SGM

Music filled the house party full of teenagers from several different high schools, red cups full of beer in the hands of most, people scattered throughout the house, some in the pool and others in small groups of their own. You snuck out after hours ago to join your girlfriend, Kate, for a bit of rule breaking fun. 

Kate, wearing black jeans and her archery club dark purple t-shirt, could barely keep her hands off you, especially when you were wearing the leather jacket that she had gotten you for valentine's day, a plain black t-shirt underneath finished with black jeans and a pair of your mom's black combat boots. Kate placed a kiss on your neck while her warms were wrapped around you from behind as you poured another two beers for you both, "wanna go upstairs?" she whispered. 

A soft smirk tugged at your lips, you nodded, placing the beers on the table before following your girlfriend upstairs to an empty bedroom. Kate knew you weren't ready for anything physical, and she respected that, the furthest the two of you had got was a steamy make out session whenever you were home alone, tonight was no different. Kate gently brushed your hair out of the view of your neck, "may I?" she looked up at you, you knew what she was asking, "just small ones" you replied. 

Her lips pressed against the skin on your neck, lightly sucking to leave a faint but noticeable mark, she left a total of four hickeys on your neck before her lips were pressed against yours once more, your tongues exploring each other, too distracted to hear the loud yelling from downstairs over the music. 

"Yeah, yeah! Save it!" The police officer shook her head, "The party is over! Now I suggest you all get out of my sight before I take everybody down to the station and call your parents!" she added, grabbing a plastic red cup out of a party goers' hand, "and I am sure they won't be happy with the fine they'll get for underage drinking!" She went on. The house quickly went form a fun party to teenagers dropping their drinks and rushing to get out of the house. 

"I'll check upstairs" the red head's partner commented before walking up the stairs, "Who's house is this?" the officer looked around at those who didn't move, raising a brow when neither answered. 

"Alright kids, that's enough" A voice interrupted your make out session, Kate's hands all over your arse. "Parties over" the officer added when you pulled yourself away from your girlfriend, rolling your eyes at being caught. The officer followed you and Kate downstairs where you heard a familiar voice. Your heart skipped a beat when you came eye to eye with your mother, Natasha. 

"Y/n" she said your name sternly, full of disappointment, "Kate" she said in the same tone as her eyes shifted to Kates. You knew you were in deep shit, especially when you were supposed to be at home and studying for next week's history exam. Your mother looked back at you, her jaw clenching as she tried to keep from giving you a lecture in front of everybody, "Officer Hill, could you please take these two outside" she added without breaking the strong eye contact with you. 

----

"Mom, can we please just go home?" you asked while sitting on the seat by her desk, your arms crossed while your mother gave you the silent treatment. "The best thing you can do right now is keep quiet!" she replied, shooting a disappointed look your way. You rolled your eyes once more before looking across the room to your girlfriend and giving her a soft 'I'm sorry' type of smile. Just then, Nat rose from her seat and walked over to Kate, you watched from your seat but were unable to hear a word that was said. 

"Does Clint know you were out tonight?" Natasha asked the blue-eyed girl, she shook her head, "No Mrs Romanoff, I told him I was staying at your place tonight with Y/n to study" Kate replied with the honest truth, she knew better to lie to a cop, let alone Natasha Romanoff. 

"Right. I'm going to give him a call, I'll have one of the offices take you home" Natasha spoke sternly seeing how scared Kate was from getting into trouble with the red head. "Another thing" she paused, looking directly into Kate's eyes, "I know you and Y/n have been dating for a while but if I ever catch her with hickeys on her neck again, you won't be seeing her any longer, do you understand?" 

Kate nodded, "I understand, I'm really sorry Mrs Romanoff" she replied. 

"Good, Officer Hill will take you home, I'm going to call Clint now." 

You watched your mother wander back to her desk and pick up the phone, your eyes drifted over to take and mouthed "what did she say?" but Kate just shook her head, making you mad at your mother for whatever was said. 

----

"What did you say to Kate?!" you demanded as your mother opened the door to your home, "Go upstairs to your room!" Nat replied, ignoring your question as you stormed into the living room. Wanda paused her sitcom and looked at the two of you confused. 

"What's going on? Why are you dressed and why are you home so early?" she asked, standing up from the sofa. Natasha was set to knock off work at 2am but here she was at 11pm. 

"Do you want to tell her or should I?" Nat looked at you while her hands worked on taking off her gun holster belt. Full of frustration, you turned to your mom. "I snuck out, okay?! I snuck out and went to a party with Kate! I don't see what the big deal is! I am 17 for god's sake" you snapped. Wanda wasn't impressed with your actions but she was always the calmer parent when it came to conflict. "Now tell her about the marks on your neck" Natasha added. 

"Oh what?!" you moved your hair to the side, showing your mother the hickeys that Kate left behind, "these?! Just some fucking hickeys?!" you added. 

"That is enough! You do not speak to me like that! Do you understand how worried your mother and I would be if something happened to you?! Did you even stop to think about that? You are still a teenager!" Natasha's voice rose with anger, deep down her own fears were beginning to show. 

"Honey" Wanda walked up to her wife, "go take a shower and calm down, let me take this one" she added in her soft tone that always helped Natasha take a moment to breathe. 

"God!" you snapped once more, "you act like I am supposed to be this perfect child and do nothing wrong, all I ever do is do good by you and the one time I want to do something for myself you act like it's the end of the world!" you added, Wanda turned around and now both your parents were looking at you. "Do you know how fucking annoying and embarrassing it is to have the entire school know that my mothers are police officers" you went on just as Wanda opened her mouth to say something, "I never get invited to parties because nobody wants you two to show and up ruin it just like you did tonight! Now everybody is going to think it's my fault!" You finished before storming upstairs to your room, slamming the door shut. 

Of course, your mothers knew their job title would eventually cause an unspoken issue but after seeing your little outburst, they only just now saw how much their jobs were affecting your social life. 

After a while, Wanda came knocking on your door. "Honey, can we talk?" she asked, poking her head in. You tossed your phone to the other side of your bed and sat up as Wanda walked in and sat down on the edge of your bed. "Don't give me that lecture about mom loving me so much and she is only mad because she cares, please" you sighed. 

"But you're right on that sweetheart, she does love and care about you so much, you're our baby" your mother reached for your hand, "do you know what we see every single day on our job?" Wanda asked causing you to roll your eyes, "I know, I get it" you huffed. 

"Honey, please, listen to me" your mother tilted her head ever so slightly, "you're 17, you're young and you're going to do things that mom and I aren't going to agree with but at the end of the day, you're our little girl. No matter how tall you are, you'll be 50 and still our little girl, your safety is so important to us.

Mom told me what she said to Kate, she doesn't mean that. You're just growing up so fast and now you're dating, it worries us, but I know you're safe and Kate is a lovely woman and I hope she isn't to upset with your mom" Wanda couldn't help but brush a lock of hair behind your ear, "I know our jobs take a toll on you and I spoke to mom, she's going to drop the possession charges on the brothers who lived there but I can't let you sneaking out slide. You broke our trust a little tonight, so I am only doing this because I love you and I want you to really understand that" she went on. 

"Mom, please! it was one time" you sighed knowing that your punishment was coming. 

"Hopefully the last. You're grounded, no going to Kate's this weekend"

"Mom! You've gotta be kidding me!?" You snapped, pulling your hands away from your mother.

"I'm sorry love, but it's only fair" 

----

 The weekend went by slowly, not only were you not allowed to stay at your girlfriends for the weekend but Natasha and Wanda both agreed to confiscate your phone for the weekend. You spent the whole of Saturday in your room, ignoring your mothers whenever they came by, they knew you were upset but so were they. Come Monday morning and you were over the whole ideal. 

"Good morning" you smiled as you took a seat at the dinner table, Wanda made a quick eggs, bacon and toast for breakfast, all three of you were at school and work today. "Somebody seems happier today" Natasha replied as she looked up from the newspaper, Wanda pouring herself a mug of coffee while you took a sip of your orange juice. 

"Yeah, I did some thinking and I guess you guys were right to be worried and I am really sorry" you explained. Both your mothers looked at you, Wanda smiled softly, "I'm glad you see the situation from our shoes" she spoke.

"But" you looked to Nat, "mom, you can't talk to Kate like you did. I know you want to protect me from literally everything, but I trust Kate and she's always been so caring and respectful towards me. Thursday night was the first time she'd ever left marks on me, and I liked it and if the time comes and I want to sleep with her, I will" you added before taking a bite out of your toast, leaving Natasha speechless. You rose from your seat, your toast still between your lips.

"You're leaving already?" Wanda asked, slightly assumed. 

"Yeah, I have a test today and I want to get there early to see Kate" you replied, grabbing your backpack before wandering over to Nat and placing a kiss on her cheek, "I love you mom, have a good day" you spoke before doing the same to Wanda, grabbing your phone from her before leaving the house. 

"Love you too honey!" You mothers called out in sync. 

----

You knew you'd have the house to yourself after school, so it wasn't a surprise that you invited Kate over to make up for the lost time from the weekend. Upstairs in your bedroom, laying in Kates arms as she read you her English essay while her fingers ran through your hair, her voice calming you from the build-up of nerves that you had felt all day. 

"Mrs Potts is totally going to fail me on this" Kate chuckled as she threw her essay to the side once she finished reading it. "Don't say that! you'll pass! It covers everything the assessment said to cover" you replied, looking up at her. Kate frowned slightly, "what's going baby?" she asked seeing the uncertain look in your eyes. You sat up slowly and shook your head lightly, "I don't know, something feels off ever since lunch, I'm probably just stressed about today’s test" you replied trying to brush off the uneasy feeling you were having. 

Just then, you heard the front door open, "Mom's home! I'm going to ask if you can stay for dinner" you smiled, leaving Kate in your bedroom as you wandered down the stairs. One look at your mother and that uneasy feeling suddenly made sense. 

"M-mom?" You questioned looking at her, her eyes red and puffy from crying. "Mom, what happened?!" you asked, fearing the worst.

You’d missed the actual ceremony because it felt a little too tedious to have to watch that AND go to the reception. 

So when you walked into the gorgeous outdoor venue with the white giant tent and the dance floor it was a little overwhelming. But you quickly took a champagne flute off of a waiters tray and walked over to a corner of the room.

You spotted Natasha and Wanda, they were wearing gorgeous white dresses and kissing. Cringey lovey dovey music played from the band and they swayed and laughed in each others arms. 

Well this was fun. 

You took a swig of the champagne and looked down at your dress wondering if it was the wrong choice? You downed all of the champagne now, and looked around for the open bar. 

As you made your way around the outside of the dancfloor not touching the wood floor with a ten foot pole. Going stag to a wedding was bad enough, dancing alone would have you committed.  

When you finally got to the bartender he eyed your dress twice and you realized you’d over dressed with it. But you asked him for a gin and tonic and he turned away from you to fill a glass with ice. 

That’s when you heard Wanda call your name, oh fuck. You plastered a smile on your face before turning around and pretending to be excited.

She squealed obnoxiously and danced a little before grabbing your hand pulling you into her for a hug. 

“Wow, you look so beautiful!” You compliment her and she does another little dance from side to side. 

“You look great too! You really clean up nice! So where’s your date? I can’t wait to meet them!” 

You’d been worried about this. You stupidly put on your RSVP that you’d bring a date. Then you’d gone to your coven meeting and Lilia had that good wine. You’d bitched to your coven about the wedding with your two exes. That you were the reason they’d gotten together and you’d all three used to have threesomes. 

And now they were in love and you were alone. Alice offered to hex them. Jen gave you a face peel and some bubble bath products. Lilia hugged you close reminding you, you would never be alone because you had a found family of coven members who loved you. 

But you’d gotten drunk at the meeting and passed out on Agatha’s sofa. She’d stayed on the love seat next to you, lying and saying she’d been worried you’d choke on your own vomit. But Agatha made your favorite cappuccino with her fancy coffee machine and even an omlete for your hangover. 

Agatha and Rio had been your best friends for many, many, many years now. You knew them very well. You even knew about Nicky. While Agatha and Rio weren’t together anymore you wished they were. If anyone deserved happiness it was your two best friends in the whole world. 

Rio called you when you got home and asked when the wedding was. You’d told her and then she told you she’d just found a new foreign film that you needed to see. 

So she drove to your apartment, which both Agatha and Rio had a key to. Walking in like she was in Cheers. Because Rio never knocked anymore, and you didn’t need her to.

The two of you cuddled on the sofa and read the subtitles. Rio didn’t leave that weekend, and neither of you found that odd. On Sunday you hadn’t texted Agatha good morning like usual and she’d grown concerned and walked into your apartment to find you and Rio screaming at your flat screen. 

Agatha held an iced matcha latte with lavender and you jumped as she slammed the door behind her, clearly mad. 

“Oh shit! Aggie I forgot to text you this morning, I’m sorry! Wanna watch Donny Darko? Rio’s never seen it and she’s pissed at every character.” You told the older witch who was ignoring how Rio threw her empty plastic cup at the screen in irritation. 

Agatha didn’t need a second to decide, walking across the living room to your left side and handing you the drink. You curled into Agatha’s side and whatever upset the older witch had at you not texting her back left her body. 

You loved them.

And to be honest you’d never even thought of asking one of them to go to this thing with you. They hated Nat and Wanda, never finding anyone you dated ‘worthy.’

 So you figured Rio would probably have replaced the flowers in the flower girls basket with worms.

 And Agatha would have invaded Natasha’s magicless mind and made her think the chappel was burning. Just to see her react absurdly scared as Wanda gave her heartfelt vows. 

Yeah that wasn’t a good idea. 

So you were here in tall stiletto heels, a gorgeous dress, hair pinned up, alone. 

And Wanda was asking why you checked yes to a date. 

“Well..” You start and that’s when a hand falls on your ass and you jump.

“Hiya hon, sorry parking was terrible! I’m glad you got a drink I’m thirsty. Oh hello Wanda, nice party. Our’s was…well bigger and we booked that really great band the one Lorna used to sing with.” Agatha’s voice shook you as you turned and her hand stayed on your body. 

It felt..so good. What the fuck was happening? 

Agatha took the oppertunity to lean down and kiss you on the lips. You melted into the kiss and it wasn’t a peck, Agatha was kissing really you. 

You’d dreamed of this of course, but never knew it would be this wonderful in reality. 

When Agatha pulled back she smiled at you, not a performative smile either. She’d worn a suit, oh my god Agatha looked so good in a suit. Agatha subtly found your hand and you didn’t look down but felt her slide a ring on your finger. 

“Forgot this in the car my silly girl.”  

“You got married?” Wanda said and you could tell she didn’t like that she didn’t get an invite. Your mouth opened but no words came out. 

“Of course we did, Wanda you of all people know what a catch my wife is. Cant’ believe you didn’t put a ring on her. But your loss is my gain. She’s so delicious in this dress isn’t she?” Agatha’s sexy hand found the back of your neck and her gaze warmed your flushed body as she studied your blue dress tight dress.

“Wait, I thought you said Agatha didn’t like you back?” Wanda said it a little harsh and Agatha’s eyebrow raised. Oh well so much for a fake marriage being the most shocking thing in this conversation. You were quick to try and deflate it. 

Knowing Wanda had been so worried about Agatha. Always jealous of the time you spent with her. Swearing that you two were cheating and that you were lying to her. 

“We-” You start but Agatha cuts you off. 

“You thought I’d wait after you left? I was just being patient. But I don’t have to wait anymore. I gotta tell you, the thing she does in bed to me, well you know. I’ve never felt a tongue that can do that!” Agatha laughs and Wanda’s ears turn dark red.

 How in the fuck Agatha could be so chipper and cut your ex down to the bone was confusing. Agatha had an art for pissing people off, but this was different. Agatha was out for blood. 

“Wow I mean that’s, wow. So um when did you get married?” Wanda asks and just as Agatha is about to answer you hear Natasha calling for Wanda. You can’t see her from the crowd of people. 

Taylor Swift is being sang loudly by the band; ‘You Belong To Me.’ Which of course Wanda would demand that song at her wedding. 

This was all such a cliche and yet you didn’t want it to end. Not while Agatha’s hand was firmly on your ass and neck so tenderly. 

But Natasha pushed through the crowd arm and arm with…Rio?

You heard Agatha curse lightly under her breath, realizing that she wasn’t the only one with this plan now.

 Rio was wearing a blazer and no button down under it. Her gorgeous breasts on display as dark lipstick looked good enough to kill on her mouth. 

Her heels clicked on the floor and you were sure she could kill someone with the stiletto.

Rio uncovered her arm from Natasha. Natasha had never liked Agatha either, much like Wanda. She knew Agatha was a threat. Rio however had charmed Natasha so that Rio could manipulate more time shared with you. Wanda had not fallen for this trick. 

But Rio bought Natasha a ticket to go visit family. And Nat had said how you just had the most amazing friend. Little did she know Rio stayed at your home the whole time. You both went to baseball games, a play, out for lunch everyday. Rio was just getting the woman out of the way. 

Nat wasn’t stupid though, she caught on, eventually. Wanda could never decide in an arguement with you who she didn’t like more, Rio or Wanda. 

So it wasn’t super shocking that Nat was being a little chummy with Rio. 

But your friend didn’t get the hint of Agatha’s hand on your ass and the ring on your finger. 

“Pookie I’ve been looking everywhere for you! I need my dance partner! I can’t leave you alone here for two seconds. Not in that dress! Someone will try and steal my girlfriend!” Rio said before leaning down and kissing you slow, you heard her moan. And grab your jaw to deepen the kiss.

Agatha was startled for a moment before clearing her throat. Rio broke the kiss and looked at Agatha confused. 

“Girlfriend?” Wanda asked more confused than Rio.

“Yes, you didn’t think she’d stay single did you? Have you seen her naked?” Rio teased Wanda but Agatha cut in. 

“Well after we got married obviously Rio became a more perminent part of our relationship. We are all together.” Agatha answered and Rios head whipped to the side to look at her ex and you.

Taylor Swifts lyrics rang out:

‘Can't you see that I'm the one who understands you?

Been here all along, so why can't you see?

You belong with me’

“Right!” Rio’s mind rebooted and she caught on in time. 

“Guess we did have something to worry about after all!” Natasha joked but it wasn’t funny to anyone. She came over to her new wife and held her close. Now that felt more like a possessive gross hold than anything else. 

“So you married Agatha and are both dating Rio?” Wanda repeated never one to understand complex relationships, and Rio fell to your left side and Aggie to your right. Their arms holding onto your hips.

It felt like you had an army behind you now.

The bartender pushed your drink onto the bar and you reached for it and drank before answering. 

The ice clicked in the glass before you eyed your exes.

“Well you knew I always had a thing for them. And you know how hard I cum in threesomes. Is it really so shocking?” You explain and feel both your best friends painted nails dig into your dress. Was that jealousy? Or enjoyment? 

No, they were doing this as your friend.

Wanda and Nat didn’t look as happy as before. 

Good! You thought triumphantly. 

“Oh Aggie, let me take our girl onto the dance floor. Will you order us some drinks?” Rio said and you were so grateful for a chance to leave.

“But-“ Agatha tries to stop Rio who takes your drink and gives it to Agatha. Before wrapping both your hands in hers and leading you onto the wooded floor in the middle of the party. 

Luckily the song changes. Sam Cookes ‘Twistin The Night Away’ starts up and you cringe. Leaning into her you whisper;

“Rio you know I can’t dance! And I can’t swing dance! I’m going to look ridiculous.” 

“Shh baby girl. Follow my lead.” Rio says and she leads you into a dance. At first it’s easy just some rocking but when Cooke’s song gets faster she spins you. And then rocks you close before twirling you again. 

Rio is a talented dancer and she moves you easily in true swing fashion. You feel your nerves start to ease. You smile and Rio takes the opportunity to dip you.

You don’t mean to cling to her so tight. You don’t mean to smile so hard. But Rio is spinning you and rocking into you and it’s…fun.

It’s so fucking fun.  

Of course it is because it’s Rio! 

But when Rio eyes you mischievously you know trouble is coming. She lifts you into the air and you tilt your head back and laugh so loudly. Before she swings you down between her legs and back up. 

People are staring, you don’t care.

‘Dancing with an older queen

Who's dolled up in her diamond rings and

Twisting the night away

Man, you oughta see her go

Twisting to the rock and roll

Here you find the young and old

Twisting the night away’

Rio laughs along as she catches you and you wrap your arms around her shoulders as she two steps to the song. You forget where you are. Forget that Rio isn’t your girlfriend, in fact.

When the song ends you are leaning heavily into Rio’s chest exhausted. Rio is holding you close and tight. Like you belonged there against her. 

You feel a little sweat stick to the back of your neck but you can’t wipe the smile off your face. Rio giggles and kisses your cheek and you think you could die happy right here. 

You were mad at Mr. Cooke for not making his song longer. 

But Rio walked you back to Agatha who was watching and drinking scotch. When you got to her you expected a snide comment about being left with Wanda and Nat. Instead she handed you both a drink. Before pointing to a table.

You three walked to the oval table with all the flowers and fell into the uncomfortable folding chairs. 

Your eyes found Wanda and Nat as they were staring at you three and arguing back and forth. 

Rio and Agatha followed your gaze and they both soured at your attention shifting. You were oblivious to their jealousy in this moment. 

Instead you sipped at your drink and pulled your strapless dress up under your armpits. 

“You both didn’t need to do this. It’s so sweet.” You tell them both and Rio’s hand finds the back of your chair like she’s got to grip onto something. Agatha’s not going to waste this opportunity and her hand falls on yours. 

You sit there for twenty or so minutes. Rio leans as close as she can to you as she tells you two a story. Agatha’s hand doesn’t move from on top of yours on the table. And eventually your other hand traces her knuckles and the veins in her strong hand. You make small paths on her skin like you always knew which way the road curved to her body. 

You throw your head back and laugh fully at Rio’s punch line and even Agatha is finding it funny. 

That’s when someone clears their throat and you turn to see Bucky standing there. 

“Bucky!” You squeak in delight standing and dropping out of the fuzzy threesome you were getting a head high from. 

Rio and Agatha looked at each other trying to silently ask ‘who the fuck is he?’

You stand and throw your arms around his neck. He looks so good in his tux. His hair is down for once and loose around his shoulders. You feel his arms circle around your backless dress and he’s laughing at your response. 

“I missed you!” You tell him since he’d been away so long. 

“I would have called sooner I promise. But I got in like two hours ago. I hoped you’d be here Bergman!” He teased and Rio glared at him before interrupting.

“Bergman?” She seethed a little at the nickname. 

“Oh, hi I’m Bucky Barnes, yeah when we were younger she showed me Casablanca and she called me Bogart and so I of course call her..” Bucky put his hand out like it fell in the blanks. 

“Bergman.” Agatha seethed right along with Rio. 

You released him from the hug and he breathed a sigh of relief seeing you. Looking up and down at your appearance and seeming to enjoy himself.  

“So you came to your shitty exe’s shitty wedding. I thought for sure you were going to call me. I said I’d be your plus one!” Bucky flirted and Agatha put her drink down so it didn’t shatter in her hand. Bucky looked over at Agatha and Rio to explain himself. 

“I left her a message a week ago with this crazy idea to pretend we got together so Natasha and Wanda could shove it. They’re nauseating, but I figured if I played my cards right I might end up with a real date at the end of the night. Crazy am I right?” He teased and both Rio and Agatha gave him a look that was closer to murderous than any serial killer he’d ever seen. 

Bucky gulped before putting his hand out to Agatha. 

“It’s nice to meet a friend of Bergman’s.” He tried and Agatha grabbed the hand and Bucky winced at the strength of her grip. 

“I’m Mrs. Bergman actually.” Agatha showed her teeth like she was going to take a bite out of his throat. 

“Mrs.? You got married?” Bucky turned to look at you. And you smiled and held up the hand that had the ring on it. 

“Guilty!”

“You didn’t even invite me?  I’m officially mad at you! You know I can cut a rug!” He teased and Agatha squeezed his hand one more time and he flinched from the pain. 

“You’ve been hard to get a hold of!” You say instead, unsure of what story Agatha had spun to Wanda and Nat. She didn’t want to say ‘it was a small gathering,’ if Bucky went to talk to Wanda and the story didn’t match up. 

“Never that hard to get ahold of! I would have dropped everything to see you in white kiddo.” Bucky told you warmly and you felt guilty now. He turned finally getting his hand back from your wife. To hold it out to Rio. “I’m sorry to be rude, and you are?” He said politely. 

“Rio, the girlfriend.” 

“Girlfriend?” He said confused, wondering if perhaps it was a girl thing and she meant friend. 

“I lick both their pussies, I’m their girlfriend.” Rio supplied and Bucky laughed awkwardly and Rio made his pinky knuckle pop in pain from her grip. He yanked his poor hand back and turned to you. 

