the invitation. “There’s no extravagant bash planned! Ms. Potts convinced Tony that those wild parties were a distraction. It will just be the team, I promise. Please, Y/N?”

With a heavy sigh, you relented, “Fine, I’ll go.”

“Yes!” Peter beamed, his grin contagious. “I’ll let Ms. Potts know you’re coming!” And in an instant, he darted for the door, barely avoiding a collision with your desk as he sprinted out, an unmistakable smile plastered on his face.

*^~^*

"Office hours.” That was the nickname you came up with when the Big Green guy was off on one mission or another, leaving you in charge of his lab. After the chaos with Ultron, Bruce vanished without a trace, slipping entirely off the grid. As a result, office hours have become a permanent feature. You clung to the hope that he would return. Your eyes were glued to a microscope when a familiar voice broke through the moment. “Knock knock.”

You turned to see Wanda framed in the doorway, her fiery red hair glinting in the light and a hand pressed against her left ribcage. “Hey, Wanda, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

She stepped inside with a hint of urgency in her voice. “I was wondering if you could look at my side. The last mission was brutal—I took a hard fall, and I think I might have cracked a rib. The Med Bay is packed to the brim, so if you're busy, I totally understand, but…” 

“Wanda,” you interjected, concern creeping into your voice. “Just sit down for a moment.”

“FRIDAY, could you check Ms. Maximoff’s vitals and run a full body scan, please?” you requested, you tended to the visible injuries that marked her skin.

“Certainly, Dr. Y/L/N,” FRIDAY responded promptly. “Vitals are strong, with no signs of internal bleeding detected. However, a hairline fracture of the sixth rib is present.” 

“Looks like you got lucky, Maximoff,” you smirked.

“How do you figure?” Wanda asked, her Sokovian accent slipping through ever so slightly as she winced. 

“You came all the way down here instead of heading to the Med Bay. Luckily, we have that extra Regeneration Cradle that Dr. Banner uses right here. Just thirty minutes in there, and you’ll feel as good as new,” you said, your voice filled with encouragement.

Wanda's eyes lit up with hope. “Are you sure Bruce won’t mind?”

You offered a solemn grin. "I'll handle the fallout when he returns. For now, let’s make sure you’re taken care of."

As Wanda reclined on the cradle bench, you leaned in, determined to distract her from the pain. “So, tell me, are you enjoying being an Avenger? Well, minus this moment, of course,” you added with a playful grin.

She glanced up at you, a smile tugging at her lips. “It’s been a mixed bag,” she admitted. “But honestly, it’s gotten easier over the past year. Being part of this team, being here—it means a lot.”

“Has it been a year already? It feels like time zooms by,” you mused, shaking your head in disbelief.

“It does,” she replied, her expression turning thoughtful. “Still, some things linger… they never truly fade away.”

As you promised, the Cradle worked its magic, and within half an hour, the sharp pain plaguing Wanda completely faded away. Her rib knit back together as if it had never been injured in the first place. She had to remember this thing was down here more often, tucked away as it was in the corner of the lab.

“Feeling better?” you inquired, your voice laced with genuine concern.

“Completely, thank you,” Wanda replied, her smile relieved. 

You waved her off with a grin, “Anytime, Maximoff.”

As she slipped her coat back on, a curiosity caught her eye, drawing her attention to Peter's glimmering invitation to the New Year’s Eve celebration carelessly left on your desk. With a flick of her wrist and a flourish of her red magic, the card gracefully soared through the air and landed in her hand.

“Are we going to be graced by the honor of your presence on New Year’s Eve?” Wanda teased, a playful smirk dancing on her lips.

You rolled your eyes at her playful banter. “Yes,” you confirmed, your tone light but resigned. “Only because Peter is annoyingly persistent.”

“Oh, come on. It’ll be fun,” Wanda urged as she stepped closer. “I’m not one for big, noisy parties either.”

You couldn’t help but smirk in response. “It’s a far cry from a typical Tony Stark party.”

“Consider it a refreshing change of pace,” she replied, giving your shoulder a friendly pat as she made her way past you, her vibrant energy trailing in her wake.

“See you later, Y/N,” she called over her shoulder, her voice echoing with a playful lilt as she left the lab.

*^~^*

On New Year’s Eve, you quickly stopped at the charming little store on the corner. Your eyes were drawn to a stunning purple orchid. Next to it, a bottle of bubbly champagne caught your attention, the golden label glimmering under the soft store lights. 

It felt peculiar to buy a gift for someone who seemed to have everything, yet your mother's words echoed in your mind: Never show up to a party without a host gift. Besides, you knew Pepper would appreciate the thoughtfulness behind your gesture.

As you stepped into the bustling common room of the Avengers Compound, the savory aroma of sizzling burgers and hot dogs wafted through the air. Steve was at the helm of the indoor grill, flipping patties and bratwursts. In one corner, Thor animatedly spun tales of wild Asgardian New Year's Eve celebrations, his booming laughter echoing around the room. Nearby, Natasha and Clint were locked in a tense game of pool, their playful banter peppered with competitive jabs.

“Y/N!” Pepper called out, her eyes lighting up as she spotted you across the room, with Tony following closely behind. “What a stunning orchid! Thank you so much,” she exclaimed, graciously taking the plant from your hands.

“Even better, what about this gorgeous bottle of champagne?” Tony chimed in with a playful grin. “Let’s pop it!”

As Vision extended his hand to take your coat and scarf, Peter dashed over, his excitement radiating as he presented a vibrant, multicolored party hat. “See? I told you it would be just the team!” he exclaimed.

Looking down at the hat, you chuckled and asked, “Do I have to wear this?”

“Yes,” Sam declared confidently, while Rhodey firmly asserted, “No,” at the exact moment.

The warm, inviting aroma of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies wrapped around you like a cozy blanket as you entered the kitchen. There, in the heart of it all, was Wanda, standing under the soft kitchen lights as she expertly arranged a tray of cookies.

“Hey, Maximoff. Happy New Year’s Eve!” you called out.

“Thank you, Y/N. Would you like to try one?” She held out a cookie, the chocolate chips glistening from the oven's heat. “It’s my special recipe, just baked.”

You didn’t need to be asked twice. Snatching one from the tray, you took a hearty bite, the soft, chewy texture melting in your mouth. “Wanda, this is delicious!”

“I know,” she said with a playful smirk.

After indulging in a lavish New Year’s Eve dinner featuring perfectly grilled steak, vibrant roasted vegetables, and creamy garlic mashed potatoes, everyone gathered outside on the Compound dock to watch fireworks.