“You sure showed them huh? Guess you didn’t need a fake date after all.”

You laugh at the irony of the whole thing. 

“Well I have to go see our shared EX Natasha. And steal some food and perhaps a few drinks from the open bar. Then I need to hear how this all went down. I mean you’ve told me about Agatha and Rio non stop. I knew you were in love but you said it wasn’t mutual, so I gotta hear how this all went down. Oh, and if your lovely ladies don’t mind I will steal a dance too! So don’t run off!” He says as he buttons his tux and ducks his head towards the bar. 

“You will have to pry her out of my old dead hands if you want that dance Barnes.” Agatha says through clenched jaw. But he chuckles like they’re sharing an inside joke and he waives his hand and then goes to get a few shots of vodka.  

You turn and look at them. 

“Guys, what the hell?” You say and Agatha stands grabbing your hand and pulling you towards the building. The outdoor wedding continued on and you heard Rio keeping up with you. 

The sound of ‘Souja Boy’ came on and the loud background noise of people drinking and dancing was slowly gettin lower as the distance between you three and the reception grew. 

Agatha opened a backdoor to the building and she eyed the ground floor before deciding on the stairs and you three had clicking loud heels against the old dark stained staircase. 

When Agatha found a large loungeroom with a lock she pushed you and Rio inside. Before locking it. It was obviously a room for the wedding party. There were gifts and a vanity for the bride to get ready in. It was all whites and creams. One long antique mirror in the corner. 

“Agatha what is going o-” 

Agatha kissed you to shut you up. And you panicked not kissing her back now. And she growled and pulled back in frustration. 

“So you can kiss your wife in front of your exes but not here?” Agatha sounded hurt and you didn’t understand. Rio’s hands found your hips from behind. 

“Sweetie, be a good girl and kiss Agatha like you mean it.” Rio says and the heatness pools down in your belly so fast. You didn’t know Rio’s voice could go low and sexy like that. But god now you’d never unhear it. 

Agatha leaned in slowly now more like a lover asking than demanding like before. You didn’t need to be told twice. You eagerly met her mouth halfway and kissed her like you’d dreamed of. Trying to convey all the feelings you’d had for her. 

Agatha moaned again, and it gave you the courage you needed as you let your tongue tease her now. Aggie pulled your face closer for more. 

Rio from behind kissed the back of your neck and you were sure your knees would give out from both of their touch. 

Rio pulled the hair pins out of your scalp. Your hair fell out of it’s tight bun. Rio wrapped her hand in your hair like it was rope. She waited for a moment letting Agatha savor the kiss a second more. 

Before she yanked you by your hair back and you moaned at the roughness. 

Agatha glared at her ex. Were they ex’s?

“Rio, you need to wait your turn.” She chastised but Rio twisted around you to kiss you. 

It held all the need and arousal she’d felt waiting for you to wake up and see her. See her waiting for her chance to be with you. 

Thank god both of them were holding you close because you forgot how to stand and they caught you. Rio broke the kiss to help with your little trust fall. 

“Easy Bunny.” Agatha’s voice was pornographic in her ears and Rio walked backwards to the small three legged stool. The one used for the bride to sit on to apply her make up. 

Rio sat down and Agatha found the zipper of your dress and it dropped to your legs. You didn’t have time to think about being self conscious.

Your thong wasn’t doing anyone any good, and Agatha considered it a gift to everyone to rid you of them.

 You thought you’d died when you saw her put them in her blazer pocket. Before taking off the jacket and throwing it on top of one of the large piles of gifts. Now the witch was only in her button down and you saw her bra peaking out. 

Because four hands were guiding you to sit on Rio’s lap. Both of your wedding dates had a lot more of their clothes on, than you did. 

But your mind short circuited when Rio wrapped her heels around your ankles and pulled your legs apart with her own. You were both sitting with wide legs and Agatha had a full show. 

Rio’s dark fingernails held your rib cage before brushing teasingly under your breast. Your breath hitched. 

“This is your last chance Bunny. You’ve teased Rio and I entirely too long. We’ve watched you with too many stupid partners. You get this last chance, you tell us to stop and we will. But if this continues you aren’t taking that wedding ring off. And Rio is going to be a lot more than your girlfriend when we walk out of this room. You are ours. No more waiting for you to text and having to watch you date losers. Rio and I won’t be going home at the end of the night after a coven meeting or too much wine. You will be ours, understood?” Agatha told you as she rolled up her sleeves and you were sure this was a dream, but your mind couldn’t have made something this well up. Your imagination just wasn’t this skilled. 

“Answer her.” Rio said from behind kissing your shoulder once, twice, and then biting down hard.

You moaned throwing your head back. 

“YOURS! You both own me! No one else, never again.” You cry out and Agatha grins like she’s won the war. 

“You don’t know how true that statement is hon.” Agatha sank to her knees and your eyes widened as she didn’t play with you, she’d had entirely too much foreplay with you for a lifetime. You were hers now. 

Agatha ate your pussy like it wasn’t about your ejoyement, but rather she was getting her meal. And something about that was so dirty, Agatha didn’t stop for anything. 

Your knees shook as you wanted to close them, and Agatha knew your body too well for only having you for a few minutes. As she grabbed both your thighs and kept you open. Pining you with her hold. 

“She looks pretty down there doesn’t she?” Rio whispered  as her fingers finally came to your nipples and you gushed from their attention. 

“You don’t know how long we’ve been talking about this baby. We used to plan your stupid girlfriends deaths on a Saturday night. You made us wait so long. You could have had Agatha’s mouth on you from day one. You know that? We’ve wanted you so long. Now you are ours. No one will take you away ever again. Oh those noises you make are so sweet. Are you going to cum that fast? How pathetic, I want it, give it to us.” Rio spoke into your ear and it was all dirty and breathy and you followed her orders and came so fast. 

You screamed out and Rio grabbed your throat and her choking you sent another wave of orgasms through your body. You shook and Agatha finally released your cunt from her talented mouth. 

You closed your eyes feeling the after effects. 

Holy shit. 

When you opened your eyes a few seconds later to find Agatha and Rio making out, enjoying the taste of you together. 

You whimpered at the sight of them kissing. Arousal on Agatha’s face smearing across onto Rio’s. Their lipsticks completely ruined against each other. You reached out Agatha’s arm and they broke the kiss smiling triumphently. 

“You taste even better than we imagined.” Agatha whispered before kissing you and you taste yourself, Rio, and Agatha in the kiss.

 When Agatha breaks away you realize it’s so she can watch what Rio’s going to do to you. 

Rio’s hands traveled down to your abused cunt and she stuck her middle finger inside of you and you gasp. Neither of them seem to want any foreplay. 

Your hips grind, meeting her finger to push against her. 

“Oh Aggie, my love you have to feel her.” Rio moans and you can’t believe you are living this life right now. 

But Agatha listens to her lover and her middle finger makes it’s home next to Rio’s inside of you. 

“OH FUCK!” You yell feeling both of them stretch you before curling together. They work together pushing against your walls. They feel like their everywhere in your womb. 

One of your hands hold Agatha’s forearm and the other goes behind you to grab Rio’s hair and pull. 

“That’s it baby, moan for us. Let the whole wedding party know it’s real. We aren’t your fake date, we aren’t faking anything. Not like you had to do for them. You are going to cum and everyones going to know.” Rio tells you and you bite your lip and let our lengthy moans of agreement. 

“You know, Rio and I were pissed when we found out they were your first threesome. They may be the first. But I promise you sugar, we’ll be your last.” Agatha told you before kissing you hard again. 

You aren’t sure how long you three are in the room. Two hours, maybe three? But it’s dark outside and the fairy lights are pretty you think momentarily before you are thrown back onto your back on the floor. Rio’s straddling your face for the second time, it’s like none of you can get enough. 

You’ve never fucked in so many positions. Your body was sore, a good sore, but sore still. 

Your hands grabbed Rio’s ass cheeks as she sat on your mouth. You licked her abused flesh, her pussy was swollen from being thuroughly fucked. Just like yours and Agatha. It wasn’t about taking turns, it was all emotions and need. No one was left out, no one was ever cold. 

Hands were everywhere, teeth sinking into skin, wet open mouth kisses to taste as much skin and slick arousal as possible. It was just so hot. 

Rio humped your face as your teeth teased her clit, you found quickly that Rio enjoyed a little teeth, a bit of pain with pleasure. But when she kissed you, it was all soft. You felt how much she aodred you. How she coveted touching you, coveted your body. 

Agatha on the other hand, while her hands were rough and possessive. You noticed she felt frenzied. Like a kid at a candy store, Agatha wanted to touch as much of you as possible. Her hands moving to reach places she wanted to hold for herself. Not allow another lover to ever place their greedy paws on. 

When Agatha kissed she controlled it, but somewhere in there she lost herself and would make little noises. Like she was gone, lost in you. 

You’d never felt more cherished in sex. Yet they didn’t touch you like you’d break, they pushed your body to the limit. Seeing how much you could take, hoping you’d break open so they could build you up again. 

But their touches never stopped, someone always needed to be inside someone else. Like the three of you were never satiated. No one took a break which was insane after you weren’t sure how many orgasms. 

Your body was screaming and yet your arousal and love for them was too loud to give into the exhaustion. 

Agatha humped your stomach, her arousal spearing even more against your already sex smelling body. You were covered in their cum. 

Agatha’s hands were playing with Rio’s tits just right and Rio’s hips lost their pattern. 

“Aggie, right there. Oh hell, I can’t last with you two. I’m going to cum again. Fuck Aggie her mouth is so good.” Rio pants and you twist your tongue just so clockwise under her clit and then along the length of her hood and back down. Rio ejaculates onto your face and she almost falls forward from the power of her orgasm. But your hands on her ass, and Agatha catching her around the chest and stomach saves her. 

Still you can’t stop, repositioning. 

Another hour later. 

You three fall to the floor after making Agatha cum particularly hard, you had slapped her ass then bent down and pinched Agatha’s nipple so so hard and Rio smiled at you. Amazed at how perfect you fit for them, as you’d found secret the thing to break Agatha. Who was yelling at the top of her lungs as she came for the fifteen time that night. 

You eased Agatha onto her back, as her knees couldn’t hold her up anymore. 

 Agatha’s eyes were closed in ecstasy. But her hand grabbed your wrist and pulled you down ontop of her. You laughed as your sweaty cum soaked bodies met. 

You knew Aggie liked to cuddle on the sofa, but this was so much better. Rio fell loudly to the floor on the side of you. She grabbed you both and pulled you so you were on your side. Rio spooned you from the back and Agatha from the front. 

You laughed in the space, all the endorphins coming down now. Rio chuckled from behind and Agatha eventually snorted with you two.

When you were all done laughing your body grew tense. The two people who were holding you felt it and opened their eyes to look at you.

“Now what?” You ask, and your voice shows how scared you are. 

You couldn’t lose them. But what if this had just been a …one time thing? Or maybe they were making you feel better? You couldn’t look at them again if that was true.

Was it all talk?

“Now once my knees have feeling in them again, we get dressed. Rio’s got to reapply her lipstick. And we all go downstairs and dance. I haven’t gotten my turn yet. And we take you home, crawl into bed and sleep. In the morning Rio will hog all of the hot water when we all get into your tiny ass bathroom. Rio will make breakfast, I’ll make that tea you like. The way I know you like it. And we’ll just..never leave.”

Agatha said like it was the easiest thing in the world. 

Rio bent down and kissed your shoulder in complete agreement and you tried so hard not to get emotional. 

“Really?” Your voice cracked and Agatha kissed your forehead. 

“Really.” She said seriously. 

“We should move into Agatha’s place. Because your landlord is the worst.” Rio said in true U-Haul fashion. You knew it would all happen fast. Because you’d really been dating this whole time. It might not have been sexual and have all the wonderful kisses. But you realized they’d just been waiting for you to wake up and see it. 

Agatha and Rio had been romancing you, wooing you this whole time. 

“Well that and I have the biggest bed and tub.” Agatha liked Rio’s words and it was so sweet hearing them planning your lives together. 

“I want to get a pet. And one of those electric tea kettles. ” You added your eyes closed as you yawn. You figured if you were all making demands you might as well get your complete happy ending. 

“A dog?” Rio asked and Agatha scoffed in horror. 

“Cat?” You ask and Rio shakes her head against your back. 

“Rabbit.” Agatha decided and you all like the sound of that. 

“Our wedding is gonna be so much better than their wedding.” Rio laughed and had all shared the same rude thought; Wanda and Nat’s party was a little cringey. 

“Evidently Agatha already picked the band.” You murmured and Agatha brushed your hair back as Rio rubbed your butt in soothing circles. 

“Well, she got you a ring too. I gotta catch up evidently.”

“Hey Vidal, it’s not my fault I came prepared and you only walked in late with the girlfriend title.” Agatha teased but there was no malice there and you felt them lean across you and kiss sweetly. Before Rio fell back to her spot behind you. 

“One thing is for certain though.”

“What?” You ask feeling sleep threatening to take you.

“You are not dancing with anyone else, and never a man who calls himself Bucky.” Agatha says possesively letting her hand splay across your tummy. 

You giggle at them and you hear Rio adding in ‘stupid name anyway.’

After putting your clothes back on and Rio reapplying lipstick. You decided to leave your hair down to try and hite the bites. But it was no use. Rejoining the party you didn’t get to sit and drink. No, your partners were taking you onto the dance floor again.  

You were glad for Natasha’s limited knowledge of music now. Because ‘Hips Don’t Lie’ was on. Rio was in so close as she kissed your hickey covered neck as you danced in a filthy manner. 

Agatha had her hands running all over you from behind. If people didn’t believe you three were an item before, they were getting a front row show to it now.  

The three of you were grinding like you’d been the extra’s in Dirty Dancing. It was all bodys pressed tight, hands fondling breasts and hungry kisses. It was hot and you felt bad for anyone here with kids. 

But you weren’t sure you weren’t pregnant just from the way they were dancing with you. 

Perhaps Bucky’s idea wasn’t so ridiculous after all. 

The air was a thick, wet blanket you had to chew through, tasting of chlorophyll and decay. Isla Nublar breathed around you, a living, monstrous thing, and every rustle in the undergrowth was a potential death sentence. But the most dangerous thing in this jungle, the predator that had your absolute, undivided attention, was the woman walking ten feet ahead.

Zora Bennett.

Even her name was a sin on your tongue. She moved like a liquid shadow, her every step sure and silent on the damp earth. A fine sheen of sweat plastered her dark tank top to the hard-muscled planes of her back, a roadmap of sinews and strength that made your mouth go dry. Mud, a rich, dark brown, caked her tactical pants and smeared a streak across one high, sharp cheekbone. A smudge of grime kissed the corded column of her throat, right above the racing pulse you couldn't stop staring at.

Duncan was saying something up ahead, his voice a low, urgent murmur about proximity to the nesting grounds. You should have been listening. You were the goddamn biologist, the one who was supposed to be analyzing spore samples and identifying toxic flora. Instead, your brain was a useless, humming hive of a single, all-consuming thought.

*I want to lick her clean.*

The thought was an electric shock, hot and shameful and so intensely powerful it rooted you to the spot. Your fingers, slick inside your tactical gloves, twitched. You imagined kneeling before her, right here in the primordial filth of this jungle. You’d start with that smudge on her cheek, your tongue darting out to taste the salt of her sweat, the grit of the earth. Would she taste like power? Like the storm brewing in the bruised-purple sky overhead?

Zora stopped, holding up a hand. The gesture was crisp, efficient. A silent command for the team to halt. You nearly walked right into her, catching yourself at the last second, your breath hitching. She smelled of rain and iron and something uniquely, intoxicatingly *her*.

"We're close," she whispered, her voice a low thrum that vibrated straight through your bones and settled deep in your belly. She didn’t look at you. Her gaze, sharp as obsidian shards, scanned the dense wall of ferns and cycads ahead. "Stay sharp."

*Stay sharp?* The irony was a bitter laugh trapped in your throat. You were as dull as a stone, blunted by a fantasy so vivid you could almost feel the rough texture of her skin against your tongue, the slide of sweat and dirt yielding to your mouth. You imagined working your way down, over the taut line of her jaw, to that pulse fluttering in her neck. You’d lick away the grime there, slowly, methodically, feeling her heartbeat quicken against your lips. You’d clean every inch of her, a reverent, filthy baptism, until she was gleaming and gasping under your ministrations.

"You getting this?"

Zora’s head had turned just enough, one piercing eye pinning you. She hadn't moved, hadn't broken her predator's stance, but her focus was now a laser beam aimed directly at you. A flicker of... something... crossed her face. Annoyance? Concern? You couldn’t tell. Your mind was too full of the imagined taste of her collarbones, the salty valley between her breasts.

"Y-yeah," you managed to stammer out, your voice cracking like a dry twig. "Yeah, Zora. Got it. Sharp."

A low growl, deep and guttural, echoed from the trees ahead. It wasn't human. It was big, hungry, and close. Duncan swore under his breath, raising his rifle. But your heart was pounding for an entirely different reason.

Because Zora turned fully toward you, a silent question in her eyes. And in that moment, all you could think was that if you were going to be eaten by a dinosaur, your last regret would be dying without ever knowing if Zora Bennett tasted as divine as you imagined.

(...)

The cave was a welcome wound in the mountainside, a dark, damp respite from the relentless humidity and the things with teeth that hunted in it. Duncan found it, a blessedly defensible position with a single entrance and a steady drip of filtered water in the back that you all agreed was the sweetest thing you'd ever tasted. A small, smokeless fire pushed back the oppressive darkness, its flames painting dancing, distorted shadows on the slick obsidian walls. The air was cool, smelling of wet stone and ozone. Safe. For now.

Duncan was out in moments, his snores a soft rumble against the vast, terrifying silence of the island night. He was a good man, a rock. But your mind wasn't on him. It was on the silhouette framed by the cave's mouth.

Zora.

She’d taken the first watch without a word, a rifle resting comfortably in her lap as she stared out into the blue-black jungle. She was a gargoyle carved from granite and shadow, utterly still, utterly vigilant. You tried to sleep. You closed your eyes, rolled over on your bedroll, but the image of her was seared onto the backs of your eyelids: the sweat on her skin, the mud on her cheek, the raw power humming off her in waves. The fantasy from the jungle returned, more potent now in the quiet dark, your tongue tingling with the ghost of a taste you’d never had.

Sleep was impossible.

Your movements were quiet as you rose, your bare feet cold against the stone floor. You approached her back, your heart a frantic drum against your ribs. She didn't turn, but you knew she'd heard you from the first shift of your weight.

"Couldn't sleep?" Her voice was a low murmur, softer than before, stripped of its battlefield urgency.

"Thought you might want some company," you whispered, sinking down to sit on the rock beside her. Not touching, but close enough to feel the heat radiating from her body, a furnace against the cave's chill.

For a long moment, you just sat in silence, watching the jungle breathe.

"You're not like the others they usually saddle me with," Zora said, her eyes still fixed on the darkness. "The scientists. You're quiet. You watch."

"It's my job to observe," you replied, a half-truth. "I see things. The way a leaf curls when it's toxic. The patterns of bioluminescent fungi." You hesitated, then took the plunge. "The way someone holds themselves when they're carrying the weight of the world."

That made her turn. In the flickering firelight, her eyes weren't just sharp; they were deep, holding galaxies of exhaustion and a history you couldn't begin to fathom. A small, humorless smile touched her lips.

"Is that what I look like?"

"You look like you've been fighting for a very long time," you said, your voice barely audible. "I... I get it. In a way. My whole life has been in labs. Sterile, controlled. I took this job because I was suffocating. I needed to feel something real, even if it killed me."

The confession hung in the air between you, fragile and shockingly honest. You expected her to scoff, to turn away. Instead, she just watched you, her gaze intense, searching.

"My mother had a garden," she said, so quietly you almost missed it. "Roses. Tiny little ones, you could hold a whole bloom on your fingertip. She'd spend all day in the dirt. Said it was the only place the world made sense." She finally looked away, back out at the jungle. "Funny. Her ending up in the dirt, me ending up in the mud."

The vulnerability in that admission, that tiny crack in her armor, was more intimate than any touch. The air thickened, charged with everything unsaid. The tension wasn't just in your head anymore; it was a living thing in the space between you, coiling and tightening. She seemed to feel it too. Her posture had softened, her shoulders losing some of their rigid set. She was paying attention to you now. Not as a mission asset, but as... something else.

Her eyes drifted from the jungle back to your face, and this time, they didn't just look. They roamed. They traced the line of your lips, lingered on your throat, and when they met your own gaze again, they were dark with a new, startling awareness.

"You're staring," she murmured, and it wasn't an accusation. It was a statement of fact, laced with a low, dangerous hum of curiosity.

"So are you," you breathed back, and the sound of your own voice, thick with want, was the only permission either of you needed. The world snapped shut, shrinking to this single, searing point in time. The jungle, the dinosaurs, the mission; it all evaporated like mist in the face of the storm gathering in Zora's eyes.

Her gaze dropped to your mouth, a slow, deliberate act of ownership. "And what, exactly, are you thinking about so hard?" she asked, her voice dropping into a husky, predatory register that made the fine hairs on your arms stand on end. "You've been looking at me all day like you want to eat me alive."

The directness of it should have shocked you, but it only stoked the fire. All pretense was gone. "Maybe I do," you whispered, your own voice trembling with a need so profound it ached in your teeth. "You're filthy."

The words hung in the air, a dirty, perfect prayer. A slow, wicked smile spread across Zora's lips. It was the most terrifying and arousing thing you had ever seen. She leaned in, her breath ghosting across your skin, smelling of ration bars and pure, undiluted power.

"Am I?" she murmured against your ear, her lips brushing the sensitive shell. A full-body shiver wracked you. "Show me."

The command echoed in the silent cave: "Show me." It was a challenge, a promise, and a key unlocking a cage inside you you hadn't even known existed. Your hands rose, trembling, to cup Zora's grime-smeared face. The fantasy you'd nurtured all day in the sweltering jungle heat was about to become reality.

Your tongue darted out, tracing the dirt on her cheek. The taste of salt, earth, and Zora sent a shock straight to your core. A low, satisfied rumble vibrated in your chest, and your eyes closed in surrender.

"Fuck, yes," she growled. "Just like that."

You were wild, a creature of pure need. You licked a clean path down her jaw, over the frantic pulse in her throat, your mission to cleanse her with your mouth. She let you, for a moment, before her control snapped. Her hand tangled brutally in your hair, pulling your head back. Her mouth crashed against yours, the kiss intense and demanding.

When she broke the kiss, you were both panting, foreheads pressed together. "You think you know what you want?" she said, her voice husky and deep. "You have no idea."

Her hand slid from your hair, down your front, but instead of touching you, she grabbed your wrist. Her grip was iron. She pulled your hand down, away from her chest, past the hard surface of her stomach, and pressed it firmly against the front of her pants.

You froze.

Beneath the fabric was something. It was long, thick, and impossibly hard. A heavy, throbbing cock pressed insistently against your palm. Your mind short-circuited. Your breath hitched. You looked from your hand on her crotch to her face. Her eyes were black holes of pure lust, and a slow, cruel, and utterly arousing smile spread across her lips.

"There's something a little... dirty down here too," she purred, her hips giving a light, deliberate thrust against your palm. "Think that talented mouth of yours can handle a bigger cleaning job?"

The world tilted on its axis. Shock, awe, and a wave of desperate, degenerate desire washed over you.

"On your knees," she commanded, her voice dropping to a low whisper that left no room for disobedience.

You practically fell to your knees before her. The stone was cool against your knees, but you barely felt it. Your gaze was fixed on her as she undid her belt in one swift motion. She tugged at the fabric impatiently, exposing her erection.

She was magnificent. A thick, heavy cock sprang free, impossibly hard. It jutted between her legs, proud and intimidating, a drop of clear, glistening pre-cum already welling in the raging slit at its head. It was a weapon. A promise. And it was all for you.

"So?" she said, her voice deep and impatient. "Don't just stare. Suck it."

You leaned forward, your breath ghosting over the glistening tip. You flicked your tongue, savoring the first drop of her arousal. It was salty, divine. Zora hissed, her hands gripping your hair, her hips thrusting forward.

"Yes," she grunted. "Take it."

You obeyed. You took the head of her cock into your mouth, sucking gently, your tongue swirling around the sensitive crown. Zora's hips began to move, a slow, hypnotic rhythm, fucking your mouth.

"Fuck, you were made for this," she moaned, throwing her head back. "Look at you. My filthy little slut, on her knees, choking on my cock like you were born to do this."

Her words set you on fire. You took more of her, your throat stretching, your jaw aching with the most exquisite pleasure. Your hands came up to grip her muscular thighs, gripping them with your nails as she set the pace. She was relentless, withdrawing almost completely only to thrust back deep into your throat, over and over. Each thrust was a filthy prayer, each gasp of air an exhibition of her power.

"Swallow me whole," she growled, her pace growing faster, more frantic. "I want to feel you take every inch."

You could feel the tension building in her body, the way her thighs trembled beneath your hands. Her climax was near, a storm about to break.

"I'm going to come," she panted, her voice tight, her grip on your hair like a vise. "Open your throat for me, baby. Take it all. Show me how much you want it."

Your body went rigid. A raw, animalistic scream escaped you as she flooded the back of your throat with her thick, hot cum. You swallowed reflexively, absorbing everything she had to give, your eyes watering, a tear of pure, ecstatic submission tracing a path through the mess on your own cheek. You didn't stop moving your mouth until her last tremor had passed and she was on top of you, panting, completely exhausted.

You remained there, kneeling in a pool of your own drool, staring up at your war goddess. She stared at you, her eyes glazed, a look of raw possession on her face.

"Good girl," she said huskily, leaning down to run her finger over your swollen lips. "Don't move. We're just getting started."

(...)

"Yes!" The word was a raw, fragmented prayer, torn from your throat. You trembled on the cold stone floor, the ghostly sensation of Zora's cock filling your mouth so intense it brought you to the brink of orgasm. Your face was sticky, your heart was a wild drum against your ribs, and your eyes, wide with adoration, were fixed on the war goddess standing over you.

Zora's chest heaved, her magnificent cock slick and glistening in the firelight. Seeing her there, a devoted, sobbing wreck at your feet, lit a new fire in your eyes. This wasn't just about her release; it was about your complete and utter subjugation.

"You liked that, didn't you?" she purred, her voice a low, predatory rumble. "My good girl. So eager to please." She let her cock brush against your cheek in a slow, taunting caress before pulling back. The loss of contact made you moan.

"Do you want your reward?" she asked, her voice dropping to a deadly serious whisper. "Do you want me to fill you properly? Then prove you can handle it." Her eyes narrowed. "Turn around. Hands on the wall."

Your body obeyed without thinking. You positioned yourself quickly, planting your palms on the cool, damp stone, pushing your ass toward her like an explicit invitation. An offering. You were hers to use, hers to desecrate. You heard her step behind you, and the heat of her body was a palpable force.

SMACK!

The sound was like a gunshot in the silent cave. A hard, stinging blow landed squarely on your ass. You screamed, a jolt of pure pleasure and electric pain coursing through your body.

"This is mine," Zora growled, her voice right next to your ear. She slapped you again, harder this time, on the other side. "Every inch of you. Mine to mark. Mine to fuck."

You were panting, the burning already turning into a deep, welcome ache. You felt her press against you from behind, the huge, hot head of her cock nudging your entrance. It was slick with her own cum and saliva.

"Beg for it," she commanded.

"Please, Zora," you sobbed, thrusting your hips against her. "Please, fuck me. Fill me. Please."

"As you wish."

She grabbed a fistful of your hair, pulling your head back, exposing your neck. With her other hand, she guided the tip of her cock to your entrance. She pushed. Slowly. Deliberately. You gasped as your body stretched to accommodate her, a burning, tearing sensation that was the most intense pain you had ever known. And also the most delicious. You were tight, but so wet for her, you took her inch by inch, agonizing and glorious.

When she was buried to the hilt, she stayed still for a moment, letting you feel the impossible fullness of her. She was a solid, living thing deep inside you, possessing you, stretching you, claiming you.

"Fuck!" you cried out, tears of ecstasy streaming down your face.

"That's it!" she grunted, and began to move. Her hips moved in a steady, brutal rhythm. Her hand remained locked in your hair, using it as a handle to slam your body against the cave wall with each powerful thrust.

"Look at you," she growled, quickening her pace. "Taking my cock like you were born for nothing else. My little sex toy."

As the pleasure built into an unbearable crescendo, her free hand came around, wrapping around your throat. Her grip wasn't meant to kill, but to control. To feel the frantic pulse of your life under her palm. To stifle the scream she knew was coming. You clawed at the stone wall as she fucked you harder, faster, her knuckles digging into your ass with every deep stroke.

"You feel that? You're so tight around me," she growled, her thumb pressing into your windpipe. "You're going to come for me, slut. You're going to scream into my hand."

Her thumb pressed harder. The world began to shrink to a pinpoint of glittering, overwhelming sensation. Her cock hitting your cervix, the sting on your ass, her hand on your throat, her filthy words in your ear, it all converged. Your back arched, your body locked tight, and a strangled, muffled scream tore from your lungs as your orgasm ripped through you. You convulsed violently around her cock, your release painting your inner thighs.

Feeling you come sent Zora over the edge. With a final, guttural roar, she emptied herself deep inside you, her body going rigid as she flooded your womb with her seed.

She collapsed against you, burying her face in your neck, both of you panting, slick with sweat. She stayed deep inside you, not pulling out.

She let you catch your breath for a moment before biting your shoulder, hard.

"That's a good girl," she whispered, her voice a ragged, triumphant rumble against your skin. "Now you know where you belong. Full of my cock and my come."

(...)

Hours bled together in a haze of blissful aches and the lingering scent of sex. You dozed fitfully at the mouth of the cave, your head pillowed on Zora's thigh as she kept watch, her hand resting proprietorially on your hair. The quiet rumble of Duncan’s snores was the only sound besides the jungle's symphony.

That rumble eventually sputtered and ceased, replaced by a groan and the rustle of a sleeping bag. "Zora?" Duncan’s voice was thick with sleep. "My watch."

Zora gave your shoulder a gentle squeeze. "Go on," she murmured, her voice a low command meant only for you. "Back of the cave. Get some sleep." The unspoken promise in her words sent a fresh jolt of arousal through you.

You scrambled away, disappearing into the deeper shadows at the back of the cave as Duncan stumbled forward to take Zora's place by the fire. You heard their quiet exchange, the handover of the rifle, the report of a quiet watch. Then, Zora's footsteps, soft on the stone floor, approached.

You were already in your sleeping bag, the thin material a poor substitute for her heat. The bag zipped open. Zora slid in behind you, her body a furnace against your back. She was still fully dressed, the fabric of her pants and the soft cotton of her shirt an abrasive, erotic friction against your skin. For a moment, you just stood there, bathed in darkness and the sound of Duncan settling in just a few dozen meters away. Risk was a potent aphrodisiac.

Then Zora's arm snaked around you, pulling you impossibly against her chest. Her lips found the sensitive skin behind your ear. "Did you miss me?" she whispered, her breath hot and promising.

You turned in the cramped space to face her. "Desperately," you breathed, your hands coming up to cup her face, your thumbs tracing the strong line of her jaw.

Her mouth found yours in the darkness. This kiss wasn't the brutal conquest it had been before. It was slow, deep, and infinitely more possessive. Her tongue invaded your mouth, a lazy, trusting exploration. It was a kiss that said you are mine. You kissed her back with desperate, hungry adoration, your fingers tangling in her hair.

You felt a familiar hardness pressing against your belly. Zora broke the kiss, her breathing already heavy. "I'm not done with you," she growled, her voice a low vibration against your lips. "Not even close."

She shifted, and you heard the hiss of her zipper. Her cock sprang free, hot and heavy, pressing against your belly. Even in the near darkness, you could feel its size, its heat. Your hands immediately reached for it, wrapping around the thick, smooth shaft. It throbbed in your hands.

"That's it, sweetheart," Zora praised, her voice a husky whisper. "You know what you want."

You didn't need anyone to tell you. You released her cock only to turn onto your stomach, arching your back slightly in the small space of the sleeping bag, and pushing your ass against her crotch. You shifted, hooking your thumbs in the waistband of your own pants and pulling them down enough to bare your hips, to release yourself for her. Your hole, still slick and aching from the previous fuck, begged for her.

Zora chuckled softly, a low, naughty sound. "Such a slut, so hungry for my cock."

Her hand guided it to your entrance. You were so ready, so open, that she slid inside you with a single, slow, magnificent thrust. A gasp escaped your throat, which you stifled against her arm. She filled you completely, her hips flush against your ass, her cock buried to the hilt inside you.

Her arms wrapped around you, pulling you tightly against her chest as she began to fuck you. The rhythm was slow, deep, and silent. It wasn't the frantic, desperate fucking of before. This was an act of ownership, a deep, grinding claim made just feet away from your oblivious companion.

"That's right," she whispered directly into your ear, her voice a venomous, loving poison. "Take my cock. Let me fill you up while he stands watch. Let him protect the cave while I use you like the fuckhole you are."

Each slow, deep stroke was a fresh wave of bliss, the stretch and pull a maddening friction. You bit down on your knuckle to keep from screaming as she buried herself inside you, over and over, marking you as hers in the secret, shared darkness.

Zora's words were a brand, searing themselves into your mind even as her cock seared its way through your body. The slow, deliberate fucking was a special kind of torture, a deep, grinding possession that promised a pleasure so profound it was terrifying. Each deliberate retreat was a small death; each deep, pressing thrust was a rebirth into a world where only she mattered.

Her hand slid around your waist. Her calloused fingers traced patterns on your stomach before moving lower. You gasped against her arm when her thumb found your clit. You were already so close, so sensitive, that the first circle she traced there almost made you lose control.

"Shhh," she whispered, her lips brushing your ear. Her hips quickened their pace slightly, the slow grind turning into a merciless, steady pounding that matched the rhythm of her thumb. "Don't want Duncan to hear how I'm making my little slut fall apart, do we?"

The mention of his name, the sheer audacity of it, was gasoline on the fire. You were being wrecked, unmade, just feet from your clueless squadmate. You bit down harder on your arm, the taste of salt and fabric on your tongue, trying to muffle the whimpering moans that were escaping your throat.

Suddenly, from the front of the cave, there was a loud crackle as a log shifted in the fire, followed by the sound of Duncan clearing his throat.

You both froze instantly.

Zora's body went rigid, her cock still buried deep inside you, hot and heavy. Her hand stilled between your legs. You held your breath, every muscle tense, listening to the darkness. The seconds stretched into an eternity. All you could feel was the throbbing of her cock inside you and the frantic hammering of your own heart. After a moment, you heard the soft rustle of Duncan shifting, settling back into the cave entrance. The danger had passed.

Zora let out a slow, silent sigh against your neck. Then she bit your shoulder, a strong, possessive bite. "Holy shit," she breathed, her voice thick with dangerous excitement. "That was close."

The adrenaline of near-discovery sent a new, violent wave of lust through you. You thrust your hips against her, a silent, desperate plea for more.

She obeyed. Her thrusts became frantic, deeper, charged with a new, reckless energy. She was fucking you like she was trying to drive you through the floor of the cave. Her thumb was a relentless torment on your clit.

"You're so wet," she growled, her voice a low, guttural growl. "So tight around my cock. You're going to come now. You're going to come so hard, and you're not going to make a fucking sound."

Her hand lifted from your clit and pressed it firmly over your mouth, sealing the scream she knew was building in your lungs. Her fingers pressed against your cheeks, holding you. It was the final key. The loss of control, the forced silence, the raw, brutal friction of her body against and inside yours was too much.

Your world dissolved into white-hot static. Your back arched violently, and a silent, piercing scream ripped through you, captured entirely by her palm. Your body convulsed around her cock, squeezing you in wave after violent wave of pure, unadulterated ecstasy. You came so hard you saw stars behind your closed eyelids.

Your orgasm was the only trigger she needed. Feeling you shatter around her, Zora let out a muffled, strangled moan into your shoulder. Her hips slammed against you one last time, a final thrust, deep and possessive as she spilled inside you, filling you again.

For a long moment, the two of you lay there, tangled in the sleeping bag, panting silently in the dark. Her hand slowly slipped from your mouth, slick with your saliva. She remained deep inside you, a potent, visceral reminder of who you belonged to.

She pressed a slow, wet kiss to your sweaty back.

“They're more like mutations,” you hear one man say as you retreat.

“What do you mean, mutations?” a woman asks.

“Abnormalities, deviations.”

She snaps. “I know what the word means, what does it mean here, where we are?”

Her voice gets quieter as you fall further into the jungle. You could almost scoff. Abnormalities was one word for this island. Those loud people had no idea what they were in for. They'd probably die. “...they'll probably die...” you whisper hoarsely to yourself.  “...no more die.” You finish, turning back. “...me help.”

Your bare feet sink into mud patches and leaves as soil becomes sandier, the sound of the waves rolling up what should've been a peaceful shore at this time. Your stomach growls angrily, usually full of old Spinosaurus leftovers by now, but not today. Not when these loud people had forced them out of daily feeding with something bigger. Human meat, as opposed to fish or sharks.

“You...not meant be here,” you say quietly from perch on a rock.

Five confused faces turn to look at you. “What the hell...” the another man mutters.

“Told you, they were working on some real shit here,” the first man replies, his white pants already stained with sand.

“Thats a kid,” a third man says, pushing glasses up his nose. “What's a kid doing on an abandoned dinosaur island?”

“Yes,” you nod your head seriously. “Dinosaur. You...need go.”

The white pants man sighs. “Yeah, nice try kid. We've got business on this island.”

“Don't brush the kid off, Martin, they've clearly been here a while. Why can't we be here?” The woman asks, walking towards your rock.

You pause, your brain processing her words in a way it hadn't had to do in years. “Not here safe. You...bring dinosaur.” You tell her, pointing at the Spinosaurus fin just off the coast. “Make danger f'me...eating.”

“Eating?” The man with the glasses asks. You point at a carcass not too far down the shore, now guarded by Spinosaurs. “You...humans can't eat raw meat.”

“Can.”

“You can't.”

“Can.”

The woman cuts him off. “Henry, don't argue with the kid. They've probably been eating raw meat for a while.”

“Zora...” Henry, the glasses man, sighs. You stick your tongue out at him, then abruptly stop, leaning back on your feet on the rock. “Time to go,” you say quietly, eyes fixated on a suspiciously hungry looking spinosaurus before leaping off the rock and sprinting into the forest.

“Go...where?” The white pants man asks as you sprint.

“Theyre right,” another man replies, his eyes finding the same thing you did. That was a hungry looking dinosaur...probably because the ship had scared away lunch. “Follow them!”

Zora nods, slinging a backpack over her shoulder before hurrying after the men, Henry and Martin behind her.

You feet sink into the ground again, leaving bare toe marks in the mud, quickly filled with water. Low branches and bushes whip at your legs, shiny with old sweat. Left at the flower tree, right at the rocks.

“Come on, hurry up! We're gonna lose them!” you hear distantly from behind you.

“This way!” you call. “More quick!”

An abandoned concrete building becomes visible through dense trees and leaves, most of it covered by vines or moss. Abandoned, left behind to rot like everything else on the island. It was home. Safe and dry.

“Here...home,” you murmur to yourself, ducking down to crawl through a hole in the old crumbling walls. Spinosaurs never came this far into the forest, even with six humans on the line.

Loud pants behind you, barely covered by the sound of leaves and twigs crunching under heavy boots. “Hey, kid,” another pant as the glasses man, Henry, pushes his head through the hole. “You gotta start running slower.”

“Stay...here safe,” you tell them quietly, all five now crawling inside the building, sitting on your bed made of leaves and old lab coats.

“I told you. We've got business on this island, and we need to finish it,” Martin tells you gruffly.

“No! Not safe now. Later..safe.”

“We've got 24 hours—”

Zora rolls her eyes, utting him off. “Save it. They clearly know what they're talking about.”

“We aren't getting those blood samples by sitting round in an abandoned building.”

“No!” you snap. “Sit. Not safe.”

“What the hell do you—”

Martin is cut off by a deafening roar tearing through the trees. You crawl towards the broken window, pushing the vines out of the way with your hand. Outside, a pack raptors snaps at each other, probably fighting over something again. “Dont move,” you whisper. “Quiet.”

“I'm telling you—”

“Sh!” you hiss, turning towards him. This man was going to get you all killed. You sink to the floor again, picking at a pile of berries in the corner. “Why..here?”

“We need to collect blood from some of these animals. It's gonna help people if it can make the medicine they're saying it can,” Zora explains.

“Only the richest...” Henry mutters under his breath. Martin ignores him.

Zora sighs. “And you've got a better option?”

“We make it public. Everyone has access, not just the top one percent.”

She scoffs. “Doesnt sound like I make any money in that scenario.” Henry nods, giving a begrudging half smile.

“Is it safe yet? We're on a bit of a tine limit here,” Martin urges. Maybe you should've let the Spinosaurs get him.

“Which bloods?”

“Mosasaurus, which we've got. A Titanosaur and the Queztocoatlus,” Duncan replies.

You shake your head. “You have a death wish. Queztocoatlus is not safe.”

“God, can you take us there or not?” Martin snaps at you. You flinch slightly, fixing your eyes on the berries.

Zora snaps back. “Don't shout at the kid, we'd have been dead if it wasn't for them.”

“Fine,” you hiss. “I help you. Only because you already disrupted feeding time for one dinosaur, youll ruin my routine. We go now.” You finush, shoving a handful of berries into your mouth. “You want?”

Duncan looks down at the pile of berries. Some mushy, mouldy, wet, on a dusty old concrete floor. Leclerc shakes his head. Martin mutters something like "disgusting" under his breath. Zora smiles half politely. “I'll try one, kid.”

You smile happily, clapping two dirty hands together before handing her a small handful.

The forest is dense leading into a wide river of unclear water. You step forward, sinking into it, the water surrounding your stomach. “Be careful where...stand.” You warn, hearing them splash in behind you.

“Naybe that family will know to head for the village,” Zora says.

“God, I hope so,” Duncan replies behind you.

Zora asks. “How far to the next sample?”

Henry clears his throat next to her. “Well according to the satellite imagery the Titanosaur herd stays in the central valley. We should reach them by dawn.”

You shake your head from the front. “Titanosaur herd moves with the season. In summer they stay closer to the forest so the babies live long without the Quetzocoatlus picking them off,” you explain.

“Kid, I believe you've survived here. But satellite data says the herd moved east three weeks ago.”

“Sat-lite not track everyday..” you mutter. “Jusf a little long.”

“How long is a little long?” Martin asks.

“Sooner.”

Zora gasps, spinning in the water. “Be careful where you step, something just moved past my leg,” she warns.

“Just fishy. These not tasty.”

You can hear Zora and Martin whispering at the back. Behind you, Duncan and Henry talk about past jobs and hating the jungle.

“I told you. She screamed, I turned around and she was already gone.”

“Okay, alright,” Zora relents, holding her hands up. “If I find out otherwise thought I'll leave you here and you can rejoin the food chain.”

He chuckles arrogantly, his shoulder banging into you as he wades past with his longer legs. “I'm too smart to die.”

“You're not...” you mutter. Zora laughs, patting your shoulder once.

Henry turns around to look at Martin. “Intelligence is massively overrated as an adoptive trait.” He explains. “Dinosaurs, pretty dumb, right? Survived 168 million years. And we, homo sapiens, geniuses by comparison, only have about 200,000 years so far. We already have the ability to annihilate ourselves.”

“With dinosaurs,” you finish.

“Survival is a long shot.”

He scoffs. “A kid survived here for, what? Thirteen years? I think I can manage.” 

“You should get out the water,” you tell him easily, watching as a slick something moves towards him underwater.

He jumps, crawling out with the breifcasd behind him. Zora snorts. “You hear that? Everyday could be your last. Kid survived, you won't.”

“Now we go on the falling water!” you announce happily. “Best bit.” You tell them, eyes searching the tree line as you stride forwards towards the waterfall pass. “See? Like I walk on water.”

Zora hums, following you over. “Very cool, kid. What are the last two species?”

“Uh, Titanosaurus and Quetzocoatlus. An 11-ton sauropod and a pterosaur the size of a school bus with 30 foot wings.”

“Very big,” you tell them seriously. “And nearly close.”

The forest starts to thin into tall brush, then grass more than five foot tall hiding you completely. The team trails behind, slowing as they enter the valley grass.

“Uh, kid?” Zora asks. “Where'd you go? Kid?”

Martin sighs. “I told you that little shit was gonna abandon us.”

”That 'little shit' has saved your sorry ass more than twice so far.” Zora snaps. “Kid!”

“No shout, I was helping the baby,” you reply, standing on your tiptoes as your forehead appears slightly above the grass.

“Baby?” Henry asks.

“Don't like to be alone. He lost mama.”

Henry's faces morphs from confusion to shock. “How did you know?”

“He called.”

“When?”

“Now.”

“We didn't hear anything,” Duncan adds.

“Can't you?”

Henry's face pulls into an amazed smile. “You've adapted.”

You hum. “Mmm..don't think so. Normal.”

Zora strides ahead behind you, her frame nearly swallowed by the grass like yours. You crouch down behind her, gathering a fallen berry pod off the ground. You sniff it, before eating it with a loud crunch. Zora jumps, whipping to face you. You stare at her. “Want?” She shakes her head. “They sleeping. Wake up now.”

A long, ribbon like tail lifts from the grass behind Henry. He gasos. “Oh...whoa whoa whoa...”

Zora pants slightly, like her breath had left her. “What...?”

“Aww,” you say, watching as two Titanosaurus nuzzle each other with their large heads.

“This is our chance, they're distracted,” Henry whispers, giving Zora the empty needle to load into her gun.

“Wh...distracted by what?” she asks. Henry stares up next to you in awe, Zora finally looking at the two nuzzling each other. “Oh..”

“Not...gonna hurt her?” you ask, tugging on Zora's arm.

Zora shakes her head, cocking the gun. “No. Just...a little pinch. Like this ” she replies, her hand reaching out to pinch your arm.

You glare at her, smacking her hand away after. “Hey! Not nice.”

She laughs, holding the gun up to her eye before the needle whizzes through the air, attaching itself to the long neck. You jump slightly as the thing flies itself out of the Titanosaurs thick skin with great speed, sailing down to the ground with a small parachute. Above, the Quetzocoatlus circle a cliff.

“Looks like we're climbing,” Zora says, following you.

“Hope you're good with heights, doc,” Duncan adds.

“Hey, kid. Do this stuff not hurt your feet?” Zora asks, catching up to you.

You frown, looking at her. “Why would hurt?”

“I, uh...nevermind.”

________________________________________

Water cascades down into a valley from all sides, a cool breeze whipping your hair. “Here pretty.”

“Yeah,” Zora murmurs, taking a sip from her water. “Okay. It's a vertical slap. Looks like some overhang, probably a 5.13, 5.15. Least we're going down.”

“I saw the pterosaur circling at stone structure cut into a natural legde.” Henry adds.

“That home. Need be quick before come back.”

“Do we have to get the sample from an egg?” Martin asks. You roll your eyes. How stupid could someone be?

“Well, I suppose we could try to get one from the parents but they're a flying carnivore the size of an F-16.”

The silent man says something in French before decending down the cliff, followed shortly after by Henry and Zora.

They're taking too long, you think after a while of foraging through nuts and berries. Skwaks echo from below. “Uh oh...” you murmur. LeClerc starts shouting. “Pull me up! Pull me up!”

“Krebs, pull pull!”

“Hold on!”

Duncan and Martin are focused on pulling the rope, but your eyes are fixed over the ledge, the tip of a yellow beak becoming more and more visible over the edge. And in its beak, LeClerc.

“Hey! Get baxk!” You shout, lunging forwards to tug Duncan and Martin away from the ledge.

“Oh shit!”

“Down her, down here!” you call, clearing branches away from an opening of stairs in the ground.

At the bottom, you see someone splashing in the water. “Uh oh...”

“Henry! You okay?” Zora yells, landing right in front of you on the rope. He gives a thumbs up.

“You stay too long,” you complain at her. “Need be quicker.” You stare at the ground, your chin wrinkles slightly. “Zora...'kay?”

She stares at you for a moment. “Yeah. I'm good, kid.”

The third sample falls, landing gently by their feet. quickly being placed inside the breifcass. “Lefs go home.”

________________________________________

Night falls quickly, forcing your eyes to work harder to avoid sleeping carnivores if you wanted the team to make it to the helipad alive.

“Through here,” you tell them hesitantly, stepping through an old wire fence. “Here not safe though.”

“I see the helipad. It's in the middle of a reservoir,” Duncan tells them, looking through the binoculars. “No sign of the kids, thought. ”

“Will tbey even be able to find this place?” Henry asks.

“Probably,” you reply.

“Hey,” Zora says, crouching at something. “Hey, there's footprints here! Hello? Reuben! Teresa!”

“Zora, they could be anything,” Martin tells her. You groan. “They could be animal, it could be—”

“In Nikes?” she scoffs.

“Listen, j appreciate what you're doing I really do, but we are in a crunch right now.”

“Hello! Reuben! Teresa!”

“The helicopters coming,” Martin reminds her. You roll your eyes. He just smelt off.

Zora turns. “Oh, well just have them do a low pass over the island while there's still light.”

“That is an incredibly dangerous thing to do.”

“Shut up!” you snap. He blinks at you, before staying silent. Zora barges past him, taking the breifcase.