The night sky over upstate New York twinkled like a jewel-encrusted canvas, each star shining brightly against the deep indigo backdrop. Wrapped snugly in the fluffiest blanket, you nestled closer to Wanda, feeling a warm cocoon of comfort between the chilly air and the soft fabric. Tony pulled up the live stream of Times Square, the bustling energy of the crowd pulsating through the screen. The iconic ball began its descent as you started the countdown.

“3, 2, 1, HAPPY NEW YEAR!” everyone shouted. 

In the distance, the night sky erupted with a brilliant fireworks display, each explosion painting the heavens with vibrant red, blue, and gold hues. The dazzling lights flickered and shimmered, casting a mesmerizing reflection on the tranquil surface of the lake below, where the water mirrored the kaleidoscopic bursts in a breathtaking dance of color. The crackling sounds echoed through the air as you and the team took in the spectacle. 

“Isn’t it beautiful, Maximoff?” you murmured, gently nudging Wanda with your elbow. But she didn’t respond.

Her gaze was fixed on the horizon, her eyes wide with a distant fear. You could see her breath growing shallow as panic began to creep in.

“Wanda, are you alright?” you asked, concern lacing your voice.

The rest of the team quickly noticed the tension, some exchanging worried glances, unsure how to intervene.

Before you could say another word, Wanda sprang to her feet, urgency radiating from her. “I have to go! It’s not safe here; the bombs are coming!”

“Red, listen to me,” Tony said cautiously, taking a few steps toward her. “You’re alright.”

“No! It’s your fault!” Wanda shouted at Tony, her voice trembling as she retreated, close to stumbling into the lake’s edge. “Where’s Pietro? I have to protect him!”

“Wanda,” Natasha called out gently, her hands up in a placating gesture. “You’re not in Sokovia anymore. You’re at the Avengers Compound.”

“Don’t touch me!” Wanda screamed, her hands igniting with a crimson glow, pulsating with the raw emotion that threatened to overflow.

“Wanda,” you said gently, stepping before your friend, blocking out the storm in her mind. “You’re having a flashback, but you’re safe now.”

As tears streamed down her cheeks, your heart ached for the redhead. You took a slow, steady step closer. “Let’s take some deep breaths together. Just follow my lead.”

With each inhale and exhale, you felt her breathing begin to sync with yours. “You’re doing amazing,” you encouraged, extending your hand toward her. After a moment of hesitation, Wanda took your hand, gripping it tightly as she breathed deeply.

“Can you tell me what you see around you?” you coaxed, keeping your voice calm and steady.

Wanda blinked away her tears and glanced around, her voice barely a whisper. “The lake, the dock… the compound… the trees… you.” 

“Perfect,” you reassured her, a small smile breaking through the tension.

"How about we head inside for a bit?" you suggested softly, reassuringly smiling.

"Okay," she replied, her eyes brightening at the idea.

With that, you wrapped a comforting arm around her shoulder as you headed for the compound. 

“Take your time,” Sam urged, a reassuring smile on his face as the rest of the team nodded in agreement, their eyes filled with understanding.

You led Wanda into the room, gently guiding her to the couch. A hush enveloped the space as you sat beside her—an unspoken agreement to give her the time she needed.

After a heavy silence, she finally broke the stillness. “This has happened before, you know,” she said, her voice trembling slightly. “Loud noises, bright flashes. I’m ten years old again, curled under the table with Pietro, waiting for Stark’s missile to kill us. Just like it did to my parents.”

You listened with focused attention, every word resonating in the stillness. “Wanda, I’m truly sorry for what you’ve endured. I can't even fathom your pain. But please know this—no matter what your mind is whispering, you’re safe here.”

A tremor of regret laced her voice. “I ruined New Year’s Eve. I feel so broken inside.”

You leaned in closer, determined to comfort her. “Wanda, you haven’t ruined anything, and you’re not broken. What you’re feeling is your mind’s way of shielding you from past hurts,” you said gently. “Have you considered speaking with someone? Sam runs a fantastic group for veterans dealing with PTSD. I know he would welcome you warmly.”

“No group therapy,” Wanda declared with a determined look.

“Understood,” you replied thoughtfully. “But I’m sure Sam would be open to meeting with you one-on-one, or he could help you find someone else. And if you need to talk, I’m just down the hall.”

“Really?” Wanda’s gaze softened as she searched your face for sincerity. You nodded reassuringly. “Thank you, Y/N. Are you sure I wouldn't be a bother?”

“I’m practically all alone in the lab these days, so your company would be a breath of fresh air,” you replied, giving her a friendly smile.

Wanda tilted her head with curiosity. “You miss Bruce?”

“Very much,” you sighed, the weight of your words hanging in the air. “After finishing medical school, I had the privilege of studying under Dr. Banner. I’ve been a part of this band of misfits from the moment Natasha found him in that remote hut in India. My life has felt a bit empty without him around.”

Wanda’s expression softened, and she gently touched your shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

“Thanks,” you said quietly, appreciating her empathy. “And just so you know, I mean it when I say you’re always welcome to come and talk to me about anything.”

The redhead wrapped her arms around you in an unexpected embrace, catching you off guard. You instinctively settled your chin on her shoulder, returning the hug with warmth and gratitude.

As moments passed in this intimate bubble, the rest of the team filtered back inside, a rush of cold air swirling around them. You could sense their concern, their eyes darting toward Wanda, eager to check her well-being.

From that day forward, your lab door stood open for Wanda Maximoff—a welcoming space where she could let her guard down and start to heal. You felt a reassuring certainty that everything would be alright as long as she embraced her new family. What you hadn’t yet come to realize, however, was that the Avengers were your family, too—woven into the fabric of your life in ways you had yet to fully understand.

[sycamorelibrary754]

Guardian Angel

Chapter 14: Sparky

Summary: You and Wanda nervously await the team's word on the San Francisco mission analysis. Meanwhile, you deepen your bond with Billy, Tommy, and a new furry friend. 

Warnings: None

Word Count: 2k

A/N: I know Sparky was originally in WandaVision, but go with me on this. ☺️

Guardian Angel Masterlist

The soft, persistent knocking at your bedroom door stirred you from sleep. You blinked against the bright morning light filtering through the curtains, gathering your thoughts. Wrapped in warmth, you felt Wanda’s arms draped comfortably around your midsection.

“Do you hear that?” you mumbled, your voice thick with sleep.

“Not unless you do,” Wanda replied, her words muffled by the comforterer.

You considered the possibility of staying cocooned in your dreams. “What if we just pretend we’re still asleep? Do you think they’ll go away?”

“Mom!” came Billy's unmistakable call, followed by Tommy's spirited “Y/N!”

“Not likely,” Wanda said with a wry smile, half-buried in her pillow.

With a resigned sigh, you raked a hand through your messy hair, knowing the game was up. “Alright, come in, boys.”

“Look what we found!” Tommy exclaimed as he opened the door to reveal Billy holding a tan and white wire-haired Jack Russell Terrier in his arms.

“Oh dear Lord,” the redhead said. “Where on Earth did that dog come from?”

“We found him out front,” Billy said, stroking the dog's head.

“Yeah, we looked out the window and saw him curled up in the driveway,” Tommy explained. “He has no collar or tags. Can we keep him, Mom? Please!”

“No way, boys. A dog is a huge responsibility,” Wanda replied.

“We can be responsible, Mom,” Billy pleaded, pouting his lower lip.

You couldn’t help but snicker at how the boys tried to persuade their mother. It would be impressive if it weren't so devious. 

Wanda made one last attempt to resist. “I’m sorry, you two, but if I remember correctly, Y/N is allergic to dogs.”

“No, I’m not,” you protested just as the redhead pinched you under the covers. “Ouch!” you squealed.

Wanda sighed heavily before looking at the boys. “Alright, but if you keep him, you must walk, feed, bathe, and play with him. Understand?”

“Yes!” the boys cheered in unison. “Come on, Sparky.”

You named him already?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.  

“Yeah, he looks like a Sparky,” Billy insisted.

“Can we take him to the park?” Tommy asked.

“Sure, sweetheart,” the redhead said, flopping back on the bed. 

Once the boys had left, Wanda playfully slapped the back of your head. “You couldn't just play along?”

“Sorry, babe,” you apologized.

“Mmhm,” Wanda hummed in response. “Just for that, you’ll take them to the park.”

“That’s fair,” you agreed, kissing her lips as you snuggled back into the warmth of the bed. “Any news from the team?”

“Honey, you’ve asked that everyday for the last week,” Wanda said comfortingly.

“I know, but the waiting is killing me,” you groaned. “All we know so far is that my parents think the security breach was a company rival.”

“I understand that you're nervous about what we might discover. I feel the same way, but that's part of the process; analysis requires time. I’m sure we will hear something soon. “Now,” the redhead said, touching your shoulder, “I believe you have a doggy date with the boys.”

“I’m going,” you huffed as you climbed out of bed. “What are you going to do while we're gone?”

“Y/N, it’s Saturday, and I’m the mother of two eleven-year-old boys. I’m going back to sleep,” Wanda smirked.

*^~^*

“Go get it, Sparky!” you yelled as you tossed the tennis ball across the grass.

The small dog ran as fast as his little legs could carry him, fetching the ball but refusing to give it up. Billy and Tommy tried unsuccessfully to grab the ball from him.

“Okay, so fetch needs a little work,” you admitted, rubbing the back of your neck.

Tommy picked up Sparky and super sped back over to you.

“Along with sit, stay, and come,” Billy added.

“Maybe we can find an obedience class for him,” you suggested.

Just then, your phone dinged with a new notification. Taking it out of your pocket, you saw a text from Maria that made your stomach lurch.

Maria Hill: New insights from San Francisco. Can you come by the compound today?

You: Yeah, we can be there this afternoon. I’m at the park with the boys.

Maria: Aww, look at you being all domestic.

You: Hey, I've seen you do the dishes, Hill.

Maria: Yes, but only because they would stack up to the ceiling if I left them for Nat. You, my friend, are whipped.

You: Touché.

Maria: See you later, Y/N.

“Should we swing by the pet store on our way home?” you asked, tucking your phone into your pocket.

“Yes!” both boys shouted, their eyes lighting up with excitement.

As you made your way to the parking lot, Billy and Tommy launched into a whirlwind of ideas, eagerly rattling off a list of everything they hoped to buy for Sparky. You couldn't help but grin at their infectious enthusiasm for a dog they'd only met a couple of hours ago. At that moment, it struck you how deeply you loved these boys.

“We love you, too, Y/N.” Billy beamed, his words warm and sincere.

You pulled him close, throwing an arm around his shoulders. “I’m still not used to mind-reading, but I’m glad you heard that.”

You were so caught up in the heartwarming moment that you missed the unsettling sight of two shadowy figures lurking in a van across the street. 

“Who are the two brats?” 

“Her sons. Y/F/N and Y/M/N can use this to their advantage.”

Their cameras clicked deliberately, capturing every laugh and smile that filled the air around you.

*^~^*

“I still don't understand what I'm looking at,” you said, your brow furrowing as you stared at the intricate holographic display projecting from the sleek desk. The three-dimensional blueprints rotated before you, revealing a complex array of lines and structures.

Tony leaned closer, his fingers deftly manipulating the hologram to zoom in on the various components. “This,” he explained, gesturing to the swirling visuals, “is the detailed blueprint for Onyx Petroleum’s underwater drilling system. Every rivet, every pipeline, is accounted for here.” 

He continued, bringing up additional graphics that highlighted the new technological features. “Based on what we’ve pieced together from this and the intelligence that Romanoff managed to extract from their servers, we have reason to believe they’ve already constructed a semi-submersible vessel. It’s designed to operate far below the surface and withstand extreme conditions.”

As the hologram switched views, the new hydraulic drill’s design emerged—a marvel of engineering equipped to reach unparalleled depths. “They aren’t just refurbishing what they have,” Tony said, his voice steady with conviction. “They’re developing a more powerful hydraulic drill capable of penetrating deeper into the ocean floor while withstanding the intense temperature fluctuations and pressure changes inherent to the Black Sea.” 

“Will it work?” you asked, glancing around the room at the team. 

“Unclear,” Maria interjected, her brow furrowed with concern as she studied the charts. “Our data is limited, and there are so many variables we can't predict.”

Bruce leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms as he considered the implications. “No one has ever mined for Vibranium before,” he stated, his tone laced with skepticism. “All the simulations they've run might look good on paper, but until they start drilling, it’s all theoretical. We could be dealing with something completely different. It’s like they’re using Monopoly money—no real value until they make it tangible.”

Wanda gently placed a reassuring hand on your back, her touch warm and steady. “What about the bug Scott planted in their office?” she asked.

“Nothing substantial has come through yet,” Natasha replied. “Just murmurs about stripping stock shares away from the employees.”

“They are truly unpleasant people,” Yelena muttered, her expression darkening.