“Hello!” A man's voice echoes back multiple times.

“Hey! Oh my God, you made it!” Zora jogs to them, you and the others following behind.

“You okay?” Duncan asks an older girl.

“Yeah, where is he?” She spins. “No no no, where is that son of a bitch?”

“What? Who?” Zora asks.

She stutters. “That guy, that guy who let me fall.

“Yeah, he tried to kill her,” an older boy adds.

Duncan pauses. “Wait, wait, who let you fall?”

“Hey Krebs!” Zora shouts.

“I'm gonna kill him!” she shouts.

“He's got a gun!” you tell them.

”Lets just settle down everybody, okay?

“Yoy wanted me to die!”

You look between the group, confusedly. What the hell were they on about?

“What are you talking about? I tired to catch you.”

“You looked right at me and you let me fall!” the girl replies.

“She's lying, kid” Martin tells you. “Don't listen to her.”

“What? I— I didn't—” you stutter.

Zora waves for you to come to her. You do. “If Teresa is lying, then why do you have a gun?”

Martin replies calmly, like this was normal. “Becayse she's hysterical.”

“You tried to kill her!” the boy shouts.

Martin chuckles. “Kid, you can vouch for me, can't you? You've been with me the whole time, have I ever put you in danger?”

Your hands clutch at the edge of your ripped shorts, shifting uncomfortably in your feet, eyes darting between them.

“Fine. Zora, why don't I take that?” He holds his hand out to the breifcase. He clicks a handcuffs around his wrist and the handle. “And I'll keep that safe with me.”

A whirring starts in the distance. “Stip talking, stop talking!” the little girl says.

“Its the generator,” Henry replies. “Must be on a timer.”

The lights buzz on around you, music playing.

“Thats not good,” you say quietly. “Knew...not come here.”

“What? Why?”

“Very bad. Very, very bad. Lights bad. Attract...bad. Not come here. Avoid here always.”  Something screeches behind you. “Run!”

Everyone splits up, the family running into the petrol station shop, Martin under a car, Zora behind a pillar and Henry and Duncan up the stairs. Watching, one Mutadon creeps around the pillar where Zora was, sniffing her out. You run, shouting. “Hey! Hey! Over here!”

The Mutadon turns, it's attention switching over to you, it's raptor-like legs catching up to you with surprising speed. You look back, Zora taking the opportunity to run into the bushes behind the fence line. A sudden shadow looms halfway over you from the front, flickering in the light. You look forwards again as you run, skidding to a stop just before you hit a second Mutadon.

“Uh oh,” you mutter, turning to run from them both in a different direction. You barely make it three steps when a third Mutadon crowds you, the three snapping at each other like they were fighting over you.

“Oh, shit...kid!” Zora shouts from the bush.

Suddenly one lunges, claws and teeth lashing forwards with surprising speed. You throw yourself sideways instinctively, years of survival crashing into you before thought does, but just slightly too late. A set of claws slice down your stomach, a burning, searing sensation shooting through your side. You cry out, your hand instinctively pressing against the wound. The Mutadon screeches at the others, loud and triumphant.

“Hey!” Zora shouts. “Hey! Over here!” A rock slams full force into the Mutadons skull. The thing whips around, hissing.

“Yeah, come on!” Duncan adds, banging a rock on the stair railings. “Look at me! Over here!”

Duncan and Henry both run down the stairs, splitting up at the bottom. The Mutadons eyes flick between you, Zora and the running men before deciding to give chase. Somewhere in the background, there's a car revving.

Zora takes the opportunity and sprints forward, kneeling down next to you. “Okah, okay, easy. Easy, don't move.”

“Fine,” you groan. “Had deeper.”

Zora's arms tuck up under you, one around your shoulders the other under your leg, her arms tucking you against her as she stands.

“Ow,” you gasp, her tank top rubbing against your skin. “...hurts.”

“Sorry,” she murmurs, moving slowly across the ground, before stopping as she watches a Mutadon crawl down the grate. “Oh shit...Come on, down there.”

“What?”

“Trust me!” She hisses urgently. You nod, wincing as you slide down the grate hole into a large tunnel, Zora dropping down behind you. “Come on, I'm not letting that Mutadon get the family.”

You wince, half-limping behind her. After minutes of crawling behind her, you can finally see the others again. “Zora!” you hiss, pointing at a wing beyond the team.

”I see it,” she mutters, opening fire on the Mutado. “Go!”

“Are you okay?” Henry asks.

“Go! Take the kid, go! Krebs took the jeep,” she tells Duncan.

“If he gets to the boat before us, he'll take that too. Come on, Z, we gotta go!”

The tunnel opens up into a much large one, met at one end with a large metal gate, voices overlapping as you reach it.

“I see the boat, it's that way!”

“How do we open the gate?”

”Come on, were close!”

“Control panel,” you tell them, one hand still clutched against your side. “Outside.”

“Jesus— Xavier, hey, give her your shirt,” Reuben tells him. “Wrap it around your body.”

“I'll go,” Teresa says, trying to squeeze through the bars.

“Can you fit?” Zora asks, trying to get through herself. “Shit.”

Xavier ties his shirt tight around your stomach, the wet fabric rubbing on the wound.

“Guys! That thing is back!” Teresa shouts.

“Maybe we can lift it—”

“Hey, hey kid! Kid!” you shout at the younger girl, watching her slip through the bars.

“Bella! Hey, hey, hey, Isabella.” Reuben adds on, noticing now.

“Come back here, cmere!” Zora shouts, watching Isabella run to the control panel.

Isabella's focus is on the panel, Delores chirping from her backpack. Uh oh. You stick your head between the bars, eyes scanning the treeline behind Bella. “Oh shit...” Big, with 6 limbs and sharp teeth. “Hey! Hey, over here! Hey! Come on, you big ugly thing! We're here!”

“Kid, what...are you yelling at?” Duncan asks. You stick a hand through the bar, pointing at a barely visible, large, brown dinosaur in the foliage. “Hey! Over here!”

The dinosaur crawls down into the gap, staring between Bella and the noises. Everyone begins yelling, banging on the gate to distract it from hurting Bella.

“Press the button!” you shout.

The gate raises with a metal groan, the dinosaur staring into the gap with a cold, beady eye. A beeping alarm sound and lights suddenly shine on it's face, drawing it's attention. Martins jeep comes revving back into the area, blaring about road obstructions before the dinosaur punches the car bonnet, launching him over the windscreen.

“Come on, go go!” you gasp, running out and under it as best you can to reach Bella, every step sending shooting pains up your side.

“Now!” Duncan tells. “Close the gate!”

You do, straining against your side to pull the lever back down. The dinosaur grabs Martin with a single, large hand, silencing his screams with a single bite. “Oh...” you whisper, covering Bella's eyes.

The breifcase drops to the ground with a thud, Zora reaching for it with shaking hands.

________________________________________

“The hoist controls there, go go!” Reuben shouts.

“Lower the boat!”

“Wheres the power!”

“The hoists broken! It's jammed!” Xavier shouts back. Trees rustle and snap on your left, a low snarling echoing through them.

“Its attracted to light!” Henry announces as the D-rex snarls far too close to the boat dock. Shit.

“Give me the flares,” Duncan tells Henry. You lean against a barrel, exhaustion and pain overriding adrenaline.

“What the hell are you doing?” Henry asks.

“I got it, I've got it. Go!” He shouts, lighting the flare.

“No! What the hell are you doing?” Henry calls.

“Hey! Right here! You want me? Come on!”

“No.” Zora whispers next to you. “Duncan.”

“This way. Hey!”

“Get your sister, get your sister!” The man calls to Teresa.

“Get out of here! Go! Come here! This way!”

“Duncan!” Zora screams, her voice wavering slightly. “Duncan!”

“Don't wait Zora! Get the kids. Go! Save them.”

The dinosaur splashes into the water, following Duncan. The chains rattle as the boat falls into the ocean.

“Go, get in the boat. Get in the boat.” Zora ushers.

“Don't come back. Not safe,” you tell her seriously.

She freezes, her hands gripping your shoulders. “What do you mean— you're not seriously staying here.”

“Home.”

“What about a safe home?”

You watch the boat, Reuben tugging the power, Isabella's little pleads to hurry.

“Safe?”

“Hey, hey, look. You need a hospital. You need help, okay? Just come with us, come with us and get fixed up, and if you don't like it, then...we can drop you back here, okay?” Zora pleads.

“...promise?”

“Promise,” she smiles. “Now get in the boat. Get in.”

Teresa helps you in, you sit down on the floor, legs crossed awkwardly beneath you as you try to find a comfortable position for your side.

“Duncan!” Zora yells. “Dubcan!”

“Zora! Zora we gotta go!” Henry yells back, tugging her into the boat as the flare goes dark. The dinosaur splashes back towards the boat as Reuben continues to try and jump start the boat.

“Go! Go go! Push it!” He leans back, wrapping his arms around Isabella. The boat jolts forwards, narrowly avoiding a downwards hit from the dinosaur.

“Kincaid!” Zora tries again. “Duncan!” Her eyes brim with tears as she's met with silence. You rest your hand against her leg. You didn't know what else to do...that was how the herbivores comforted another dinosaur. A tail rub against them. A red light shoots across the sky.

“Look!” Isabella shouts.

”Turn the boat around!” Zora snaps.

A red flare hangs out of the water, Duncan swimming through the ocean. Xavier and Reuben pull him over the edge, discarding the flare into the ocean.

________________________________________

The boat skips along the waves, every person as exhausted as the other. Exhaustions hits hard when adrenaline wears off. You're laid on the floor, Xavier's shirt stuck to your wound.

“Ow. Ow! Stop pulling it!” you say, smacking Henry's hand away instinctively.

“It needs air. The hospital is gonna need this off, and this is a lot more gentle than they'll be.”

“No, stop, I don't wanna go to a hos...hospital.”

Henry pauses. “Hey, nobody's going to hurt you.”

You shake your head hard enough to make your vision blur. “They'll keep me there.”

“No.”

“Needles.”

“I don't like needles.”

Zora crouches beside you despite the rocking boat. “Neither do I.”

You blink at her. “Really?”

She smiles weakly. “Really. But they're going to fix you, not trap you.”

“...You'll stay?”

“The whole time,” Zora agrees. “And you can rest with me and Henry for a bit, and then you can decide if you want to stay or not.”

“Hey,” Isabella tugs on your bare foot. “How long were you there?”

“Big time. Mama said...I was a big kid before she left, and I'm even bigger kid now,” you tell them seriously.

“What..happened to her?” Zora asks.

“She said she come back. No come back.”

“Sounds lonely,” Teresa says quietly.

“Not anymore, kid,” Zora reassures you, brushing hair from your face.

”No more lone,” you repeat. “Only if I can have my berries.”

“Sure, kid,” Henry relents.

Your eyelids grow heavier with every wave. “No leave,” you mumble, face against Zora's legs.

“We're not going anywhere.”

Rio never gave a single damn about podcasts. For real, who had the fucking patience to sit there and listen to some rando talk at you for an hour straight? Not her. She didn’t have the attention span, the interest, or honestly, the will to pretend she cared. But it was 1:43 in the goddamn morning, and her apartment was so quiet it felt like it was swallowing her whole.

Carol, her girlfriend, her sanity, her ride-or-die was out of town for the weekend. And no, she wasn’t trying to be a clingy bitch about it, but holy hell, Rio didn’t do alone. Not well, anyway.

Growing up in Puerto Rico with her entire damn family up in her business 24/7 kinda messed her up for solo living. Like, she couldn’t even think about skipping class without her cousin spilling the tea to abuela before she even had the chance to open her mouth.

So yeah.

Being here just her and Victoria, her chunky-ass tuxedo cat sucked so bad.

Alone.

Deadass alone.

No Carol. No cousins. No nosy-ass neighbor to complain about. Just the soul-crushing silence and her thoughts being loud as shit in her skull.

“Fuck this” she muttered, grabbing her phone. If she couldn’t sleep, might as well drown out the void with some bullshit audio content, right? She thumbed through Spotify like it owed her money and finally picked the first podcast that didn’t have some man explaining the world like she was five.

“Want some background noise Vic?” she asked, reaching for her cat like some needy girlfriend. Victoria gave her the middle finger in feline, darting out of reach like the dramatic diva she was.

“Whatever, you uncultured gremlin”

She got comfortable resting her back on the headboard and clicked finally on the podcast. It was called The Curious Constant and it was about science. She debated a little bit about playing that one because she wasn’t going to lie to herself. She was reeeeally bad at it back in school.

The episode was titled: Time, Touch, and the Color Blue.

Weird. Intriguing. Play.

And then it hit her.

The voice.

Low. Smooth. A little raspy, like the woman had either just woken up or just finished yelling at someone. There was a kind of melody, half lecture, half lullaby. Like if bedtime stories came with citations.

“There’s a theory that if you stare at the color blue long enough, you’ll start to remember things that never happened”

Rio blinked.

“Not real memories. Not hallucinations either. More like… impressions. The emotional residue of something your brain never got to experience. Blue as a kind of psychological ghost”

The speaker chuckled, soft and amused with herself.

“But then again, color is just light. Memory is just electricity. And time? Time’s the real scam”

It was the kind of shit Rio would usually make fun of. Pretentious, poetic science-nerd stuff.

But this?

This made her stomach do flips like she was in a parkour competition.

She didn’t know why. Maybe it was the voice, maybe it was the way the woman seemed to know the universe personally.

Like she had coffee with Einstein on Thursdays.

Rio lay there in the dark, just staring at the ceiling. Her heartbeat had slowed, but her brain had not. Something had cracked open inside her, and the only way to close it was to keep listening.

She binged five episodes in a row.

By 4 am, she discovered (and by discovering means deep dive into a rabbit hole of mild stalking) that the host’s name was Agatha Harkness, that she had a PhD in astrophysics, was married, sadly. And that she was a teacher at Yale.

When the sun was already peeking through her windows, she was scrolling through old faculty headshots on the Yale website like a stalker.

Found her.

Jesus.

Agatha had that ‘sexy in a terrifying way’ thing going on. Sharp cheekbones, blue-green eyes, the kind of mouth that probably didn’t smile unless it was sarcastic. Forty-something, maybe older.

Hot.

Dark hair streaked with silver. She looked like she knew every secret in the goddamn universe and would never tell you unless you earned it.

Rio closed her laptop and stared at the ceiling again.

Yup, she was screwed.

But maybe in a good way, right?

After her little break down she finally moved from her bed and started her day. She always felt a little down when Carol was away, it’s been three years since they were together and their mornings were usually better than sleepwalking around her apartment until her stomach demands food.

She took a shower and involuntarily hummed the catchy podcast opening. Grabbed a toast, a gatorade and headed to her shop.

She was the proud owner of ‘Flores raras’ a bright and cozy flower shop tucked into a corner of Venice Beach, where she sells bouquets with names like green witch and saint’s regret. Her arrangements are more poetry than product, and she talks to her flowers like they’re old friends.

“Good morning Al, you are early” she said while trying to balance a tray of iced coffee

Alice took one of the cups and immediately sipped like it was fuel.

“Someone has to actually act as a responsible person here” she joked

Alice was probably Rio’s oldest and realest friend, they met back when they were ten, Rio’s family just moved from Puerto Rico and Alice was the only one who dared to speak to her during classes. They instantly bonded and since then they haven’t left each other’s side.

Blood didn’t matter, they were sisters.

“You said that as if you didn’t just checked in like five minutes ago”

“True, but I was here before you”

Rio crumpled a napkin and threw it at her

“Bitch” she laughed, watching the napkin bounce off Alice’s forehead and land right in the pile of peonies they were supposed to sort through.

Alice flicked her middle finger up, still sipping “Don’t hate me ‘cause I’m punctual and pretty”

Rio rolled her eyes so hard it was a miracle they didn’t fly out her skull. She slid the tray onto the front counter, already pulling her hair into a messy bun with a practiced flick of her wrist.

“More like punctual and annoying.”

Alice grinned “Yeah, well, you’re lucky I’m both. You’d be drowning in dahlia drama without me”

“You say that like it hasn’t happened multiple times with you around”

They shared a smirk. The shop was still quiet, soft light filtering through the big front windows and casting everything in a golden glow. It smelled like eucalyptus, roses, and whatever Rio had burning in the back.

Probably that cinnamon candle she swore brought in good vibes and hot lesbians.

It didn’t, she was definitely scammed by that tote bag girl at downtown. It was just an overpriced candle more for her collection.

Rio grabbed the clipboard from under the register and started flipping through the orders “Okay, we got three bouquets for pickup, one funeral arrangement for tha old lady from Echo Park, and a bridal shower thing at eleven”

“Ugh, bridal people are always so fucking intense” Alice groaned, dragging herself dramatically over to the cooler “You think they’ll cry if we put in, like, one too many white roses?”

“Last time you did that, the maid of honor tried to physically fight you”

“She came at me with a heel, Rio”

“A kitten heel” Rio snorted, snatching a sharpie from behind her ear “You’re fine. You lived. You complained about the ‘emotional trauma’ for three days and made me buy you donuts”

“Trauma deserves carbs”

“I always deserve carbs”

“You deserve a nap, actually” Alice said, squinting at her “Did you sleep?”

Rio shrugged, eyes fixed on the delivery schedule but hands fidgeting with the string tied around a bouquet “Kinda”

“Kinda like… ‘I passed crying because my girlfriend is in another state’ kinda?”

Rio looked up, sharp “Mind your business and no”

Alice raised both brows “Then why the hell do you look like straight outta the walking dead?”

“Please, promise you won't make fun of me” she looked at Alice.

“Come on, Ri. You know I definitely will”

This deadass.

“Okay, I stayed up until 5 am listening to a science podcast” she said deadpan.

Alice stayed silent for a second then burst into laughter.

Rio elbowed her and walked away from the counter “God,I hate you so much!”

“No! I’m messing with you, sorry” but she kept laughing anyway.

“I mean, why would you do that? you hated and pretty much sucked at sciences back at school”

Rio tried to hide her very obvious reason, even when Alice knew her deepest shit she was kinda embarrassed she was literally living the ‘Her’ movie plot in real time, even when Dr. Harkness was a real person behind the computer.

“I don’t know, it seemed something fun and different to listen, I can’t stuck always on that playlist I have since high school”

“Bullshit, you love that playlist”

It definitely was.

That playlist was her life, her whole personality. Going from paramore to taylor swift back to slipknot and mitski. Those were her good years.

“And didn’t you pour tomato sauce on Lizz Olsen’s volcano at the science fair in 8th grade?” Alice said

Oh, she remembers that very well. Lizz was being mean to Alice because her self given bangs and Rio did what every best friend should have done, ruin her stupid science project.

“Ugh okay, fine. It was because the hostess voice” Rio said under her breath, so low only ants could understand what she was saying

Alice looked at her in confusion “Sorry what? Didn’t catch that one”

“Because the hostess voice” she repeated

“Rio, come on don’t fuck with me and speak louder, you are not five”

She did feel like she was five and had stolen a candy from the store and her abuela found out and made her recite the whole bible one afternoon.

“God, this is so fucking embarrasing. I binge a science podcast because I fell for the hostess voice”

Alice looked at her amused, one of her brows constantly raising and falling in place again “That’s it? That’s the big revelation?”

“Yeah?”

Alice laughed again, louder this time.

“Bitch you have done absolutely worse and this is making you shy? I mean it's kinda weird but-”

“It’s not weird!” Rio mumbled, scribbling something that wasn’t legible on the schedule “It’s hot. There’s a difference”

Alice made a face “You’re gonna fall in love with a podcast host who doesn't even know you exist”

Rio glanced up, deadpan “Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve fallen in love with someone who doesn’t know I exist”

Alice blinked “Damn”

“Too real?”

“Way too real. We need music”

She slapped her phone onto the Bluetooth speaker and, in seconds, the shop was filled with Bad Bunny and drums that shook the flower petals. Rio rolled her eyes, but her lips curled up. Alice was dancing like a gremlin in the corner, iced coffee still in hand, bumping her hip into a stack of pots.

“You’re gonna break shit”

“I’m gonna manifest good vibes and lesbians. Just like that candle of yours”

Rio let out a laugh, loud and honest “You’re fucking unhinged”

Alice winked “That’s why you love me”

And yeah, she did. More than anyone, honestly. Even if Alice was loud and chaotic and spilled water on the new shipment of carnations every damn week. They’d been through hell together. Breakups, queer crises, dead pets.

Family drama and one very illegal road trip to Arizona.

Sisters. Always.

Even when Rio was spiraling about a voice on a podcast.

Especially then.

The days were blurring together, and Rio? She was deep in it. Addicted. Hooked. She had fucking notifications on everywhere, phone, laptop, even the goddamn shop’s computer just so she wouldn’t miss a single second of her favorite podcast dropping a new episode.

Carol was back home, sure, but that didn’t stop Rio from falling headfirst into that nerdy spiral.

“Again with that damn podcast?” Carol leaned on the doorway, raising an eyebrow as she spotted Rio at the stove making her signature box mac and cheese. Barefoot, Carol’s hoodie on, headphones in, eyes glazed over like she was in some quantum physics trance.

Carol slid behind her like it was second nature, wrapping her arms low around Rio’s waist and planting a kiss right on her neck. Rio didn’t even turn, just smiled and tilted her head a little, returning the affection like a reflex.

“New episode, babe. She’s going off about relativity or black holes or some shit. My brain is melting and I love it”

Carol snorted, already reaching over Rio’s shoulder to sneak a bite of the half-done noodles. “You’re obsessed. Should I be jealous? Or should I just start my own podcast? My students say I sound like a mermaid, you know”

That got Rio to finally turn around. She leaned back just enough to peck Carol on the cheek, grinning.

“You did lure me in with that siren voice. I was doomed from the first ‘hey, are you lost?’ on the beach that day”

Carol rolled her eyes “God, you’re such an idiot”

“Yeah, but I’m your idiot”

Rio kissed her again, harder this time. Her hand curled into Carol’s hoodie as she nipped her lower lip, tasting that stupidly addictive pineapple chapstick. The mac and cheese? Burning.

Neither of them gave a single shit.

Rio pushed her until Carol’s thighs were pressed on the counter, she lifted her effortlessly and found place between her legs.

Carol kept leaving tiny kisses all over her face “Is doctor…what was her name again?”

“Agatha” Rio replayed instantly.

Carol stopped and pulled back to look at her, brow raising teasingly.

“Is doctor Agatha involuntary stealing my girlfriend, should I be worried she crawls out of your computer one day like the ring girl and takes you away?”

Rio laughed biting her lip.

Now that thought was planted in her brain for the rest of her life and she wouldn’t mind, to be honest. She loved that movie.

“Are you jealous over something impossible? That’s hot” she said sliding her hands under girlfriend’s hoodie

Her skin was warm and soft, nipples already hardened by Rio’s touch.

Carol let out a quiet moan and rolled her eyes “Probably, but I can give you many reasons to not run away with her”

Rio continued touching her, massaging her belly and running her hands up to cup her breasts squeezing them slowly, feeling how Carol responded to her touch.

“Really, care to elaborate?” Rio said

Carol didn’t responded, instead she kissed her, hard and wet. Her tongue slid into Rio’s mouth so easily, like the other thousand times she has done it.

Rio gave in, she could feel the heat growing between her legs. Her fingers digging hard into Carol's hips.

"Fuck, I've missed this" Carol growled against Rio's lips "Missed tasting you, touching you"

Carol nipped at her bottom lip before trailing hot, open mouthed kisses along her jawline and down her throat.

Rio gasped and tilted her head back, giving Carol better access "Shit, baby...I need you so bad. Please"

Carol smirked against her skin "Patience, gorgeous. Let me taste you first"

She continued sucking and biting Rio's sensitive neck, no doubt leaving behind marks tha would have Rio blushing later. Her hands slid up under Rio's shirt, fingers splaying across her toned stomach.

Rio’s abs never fail to make her go feral.

Rio squirmed against her touch, her nipples hardening against the thin fabric of her sports bra.

“Please, I want to feel your skin" she panted out without an ounce of shame. Tugging at Carol's hoodie impatiently.

Yes, she was very needy for her girlfriend.

Sue her.

Carol chuckled lowly and hopped down the countertop, helped Rio strip off her own before shrugging out of hers.

“Much better" Rio sighed as she ran her hands over Carol's toned torso, admiring the ink covering her fair skin.

Carol shivered at her touch and captured her lips again in a hungry kiss. Their bare breasts pressed together, the sensation making them both groan.

“Your little scientist crush might have a pretty good voice and all-” she said as she slid her hand between Rio’s thighs.

Carol's hands found their way into Rio's shorts, pushing them down along with her panties feeling how fucking wet Rio was.

“But she’s not here right now, feeling how wet you are, touching you, kissing you and-“

Carol took her finger out of Rio with the glistening evidence of her need. She hold them between their faces and then licked them painfully slowly.

“Tasting you”

Rio’s pupils dilated in one second at the sight of that filthy image. She gasped and kissed her again, harder, reckless.

Tasting herself in her girlfriend’s mouth.

“Bedroom. Now" Rio demanded, scooping carol up easily in her strong arms.

She wrapped her legs around Rio’s waist as she carried her out of the kitchen,

“Wait” Rio said, pausing in the middle of the living room.

She went back to the kitchen to turn the stove off “safety first”

Carol laughed and hid her face in Rio’s neck.

They finally pulled themselves away from each other after long enough, took a shower together and headed to get dressed.

Rio in her chill denim shorts, oversized Taylor Swift shirt she bought at a thrift shop just because it had the lyrics from “ivy” , green apron already secured in her bag. Carol in a red wetsuit half-zipped down with a hoodie over it, because apparently she refused to wear normal clothes like a normal person.

“Come on, I’ll drop you off” Carol said, keys jingling in hand “Gotta swing by the shop anyway. The lilies come in today”

“You’re an angel” Rio murmured, grabbing her iced coffee like it was a lifeline and dragging herself out the door behind her.

They piled into Carol’s baby blue Jeep, windows down, wind tangling Rio’s hair the second they hit the road.

“Okay, hear me out” Carol said, tapping the wheel like she was trying to remember something “What if we did something Friday? Just us. No podcast, no waves, no last-minute bouquet orders”

Rio looked over, raising a brow “You asking me on a date, Ms. Flower-Surf-Goddess?”

“I’m proposing an experience, thank you very much”

Rio laughed “I’m in. Just promise me you’ll wear something besides a wetsuit”

“No promises. Wetsuits are a lifestyle”

They pulled up outside Rio’s shop, and Rio leaned over to kiss her again, soft this time, like the morning was just getting started and they had all the time in the world.

“Love you. You hot, crazy mermaid goddess” Rio said as she hopped out.

“Love you more, nerd. Don’t burn the shop down thinking about quantum physics”

“No guarantees!”

**

It took Rio two more episodes to write an email.

The email.

She deleted at least seventeen drafts. Some were too professional , some were way too intense and one of the drafts was justa simple ‘Hi, I think you rewired my brain. Is that normal?’ very gay, very chaotic, just like her.

In the end, sleep deprived and over caffeinated, she hit send.

Subject: Your voice messed me up (in a good way?)

Hi.

Sorry if this is weird. Scratch that, it is weird. But I figured if anyone appreciates weird things, it’s probably you.

I found your podcast by accident and now I’m... hooked? Obsessed? Enchanted? All of the above? You talked about blue light and false memories and now I can’t look at the sky without thinking about ghost thoughts.

I don't know what I expected when I clicked, but I definitely didn’t expect you. The way you explain things it’s like listening to someone cast spells. But instead of Latin and candles, it’s quantum theory and sarcasm.

I’m not a scientist. I’m barely a functioning adult (though I own a flower shop in LA, anyways) But I can’t stop thinking about your voice. Not in a creepy way. Seriously, it’s like warm thunder. (Okay, maybe a little in a creepy way)

Anyway, I just wanted to say thank you. You made my insomnia... weirder, but better. That feels important somehow.

I was wondering if you could recommend any books for someone like me? Someone who wants to know more, but gets overwhelmed by words like ‘quantum’ and ‘thermodynamics’ and can’t spell ‘photosynthesis’ without autocorrect.

Thank you for making me feel curious again. That’s rare, and I don’t take it for granted.

Yours in respectful fascination,

—Rio Vidal

(not a stalker, probably)

Then she did what any self respecting lunatic would do, she slammed her laptop shut, buried her face in her pillow, and screamed into it.

“WHY DID I SEND THAT?”

Because she couldn’t not.

Because she needed Agatha Harkness to know that someone out there was listening too hard, feeling too much, and falling maybe a little bit in love with someone they’d never met.

And somehow, even as embarrassment bloomed in her chest, she hoped Agatha would write back.

Just once.

Even if it was to say ‘Stop romanticizing my podcast, you weirdo’

Because even that would mean Agatha had read it. Had noticed her. Even for a second.

Meanwhile 4,615.1 km away

On the other side of the country Agatha Harkness’ morning routine was as precise as the orbital mechanics she lectured on.

Up at 6:30. French press coffee , feed her bunny Señor Scratchy who waited by his ceramic bowl like a judgmental little goblin at 6:50. Cross-reference lecture notes and update her reading list by 7:30. Podcast recording at 8, if scheduled. Then Ralph.

Ralph came in, as he always did, with the Times tucked under one arm and a small kiss tucked under the other. A ritual of smiles and paper and the creak of hardwood floors in their sunlit kitchen.

He leaned over her shoulder, peering at her screen. “Another hate email from flat earthers?”

“No” Agatha said with mild surprise “Actually… this one’s lovely”

Ralph, reading over her shoulder, gave a low whistle “She’s flirting with your atoms, love”

“Don’t be absurd” Agatha said, though her lips twitched “She’s just-she sounds sincere. Curious”

“Mmhm” Ralph said, sipping his tea “She also thinks your voice is warm thunder. Which, by the way, is extremely accurate”

Agatha swatted him gently “It’s a sweet note. That’s all”

Señor Scratchy thumped a foot dramatically and flopped onto his side like the little drama queen he was.

“Oh, alright” Agatha muttered, pushing back from her desk “Breakfast for all of you, apparently”

After feeding her fluffy demon she finally sat and opened the email again, this time writing her answer.

Subject: RE: Your voice messed me up (in a good way?)

Hi Rio,

I almost didn’t open this. Your subject line made me think it was either fan mail or a threat. Turns out it’s a little of both.

You’re right—it is weird. But I don’t mind weird. Weird is more honest than most people manage to be.

Thank you for listening. And for writing. I don’t usually respond to these kinds of emails (I’m allergic to flattery and people in general), but something about yours… lingered.

I read it at 4 am, which felt appropriate. I’d just finished editing an episode then I opened my inbox and there you were, a florist in Los Angeles, talking about ghost thoughts and insomnia.

Entanglement’s a funny thing, isn’t it?

As for the books recs I would suggest starting with Carl Sagan’s Cosmos, if you haven’t already. It’s poetic, accessible, and full of wonder. Mary Roach’s books ,especially ‘Packing for Mars’ are both humorous and scientifically rigorous. And if you want something more personal, Lab Girl by Hope Jahren is a beautiful account of life in science.

Anyway. If you’re ever in Connecticut, let me know. I’ll take you to the planetarium. It’s one of the few places here that still feels like the universe gives a damn.

Take care,

—Agatha H.

P.S. Your line about not being a stalker was exactly what a stalker would say.

It would be strange to say that this email left Agatha a bit puzzled. She was used to receiving them every day, but why was this one different?

Rio had written like she already knew her, not in the creepy way, despite the stalker joke, but like someone who’d spent enough late nights with her voice in their ears that it became part of the wallpaper of their life. Familiar. Background. Essential.

Agatha leaned back in her chair letting out a long sigh.

“Ready to leave?” Ralph took her out of her concentration.

She stood up and planted a kiss on his cheek “Yes, let me just pack this and I catch you outside”

Friday mornings at Yale were a predictable chaos, over caffeinated undergrads arguing about Aristotle or thermodynamics while tripping over their own egos. The air smelled like mulch and ambition, and the sun filtered lazily through gothic archways like it hadn’t made up its mind about showing up yet.

Agatha walked effortlessly chic across the quad, dark sunglasses on, black trench fluttering behind her like some sort of science noir anti-heroine. Ralph lagged half a step behind her, sipping from his stainless steel mug like a man deeply at peace with not being on time.

“Jesus, Ags” he muttered, adjusting the strap on his battered satchel “you walk like you're trying to outpace a war crime”

“Maybe I am” she shot back “Have you seen the first years’ physics essays this week? Some of them think gravity is a government hoax”

“You say that like it’s worse than the time someone turned in a lab report written entirely in emojis”

Agatha groaned “That girl’s now in pre-med. God help her future patients”

They reached the stone steps of the Physics and Astronomy Building. Ralph held the door for her with a flourishing bow.

“Weekend plans?” he asked as they stepped into the cool, marble-lined hall.

“I was thinking… bookstore run saturday, maybe finally reorganize the disaster that is our guest room?”

He made a sound like a dying man “You promised we’d go see that terrible 80s sci-fi movie. You made me swear, Agatha”

“Oh, right. Shit. I did” She paused, mouth quirking “Fine. I’ll buy the popcorn. You can bring your existential dread”

They kissed and parted ways near the staff lounge, Ralph to his Creative Writing seminar, Agatha to inflict reality on her unsuspecting undergrads.

Later, she stood at the front of the lecture hall, scrawling equations on the blackboard like she was trying to summon a very elegant demon. Her handwriting was precise, slanted, sharp enough to cut.

“…and that, dear masochists, is why Newton was both a genius and a petty bastard”

Laughter rippled through the room. Even the dead eyed ones in the back cracked a smile.

“Your problem sets are due Monday. No excuses. If your grandma dies again, she’d better rise from the grave and submit it herself”

There was some nervous chuckling. One student raised a tentative hand.

Of course it was Billy.

Tall, skinny, looked like he hadn’t seen sunlight since 2007. Emo as fuck, eyeliner smudged just right, like he'd rolled out of a Evanescence music video and decided class was the next stop on his emotional spiral.

And her best friends son, her godson.

“Dr. Harkness, is it true you once taught a seminar entirely in Latin?”

Wanda, her mom, had told him that and expected him to brought it up in the most random moment.

“Only because a student dared me,” she said without turning around “He dropped the class after week two. Coward”

Her students laughed and she finally dismissed them. She headed to the faculty lounge to grab a bite before her next class.

“Someone’s brooding” Wanda said as she slid into the chair across from Agatha, two coffees in hand.

Beloved history teacher, redhead menace and best friend.

Agatha glanced up, deadpan “Wanda, I love you, but I will pour that hot espresso in your shoes”

“Threats, already? It’s not even lunch”

Wanda shoved one of the coffees toward her and sat, tugging off her crimson scarf with the casual glamour of a woman who once led a student protest that turned into a small riot.

She taught European history, specialized in revolution, so that tracks.

“So what’s got your lab coat in a twist?” Wanda asked “Ralph being too charming? Department meeting from hell?”

Agatha hesitated for a moment to answer, she wasn't sure if she wanted to share this email thing, having Ralph teasing her was enough. But she knew Wanda wouldn’t give her a minute of peace if she didn't speak quickly.

“I got an email, at four in the morning, a girl…from LA”

Wanda grinned wickedly “Another nerd gruppie, scandalous”

“You’re an actual pain in the ass” Agatha muttered, but she couldn’t keep the small smile off her face.

“I mean, maybe. But she’s…just another one, she is curious about things and kinda funny and asked for book recommendations, but she was sincere”

Wanda nodded a little bit unsure that it wasn’t nothing because Agatha's cheeks were visibly growing pink.

“She also complimented on my voice, she said it was like a storm”

“Sounds like she might have a crush, on you”

“It’s not a—I don’t think that”

“Oh honey” Wanda interrupted, sipping her drink “That’s some gay shit over there, and you know that I know about that”

And she was right, Wanda was a heartbreaker back at college, still a little bit of a loser but she knew her game with both, men and women.

I mean, she had just pulled a redhead (yes, another redhead added to the trouble) russian girl she met at a bookstore and sparks fly the moment they look at each other.

Agatha didn’t answer. Just stared down at her coffee, then out the window to the green campus below. Students passed by in groups, life just going on.

“I think I want to meet her. It would be really nice to talk, you know?” Agatha said quietly.

Wanda blinked “What, like…fly to L.A. and surprise her with a telescope? You Have a whole husband right here, remember?”

“No, like… if she ever comes here. Maybe I will show her the observatory, and I know that, it's not like I’m going to run away with her ”

Wanda reached across the table and squeezed her hand “When you know, you know. And you, my dear, are long overdue for a little chaos”

Agatha smiled “Oh dear god, shut up. Don’t tell Ralph, he’s already a pain in the ass teasing me with this”

“I won’t, maybe ” Wanda joked “I’ll tell Señor Scratchy. He’s the real keeper of secrets anyway”

***

Three days passed.

No reply.

Rio told herself it was fine, normal.

Professors were busy.

Podcast hosts were probably inundated with emails from weirdos who fell in love with their voices. She wasn’t special just because she put her heart in an email and sent it across the country like a paper airplane.

Still, every time her phone buzzed, her stomach flipped.

It was a Friday when it finally happened.

Alice was halfway through arranging a bouquet of wildflowers, something soft and chaotic for a bride who claimed she didn’t believe in romance when she heard Rio scream from the shop downstairs.

“YOU WROTE BACK? YOU—OH MY GOD—”

Then, a loud thud.

Alice sighed, paused her music and went downstairs to the basement. She found Rio lying facedown on the floor in the middle of the flower cooler, surrounded by wilted sweet peas and what looked like one of her signature ‘mourning bouquets’

“You okay?” Alice asked, nudging her side with a boot.

Rio just groaned into the concrete “She wrote back. Agatha. Fucking. Harkness”

Alice rolled her eyes “The podcast lady with the sexy librarian voice?”

“Yes”

“The one you said you’d let rearrange your atoms?”

“Yes”

Alice dropped down beside her, legs stretched out in front of her, hoodie sleeves covered in stray glitter from the theater department’s last disaster.

“Show me, unless she sent nudes. Then I require a dramatic reenactment”

Rio shoved her phone at Alice.

Alice read in silence, occasionally raising an eyebrow, until she reached the end.

“Okay” She handed the phone back “You’re either gonna marry her or get a restraining order”

Rio sat up slowly “She invited me to the planetarium”

Alice’s eyes narrowed “That’s gay”

“Right?”

“That’s like queer grad student first base”

Rio laughed, bright and breathless “She said she read my email at 4 am and thought about entanglement. Entanglement, Alice”

Alice flopped dramatically onto the floor again “Ugh. The only thing I get entangled with at 4 am is my mic cables and my anxiety”

Rio looked like she might float off the ground.

She read the email five times.

Then again, almost printed it.

Agatha Harkness.

Agatha fucking Harkness.

Professor, podcaster, verbal sorceress had written back. Not just some generic thank you, not a copy and paste response.

She’d read it.

She’d felt it.

She made a joke. She invited her to the goddamn planetarium.

Somewhere in Connecticut , a woman Rio had never met had read her email at 4 in the fucking morning and thought of her.

“I should go there” she said suddenly “Not right away. Not like... creepy soon. But eventually. She said if I was ever there”

Alice sat up, frowning “You really gonna cross the country for a woman you’ve never met?”

Rio blinked “You literally moved in with a bassist from Portland because she wrote you a love song called ‘Coffin Cutie’ ”

“That song slaps, and you know it”

They sat in silence, surrounded by the scent of eucalyptus and damp hope.

Suddenly, the front doorbell dragged them back to reality like a bucket of cold water to the face.

“Any gay home?” Carol’s voice rang out, sugar-sweet and loud as hell.

“Basement!” Alice screamed, still half-cracking up.

Carol poked her head into the cooler a second later, eyebrows already doing the thing.

“Why the fuck are you losers hanging out in here? You think standing next to peonies is gonna make you one?”

Alice smirked “She got a reply from Dr. McHottie and had a gay little meltdown”

Rio let out a mortified groan and covered her bright-pink face with both hands like she was trying to disappear into the goddamn floor.

“Oh my god, for real?!” Carol gasped, eyes sparkling with way too much delight “What’d she say? Read it. Read it now. I wanna swoon with you”

Rio, still dying slowly, lifted her phone with shaky hands and reread the email like it was a spell she couldn’t break out of. She tried not to choke on her own breath, but every fucking word felt like a punch to the chest, in a good way. A really hot, terrifying, sexy way.

“Dear Ms. Vidal” she started, immediately gagging “Kill me. She called me miss Vidal, like I’m a real person”

Carol snorted “That’s literally your last name, babe”

“Shut up” Rio hissed, waving her phone.

“Babe, this is so fucking cute. Your sexy ass science professor knows you exist”

Rio buried her face in Carol’s shoulder and let out a muffled scream “I’m never writing another email again”

“Nope, too late” Carol said, grinning “Now you have to respond. Something hot. Like, ‘Dear Dr. Harkness, I am free on tuesdays and emotionally vulnerable always’”

“I hate you”

“You love me. Now lemme see that email again. I wanna overanalyze every punctuation mark and pretend I’m not lowkey shipping this”

“Bitch, how are you not jealous?” Alice teased, clearly making fun of her friends

“You are about to become a divorced surfist because a hot professor from the other side of the country is about to steal your very chaotic gremlin”

Carol just grinned wider “A little. But like… if it becomes a whole thing, I kill you okay?”

Rio chuckled and kissed her cheek “Yes ma’am”

Alice stood up “Alright, I think it’s time we get back to work, unless Dr. Science plans on covering our rent, we still have a business to run”

Rio, still pink-faced and vibrating, slumped against a shelf with a half-sigh, half-squeal “I think I’m in love with a voice”

Carol kissed her cheek “You’re such a nerd. It’s hot”

Alice had just turned to go back upstairs when Rio stopped her with a sudden, sharp inhale.

“I’m gonna write back”

Carol’s brows shot up “Now?”

“Yeah. Why not? She said I could let her know if I was ever in Connecticut. I could say something chill. Cool. Totally non unhinged. Like, ‘Sounds nice, I’ll keep it in mind’ you know? Something a person with a functioning nervous system would say”

“Okay, baby. You are now just into a full blown gay spiral”

“No no no, I got this. I’m gonna be breezy. Casual. Cool girl energy. I’m gonna be so fucking smooth it’s gonna be like I’m made of aloe vera”

“Jesus Christ” Carol plucked a tulip from a nearby bucket and handed it to Rio like it was a mic “You got this, champ”

Rio stared at her phone for a long moment, then began typing. Slowly. Carefully. With the energy of someone walking a tightrope suspended over a pit of very gay sharks.

Subject: RE: RE: Your voice messed me up (in a good way?)

Hi Dr. Harkness,

This made my whole week. Possibly my whole month. Okay fine, my whole existence.

Thanks for writing back. I promise I’m not actually a stalker, though that’s probably also what a stalker would say. Touché.

Entanglement is weird and beautiful and a little spooky, which is exactly my vibe. And 4 am is exactly the right time to read confessions from strangers with flower shops and abandonment issues.

Connecticut sounds terrifying, but the planetarium? That sounds like a place I’d actually like to meet the universe halfway.

Anyway, thank you for the book recs! And if I ever find myself over there, I’ll let you know.(Or I’ll chicken out and just send you more weird emails at 4am. Who’s to say.)

Take care,

—Rio

P.S. If this turns into a restraining order situation, please at least make it poetic. Something like “Entangled Beyond Consent”

She stared at it. Then let Carol read it. Then made Alice read it. Then read it out loud one more time.

“Should I send it?”

“Obviously” Alice said.

“Do it, you coward” Carol added.

Rio squeezed her eyes shut… and hit send.

Then immediately hurled her phone into the counter like it was on fire.

“Okay” she whispered to herself, smiling like an idiot “Now we wait again”

Carol leaned over and kissed her on the lips “You’re completely fucked”

“Yup”

“And it’s kinda beautiful”

Rio closed her eyes and let her thoughts fly. Somewhere out there Agatha Harkness was real.

She existed.

She answered.

And somehow—the entire palace already felt louder before the celebration had even properly begun. Servants hurried through corridors carrying ribbons, flowers, trays of sweets, tiny dragon decorations Lina had personally demanded, and enough pastries to feed half the kingdom.

Exactly as she deserved.

Y/N had just finished dressing when they stepped out from the bath chambers, adjusting the cuffs of their deep blue royal coat one last time.

The fabric was heavy and elegant against their skin, embroidered silver catching the warm candlelight with every movement. Their cape fell behind them in dark royal waves, boots polished, belt fastened neatly at their waist.

Honestly—they had not intended to dress this formally. But Lina had apparently informed the entire palace three days ago that her sibling needed to look “properly kingly” for her royal ball. So here they were. Overdressed for a seven-year-old.

The moment they stepped fully into the room, Lily looked up from where she had been finishing Wanda’s hair. And then Wanda turned too.

Gods.

The look on her face hit Y/N harder than expected. Warm. Slowly appreciative. Completely in love.

Wanda stood immediately from the vanity chair, one hand resting automatically beneath her stomach now swollen beautifully with their child.

“You look so good,” she breathed as she crossed the room toward them.

Y/N smiled instantly. “There’s my queen.”

Wanda reached them and leaned up carefully to kiss them. Soft at first. Then slightly deeper when Y/N’s hand settled instinctively at her waist.

Y/N hummed softly against her lips.

“Thank you,” they murmured warmly once they parted. Their eyes swept over her slowly after that. And gods—Wanda looked breathtaking.

Her gown flowed elegantly around her figure, soft fabrics draping beautifully over the curve of her pregnancy while Lily had styled her hair partially pinned back with delicate silver pieces woven through the curls. Completely radiant.

“You look beautiful,” Y/N said honestly, voice softer now. “Actually unfairly beautiful.”

Wanda smiled immediately at that. “You say that every time.”

“Because it is the truth.”

Wanda shook her head softly, though the pleased warmth in her expression made it clear she loved hearing it anyway.

Y/N offered her their arm with exaggerated royal elegance. “My queen.”

Wanda laughed quietly and slipped her hand around their arm. Together, they left the chambers and made their way through the palace corridors toward the ballroom.

The castle was glowing tonight. Golden candlelight flickered against polished stone walls while dragon banners Lina had personally approved hung proudly throughout the halls. Servants hurried around with trays of sweets and sparkling drinks while distant music drifted through the palace already.

Y/N could hear children laughing somewhere below.

Good. That was exactly what they wanted. Not stiff silence. Not political performances. Life and warmth, a real celebration.

As they reached the grand hallway just before the ballroom entrance, guards straightened immediately at their approach. Y/N and Wanda paused there briefly, waiting for Lina’s arrival before the official presentation into the ballroom.

Wanda squeezed their arm gently. “Nervous?”

Y/N looked personally offended. “I’ve survived wars.”

“That wasn’t my question.”

Y/N sighed dramatically. “…A little.”

Because somehow Lina’s happiness mattered more than most diplomatic meetings ever had.

Wanda smiled knowingly.

Voices approached from the far corridor. And a second later—Lina appeared. Escorted proudly by Ser Rogers.

Y/N’s heart nearly stopped. Gods. Lina looked so small and so regal at the same time, and exactly as their mother.

Her outfit matched the theme perfectly—royal blue with silver dragon embroidery across the front, a tiny cape flowing dramatically behind her because apparently subtlety no longer existed in this family. Her hair had been carefully styled, though several strands already escaped from obvious excitement. And the grin on her face—pure sunshine.

The second she spotted them, her eyes lit up completely.

“Y/N!”

She immediately forgot royal composure and ran the rest of the way toward them. Steve sighed behind her with the exhausted fondness of a man who had clearly lost this battle several times already tonight.

Y/N laughed softly and crouched just in time to catch Lina as she launched herself at them. “There’s the birthday dragon,” they murmured warmly, lifting her easily into their arms.

Lina gasped dramatically at their outfit the second she leaned back enough to properly see them.

“You dressed like a real king!”

Y/N looked down at themself thoughtfully. “I should hope so.”

“No, but like—a storybook king.”

Wanda laughed softly beside them.

Lina turned immediately toward her too. “And Wanda looks like a queen from the dragon mountains!”

Wanda smiled warmly. “That sounds very impressive.”

“It is.” Lina nodded seriously before lowering her voice slightly toward Y/N. “I told everyone tonight has to feel magical.”

Y/N’s chest tightened painfully with affection. “Well,” they whispered back conspiratorially, “I think you already succeeded.”

Lina beamed. Then finally noticed Steve still standing nearby trying very hard not to smile too visibly.

“And Ser Rogers helped me practice dancing!”

Steve looked immediately betrayed. “That information was supposed to remain private.”

Lina gasped. “Oh no.”

Y/N grinned instantly. “Too late.”

Steve sighed while Wanda laughed softly beside them, the sound warm as it echoed through the corridor. Then the large ballroom doors began to open. The music softened. Conversations quieted. Immediately, Lina straightened, her eyes widening slightly. And the realization finally hit.

It was time.

Y/N smiled and crouched in front of her. “Nervous?”

Lina nodded once, then immediately shook her head, then nodded again.

Wanda laughed gently. Y/N took one of Lina’s small hands and gave it a squeeze. “You know the secret?”

“What secret?”

“Everyone in there is already hoping you have fun.”

Lina blinked. “They are?”

“Of course.”

Her shoulders relaxed a little. Y/N smiled and stood, carefully setting her back on her feet.

“You ready?”