“Okay,” you sighed, running a weary hand across your face. “Thanks for the update, everyone. If anything changes, call me.” 

“Wait, there’s one more thing before you go, Y/N,” Bucky interrupted. 

You raised an eyebrow. “Oh God, I’m almost afraid to ask.”

Steve stepped forward, his expression serious yet warm. “We wanted to acknowledge how tough it was for you to head to San Francisco and face your parents. That took real courage, Y/N. It's a genuine testament to your character.”

Clint jumped in, adding with a casual grin, “And we know you haven’t had a car since the accident. We figured it was high time to fix that.” He shot a conspiratorial glance at Tony.

“Right,” Tony said, shaking his head in mock exasperation as his fingers flew over the keyboard of the nearby computer.

With a soft whir, the metal doors behind you began to rise, gradually unveiling a stunning maroon Acura NSX Roadster that gleamed under the lights.

You gaped, confusion written all over your face. “I don’t get it…” You searched the room for an explanation, landing on Wanda, who looked equally bewildered.

“It’s yours!” Kate exclaimed, barely able to contain her excitement, a wide grin on her face.

Tony smiled, “Pepper’s been on my case about trimming down my car collection, and honestly, I can’t think of anyone more deserving of a new ride than you.” With that, he placed the keys into your palm with a flourish.

For a moment, you stood there, disbelief coursing through you. “Wow, I don't know what to say. This is so generous.”

“I made some modifications, boosted the GPS, and installed FRIDAY for you. Trust me, this car is now safer than Buckingham Palace,” Tony smirked.

“Thank you so much,” you said, wrapping your arms around Stark in appreciation before turning to Wanda. “Can you believe this?”

“I really can't,” the redhead replied, kissing you softly. “The boys are going to want a ride in it.”

“I don't doubt it,” you said with a smile.

*^~^*

“Please, can we take a ride in your new car?” Tommy exclaimed, his eyes wide with excitement.

“Yeah, please!” Billy chimed in, practically bouncing on his toes. 

Wanda walked past you at the kitchen island, her lips curling into a sly smirk as she reached for her favorite mug. The playful taunt flashed through your mind: “Told you.”

You shot back, grinning, “Your motherly instincts are unbeatable.”

“Listen, how about this,” you announced, ruffling the boys' hair. “Winter break starts next week, right? Why don’t the two of you come to help me out at the Candy Bar? We always have a crazy holiday rush, and I could use the extra hands. Plus, you can take a spin in my new ride,” you leaned in closer and dropped your voice to a conspiratorial whisper, “and snag some free candy.”

“What was that?” Wanda interjected, arching an eyebrow, clearly intrigued by your secretive tone with the boys.

“Nothing at all,” you replied, flashing a mischievous smile as you fist-bumped Billy and Tommy before they dashed excitedly back to Sparky in the family room. 

Wanda chuckled, shaking her head. “You don’t have to bring the boys along. They can be a handful on most days but in a candy shop? Good luck!”

“I know, but I want to,” you insisted, pulling Wanda into a side embrace, a sense of warmth enveloping you both.

With a soft smile, she placed her hand on your chest, her eyes sparkling. “Have I reminded you lately how much I love you?”

You glanced at your imaginary watch with a teasing grin. “Not in the last ten minutes,” you quipped.

“Thank you for loving Billy and Tommy as much as I do,” Wanda said, her sincerity shining through.

You met her gaze earnestly. “I love all three of you.”

Sparky’s bark broke the moment as he lounged on the couch.

“Okay, all four of you, Sparky,” you corrected with a laugh. “If it isn't clear by now, I want to be a part of this family, and I want the boys to feel at home with me.”

Wanda leaned in, sharing a soft, loving kiss that made the world around you fade away. In that blissful instant, you barely registered the sounds of Billy and Tommy dramatically pretending to gag in the background. For all the worries about your parents’ plans, one thing was clear: you were truly, unapologetically happy. 

Taglist: @xxxtwilightaxelxxx@bibliophilicbi@darkstar225

[sycamorelibrary754]

I’m in the mood to write some stand-alone stories about Wanda. I'd love to hear if anyone has requests for fluffy or comfort one-shots. 🤗

[sycamorelibrary754]

Guardian Angel

Chapter 13: Open up your Golden Gate 

Summary: You, Natasha, Yelena, Sam, and Scott, carefully strategize your plan to infiltrate Onyx Petroleum Headquarters in San Francisco.

Warnings: Angst, combat fighting

Word Count: 5.2k

A/N: I hope you enjoy this new chapter. I'm excited about where the story is going!

Guardian Angel Masterlist

“Y/N, are you okay?” Your mother’s voice crackled through the phone. It had been ages since you last heard it. “We just found out about your accident! Why didn’t you call us?”

“What? How did you?” you began, but you thought better. You sighed and rubbed your forehead as the memories flooded back. “That was months ago, Mom. I tried calling you several times, but you never picked up.”

“Nonsense, dear,” she countered. “I find that hard to believe.”

Exasperation washed over you as you ran a hand down your face. Wanda, seated beside you, gave your arm a reassuring squeeze.

“Okay, whatever. The point is, I’m fine now. Really,” you replied, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “I appreciate the concern, though.”

“How’s business at the Candy Bag?” she asked, a hint of distaste in her voice. 

“It’s called the Candy Bar, Mom,” you replied, feeling a familiar mix of exasperation and annoyance. “Things are going well. Harper stepped up a lot while I was recovering, but we’ve settled back into our routine now.”

“Harper?” Your mother’s tone shifted slightly. “You still socialize with that girl?”

“Yes, Mom,” you responded, trying to keep your voice steady despite the familiar irritation at her choice of words. “She’s not just ‘that girl’—Harper is my business partner.”

“Well,” your mom began, “I suppose that’s good for her. It gives her something to do.”

You bit your lip in frustration. “Yeah, I suppose so. I have to go, Mom. It's late here, and I was getting ready for bed.”

“Wait!” your mother protested. “It would be wonderful if you could visit us this week. You haven't been home in so long.”

You chuckled, masking your sarcasm. “I think there's a reason for that, Mom.”

“But it’s been ages since we have seen you,” she pressed.

You sighed, rubbing the back of your neck. “Oh, I don’t know. The shop’s been busy,” you said, glancing at Wanda, who was watching closely. “And I have a lot going on in my personal life.”

“Just think about it, darling,” she urged, her hopeful tone lingering.

“Alright, I’ll think about it,” you conceded, eager to wrap up the conversation by any means necessary.

“Marvelous! I won’t keep you any longer,” you said. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight, Mom.” Waiting for the familiar click of the call disconnecting before plopping back onto the bed.

“She sounds pleasant,” Wanda muttered.

“What are the chances my mom would reach out today?” you mused, staring at the ceiling as thoughts raced through your mind.

“Exactly what I was thinking,” Wanda said, propping herself up on one elbow as she settled beside you.

“My parents never lift a finger unless there's something in it for them. They are angling to force me into that Board of Directors meeting, just like when I was growing up,” you vented.

“But you’ve been out of that world for years. Why would they even care now?” Wanda probed.

“Honestly, I don’t know, but I refuse to give them the satisfaction. No way I’m playing their game,” you declared. 

*^~^*

“You have to go!” Tony urged, leaning across the compound kitchen table. 

You stared at him in disbelief. “What? No way!”

“The focus will be on you,” he explained. “We could gather more intel that we wouldn’t otherwise have access to.”

“But won’t that just complicate things?” you countered, looking for any reason to back down.

“Not to mention it’s dangerous,” Wanda chimed in, her grip tightening around your hand, a silent plea in her gaze.

“Not necessarily,” Sam jumped in. “If anything, you can make sure no one steps on Tic-Tac,” referring to Scott. 

“I resent that remark,” Scott murmured. 

“It’ll be okay, Y/N. We’ll be inside the walls the whole time,” Natasha reassured. 

You glanced at Nat and then looked over at Wanda. You didn't need her powers to know what she was thinking. 

Wanda turned to Steve, her eyes searching for guidance. "What do you think, Cap?" 

Steve met her gaze, his voice steady and reassuring. "It’s Y/N's decision.“

You looked around the room at Earth’s Mightiest Heroes. Six months ago, they were larger-than-life figures; now, they were your family. After everything you’ve been through, their belief in you was the only motivation you needed.

“I'll do it," you declared.

Wanda's brow furrowed with concern. "Are you sure about this?"

You nodded, a sense of determination settling in your bones. "I have to. My parents are hurting the woman I love. I can't just stand by and watch.”

*^~^*

“And this is your comms,” Maria said, holding up a device that looked almost impossibly small, like the size of a pea. “With this, you’ll have a direct line to the team—anytime, anywhere.”

You carefully placed the device in your left ear, feeling it snug perfectly into your ear. “So, my parents won’t see this at all?”

“Nope, nanotechnology! One of my greatest innovations. With any luck, they'll think you're talking to yourself,” Tony smirked, strolling into the lab with a flourish, a gift box in his hands.

“Ah, your modesty truly knows no bounds, Tony,” you teased.

“Appreciate it, Willy Wonka,” he shot back with a smirk.

“You’re all set for tomorrow,” Maria confirmed, her tone serious. “Just remember, rule number one of an undercover mission is to keep calm and exude confidence.”

“Not so fast, Hill,” Tony interjected playfully. “I’ve got one more safety measure for our favorite candy-holic here.”

“Aww, you didn’t have to buy me a gift,” you said, playfully dabbing at an imaginary tear.

Tony grinned and shook his head. “I didn’t buy you something—I made you something.” He lifted the box lid, unveiling a red body suit—bland and ordinary to the untrained eye. 

Your brow furrowed in surprise. “You made me a suit? I’m not an Avenger.”

“FRIDAY, would you do the honors?” Tony exclaimed.

“Yes, Boss," the AI replied smoothly. "This suit is embedded with advanced Stark technology akin to the protective suits worn by the Avengers. It monitors your vital signs and keeps track of your location, ensuring you’re always connected and secure.”

“Wow, this is amazing, Tony,” you replied, examining the suit. “But why red?” 

“You’re in love with the Scarlet Witch, right?” Tony said with a wink. 

All you could do was smile, a warm blush creeping across your cheeks.

*^~^*

The following morning, you stood on the platform, hand-in-hand with Wanda, as agents hustled around, loading supplies. You could feel the tension in the air. Your Stark-designed red suit is worn covertly underneath your clothes. Your gaze drifted toward Natasha, Yelena, Sam, and Scott, engaged in last-minute gear checks.

Wanda bit her lip, her brow furrowed with concern as she tucked a loose strand of red hair behind her ear. “Are you sure you don’t want me to come along? I’d feel so much better if I were there with you.”

You took a deep breath, trying to hold her gaze. “I’m sure. Having the most famous Sokovian in the world in the middle of it all isn’t the best way to stay under the radar,” you replied gently. “Besides, Billy and Tommy need you here. We'll be back tomorrow.” 

“Just promise me you'll stay safe,” Wanda said softly, her fingers gently caressing your cheek, her eyes filled with concern and love. 

“I promise. Trust me, the most dangerous thing in that building is my parents’ personalities,” you replied with a teasing smile. The corners of Wanda’s lips curled up slightly, but the worry in her eyes lingered.

“All aboard for San Francisco!” Yelena announced, her voice cutting through the morning breeze.

“It’s going to be okay,” you reassured Wanda, leaning in to kiss her tenderly, feeling the warmth of her lips against yours.

The rest of the team pretended to be preoccupied with their tasks, though their glances betrayed their keen interest in your loving farewell until Tony broke the serene moment.

“You’re not going off to war, chop-chop. Let’s go!” Stark called out.

“I'm coming!” you replied, your voice filled with determination, though your heart felt heavy as you left her behind.

Wanda held onto your hand with a grip that felt both reassuring and reluctant, her eyes never leaving yours as long as she could. Eventually, she had to release her hold. You turned and made your way to the Quinjet, glancing back one last time to see her standing there, a mix of pride and worry on her face. 

You waved from the window, giving her a small smile that you hoped would ease her fears as Natasha flicked the switches to initiate the take-off protocol. Clint wrapped his arm around Wanda’s shoulder as you ascended into the early morning New York sky. How she wished you had a Guardian Angel. 

*^~^*

The Quinjet touched down three hours later in Golden Gate Park's dense flora and fog. Scott led the group on backroads through the city, getting them as close to Onyx Petroleum Headquarters as possible without raising suspicions. Soon, the five had eyes on the facility from a nearby hill in the Financial District. It was a modern skyscraper with a gleaming glass and steel exterior. The entrance was marked by a large, curved atrium that soared several stories high.

“The Board of Directors’ meeting starts in T-minus 20 minutes. Remember, this is a no-kill mission. We aim to maintain a low profile and avoid raising any alarms,” you heard Maria say in your comms. “Sam, are you ready?” 