Lina took a deep breath and nodded firmly. “Ready.”

A servant stepped forward, and the doors opened fully. The ballroom beyond glowed beneath hundreds of candles. Music drifted through the enormous space as nobles, knights, servants, merchants, villagers, and children alike turned toward the entrance. The servant struck the floor with his staff.

“Their Majesty, King Y/N of Virelia.” The room applauded immediately. 

“Her Majesty, Queen Wanda of Virelia.” More applause followed.

Y/N offered Wanda their arm, and together they entered the ballroom. The applause grew louder—warm, genuine, nothing like the forced court ceremonies they remembered from childhood. These people loved Wanda, and many of them are starting to love Y/N too. It still surprised them sometimes.

They reached the center of the ballroom before the servant spoke again, his voice carrying proudly through the hall.

“Her Royal Highness, Princess Lina of Virelia.”

The room erupted. Louder than before. Lina appeared beside Steve, who escorted her with all the seriousness of a royal knight despite the tiny dragon cape fluttering behind her. Her eyes widened. People were cheering. Actually cheering. Servants, knights, children, villagers—everyone.

Y/N watched realization spread across their face. Then the biggest smile imaginable appeared. Suddenly the entire room seemed brighter. Wanda squeezed Y/N’s hand, and Y/N squeezed right back.

Gods. They would burn kingdoms before letting that smile disappear.

---

It was time for the first dance. Y/N stepped forward and bowed dramatically in front of Lina. “May I have this dance, Your Highness?”

Lina immediately burst into giggles before copying Wanda's etiquette lessons and offering a surprisingly graceful curtsy. “You may.”

The ballroom laughed affectionately as the music began. Y/N took her hand and guided her gently into the dance. Lina missed several steps, stepped on Y/N's boot twice, spun the wrong direction once, and laughed through the entire thing. Y/N couldn't stop smiling. Neither could Wanda.

Around them, the guests watched fondly as king and princess danced together beneath golden chandeliers. For a few precious minutes, Lina was the center of the world—exactly where she deserved to be.

When the song ended, applause filled the ballroom once more. Lina bowed dramatically. Y/N bowed even lower, which immediately made her laugh.

Then Steve stepped forward. “May I have the next dance, Your Highness?”

Lina instantly straightened, clearly trying to look very royal. “You may.”

Steve offered his arm, and Lina took it proudly as the next dance began. As promised, the rest of the guests were now invited to join. The ballroom quickly filled with movement. Children darted between adults, laughter mixed with music, and the celebration finally settled into a joyful rhythm.

Then Y/N felt a familiar hand slip into theirs.

Wanda.

Their eyes met instantly. Neither needed to ask.

Y/N gently pulled her toward the dance floor. “My queen.”

Wanda smiled. “My king.”

Then they began to dance. Slowly. Comfortably.

Y/N careful of her pregnancy. Wanda leaning closer whenever she pleased. Their foreheads brushed once, then again, and Y/N found themself smiling for no reason other than the simple fact that Wanda existed.

Nearby, another scene was unfolding.

Barnes stood awkwardly beside the refreshments, looking deeply uncomfortable, which naturally meant Natasha was enjoying herself.

“Dance with me.” Nat smirk.

Barnes blinked. “Was that an order?”

“Maybe.”

“That’s abuse of authority.”

Natasha smirk wider.

Barnes sighed and offered his hand anyway. Natasha’s smile softened instantly as she accepted it, and together they disappeared into the crowd.

The ballroom buzzed with life around them. Music filled the air while children ran between tables, knights attempted dancing, and servants openly enjoyed the celebration without worrying about noble etiquette for once. Exactly the atmosphere Y/N had hoped for.

Their eyes darting back at Lina.

She had apparently escaped from the dance floor and was now standing near one of the dessert tables, examining a dragon-shaped pastry with intense concentration.

Y/N smiled, but it died when they saw someone approaching her.

Eren.

The boy had clearly spent the last several minutes gathering courage. He straightened his jacket, fixed his hair, and marched toward Lina with the determination of a knight heading into battle.

“Oh no,” Y/N muttered.

Beside them, Wanda followed their gaze and immediately started smiling.

Eren stopped in front of Lina. She looked up from her pastry. The boy visibly swallowed before giving a surprisingly formal bow for a ten-year-old.

Y/N took one step forward.

Immediately, Wanda grabbed their arm.

“Oh no.”

Y/N stared at her. “What do you mean, ‘oh no’?”

“You’re not interfering.”

“I wasn’t going to interfere.”

“You literally took a step.”

“I was observing.”

Wanda laughed.

Meanwhile, Eren was clearly trying very hard to speak like an adult. Lina listened attentively. Then her face lit up and she nodded enthusiastically.

Y/N narrowed their eyes. “What did she agree to?”

“A dance,” Wanda answered immediately.

Y/N took another step.

Wanda physically pulled them back.

“No.”

“Wanda.”

“No.”

“He’s circling.”

Wanda burst out laughing.

“He’s ten.”

“Exactly.”

“That’s not helping your argument.”

Y/N folded their arms. “She didn’t even had a debut yet.”

“Y/N.”

“He has a strategy.”

“He is ten.”

“He has intentions.”

“He is ten.”

Y/N pointed dramatically toward the children.

“Look at him.”

Eren was currently offering Lina his hand with all the seriousness of a fairytale prince. Wanda had to cover her mouth to stop laughing.

“He’s courting.”

“He asked her to dance at her birthday party.”

“Exactly.”

Finally, Wanda reached up and cupped Y/N’s cheek, forcing them to look at her instead of the dance floor. Their expression remained deeply suspicious.

“My love.”

“What?”

“He is ten.”

“I know that.”

“Then why are you acting like he’s about to propose marriage?”

Y/N opened their mouth, paused, then stubbornly answered, “Because he’s going after my little sister.”

Wanda’s eyes softened immediately. She leaned up and kissed them—quick, warm, affectionate.

When she pulled back, Y/N still looked unconvinced. Which only made her laugh harder.

“Are you jealous?”

“No.”

The answer came far too quickly making Wanda laughed immediately.

Y/N looked betrayed. “I’m not.”

“Of course not.”

“I’m serious.”

“Mhm.”

“I am.”

Still smiling, Wanda kissed their cheek and took one of their hands, placing it gently over her stomach. Almost immediately, their baby kicked, changing Y/N’s entire expression. The suspicious older sibling was gone. Now there was only a delighted future parent.

Wanda smiled triumphantly.

“Good timing.”

Y/N rubbed her stomach gently. The baby kicked again.

“See?” Wanda said innocently. “Your child is hungry.”

Y/N immediately looked toward the buffet tables, then back at Wanda, then at the buffet again.

A terrible realization dawned.

Wanda’s smile widened. “Go get us food.”

“You planned this.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You distracted me.”

“Our child distracted you.”

Y/N pointed accusingly.

Wanda kissed their finger making them blush, and their eyes darken.

And just like that, they lost the argument completely.

A few moments later, Y/N could be seen heading toward the food tables while Wanda watched with a victorious smile.

Meanwhile, on the dance floor, Lina and Eren were trying very hard to dance like adults.

---

By the time the dancing slowed and the enormous birthday cake had been thoroughly attacked by a room full of children, it was finally time for gifts.

Lina immediately climbed into the oversized chair prepared for her near the front of the ballroom, looking entirely too pleased with herself.

The first gift was from Y/N. When Lina opened the long wooden box and found a training sword made specifically for her, her name engraved along the blade. Y/N wanted to teach her how to defend herself. 

Lina immediately launched herself at them. The entire ballroom laughed as Y/N caught her easily.

“Thank you!”

“You are welcome, little dove.”

Next came Wanda's gift: a beautiful leather-bound journal decorated with silver stars and flowers.

“It’s a diary. So you can take note of all the adventures you will have,” Wanda explained.

Lina immediately hugged both the journal and Wanda.

After that came Ser Rogers. Steve's gift was a child's knight set complete with a painted wooden shield, training gauntlets, and a small sash. Lina immediately declared herself “officially dangerous now,” while Steve looked like he was reconsidering every decision that had led him to this moment.

Ser Barnes was next. His gift was a children's archery set complete with padded arrows and a target. Lina looked at it as though he'd handed her buried treasure. Y/N immediately started imagining broken windows.

Then came Natasha. Her gift was a beautiful red cloak trimmed with silver embroidery and lined with soft fur for winter. Lina wrapped herself in it immediately and refused to remove it for the rest of the evening. Natasha looked deeply satisfied with herself.

Several more gifts followed. One noble family presented Lina with a delicate silver bracelet decorated with tiny stars, while another gifted her a collection of beautifully illustrated fairy tale books. Lina was delighted by both.

Then one of the village children approached—a little girl around Lina's age carrying a small package wrapped in plain cloth. Inside was a handmade rag doll wearing a tiny blue dress. The stitching was uneven, and one button eye sat slightly higher than the other, but it was obvious it had been made with care.

The little girl immediately started apologizing.

“It’s not very pretty—”

“It’s beautiful.” Lina hugged the doll instantly.

The little girl beamed.

Wanda's eyes suspiciously filled with tears.

Finally, Eren approached.

The poor boy looked more nervous than Y/N had ever seen him, which was saying something. Lina immediately sat up straighter when she saw him coming.

Y/N noticed and narrowed their eyes.

Wanda noticed Y/N noticing and immediately grabbed their arm.

“No.”

“I’m not doing anything.”

“You are absolutely doing something.”

“I am observing.”

Wanda rolled her eyes.

Eren handed over a carefully wrapped package. Lina opened it slowly. Inside was a small wooden music box. Handmade.

When she turned the little handle, a soft melody drifted through the ballroom. The lid opened to reveal a tiny dancing princess carved from wood.

The room grew noticeably quieter.

Eren’s face turned bright red. “My…dad taught me how to make it when he was still alive… Ser Rogers helped me make it.”

Lina stared at the spinning figure for a long moment.

Then she smiled. Not the excited grin she'd given the sword. Not the delighted laugh she'd given the cloak.

A different smile. Softer.

“It’s beautiful.”

Eren looked like someone had just handed him a kingdom.

Wanda immediately hid her smile behind her hand.

Y/N narrowed their eyes further. But this time, they didn't say anything. Because despite every protective instinct screaming otherwise, Lina looked happy. Really happy.

And tonight was about her.

So Y/N simply crossed their arms and let it go. For now.

The rest of the evening passed wonderfully. There was more dancing, more cake, and more children running through the ballroom despite several servants' increasingly desperate attempts to stop them. Lina spent the night bouncing from one activity to another, laughing so much her cheeks turned pink.

And every time Y/N looked over, their little sister was smiling.

Not the careful smile she'd worn for years under Alaric. Not the quiet one she used when she thought nobody was watching.

A real smile. Bright and carefree.

The kind she should have been allowed to have all along. Seeing it made something warm settle inside Y/N’s chest. Because for the first time, Lina was having the birthday she deserved.

Eventually the music faded. Guests departed. Families returned home carrying sleepy children, and the ballroom slowly emptied until only a handful of servants remained cleaning up.

It was already very late.

Lina looked tired now. But happy.

Y/N glanced toward Wanda. Immediately, Wanda understood. Her hand found theirs beneath the table and squeezed gently.

The final gift.

The one they had spoken about days ago. The one Y/N had spent longer thinking about than all the others combined.

Wanda's eyes softened.

Then she leaned up and kissed their cheek. A quiet gesture. Full of understanding.

“You should go,” she whispered.

Y/N smiled.

Ser Romanoff stepped forward to escort the queen back to their chambers. Wanda squeezed Y/N's hand one final time before leaving, and just before she disappeared through the ballroom doors, she glanced back over her shoulder.

Smiling. Encouraging.

Go.

Once Wanda was gone, Y/N approached Lina. The little girl was sitting in a chair, holding her new music box while trying—and failing—not to yawn.

“Had fun?”

Lina immediately nodded. “The best birthday ever.”

Y/N’s smile softened. “The best?”

“The best.”

Y/N kiss her head before offered their hand. “Come on.”

Lina took it immediately. “Where are we going?”

Y/N only smiled. “One more gift.”

Her eyes widened instantly. “Another one?”

“One last one.”

Lina looked delighted. Then curious. Then suspicious.

“Is it a pony?”

“No.”

“A dragon?”

“No.”

“A dragon pony?”

Y/N laughed. “No. Dragons don’t exist!”

Lina sighed dramatically. “Okay.”

They walked through the quiet palace corridors together, the sounds of the celebration slowly fading behind them. The castle felt different now—still, peaceful. Most of the candles had burned low, and the servants they passed smiled warmly at Lina and wished her a happy birthday.

Eventually they reached a part of the palace Lina rarely visited.

And finally, they stopped before a familiar door.

Lina frowned. “What room is this?”

Y/N looked at the door for a moment before turning back to her. “Mama’s.”

Lina blinked. Immediately confused.

“…Mama’s?”

Y/N nodded. A small silence settled between them. Lina looked back at the door slowly, as though she wasn’t entirely sure she had heard correctly.

“I thought…”

She hesitated. “I thought there wasn’t anything left.”

Y/N understood. “I thought so too.”

Then they pushed the door open.

The room beyond glowed softly in candlelight. Warm and gentle.

Lina stepped inside slowly. Completely silent. Her eyes moved everywhere at once.

Taking everything in. The books. The furniture. The little decorative pieces. The embroidery frame resting beside a chair. The portrait above the fireplace.

And then she stopped.

Because there—resting on a table near the fireplace, was a portrait of Queen Eleonora heavily pregnant, one hand resting on her stomach.

And beside her stood Y/N. Already tall for their age. Already carrying the posture Alaric had beaten into them. Serious. Guarded. Trying very hard to look older than they were.

And yet standing close enough that their shoulder touched Eleonora's arm. One of her hands rested gently in their hair.

The painter had captured something Y/N hadn't noticed until years later—the tiny smile on their mother's face and the way she was looking at them.

Like they were the most precious thing in the world.

Lina stopped.

The room became very quiet.

She stepped closer.

Then closer.

Until she stood directly in front of the painting.

Y/N remained a few steps behind, watching and waiting.

Lina stared at the portrait for a long time. At Eleonora. At the baby bump. At thirteen-year-old Y/N.

Then, softly— “…that’s me.”

Y/N swallowed. “Yeah.”

Lina reached toward the painting but stopped just before touching it, as if afraid it might disappear.

“Mama looked happy.”

The words hit harder than Y/N expected. Because she had. Even then. Even carrying the exhaustion of years. Even knowing what waited for her.

Eleonora had still smiled whenever she looked at her children.

Y/N stepped closer and carefully reached into their coat.

Lina looked up, confused.

Y/N pulled out an envelope.

Old. Protected.

For a moment they simply stared at it. Then held it out.

Lina blinked. “What’s that?”

Y/N’s throat tightened. “A letter.”

Lina took it carefully. “From who?”

Y/N looked toward the portrait. “…From Mama.”

The room went still.

Lina’s eyes widened. “She wrote me a letter?”

Y/N nodded.

“Before you were born.”

Lina stared at the envelope as though it might vanish if she blinked.

Then she slowly opened it. Her small hands trembled.

And she began to read.

---

My precious little one, If you are reading this, then it means I was never given the chance to hold you for as long as I wished I could. There are already so many things I wanted to tell you. How I spoke to you when no one else was around. How your brother would rest their head against my stomach and talk to you as though you could already answer back. How every time you moved, Y/N would look at me with the same frightened wonder they used to have as a child whenever they discovered something beautiful. You are already loved more than you will ever fully understand. Especially by him. Your brother carries a heart far too gentle for this kingdom, though I pray the world never succeeds in hardening it completely. There will be people who misunderstand Y/N. Some will fear what they do not understand. Others will try to convince him that he is too soft, too emotional, too different. Do not believe those people. I have lived among cruel men for many years, and I can promise you this with certainty: There is nothing stronger than a person who remains kind after surviving pain. And there is no one in this world I would trust more to protect you than Y/N. He has protected me since he was small enough to fit entirely in my lap. Even when frightened. Even when hurting. Even when no one protected him in return. So if one day you are scared, or lonely, or uncertain of where you belong—go to him. Y/N will hold your hand through every storm this world places before you. That is simply who he is. Please be patient with him too. He carries wounds much older than he should. Some visible. Some hidden deep enough that even he may not fully understand them yet. But beneath all of it, your brother’s heart is beautiful. Never let anyone convince you otherwise. I hope you grow surrounded by the kind of love I once dreamed this palace might hold. I hope you laugh loudly. I hope you run through gardens without fear. I hope you are allowed to become exactly who you are without shame. And I hope that when you look at Y/N, you do not only see a future king. I hope you see what I see. A person who fought very hard to remain gentle in a world that rewarded cruelty. Take care of each other. Love each other fiercely. That is how people survive places like this. And if there is anything beyond this life, know that I will spend eternity loving both of you. Forever yours, Mama

---

The first tear landed on the page before Lina reached the end.

Then another. And another.

By the time she whispered the final words—her vision was completely blurred.

The letter lowered slowly. Her lips trembled.

Y/N could already see it coming.

The grief. The longing. The realization that this was the closest she would ever come to hearing her mother's voice.

Y/N didn't hesitate. They gathered Lina into their arms. Holding her close.

Safe.

Lina buried her face in their neck and sobbed. Not quietly.

Y/N felt tears gathering in their own eyes again.

Gods. Their mother was still finding ways to make them cry.

The letter crumpled slightly in Lina's hand as she clung to them.

Then, through her tears, she whispered:

“Why did Mama leave us?”

The question shattered Y/N. Because Lina wasn't asking about childbirth. Or death.

She was asking the question every child asks.

Why didn't she stay?

Y/N closed their eyes and held her tighter. “Mama didn't leave us.”

Lina cried harder.

Y/N pressed their cheek against her hair. “She wanted to stay.” Their own voice cracked. “More than anything.”

A sob escaped Lina.

Y/N looked toward the portrait. Toward their mother.

Still smiling from across the room. Still watching over them somehow.

“Mama loved you before she even met you.”

Lina's shoulders trembled.

“Really?”

The word came out broken. Y/N smiled through tears. “Really.”

They pulled back just enough to brush the tears from her cheeks.

“She talked about you all the time.”

Lina looked up at them. Red-eyed. Heartbroken.

Y/N kissed her forehead, just like Eleonora used to kiss theirs, then pulled her close again.

Lina didn't let go. If anything, she held tighter. Her small arms wrapped around Y/N's neck while she continued crying into their shoulder, the letter still clutched tightly in one hand.

Y/N just held her.

One hand rubbed slow circles across her back while the other rested protectively against her hair. The room remained quiet except for the crackling fireplace and Lina's soft sobs.

After a moment, Y/N shifted carefully and slipped one arm beneath Lina's knees, lifting her into their arms. Lina immediately buried her face deeper into their neck, not protesting, not wanting to be anywhere else.

Y/N carried her across the room toward one of the armchairs near the fireplace.

The same chair Eleonora used to sit in while reading. The chair where Y/N had spent countless evenings curled against her side.

They lowered themself into it slowly, settling Lina onto their lap before wrapping both arms around her and holding her close against their chest. Like their mother used to do when their were at that age.

Lina continued crying quietly. Y/N rested their cheek on top of her head and waited.

Eventually the sobs softened. Then slowed. 

Then became little more than sniffles. But Lina still didn't move from their lap.

Several minutes passed before her small voice finally broke the silence.

“...Y/N?”

“Hm?”

And Y/N wasn’t prepared for what came next.

“What if Wanda leaves too?”

The words hit like a blade. Y/N went completely still for a second.

But inside, fear exploded.

The same fear that had lived quietly in the back of their mind ever since learning Wanda was pregnant. The same fear that woke them some nights. The same fear they never spoke aloud.

What if history repeated itself?

What if—No.

Y/N buried the thought immediately.

For Lina.

For Wanda.

And for the baby.

They swallowed carefully and pressed a kiss into Lina's hair.

“Wanda will be fine.”

Lina remained curled against them. “Really?”

Y/N wanted to promise. Wanted to say yes. But they couldn't.

Not after everything life had taught them.

So instead they chose honesty. “The healers say she's healthy.”

Lina listened carefully.

“And she's much healthier than Mama was during her pregnancy.”

That part was true. Painfully true.

Eleonora had been growing weaker long before Lina was born.

Wanda wasn't. Wanda was strong. Healthy. Stubborn enough to terrify ministers and healers alike.

Y/N smiled faintly.

“The baby is healthy too.”

Lina thought about that for a moment before looking up, eyes still wet.

“You promise?”

The question hurt. Because Y/N knew what she was really asking. Not for certainty. For comfort. For someone to tell her everything would be okay.

Y/N brushed a tear from her cheek.

“I can't promise.”

Lina's face fell slightly.

“But I can tell you Wanda is doing very well.”

Y/N smiled softly.

“And if anyone can bully death into leaving her alone, it's probably Wanda.”

A tiny laugh escaped Lina. Small but real.

Y/N smiled too.

The little girl leaned back against their chest.

Comforted. Not entirely but enough for now.

Several quiet moments passed before Y/N glanced around the room. At the bookshelves. The paintings. The flowers. The memories. Everything Eleonora had left behind.

Then they looked down at Lina.

“You know...”

Lina tilted her head.

Y/N smiled softly. “This room is yours now.”

She blinked. “...Mine?”

“If you want it.”

Lina looked around slowly, carefully taking everything in.

The portrait.

The books.

The fireplace.

The pieces of their mother that still remained here.

Her eyes widened.

“Really?”

Y/N nodded. “You can move all yours things here.”

Lina stared. Speechless. For once.

Then her gaze drifted back to Eleonora's portrait, and suddenly tears filled her eyes again.

“So I can stay with Mama?”

Y/N's eyes burned immediately. They tightened their arms around her. Holding her securely against their chest.

“Yeah.”Their voice cracked slightly. “You're staying with Mama.”

Lina smiled through fresh tears and curled closer into them.

For a long while, neither moved.

Just two siblings sitting together in their mother's chair beneath her portrait, wrapped in the love she had left behind for both of them.

---

A Month Later

Wanda’s POV

A month passed surprisingly quickly.

After her birthday, Lina had officially moved into Queen Eleonora's chambers. At first, Wanda worried it might be too emotional for her, but instead Lina thrived. She adored the room, the books, the paintings, and every little keepsake Eleonora had left behind. More than once, Wanda found her sitting beneath one of her mother's portraits, happily chatting away as though Eleonora could hear every word.

And perhaps she could.

Y/N certainly seemed to think so.

Some portraits remained in Eleonora's chambers. Others Y/N had quietly brought back to their own chamber. One sat beside the fireplace, another near Wanda's reading chair, and a smaller one rested on Y/N's desk. Whenever they thought nobody was watching, Wanda sometimes caught them looking at those portraits.

Not sadly. Just...Missing her.

The pregnancy was progressing beautifully. The healers couldn't have been happier. The baby was healthy, growing exactly as expected and already kicking with alarming enthusiasm. Wanda felt well too—tired sometimes, hungry constantly, but otherwise perfectly healthy.

The only person struggling was arguably Y/N.

Not physically.

Emotionally.

Because the closer they got to the birth, the more protective they became.

And honestly?

It was becoming ridiculous.

Like right now.

Wanda was enjoying the afternoon sun in the palace gardens, a book in hand as she wandered slowly along a stone path.

Peaceful. Quiet. Until—

“Wanda.”

She sighed. There they were. Y/N approached from across the garden looking deeply concerned.

Again.

“What?”

“You were walking.”

Wanda blinked.

“…yes.”

“Without anyone.”

“I am in the palace garden.”

Y/N still looked unconvinced.

Wanda stared at them. And the baby kicked as if enjoying the argument.

“You could have slipped.”

“On what?”

Y/N glanced at the ground. “…a leaf.”

Wanda laughed.

“A leaf.”

“It happens.”

“It does not.”

“It could.”

Gods. A month ago Y/N would have worried. Now they were just hovering.

The baby kicked again. Y/N immediately abandoned the argument and placed a hand against her stomach.

Traitor.

Wanda watched their expression soften instantly.

Every single time. Like magic.

“Did you miss Papa?” Y/N say softly.

Another kick.

Y/N smiled.

And Wanda's chest tightened. Because moments like this made the fear easier to see.

Not in what Y/N said. But in what they didn't.

---

That night, after supper, Wanda lay comfortably against the headboard while Y/N sat beside her reading. Or pretending to.

They had been staring at the same page for nearly ten minutes.

Wanda watched them quietly. Candlelight danced across their face, catching the faint scar on their cheek and the tension hidden behind their eyes.

Gods. She knew them too well now.

Y/N hadn't spoken about their fears. Not directly. But Wanda saw them anyway.

In the way they checked on her three times every night. In the way they asked the healers the same questions repeatedly. In the way their hand always found her stomach whenever they sat together, as though reassuring themselves that both mother and baby were still there.

Still safe. Still breathing.