“Always. Red Wing, engage,” he said as he launched his drone into the sky. 

“You’re sure this isn't going to draw attention?” you asked, watching Red Wing soar toward the building. 

“Please, this is San Francisco. Ten-year-olds have drones,” Scott snarked. 

You observed as Red Wing gracefully soared above the sprawling cityscape displayed on Sam’s wrist band. With a steady hand, Sam zoomed in on the building.

“Infrared scan shows ten individuals gathered in the top floor boardroom,” Sam announced, his eyes narrowing with focus on the screen.

You leaned closer, nodding knowingly. “That’s where they hold their most high-profile meetings,” you remarked, using exaggerated air quotes to emphasize your point. “My parents thought the view of the city would be a major selling point.”

“Physical security measures?” Natasha interjected, her expression serious and analytical.

“Two armed security guards, one in the front and one in the rear. The perimeter is outfitted with an extensive array of CCTV cameras and motion detectors. Every access point is fortified with biometric authentication and keycard scanners,” Sam explained. 

“Ha!” Yelena scoffed with a sly grin. “This is going to be easier than I thought.”

“This is it,” Natasha said softly, her hand resting reassuringly on your shoulder. “Once you and Scott are in the meeting, we’ll make our move.”

With a deep breath, you met her gaze and nodded, feeling the weight of the moment settle around you. 

“Away we go,” Scott grinned at you, a mischievous glint in his eye as he pressed a button on the side of his helmet, initiating the shrinking procedure. You carefully reached down, scooping him up in your palm, and then placed him on your shoulder.

*^~^*

“Mom!” Tommy called out from the back seat, his voice tinged with concern. When Billy did not respond, Tommy exchanged a worried glance.

“Mom?” Billy echoed, mirroring Tommy’s unease.

Wanda glanced back through the rearview mirror, a hint of distraction in her eyes. “Hmm? I’m sorry, what did you say, boys?”

“Why did Y/N have to go to San Francisco?” Tommy asked, his brow furrowed.

“Yeah!” Billy chimed in, his disappointment palpable. “She just moved in with us, and now she’s gone? Does she not want to live here anymore?”

Wanda turned the car into the driveway, her expression softening as she faced her sons. “Oh, sweetheart, it’s not like that at all,” she reassured them. “Y/N had to visit her parents, but don’t worry—she’ll be back tomorrow.”

“Alright,” Tommy said, a hint of reluctance in his voice as he slung his backpack over one shoulder and stepped out of the car.

Billy lingered in his seat, concern etched across his young face. “Are you really okay, Mom? I can hear your thoughts buzzing like a swarm of bees.”

Wanda’s heart warmed at Billy’s perceptiveness. “Everything is just fine, sweetie,” she replied, gently stroking his cheek. “Now, don’t you have that book report to tackle?”

“Yes,” he mumbled, glancing down.

“Then let’s head inside,” she encouraged, watching as he trailed after Tommy, the two brothers disappearing into the house.

Taking a moment for herself, the redhead paused in the driver’s seat, drawing in a deep breath to steady her racing heart and quiet her swirling thoughts. As she sat still, she couldn’t help but wonder what you were doing at this very moment.

*^~^*

With a confident stride, you entered the vast lobby, the echoes of Maria's advice resonating in your mind. The space enveloped you in a whirlwind of sensations, triggering memories. The expansive area, adorned with gleaming marble floors reflecting the soft glow of overhead lighting, felt grand and suffocating. Your gaze was drawn to the bold piece of contemporary art suspended from the ceiling, its vibrant colors and abstract shapes striking a stark contrast against the sterile environment. A wave of distaste washed over you; everything about this place reeked of insincerity. It was a facade you had always resented, a world that felt entirely out of reach and utterly phony to your senses.

You were handed a visitor badge at the reception desk. The irony was not lost on you that your parents saw you as a visitor. You quietly rode the elevator to the top floor, save for Scott’s occasional Dad joke, trying to lighten the mood. With a swirl of nerves, you raked your fingers through your hair as the doors glided open. 

The sight of the long, polished oak conference table stretched out before you, with your father and mother seated at the far end, their presence commanding the room. 

As soon as they caught sight of you, they gracefully extricated themselves from a rather dubious conversation with a sleazy-looking executive and made their way over.

“Y/N! It’s been ages,” your father declared, a thin smile playing at the corners of his mouth as he extended his hand for a shake. Even after all this time, he still exuded the warmth of an ice cube, you mused as you grasped his hand.

"Nice to see you, too, Dad," you said with a playful smirk, sarcasm lacing your words.

“You certainly don’t look too bad,” he remarked, his eyes scanning you with an unsettling appraisal.

Your brow furrowed in confusion. “Excuse me?”

“Honestly, between that car accident and living in New York, I thought for sure you’d stroll in here with a cane and a sling,” your father chuckled.

You felt your jaw clench at his insensitivity, a wave of frustration washing over you. 

“Y/N, your blood pressure is climbing.” Maria’s voice crackled through your comms, concern lacing her tone as she monitored the readings from your suit.

“Hey, take it easy, Y/N,” Scott said, breaking the tension. You nearly forgot Ant-Man was perched on your shoulder, a tiny ally in this awkward moment.

“Good one, Dad,” you said, gritting your teeth as the words slipped out. 

“We’re thrilled you could be here today, sweetheart,” your mother beamed.

“Me too,” you responded, forcing a smile despite the knot in your stomach. 

“Shall we take a seat?” she suggested, gesturing towards the conference table.

“I should come back later. I don’t want to barge in,” you said with a hint of innocence, fully aware your parents would insist you stay. 

“Nonsense,” your father exclaimed, touching your shoulder and nearly squishing Scott. “Why not join us? This meeting won’t take long. Then we can catch up.” 

You winced as Scott let out a yelp and dove for cover under your jacket's collar. 

“You okay down there, Tic-Tac?” Sam asked, a teasing lilt in his voice. 

“Barely,” Scott huffed, trying to regain his breath.

You could hear Yelena’s laughter echoing through the comms.

You smiled as your parents introduced you to the Onyx Petroleum Board of Directors. Some faces sparked recognition, while others glanced at you with barely concealed indifference. 

“Thank you all for coming today. As you know, we are here to discuss the next great frontier for Onyx Petroleum. Vibranium,” your father announced proudly.

“That’s our cue,” Natasha said in your ear. “We’re on the move, Y/N.” 

“A rare metallic substance of extraterrestrial origin,” your father continued. “For centuries, Vibranium was thought only to be found in the sub-Saharan country of Wakanda—until today.”