Wanda set her book aside and slid closer.

Y/N immediately wrapped an arm around her without even looking away from the book they were pretending to read.

“My love.”

Their eyes lifted.

“Hm?”

Wanda reached up and brushed a hand through their hair. The book was forgotten instantly.

She smiled softly. And there it was.

The fear.

Hidden deep. But present.

Y/N swallowed once.

Wanda's heart ached. Because she knew exactly where it came from.

They saw their mother become weak during pregnancy. And with their baby due in only a few weeks.

Of course they were afraid.

Of course they were.

She leaned forward and kissed them gently, then rested her forehead against theirs.

“I’m okay.”

Y/N smiled immediately. “I know.”

Wanda knew that smile. Knew it well enough to recognize when it was hiding something.

Instead of arguing, she set her book aside and opened her arms.

Y/N looked at her for a moment, then immediately moved. Like they'd been waiting for permission. Wanda pulled their head against her chest, one hand settling in their hair while the other rubbed slow circles across their back. The room was quiet except for the soft crackle of the fire.

Y/N's arm wrapped around her waist. Holding on.

Wanda kept stroking their hair, knowing she couldn't make them stop worrying. Not completely.

Eventually Y/N sighed. A long, tired sound.

“I know you're healthy. The healers are happy. They say everything is going perfectly.”

Their fingers tightened slightly against her side.

“And I know this is different.”

Wanda's chest tightened. Because it was. Eleonora hadn't been healthy.

Wanda was. The baby was too.

Y/N knew that. Logically. But fear wasn't logical.

“I know Mama's pregnancy wasn't like yours,” they said quietly. “I know the healers were already worried about her. I know all of that.”

A pause.

“But I still get scared.”

There it was. The truth.

Y/N pressed their forehead lightly against her shoulder.

“I don't want to lose you.”

Wanda's eyes stung immediately.

Gods. She loved them. So much.

Her fingers slipped through their hair again.

“You won't.”

Y/N laughed softly. “You don't know that.”

“No.”

Wanda wouldn't lie to them. “I don't.”

Y/N closed their eyes.

“But I know this.” She cupped their cheek gently. “You are not that frightened child anymore.”

Their eyes lifted to hers.

“And I am not alone.”

Y/N's expression softened.

“We have healers checking on me every week,” Wanda said, kissing their forehead. “We have an entire palace ready to panic if I sneeze.”

Another kiss. “And we have you.”

That finally earned a small smile. The fear didn't disappear.

But it loosened. Enough for now.

After a moment, they spoke again.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Always.”

They looked away briefly. “If the baby ends up like me...”

Wanda understood immediately.

“If they're born with one body and heart different from what people expect...” Their throat tightened. “...would you care?”

“No.”

The answer came instantly.

Y/N blinked.

Wanda cupped their face. “No,” she repeated softly. “I wouldn't care at all.”

Something eased inside them.

Just a little.

Wanda smiled. “As long as our baby is healthy.” Her hand rested over her stomach. “And loved.”

Y/N visibly relaxed.

Then Wanda added, “Though I do hope they look like you.”

Y/N's head snapped up. “What?”

“I do.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

Y/N looked horrified. “My love, have you seen yourself?”

“Have you?”

Y/N pointed at her.

“You have auburn hair. Beautiful green eyes.”

“You're biased.” Wanda chuckle.

“I married you. That's my job! But I’m telling the truth!”

Wanda laughed. Then rested a hand over her stomach.

“I want them to have your heart.”

The teasing faded.

“Your kindness. Your gentleness. The way you love people.”

Y/N immediately looked away. Embarrassed.

Wanda smiled and turned their face back toward hers. “I mean it.”

After a moment, Y/N recovered.

“I want them to have your hair.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“My hair is impossible.”

“Exactly.”

Wanda laughed.

“I want your eyes too.”

“They're just eyes.” Y/N make a face.

“They're your eyes.”

The baby suddenly kicked. Both of them looked down. Then another kick followed.

Y/N's entire face softened. They placed a hand over her stomach and leaned down to press a kiss there. “I don't really care who they look like. As long as they are healthy.”

Wanda's heart melted. Of course. That was what mattered most to them.

She cupped their cheek. “I know.”

Y/N leaned into her touch, and when Wanda kissed them, thoughts of hair color and eye color faded away. Only love remained. And the certainty that their child would be adored beyond reason.

---

Without either of them realizing it, time continued moving.

Days became weeks, and weeks became a month.

And slowly, piece by piece, they prepared for their baby.

The palace began changing around them. A basket appeared beside their bed. Tiny clothes found their way into drawers. Blankets, books, and wooden toys accumulated faster than seemed possible.

Then came the crib.

Most royal and noble children slept in nurseries from the beginning, surrounded by nurses and attendants far from their parents.

Neither Wanda nor Y/N cared.

The crib stood beside their bed, close enough for Wanda to reach without standing and close enough for Y/N to undoubtedly check if the baby was breathing every five minutes.

Wanda fully expected them to do exactly that.

The crib itself had quietly become Y/N's latest project. Despite insisting they were only making "minor adjustments," Wanda eventually discovered those adjustments involved hand-carving delicate details into the wood.

When Wanda asked, Y/N claimed it was important. Wanda suspected they simply wanted something to fuss over. Either way, it was beautiful.

And every time she looked at it, her chest tightened.

Soon it wouldn't be empty. Soon there would be a baby sleeping there.

Their baby.

They even prepared a nursery despite having no intention of using it immediately. It occupied Y/N's old chambers, though almost nothing remained unchanged. The dark furniture had been replaced, the walls brightened, and the rooms filled with bookshelves, soft rugs, comfortable chairs, and a little bed waiting for when the child grew older.

It no longer looked like a prince's chambers. It looked like a child's room.

The kind of room Y/N should have had growing up.

Wanda noticed that but she never mentioned it. Neither did Y/N.

And as the weeks passed, Wanda noticed something else.

Y/N still worried. Just... less obviously.

They stopped questioning the healers every other day. Stopped hovering every time she stood up. Stopped looking ready to summon half the palace whenever she sneezed.

Mostly.

Instead, whenever the worry became too much, they came looking for her. No explanations.

They would simply appear. Then pull her into their arms and hold her.

Like now.

Wanda was reviewing reports in her study when Y/N quietly walked in. One look was enough.

The reports were set aside.

Without a word, Y/N crossed the room and wrapped their arms around her, resting their forehead against the side of her head.

“Missed us?” Wanda murmured.

Y/N only hummed. Holding her tighter. And Wanda melted. Because she knew what they were doing. Checking. Reassuring themself. Making sure both of them were still there. Still safe.

So she leaned back against them and let them hold her for as long as they needed.

Eventually the tension left their shoulders. Only then did Y/N kiss her temple and return to whatever royal disaster awaited them.

It happened often.

Sometimes in the morning, at night, after difficult meetings, after passing one of Eleonora's portraits.

Y/N never explained. And Wanda never asked. She just held them back. Whenever they buried their face against her shoulder, she ran her fingers through their hair. Whenever they kissed her stomach, she kissed their forehead. Trying, in every small way she could, to tell them:

I'm here. We're okay.

---

Ser Romanoff also had opinions. “You're going to need wet nurses.”

Wanda looked up from her book.

Natasha stood beside the sofa while Y/N pretended not to listen.

“You realize queens have used wet nurses for centuries?”

“I know.”

“You'll be exhausted.”

“I know.”

“You'll barely sleep.”

“I know.”

Natasha narrowed her eyes.

Wanda smiled. “I still don't want one.”

At least not yet. The thought of feeding her child herself, holding them close, being the first comfort they knew in the world—she wanted that.

Perhaps later she would accept help.

Perhaps not.

She would decide when the time came.

Natasha sighed dramatically. “As expected.”

So life continued.

The crib waited beside their bed. The nursery waited down the hall. Tiny clothes filled drawers. Lina prepared aggressively for her role as aunt. And with every passing day, the baby grew closer.

Until even the palace seemed to be holding its breath. Waiting for the moment their family would become one person larger.

---

Y/N's POV

“This is ridiculous.”

Ser Barnes didn't even look up from his horse. They rode side by side toward a nearby village, a small escort following behind. Y/N was in a terrible mood. And Ser Barnes knew it.

“This could have been handled by literally anyone else.”

“It couldn't.”

“It absolutely could.”

“It couldn't.”

Y/N glared. Ser Barnes remained unimpressed.

“Wanda could give birth any day now.”

“We know.”

“No, I don't think you do.”

Ser Barnes finally looked over.

Y/N looked genuinely distressed. Not angry. Distressed.

Which was worse.

“She’s due soon.”

“We know.”

“The baby could decide today is the day.”

“We know.”

“I should be with her.”

“And you will be.”

“What if she needs me?”

“Then someone will come get you.”

“What if it happens before they arrive?”

“We're less than an hour from the capital.”

“What if—”

“Y/N.”

The king stopped talking. Briefly.

Ser Barnes sighed. “The queen is healthy. The baby is healthy. There are healers, midwives, guards, servants, and half the palace watching her.”

Y/N frowned. “That doesn't make me feel better.”

“I know.” Ser Barnes sigh, “The village requested direct intervention from the crown.”

Y/N folded their arms. Still grumpy and unconvinced.

Ser Barnes had known them long enough to recognize the difference between annoyance and genuine distress. This was the latter.

Y/N stared ahead for a long moment before sighing. “If Wanda gives birth while I'm out here...”

Ser Barnes already knew where this was going.

“...I'm going to kick your ass.”

The threat was delivered with complete seriousness.

Ser Barnes burst out laughing.

Y/N looked even more offended. “I'm serious.”

“I know.”

“I'm not joking.”

“I know.”

Y/N pointed at him from horseback.

“If I miss the birth of my child because of three merchants arguing over something stupid, I will personally make your life miserable.”

Ser Barnes grinned. “Fair.”

“I'm glad you understand.”

“I do.”

Ser Barnes nodded solemnly. “If Her Majesty goes into labor while we're here, you have my full permission to kick my ass.”

“Good.”

A few moments later, Ser Barnes glanced sideways at them.

“You know she's going to be fine.”

Y/N's expression softened immediately. Just for a second.

“I know.” And they did.

The healers weren't worried. Wanda wasn't worried. Even Lina wasn't worried anymore.

Only Y/N.

Y/N was worried enough for everyone.

Ser Barnes let the silence sit for a moment. Then quietly said, “She's strong."

Y/N looked down at the reins in their hands. A faint smile appearing despite everything. "Yeah."

"Stronger than you, honestly."

That actually made Y/N laugh. A genuine laugh. Because it was true.

"She is." The fondness in their voice was immediate.

Ser Barnes smirked making Y/N rolled their eyes. But the smile remained.

"She is stronger than me."

They looked ahead toward the village in the distance. Then nudged Philip forward.

"Now let's hurry so I can get back faster."

Before Ser Barnes could answer, Philip surged ahead eagerly. Ser Barnes sighed before urging his own horse to follow.

---

Fortunately, Ser Barnes had been right.

The dispute really had needed the crown.

Three merchant families had spent weeks arguing over trade routes, taxes, and ownership claims. The moment Y/N arrived, they listened to everyone, asked a few questions, forced the families to actually hear one another, and had the matter settled before the afternoon ended.

Even Y/N had to admit the village probably wouldn't have accepted anyone else's decision.

They still complained anyway.

On the ride home, Y/N rode beside Ser Barnes with their arms folded.

“This could have waited.”

“It could not.”

“It absolutely could have.”

“It could not.”

“It was solved in less than two hours.”

“Because you were there.”

Y/N groaned.

Ser Barnes looked deeply amused.

“I hate when you're right.”

“I know.”

The conversation died there when Y/N's eyes narrowed as they see far ahead on the road, a rider was approaching.

Fast. Too fast.

The horse was lathered with sweat. The knight wasn't slowing down. Something cold dropped into Y/N's stomach. Ser Barnes saw it too. Immediately, both of them straightened.

The knight closed the distance rapidly. Y/N's heart began pounding.

No.

No, no, no.

The rider finally reached them and hauled his horse to a stop.

“Your Majesty—”

“What happened?” The words came out instantly. Sharp and panicked.

The knight blinked. “Her Majesty—”

Y/N's blood ran cold.

“What happened?”

The knight sat up straighter.

“Her Majesty is in labor.”

For one terrible second, the world stopped.

Then everything happened at once. Y/N wheeled Philip around so fast the stallion barely had time to react.

“Y/N—”

Ser Barnes didn't even get to finish.

“Go Philip!” The single word cracked like thunder. Philip surged forward. Y/N dug in their heels. The stallion exploded into motion. The road vanished beneath them. Wind tore at their clothes. Branches blurred past.

All Y/N could hear was the thunder of hooves and the frantic pounding of their own heart.

Wanda. Wait for me my love. Please.

Just let me get there.

Philip ran faster. And Y/N didn't look back.

---

If nothing went wrong.

Which, considering her life, probably meant something would.

Yelena rested one hand lazily on the steering wheel while the radio played quietly in the background. Beside her, Wanda sat unusually peacefully, one elbow resting against the window.

For the fifth time in the last ten minutes...She looked into the backseat.

Y/N was asleep. One arm was tucked behind her head while the other rested across her stomach. Her head leaned against the window, hair falling over her forehead, completely unaware that someone had been staring at her for the past hour.

Wanda smiled. Again.

Yelena watched the reflection in the windshield. There it was. That stupid smile. Then Wanda quietly looked back out the window.

Thirty seconds later...She looked back again. Still asleep. Another tiny smile.

Yelena made a face. She'd enjoyed teasing them before. Back when they were both hopeless idiots dancing around each other.

Now?

Now they were just...Sweet. Unbearably sweet. Every time Y/N reached for something, Wanda handed it to her before she asked. Every time Wanda shifted in her seat, Y/N instinctively adjusted the air conditioning without looking away from the road. Every time one of them laughed...The other looked like they'd personally invented happiness.

It was annoying. Cute, sure. But annoying. Yelena physically shuddered.

"I miss when you were both emotionally constipated."

Wanda looked over. "...What?"

"You heard me."

"I don't even know what that means."

"It means this." Yelena gestured dramatically between Wanda and the sleeping wolf in the back. "All this..." She waved both hands. "The smiling."

Wanda blinked innocently. "What smiling?"

"The smiling you keep doing."

"I haven't smiled."

"You smiled three seconds ago."

"I did not."

"You looked at sleeping beauty back there and smiled like you were in romance movie."

Wanda's ears turned pink. "I wasn't—"

"You were."

"I just looked."

"Mhm."

"I did."

"You looked lovingly."

"I did not look lovingly!"

Yelena sighed dramatically. "This is exhausting."

Wanda crossed her arms, trying very hard not to smile again. It lasted exactly twenty seconds. Then she glanced back once more. Y/N had shifted slightly in her sleep, brows furrowing before relaxing again. Wanda's entire expression softened.

Yelena let out the loudest groan she'd made all week. "Oh my god."

"What?"

"You did it again."

"I didn't even—"

"You looked at her like she is baby deer."

"I was making sure she was comfortable."

"You are proving my point."

Wanda huffed. "I can't win with you."

"No."

Yelena looked ahead. Then suddenly spotted a weathered sign beside the highway.

DINER — NEXT EXIT

Perfect. She flicked on the turn signal. "We're stopping."

Wanda looked over. "Why?"

"Because if I spend another hour watching you two make heart eyes at each other, I will intentionally crash this car."

"I don't—"

"No."

Yelena pulled into the gravel parking lot before Wanda could finish defending herself.

The diner looked like it had been standing there since the seventies. A faded red sign hung crookedly above the entrance, and three pickup trucks were parked outside.

Yelena killed the engine. "Let's go eat."

The sudden silence woke Y/N immediately. Golden eyes snapped open. She looked around once. Twice. Then focused on the front seats. "...Did something happen?"

"No," Yelena answered while already climbing out. "I'm hungry." She slammed the door behind her and marched toward the entrance.

Y/N watched her disappear through the glass doors. "...Is she upset?"

Wanda climbed out of the passenger seat just as Y/N stepped onto the gravel beside her. "I don't know."

Y/N frowned slightly toward the diner. "She sounded grumpy."

"I noticed."

Y/N closed the car door before looking toward Wanda. "...Did I do something?"

"I don't think so."

Before Wanda could say anything else, she found herself gently pulled forward.

Y/N wrapped one arm around her waist, the other sliding carefully around her shoulders.

"Wha—"

A low, content rumble vibrated through Y/N's chest. The familiar purr.

Wanda laughed softly. "Someone's in a cuddly mood."

Instead of answering, Y/N leaned down and rubbed her nose gently against Wanda's cheek. A slow, affectionate nuzzle. The motion was so natural that it almost made Wanda forget they were standing in the middle of a parking lot.

She smiled helplessly.

"There you are..."

Y/N hummed happily, pulling her a little closer. "You smell nice."

"Thanks."

Another soft nuzzle. Wanda's cheeks warmed immediately. "You've become very affectionate."

Y/N blinked. "...Is that bad?"

"No." Wanda reached up, smoothing a strand of hair behind Y/N's ear. "It's very nice."

Y/N smiled. A real one. Not shy anymore. Not uncertain. Just... happy. She dipped her head again, brushing another tiny nuzzle against Wanda's temple before kissing the side of her forehead.

Wanda melted.

"I think," she murmured against Y/N's shoulder, "Yelena might actually kill us."

"...Why?"

"I think we've become annoying."

Y/N looked genuinely confused. "We haven't done anything."

Wanda laughed. "I know."

"You said affection is normal."

"It is."

"Then why would she be upset?"

"Because..." Wanda smiled. "She's Yelena."

"...Oh."

That apparently explained everything.

Inside the diner, Yelena happened to glance through the front window while waiting for the waitress. She froze. Outside...The giant wolf woman was nuzzling Wanda's face.

Again. And Wanda was smiling like an idiot again.

Yelena slowly closed her eyes. Then opened them. They were still doing it. She looked toward the ceiling. "Natasha," she muttered under her breath. "You owe me."

The elderly waitress approached with a warm smile. "Table for one?"

Yelena sighed. "...Unfortunately, three."

As if summoned by fate itself, the front door opened. Y/N held it open for Wanda. Of course she did. Wanda thanked her with another smile.

Yelena pinched the bridge of her nose. This was going to be the longest two days of her life. She followed the waitress to a booth near the window before sliding into one side with a quiet sigh. Reaching for the menu, she looked up as the waitress smiled.

“Coffee?”

“Please, three.”

The waitress nodded and disappeared toward the kitchen.

A moment later, Wanda and Y/N joined her. Y/N instinctively waited for Wanda to slide into the booth before taking the seat beside her. Yelena watched the entire thing happen and simply rolled her eyes.

Of course.

The waitress returned with three mugs of coffee, setting them down before leaving them to decide on breakfast. Silence settled over the table as everyone looked over their menus. After a minute, Y/N leaned a little closer to Wanda, angling her menu just enough for Wanda to see.

“They have blueberry pancakes.”

Wanda glanced to where Y/N was pointing, a small smile spreading across her face. “I see them.”

Y/N nodded once, looking quietly pleased she'd found them.

Across the table, Yelena looked between the two of them before shaking her head with an amused smile. “And there goes the lovesick smiles again.” Yelena comments.

Wanda groaned softly. “Just leave us alone Yelena!”

“I wish!” Yelena replied with a small shrug.

The waitress returned a few minutes later with a notepad tucked beneath her arm. “Ready to order?”

Wanda nodded. “I'll have the blueberry pancakes with a side of bacon.”

“I'll take the country breakfast,” Y/N said. “And... another side of pancakes.”

The waitress smiled as she scribbled everything down before looking at Yelena.

“The western omelet. Hash browns instead of fries.”

“I'll have that right out.”

She disappeared toward the kitchen, leaving the three of them with the smell of fresh coffee drifting through the diner.

Wanda wrapped both hands around her mug before looking at Yelena. “So... how much longer?”

Yelena thought for a moment before answering. “If the roads stay clear...” She took a sip of coffee. “Two more days.”

Wanda nodded. “And then?”

“We find the safehouse.”

“And hope Natasha is there.”

Yelena's expression softened slightly. “Yeah.”

“If she's not?”

“We figure out the next step.”

Y/N quietly listened while stirring cream into her coffee. “You think Hydra knows where we're going?”

Yelena shook her head. “No. But I still don't like staying anywhere too long.”

“We'll keep moving if we have to.”

Y/N nodded once. “I'll keep watch tonight.”

“You've kept watch every night,” Wanda reminded her.

“I know.”

“You need sleep too.”

“I sleep.”

“Wolf naps don't count.”

“They do.”

Yelena smirked into her coffee. “I am staying out of this one.”

A comfortable silence settled over the booth until the waitress returned, balancing three large plates on her arms. “Blueberry pancakes.” She placed Wanda's breakfast in front of her. “Western omelet.”

Yelena thanked her before reaching for the hot sauce.

“And the country breakfast.” The enormous plate landed in front of Y/N, piled high with scrambled eggs, bacon, sausage, hash browns, toast, and pancakes.

“I'll be right back with the extra pancakes.”

Y/N nodded politely. “Thank you.”

A minute later, the waitress returned with another plate stacked with fluffy pancakes. “There you go, sweetheart.”

“Thank you.”

Yelena looked from the second plate to Y/N. “...You know, I always forget how much you eat.”

Y/N glanced down at the table. “…This isn't that much.”

Wanda laughed softly. “It really is.”

“It is?”

“Mhm.”

Y/N looked genuinely unconvinced before picking up her fork.

Breakfast began quietly. The only sounds were forks against plates, coffee cups settling back onto saucers, and the low murmur of conversations from the other customers.

Halfway through her pancakes, Wanda noticed Y/N had already finished nearly all of her eggs and bacon. She cut off a small piece of pancake, dipped it into the blueberries and syrup, then held the fork toward Y/N without thinking.

“Here.”

Y/N looked over before immediately leaning in to take the bite.

“Mm.”

Wanda smiled. “Good?”

Y/N swallowed. “Very.”

A few minutes later, Wanda did it again, this time with a piece of bacon. Y/N accepted it just as naturally. Yelena watched over the rim of her coffee before quietly shaking her head. “I knew this was going to start.”

Wanda looked over. “What?”

Yelena only roll her eyes and say “Nothing.” But the smile on her lips betrays her. 

Wanda roll her eyes back and reach for Y/N plate stealing one of the crispy bacon strips.

Y/N noticed immediately. “…You took my bacon.”

“I did.”

“You could've asked.”

“I knew you'd say yes.”

Y/N considered that for a moment before nodding. “…That's true.”

She simply took another strip from the untouched side plate she'd ordered.

By the time Yelena had finished her omelet, Y/N had already cleaned her first plate completely. Not a crumb remained.

The waitress happened to walk past just as Y/N pulled the second plate of pancakes closer.

“Oh, honey,” she said with an impressed smile. “I’ve never seen anybody eat that much!”

Y/N looked up. “I was hungry.”

“I can tell.”

The waitress laughed warmly before continuing on to another table.

Wanda watched with quiet amusement as Y/N finished the second stack of pancakes, then reached for the remaining bacon and eggs she'd ordered on the side.

“You really were hungry.”

“I slept well.”

“I've noticed.”

Within another few minutes, the second plate was just as clean as the first.

Yelena leaned back in her seat, looking at the two empty plates in front of Y/N. “…Where does it all go?”

Y/N looked down at herself. “I don't know.”

“The wolf,” Wanda answered with a smile.

Y/N nodded thoughtfully. “…Probably.”

Yelena couldn't help smiling. “I should've guessed.”

She picked up her coffee again, watching Wanda absentmindedly brush a smear of syrup from the corner of Y/N's mouth with her thumb before returning to her own breakfast as if she hadn't done anything unusual.

Yelena simply rolled her eyes toward the ceiling.

Still ridiculous.

But... she supposed there were worse things than watching two people who'd finally found a little happiness after everything they'd survived.

---

Soon they were back on the road.

This time, Yelena insisted on driving again.

“I've had enough of being trapped in the backseat watching you two flirt,” she'd declared before tossing Y/N the keys to lock the car instead.

So Y/N sat in the passenger seat while Wanda settled into the back. It wasn't ideal. Every now and then, Y/N glanced into the rearview mirror just to check on Wanda. Every time their eyes met, Wanda smiled, and Y/N couldn't help smiling back before returning her attention to the road ahead.

Yelena noticed every single exchange.

She chose not to comment.

The day passed much like the ones before it. Long highways. Small towns. Forests gave way to open farmland before disappearing behind more stretches of empty road.

Around noon they stopped at another roadside diner for lunch before continuing south. A few hours later, they pulled into a gas station to fill the tank.

While Yelena paid for the fuel, Y/N disappeared into the convenience store. She emerged several minutes later carrying two bags absolutely overflowing with snacks.

Yelena looked at them, then at Y/N. “…Planning for winter?”