You cast a subtle glance around the polished conference table, noting the varied expressions on the faces of the Board of Directors.

Your father leaned slightly forward, his voice steady as he began, “Thanks to that egotistical bastard, Tony Stark, we now know that Sokovia possesses the largest known natural vein of Vibranium outside of Wakanda. However, tapping into this invaluable resource presents a significant challenge, as it lies submerged beneath the waters that cloak the Sokovian ruins.” As he spoke, he navigated through a series of photographs on the conference screen, revealing haunting images of what had once been Wanda’s home.

It took every ounce of self-control to keep your emotions in check as you stared at the photographs before you. You had witnessed the destruction wrought by Ultron on the news, but these were different—satellite images that revealed a harrowing perspective. The scale of the devastation was staggering; the entire city lay in ruin, its outline stark against the landscape, reduced to a mere shadow of its former self. Piles of rubble and rising smoke were a haunting testament to the chaos caused by Ultron. As you absorbed the sight, Wanda’s words reverberated in your mind like a chilling mantra: "There is always more to take." 

*^~^*

“On my signal, Sam,” Natasha murmured, her gaze fixed intently on the security guard stationed at the rear of the building. “Now.”

Red Wing swooped gracefully above the security guard, destroying the CCTV camera. The rush of wind and sound barely registered before the moment slipped away. Just a heartbeat later, he was jolted back to reality—Yelena’s fist collided with his jaw, sharp and unexpected. He barely had time to gather his bearings before chaos erupted around him. Natasha had wrapped her legs around his neck, subduing him in one swift motion. 

Yelena glanced over her shoulder, making sure the security guard was out cold before she spoke. “You need to update your moves. That crotch-throat grab? It’s so tired.”

Natasha raised an eyebrow, smirking as she snagged the man’s key card. “Hey, the classics never go out of style, sestra.”

“Poser,” Yelena shot back, rolling her eyes with an amused huff.

Scanning the card, Maria guided the two sisters remotely through the building's maze. 

“Up this stairwell and then through the door on the right,” Maria instructed. “Two guards in your way, and then you'll be in the IT Center.”

“I’ve got this,” Yelena said with a confident smirk. “Let me show you some combat moves relevant to this century.”

“Please, go ahead,” Nat replied with a playful challenge, gesturing toward the swinging doors.

With a swift roundhouse kick, Yelena took down the first guard, her foot connecting with his stomach and sending him crashing down. The second guard reached for his weapon, but the blonde was too quick. Twisting his arm, he dropped the gun before he could fire. He swung at her with his free hand. Blocking the punch with her forearm, she kneed him in the head, neutralizing the threat without hesitation.

Natasha opened the door just in time to see Yelena dusting herself off like a victorious gladiator. “See? That’s how you get it done!” Yelena declared a triumphant grin spread across her face.

The redhead raised an eyebrow, her smirk barely containing her amusement. “Sure, if by ‘done,’ you mean taking twice as long.”

“Jealous much?” Yelena shot back, a playful accusation lacing her tone.

Sam's voice crackled through their comms, dripping with sarcasm. “This delightful sibling bickering isn’t exactly efficient, ladies. How about you finish up, and I’ll treat you both to a Ghirardelli sundae once you’re done?”

The sisters returned to their task with a collective eye roll.

Yelena was on the lookout as Natasha sat in front of the computer, her eyes fixed on the screen as she worked her magic. Her fingers flew across the keyboard with a speed and precision that would shame even the most skilled hackers.

Despite the mainframe being heavily guarded, Nat gained access to the system with a few swift keystrokes. She easily navigated through the digital landscape, avoiding detection by Onyx Petroleum’s security software. Once Natasha had access to the system, she began to dig deeper, backing up everything from financial records to confidential emails. She utilized various techniques to conceal her digital footprint, ensuring no trace of her activities would be left behind. 

“Files downloaded,” Natasha confirmed. 

*^~^*

You carefully lifted Scott off your shoulder and placed him on the table as you pretended to adjust your collar.

As the Board of Directors droned on, Scott scurried across the conference table, weaving between the coffee cups and papers, pausing beside a cup of coffee, listening intently to the conversation. He discreetly retrieved a tiny bug from his pocket and, glancing around the room, carefully positioned it on the table's edge, its glinting surface almost blending into the wood.

Suddenly, a hand reached for the cup, and Scott barely dodged the giant fingers. He held his breath as the hand lifted the cup and took a sip.

You inhaled sharply at the near miss, sending a ripple of concern throughout the room.

“Are you okay, Y/N?” Your mother’s voice cut through the tension, laced with worry.

“I’m fine,” you replied, a bit breathless. “It just felt like... I was,” you hesitated, searching for the right words, “falling.”

“Smooth,” Sam chuckled in your ear.

“Has anyone looked into a feasibility report for this Y/D/N?” one of the Board Members inquired, his brow furrowed in concern.

“I concur!” another member chimed in, his voice skepticism-filled. “This project seems riddled with unnecessary risks.”

Your father leaned forward, his expression confident. “Gentlemen, the potential rewards far exceed any risks we might face. We’re dealing with an indestructible metal that offers limitless applications. Imagine advanced drilling technologies, enhanced oil recovery, and fortified pipelines and storage solutions. The prospective timeline puts us at approximately three months from arrival to pay dirt. The possibilities are extraordinary.”

You keenly observed the expressions on the faces of the Board of Directors, noting the subtle shifts in their demeanor as your parents presented their case. 

"We've successfully struck a deal with Slovakia and the Czech Republic to start drilling on the land they annexed following the Battle of Sokivia," your father revealed a note of triumph in his voice.

“Shall we put it to a vote?” your mother inquired, cutting through the tension in the room. “All those in favor?” 

A flurry of hands shot up, eager to signal their support.

Your father followed up with a calm authority, “All those opposed?” 

In stark contrast, only two hands hesitantly lifted into the air. It took all your resolve to stop your hand from raising instinctively. 

“Excellent!” Your father exclaimed.

The triumphant grins plastered on your parents' faces felt all too familiar, a mix of smug satisfaction and bombastic pride. Inside, a storm of emotions raged—anger, despair, a desperate need to scream that what they were doing was utterly wrong. But you couldn't.

“Steady, Y/N,” Natasha’s voice broke through your comms.

“We’ll move forward with the next steps,” your mother said. 

Your heart plunged for a moment before the shrill sound of an alarm pierced the air and echoed through the building.

“What is that?” Sam's voice cracked with confusion in your ear.

“That’s not coming from us,” Natasha shot back, her tone sharp.

“It’s the fire alarm,” Yelena groaned.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me,” Maria exclaimed.

Scott hurriedly scurried up your arm before diving into the safety of your jacket pocket. “What is this, junior high?”

“Piece of junk,” your father grumbled, yanking off his glasses and rubbing his forehead as the frustration creased his brow.

“Well, I suppose that wraps this meeting up,” one of the Board Members announced, rising from his chair. “Keep us informed, Y/F/N. Great to see you, Y/M/N.”

“Shouldn’t we get going?” you suggested, gesturing toward the door as the Board Members began to file out, the alarm’s relentless wailing echoing in the background.

“Nonsense,” your mother interjected, already dialing a number with a determined look in her eyes. “Someone needs to deal with that absurd alarm!” She hung up abruptly, cutting off the poor soul on the other line before they could respond.

Just then, the alarm ceased blaring, though the ringing in your ears lingered.

“Finally,” Yelena breathed a sigh of relief in your ear.

“Please, Y/N. Have a seat,” your mother urged, her voice laced with an urgency that felt out of place in this sterile boardroom.

“Everyone, hold your ground,” Maria instructed sharply.

Reluctantly, you sank back into your chair across the table from your parents. It was the closest you’d been to them in years, yet the emotional distance felt insurmountable.

“So,” your father started, his gaze piercing, “what did you think of the presentation?”

You bit your tongue, grappling with the bile rising in your throat. The words "disgusting" and "immoral" danced on the tip of your tongue, but instead, you forced a tight smile. “Well, you certainly seem passionate about it.”

His eyes lit up. “We are,” he declared, a hint of pride in his voice. “But more importantly, we believe this marks the dawn of a new era for Onyx Petroleum. And we want you to be part of it.”

“We want you to come home, Y/N. Lead this Sokovia project,” your mother implored, her eyes searching yours for a spark of interest or perhaps allegiance.

“I see,” you said, pausing to gather your thoughts; you had been right all along. “So all that sentimental talk on the phone about how it's been ages since we’ve seen each other—it was just a clever ploy to draw me in. Sokovia stands as a solemn memorial, a place that deserves our respect. Yet, you seek to tarnish its memory for your greed. I refuse to be a part of it!”

“Oh, come now, darling,” your mother responded, a sweet veneer barely masking her disapproval. “You could spend your life toiling away in that little sweet shop in New York, but what does that truly offer you?”

“A life I cherish, surrounded by people who mean the world to me—something neither of you could grasp,” you fired back, lacing your words with just the right amount of sarcasm. “If you’ll excuse me, I must return to my little sweet shop.”

You could hear Yelena’s enthusiastic cheers buzzing in your comms as you pushed yourself away from the desk, rising from your chair with triumph and frustration. The last thing you saw as the elevator doors closed was your parents' familiar look of disappointment.

“What do we do now, Y/F/N?” your mother sighed. 

“We take more drastic action,” your father said firmly, his expression unyielding as he braced himself for what lay ahead. “We need her.”

*^~^*

You let out a deep sigh as Sam activated the Quinjet's autopilot, the hum of the engines filling the tense silence. “Now what?” 

Nat turned to you, her expression steady and reassuring as she touched your shoulder. “We do what we always do,” she said with a determined glint in her eye. “We dive into the intel and devise our countermeasures.”

“What on earth am I supposed to tell Wanda?” you asked, your eyes fixed on your nervous, twisting hands. 

“The truth, plain and simple,” Scott replied, his gaze sympathetic.

Yelena chimed in, her voice sharp like a blade. “You mean that her parents are greedy criminals and lack any sense of morality, completely indifferent to the feelings of others?”

"Something like that," you sighed, a hint of weariness in your voice as you gazed into the distance. 

*^~^*

The last twenty-four hours stretched out for Wanda like a seemingly endless toll of the clock, each moment dragging on, feeling more like an eternity than a single day. The redhead felt an overwhelming urge to reach out to you and hear your voice. Yet, deep down, she understood that letting the mission play out was the wiser choice. Tommy forgot his math homework, costing Wanda valuable time and derailing her plans to meet you at the hangar.

When she finally arrived at the compound, she moved quickly through the familiar halls, anticipation building in her chest, only to find you surrounded by Natasha, Yelena, Sam, and Scott, deep in a debriefing with Maria. The glow of the overhead lights illuminated everyone’s serious expressions.

When the briefing finally ended, your gaze drifted to Wanda, visible through the glass panel of the debriefing room. You exchanged a glance with Maria, who subtly gestured with her head, encouraging you to go.

As you strolled over to Wanda, you could feel her gaze scanning you from head to toe. “You look fine, so I take it your talk with your parents didn’t end in a brawl.”

“Nope, Nat and Yelena handled the heavy lifting,” you smirked, leaning in for a kiss.

Wanda let out a soft sigh. “I’m almost afraid to ask what happened.”

You bit your lip, a wave of anxiety washing over you as you took Wanda’s hand in yours. “They’re moving forward with the drilling plans.”

Wanda’s eyes narrowed, and she nodded solemnly. “I can’t say I’m surprised.”

You took a deep breath, feeling the weight of your following words. “They tried to convince me come home and lead the Sokovia project.”

“Of course they did,” Wanda said, her voice dripping with frustration.

“Tony is piecing together the server intel so we can figure out our next move,” you said, your voice laced with urgency.

“Good,” she nodded, hope flickering in her eyes. “Let’s just pray there’s something useful in there.”

As Natasha approached, she confidently declared, “There will be—I left nothing behind.”

“Except for our hearing from that ridiculous fire alarm,” Yelena chimed in, playfully wiggling her ear as if trying to shake off the memory.

Nat turned to you, a warm smile spreading as she touched your shoulder reassuringly. “You should be proud, Wanda. Y/N nailed it.”

Wanda’s eyes sparkled. “I always am,” she replied, her voice infused with genuine affection.

You sighed, your thoughts circling what could have been done differently. “I just wish there was more I could do,” you admitted, feeling the weight of the mission still lingering.

“Rule number two of undercover missions,” Maria interjected as she stepped out of the debriefing room. “You have to let the intel come together. We’re only starting to get feedback from Scott’s bug, and it’ll take us a while to sift through the servers. You can do nothing more today; go home and get some rest.”

“Exactly what I was thinking,” Wanda agreed softly, her fingers brushing your cheek gently.

Taking her hand in yours, you felt the warmth and comfort of her touch. You had no idea how profoundly your bond would be challenged in the months ahead.

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