Y/N peeked inside one of the bags. “I got hungry.”

“You haven't stopped eating.”

“The wolf burns a lot of calories.”

“So apparently.”

The snacks disappeared surprisingly quickly over the next few hours. By the time dusk settled over the countryside, only a few empty wrappers remained on the floorboard beneath Y/N's seat.

The sun finally disappeared below the horizon just as another faded neon sign came into view.

MOTEL

DINER

VACANCY

Yelena let out a relieved sigh. “Finally.”

She pulled into the parking lot and switched off the engine.

For a few seconds, nobody moved.

Then, almost in unison, all three doors opened.

Yelena climbed out first, stretching both arms over her head until her back cracked. “Oh...” She rolled one shoulder. “I think I've been sitting for ten years.”

Behind her, Wanda stepped out more carefully, immediately stretching her legs before letting out a quiet groan. “I never want to see another highway.”

“You'll see one tomorrow.”

“…Don't remind me.”

Y/N rounded the front of the car carrying all three duffel bags over one shoulder as if they weighed nothing.

“You can give me mine,” Wanda offered.

“I've got it.”

“I know you do.”

Still, Wanda slipped closer anyway, leaning lightly against Y/N's side. Without even looking, Y/N's free arm settled naturally around her waist.

It happened so automatically neither of them seemed aware of it. Yelena noticed. She simply shook her head with a small smile before leading the way toward the diner attached to the motel.

Warm air and the smell of grilled food greeted them the moment they stepped inside. The diner was small but cozy, with only a handful of occupied booths. Country music drifted softly from an old radio somewhere behind the counter while a waitress welcomed them with a tired but friendly smile.

“Evening, folks.”

“Evening,” Yelena answered.

“Booth okay?”

“Perfect.”

She led them toward the back of the diner.

Yelena slid into one side while Wanda and Y/N took the other. Wanda barely made it halfway across the booth before leaning against Y/N again. Y/N shifted closer without interrupting her reading of the menu, one arm remaining loosely around Wanda's waist beneath the table.

Yelena watched them for a second before looking back at her own menu. “…Road trips are exhausting.”

“They are,” Wanda agreed. “I cannot wait to lie down.”

“You've been saying that since lunch.”

“Because I meant it since lunch.”

Wanda laughed softly. “I think we've all reached our limit.”

Y/N nodded. “I could sleep for a day.”

Yelena looked over. “You? Sleep?”

“I do sleep.”

“Barely.”

The waitress returned with her notepad. “What can I get you?”

Yelena ordered first. “The chicken fried steak.” Wanda chose the grilled chicken with vegetables. Y/N studied the menu another moment. “I'll have the ribeye.”

The waitress nodded. “Okay...”

Y/N glanced down once more. “And!…another ribeye.”

The waitress smiled surprised. “Coming right up.”

Once she left, the three of them settled into the comfortable silence that only came after spending an entire week together. No one felt the need to fill every quiet moment anymore. Sometimes simply existing together was enough.

Their food arrived surprisingly quickly. The waitress carefully distributed the heavy plates across the table.

“Need anything else?”

“We're good,” Wanda said with a smile.

“Just holler.”

The smell of grilled steak immediately filled the booth. Y/N thanked the waitress before cutting into the first ribeye.

For several minutes, the only sounds were cutlery against plates and the quiet conversations drifting from the rest of the diner.

Halfway through her first steak, Y/N suddenly stopped chewing. Her fork froze halfway to the plate.

A second later, the bell above the diner's entrance jingled. Three men walked inside. They looked like ordinary travelers. Work boots. Baseball caps. Dust-covered jackets. One of them laughed at something another had said.

The waitress greeted them with the same warm smile she'd given everyone else.

“Evening, gentlemen.”

“Table for three.”

“Right this way.”

She led them deeper into the diner before seating them in a booth three rows behind Yelena's.

Close. Too close.

Y/N's breathing slowed almost imperceptibly. She inhaled once through her nose.

Then again. The scent hit her all at once.

Gun oil.

Cheap aftershave.

Hydra.

Her muscles locked. Wanda felt it immediately. Y/N didn't look at the men again. Instead, she slowly turned toward Wanda.

Golden eyes met green.

Hydra.

The single thought brushed against Wanda's mind like ice. Wanda's expression didn't change. She simply looked across the table. Yelena was finishing the last of her juice.

Their eyes met.

Wanda gave the smallest nod.

Yelena didn't ask a single question. “…Got it.”

She calmly reached into her jacket and pulled out several folded bills—enough to cover dinner and leave a generous tip. She tucked them beneath her empty glass without drawing attention.

None of them looked toward the three men again.

None of them needed to. Because if Y/N recognized that scent...Then they'd already stayed one minute too long.

Yelena didn't rush. That was the first thing Wanda noticed. No sudden movements. No panic. She simply folded her napkin, stood from the booth, and slipped on her jacket. “Ready?”

Y/N rose first, her eyes never once drifting toward the three men behind them. Wanda stood beside her.

The waitress happened to pass by just as they reached the register.

“Everything alright?” she asked warmly.

Yelena smiled with practiced ease. “Food was great.”

“I'm glad to hear that.”

She tucked the cash beneath the receipt holder. “Keep the change.”

“Thank you, sweetheart. Have a safe night.”

“You too.”

Nothing looked unusual. Nothing sounded unusual. Three tired travelers paying for dinner before checking into the motel.

Yelena pushed open the diner's door. Cold night air rushed over them. The parking lot stretched beneath buzzing neon lights.

Y/N immediately swept the area with one slow glance. Empty. Too empty.

“Car,” Yelena said quietly.

They didn't run. Running attracted attention. Instead, they walked briskly across the parking lot. Wanda climbed into the backseat, Y/N slid into the passenger seat, and Yelena was already starting the engine.

The SUV roared to life. She shifted into reverse. As they backed out of the parking space—The diner's front door burst open.

The three men stepped outside. One looked directly toward them. Another reached beneath his jacket.

“Go,” Y/N said.

Yelena didn't need to be told twice. The tires squealed across the asphalt as the SUV shot out of the motel parking lot and onto the highway.

For several seconds there was nothing.

Just darkness.

Headlights cutting through the empty road.

Y/N twisted in her seat, checking the passenger mirror. The motel was shrinking behind them. Then—Headlights.

Two vehicles exploded out of the motel entrance.

“They're coming,” Wanda said.

“I know,” Yelena answered calmly, pushing harder on the accelerator.

The engine growled.

Eighty. Ninety. One hundred.

The speedometer climbed relentlessly.

Behind them, the two SUVs matched every increase.

“They're gaining.”

“I see them.”

Yelena's knuckles whitened around the steering wheel. The road ahead curved sharply through dense forest. She took it without touching the brakes.

The tires screamed.

The SUV leaned dangerously before gripping the pavement again.

Behind them, the first pursuing vehicle drifted wide before recovering.

“They're trained,” Y/N said quietly.

“I noticed.”

Gunfire shattered the night.

CRACK!

The rear windshield exploded inward. Glass showered across the backseat. Wanda ducked instinctively. Another shot punched through the tailgate.

“They're shooting!”

“You think?” Yelena barked.

She swerved violently left. Then right.

Another volley cracked through the darkness.

Bullets skipped across the asphalt. One struck the rear bumper.

Y/N twisted farther around. “They're moving alongside.”

“I need them behind us.”

“They won't stay there.”

“I know.”

The second SUV suddenly pulled into the opposite lane, trying to overtake.

“Oh, no you don't.”

Yelena jerked the wheel left, forcing the pursuing vehicle back behind them just before an oncoming truck thundered past.

The truck's horn blared.

The Hydra driver barely avoided a head-on collision.

“Nice.”

“Thank you.”

More gunfire. A bullet punched through the passenger-side mirror, exploding it into fragments.

Y/N didn't even flinch. “They're trying to disable us.”

“They're about to become my problem.”

Yelena took another hard corner before shouting, “Switch!”

Without hesitation, Y/N unbuckled. Wanda immediately grabbed the steering wheel with her magic from the backseat, keeping the SUV straight just long enough.

Yelena climbed halfway across the center console while Y/N slid behind the wheel in one smooth motion.

The transition took barely three seconds. Y/N caught the wheel.

Yelena was already hanging halfway out the passenger window. Wind whipped violently through her blonde hair as she drew one of her pistols.

“Little closer!”

Y/N understood immediately. She eased off the accelerator just enough.

The pursuing SUV closed the gap.

Closer.

Closer.

Yelena steadied herself against the roof.

“Perfect.”

BANG!

The first shot shattered the enemy's windshield.

BANG!

The second struck the front tire, exploding it. Rubber shredded across the highway. The SUV jerked violently sideways. Its driver fought for control.

Didn't get it.

The vehicle spun twice before smashing through the guardrail and tumbling down the embankment.

Yelena climbed back inside. “One down.”

She looked into the side mirror.

“…Ah.”

“What?”

“More.”

Headlights appeared over the hill behind them.

Not one. Three.

Then another.

“Oh, come on.”

Yelena slammed a fresh magazine into her pistol.

“How many people did you make angry?”

“I don't know,” Wanda answered.

Y/N's jaw tightened. “They've been waiting.”

The first of the new SUVs closed rapidly.

Then another. Four vehicles now, spread across both lanes.

Yelena cursed under her breath. “This is getting ridiculous.”

The nearest SUV pulled alongside them.

Its passenger rolled down the window.

Gun raised.

“Wanda!”

Scarlet energy erupted from the backseat. The red glow flooded the SUV. The entire vehicle lifted off the road as though grabbed by an invisible giant.

The Hydra agents inside had just enough time to scream. Then—The SUV flipped, crashing onto its roof before skidding across the highway in a shower of sparks.

The second vehicle swerved to avoid the wreck.

Wanda caught that one too. With a sharp motion of her hand, it rolled violently into the ditch.

Silence.

For exactly one second.

Yelena stared into the mirror. “…You could've done that earlier.”

“I was trying not to draw attention!”

“Little late for that!”

Before Wanda could answer, Y/N's instincts screamed.

“Left!”

A black SUV burst from a side road hidden by the trees.

It had been waiting.

The vehicle accelerated straight toward them.

“No—!”

CRASH!

The impact slammed into the driver's side with bone-rattling force.

Metal screamed. Glass exploded. The entire SUV spun violently across the highway.

Rubber screamed against the asphalt.

The driver's side slammed into the guardrail with enough force to fold steel inward. Glass exploded across the cabin as every airbag deployed at once, filling the vehicle with white fabric and the smell of burning propellant.

Wanda's head whipped sideways.

Crack.

Her temple slammed against the edge of the window before she was thrown into the opposite side of the backseat.

White flashed across her vision. For a heartbeat, no one moved. Only the ticking of the ruined engine echoed through the night.

Yelena was the first to react. “This is not a good way to die. You two okay?”

Wanda pushed herself upright with a groan, one hand immediately flying to the side of her head. Her fingers came away streaked with blood. The world tilted violently before settling again.

“...I'm fine,” she managed, though her voice sounded distant even to herself.

Y/N looked over immediately. “You're bleeding.”

Wanda blinked several times, trying to clear the ringing from her ears. “Just... hit my head.” She pressed harder against the cut, ignoring the throbbing behind her eyes.

“I'm okay.”

Y/N wasn't convinced. The words had barely left Wanda's mouth when blinding headlights flooded the highway.

One SUV screeched sideways in front of them. Another blocked the road behind, doors bursting open. Hydra agents poured onto the asphalt with military precision, rifles already raised.

“There!” one shouted. “Move!”

Yelena kicked her door open before the first shot was fired.

Gunfire erupted.

Bullets ripped through the windshield as everyone scattered from the vehicle.

Yelena hit the ground in a combat roll. Her pistol barked twice before she was fully upright. Two Hydra rifles spun from their owners' hands.

She never stopped moving.

A third soldier rounded the hood of the SUV. Yelena met him with the butt of her pistol, smashing it across his nose before driving a knife beneath his arm. The man collapsed.

Another replaced him instantly.

Hydra had learned. They didn't attack one at a time. They moved in coordinated pairs. Suppressing fire. Flanking positions. Communication. But Y/N charged anyway.

A baton crackled with blue electricity as one soldier swung toward her head. She ducked beneath it, seized his forearm, and snapped it across her knee.

The scream barely escaped before another rifle stock crashed into her ribs from behind.

She didn't even turn. Her elbow shot backward into the man's throat. He folded instantly.

Another agent rushed from the left. Y/N caught him by the tactical vest and hurled him straight into the windshield of the lead SUV. Glass burst outward in a glittering explosion.

Across the road, scarlet energy exploded through the darkness.

Wanda caught three rifles at once, wrenching them from Hydra's grip before spinning them into the trees. An agent lunged at her with a combat knife.

She sidestepped. The blade missed by inches.

Her magic wrapped around his ankle, slamming him headfirst into the pavement. Another fired from behind. Before Wanda could turn—Yelena shot the rifle from his hands.

“I've got your back!”

“Thanks!”

For several brutal minutes, the highway became chaos.

Gunfire.

Magic.

Flying bodies.

Sparks.

Shattered glass.

Then—Silence.

Eight Hydra agents lay unconscious across the road. Yelena lowered her pistol. “...That felt too easy.”

Almost immediately, engines roared through the darkness. More headlights.

Three.

No...

Four.

Y/N looked up first. “They're not finished.”

Black SUVs surrounded them. Doors opened and more Hydra soldiers stepped out.

Then two figures emerged from the final vehicle. Neither carried a weapon. Neither looked concerned. Both were enormous. Broad enough to block the open door behind them. Dark tactical armor covered their bodies from neck to boots. Their expressions remained perfectly blank.

Y/N's heartbeat slowed. “...Enhanced.”

One of the men smiled. Not confidently.

Hungrily.

He disappeared. Not literally. Just impossibly fast. One instant he stood thirty feet away. The next—His fist crashed into Y/N's guard with enough force to create a shockwave.

The impact blasted her off her feet.

She flew backward through the air, smashing completely across the hood of a wrecked SUV before hitting the pavement hard enough to leave cracks in the asphalt.

She rolled twice, then forced herself upright.

The enhanced soldier hadn't moved. He simply waited.

Y/N wiped blood from the corner of her mouth.

“...Strong.”

“So are you.”

He smiled again.

Then attacked. The road beneath them exploded as they collided. Every punch sounded like a car crash. Y/N landed three clean strikes to his ribs.

He barely reacted. His knee slammed into her stomach. The air exploded from her lungs. A backhand sent her skidding twenty feet across broken pavement.

She'd never been hit that hard. Not since Hydra.

Across the highway, the second enhanced soldier crashed straight through Wanda's telekinetic barrier. It shattered like glass.

“What—”

Wanda instinctively reached out again, scarlet magic flaring around both hands. A sharp spike of pain exploded behind her eyes. Her vision doubled just for an instant the spell faltered.

It was enough.

The enhanced soldier burst through the half-formed barrier before it could solidify. He caught her wrist and twisted.

Pain shot up her arm. Wanda tried to throw him backward, but another wave of dizziness hit her. The ringing in her ears grew louder, making it harder to focus her magic.

Scarlet energy flickered wildly instead of striking cleanly.

His fist crashed into her ribs.

Wanda cried out as she slammed into the side of the ruined SUV, leaving a deep dent in the metal.

“Wanda!”

Y/N lunged toward her but the first enhanced intercepted. His shoulder drove into Y/N's chest. She hit the ground. Before she could rise—a boot slammed into her ribs.

The enhanced wasn't trying to beat her. He was keeping her away from Wanda.

Behind them, Yelena fought desperately to keep the remaining Hydra soldiers off both of them, firing, reloading, and switching to knives whenever someone got too close.

“We're getting circled!”

Wanda staggered upright, one hand braced against the SUV. Blood continued to trickle from the cut on her temple, dripping onto her collar. Every heartbeat made the pounding inside her skull worse. She shook her head once, trying to clear the haze.

It didn't help. The concussion slowed everything. Her thoughts. Her reactions.

Even her magic.

Normally, she would've stopped him before he got within arm's reach. Tonight...She was always a fraction of a second too late.

The enhanced soldier closed the distance again. He caught her by the throat. Lifted her completely off the ground.

Scarlet magic erupted around his arm, but Wanda struggled to maintain her concentration through the dizziness. The energy surged unevenly instead of crushing him outright.

He slammed her into the SUV again. The impact sent another burst of agony through her head.

Stars exploded across her vision. Blood ran freely down the side of her face.

He pulled back his fist. Y/N saw it.

Saw Wanda's unfocused eyes. Saw the blood. Saw her struggle to even keep her magic steady. Saw the fist descending.

Something ancient inside her shattered.

The growl that erupted from her chest didn't sound human. It shook the trees. Hydra agents froze. Even the enhanced soldiers hesitated. Bones cracked. Muscles expanded. Dark fur burst through skin.

Within seconds, a massive wolf stood where Y/N had been. Golden eyes burned with pure fury. The wolf didn't roar. She attacked.

She hit the enhanced soldier like a freight train. Massive jaws crushed his armored shoulder. Steel folded between her teeth.

He screamed.

The wolf flung him nearly forty feet. He crashed through the windshield of his own SUV before the entire vehicle rolled onto its side.

The second enhanced charged. The wolf met him head-on. Claws tore through reinforced armor. He punched her ribs hard enough to splinter nearby asphalt.

She answered by driving him into the highway with both forepaws. The pavement collapsed beneath them. He tried to stand but she didn't let him.

Claws.

Teeth.

Another slam.

Again.

Again.

Again.

She fought like an animal protecting its mate. Not a soldier. Not an Avenger.

A wolf.

Every strike became more vicious than the last.

Nearby, Wanda forced herself onto one knee, clutching her side.

“Y...Y/N...”

One Hydra soldier hadn't joined the fight. He'd gone back to the SUV.

Carefully...He unlocked a reinforced case. Inside rested a long silver weapon covered in Hydra markings and glowing blue conduits.

Yelena's stomach dropped. “...Wanda.”

Wanda looked up. The barrel was already charging. “No...”

The soldier smiled. He wasn't aiming at the wolf. He was aiming behind her.

At Wanda.

The wolf couldn't see him.

“Y/N!” Wanda screamed.

The wolf turned, saw the weapon, then Wanda.

There wasn't even a moment's hesitation. She leapt. The blue spear erupted from the launcher.

It struck the wolf square in the chest.

The weapon didn't explode. It punched through. Clean through. The force carried the wolf backward several feet before she hit the ground.

Silence.

The wolf remained standing for one impossible second. Blood poured from both sides of the wound. A broken whine escaped her throat. Then her legs gave out.

As she collapsed, the transformation unraveled.

Fur disappeared. Bones shifted. Claws became trembling fingers.

Y/N lay motionless on the shattered highway. A gaping hole tore through the center of her chest.

“Wanda...” Yelena's voice broke.

Wanda didn't answer. She couldn't.

The world had narrowed to one impossible sight.

Y/N.

Still.

Bleeding.

Not breathing.

Something inside Wanda broke beyond repair. Scarlet energy exploded from her body with a force that split the highway apart. The night turned crimson.

Cars lifted into the air. Hydra soldiers screamed as invisible hands seized every one of them simultaneously. The enhanced soldiers fought against it.

It didn't matter.

With a single, grief-filled scream, Wanda unleashed everything. The shockwave tore across the highway. Every Hydra vehicle crumpled like paper.

The launcher was ripped apart atom by atom. The enhanced soldiers were hurled hundreds of feet into the darkness. The remaining agents slammed unconscious into trees, concrete barriers, and overturned wreckage.

When the red light finally faded...Nothing moved. Nothing except Wanda.

She was already on her knees beside Y/N, her hands shaking as they reached for the wound that no healing magic in the world should have been able to fix.

“No…” Her voice barely existed.

Scarlet energy poured frantically from her palms, wrapping around the gaping wound in Y/N's chest.

“Come on…”

The magic trembled violently.

“Come on…”

It wasn't working.

Blood continued to seep between her glowing fingers, warm against her skin.

“No, no, no…”

“Wanda.” Yelena's voice sounded distant.

Wanda didn't hear her. She pressed both hands harder over the wound as though she could physically hold Y/N together.

“Please…”

Her magic searched desperately for something to mend.

Broken ribs.

Torn muscle.

Collapsed lung.

The hole through Y/N's chest.

Every spell unraveled the moment it reached the wound, as though something was consuming the magic itself.

“No…” Wanda whispered again, tears spilling freely now. “Please…”

Y/N didn't move.

Didn't breathe. Didn't even twitch.

The silence was unbearable.

Yelena knelt beside them, breathing heavily from the fight. She glanced over her shoulder, pistol still raised as she scanned the dark highway for movement.

Nothing. Only wrecked vehicles. Unconscious Hydra soldiers. Smoke rising into the night.

She looked back at Wanda.

“…Wanda.”

Nothing.

“Wanda.”

Still nothing.

Yelena reached out, carefully placing a hand on Wanda's shoulder.

The witch flinched violently.

“Don't touch me.”

“Wanda.”

“I'm fixing her.”

Her voice cracked.

“I'm fixing her.”

Yelena's heart sank.

Because Wanda wasn't speaking to her anymore. She was pleading with herself. With her magic. With the universe. Anything that might be listening.

Scarlet energy intensified until it illuminated the entire highway. Wanda gritted her teeth.

“You heal,” she whispered to Y/N, tears falling onto her face. “You always heal.”

Nothing.

“You heal.”

Nothing.

“You promised me…”

Another desperate wave of magic surged into the wound.

It vanished like pouring water into an endless abyss.

Wanda's breathing became ragged. “No…”

Yelena's expression tightened. Something about the weapon...It wasn't just a projectile. It had done something else.

She stood abruptly. “I'll find it.”

Wanda didn't answer.

Yelena hurried toward the shattered remains of the launcher scattered across the road. Pieces of silver alloy still glowed faintly blue.

She crouched beside the largest fragment.

Hydra markings. Unknown circuitry. Burned beyond recognition.

“Damn it…”

Nearby lay the soldier who had fired it. Still alive but barely conscious.

Yelena was beside him in an instant, grabbing him by the front of his tactical vest and dragging him upright.

“What was that weapon?”

The man laughed weakly. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth. “You... don't know…”

Yelena slammed him against the overturned SUV.

“What. Was. It.”

He smiled. “A... wolf killer.”

Yelena's blood ran cold.

“It stops…” He coughed violently. “…regeneration.”

“No.”

“It destroys…” Another cough. “The healing response…”

Yelena stared at him.

“No…”

The man laughed again. “…By morning…”

He never finished. His head rolled limply to one side.

Unconscious. Or dead.

Yelena didn't care.

She looked back toward Wanda.

Toward Y/N.

Toward the pool of blood slowly spreading across the broken highway.

“Wanda…”

The witch still hadn't moved. Her forehead rested against Y/N's.

“I'm here,” she whispered brokenly. “I'm right here.”

Another pulse of scarlet magic.

Another failure.

“You don't leave me.”

Silence.

“You hear me?”

Nothing.

“You don't get to leave me.”

Her shoulders shook with silent sobs. The blood on Y/N's chest refused to stop flowing.

Then—Almost too faint to hear...

A tiny hitch.

Not a breath.

Not quite.

More like...

A weak, wet gasp.

Wanda froze.

Her entire body went still.

“…Y/N?”

Another tiny sound escaped Y/N's lips. So faint it could have been imagined. But Wanda had heard it. Hope exploded through her chest so violently it almost hurt.

“Yelena!”

Yelena spun around immediately.

“What?”

“She's alive.”

Yelena was beside them in seconds. The two women held their breath. Several agonizing moments passed.

Then...

Another shallow, ragged breath.

Painfully weak. Barely enough to move Y/N's chest. But it was there.

Yelena let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding.

“She’s fighting.”

Wanda's tears fell freely as she gently cup Y/N's face with one hand while the other still pour her magic into Y/N chest.

“I know…” she whispered, her voice trembling with relief and terror all at once. “I know, my little wolf. Just keep fighting. I'm not letting you go. Not now. Not ever.”

---

Y/N's POV

Pain.

It was everywhere.

Not sharp. Not dull. Just... everywhere.

Every breath burned. Every heartbeat sent something warm spreading through her chest. She couldn't move. Couldn't open her eyes. Couldn't even tell if she was lying down or standing.

There was only darkness.

And voices.

"...Y/N..."

Wanda.

She knew that voice anywhere.

Soft. Shaking and crying.

Y/N tried to answer but nothing came out.

Her lips refused to move.

"...stay with me..." Another voice.

Further away.

"...we need to move, Wanda." Yelena.

"They'll send more."

"No."

Wanda's answer came immediately.

"I'm not leaving her."

"We're not leaving her."

A pause.

"We're taking her with us."

Y/N wanted to tell Wanda she was okay. Wanted to reassure her. But all she managed was a weak twitch of her fingers. Or maybe she imagined it.

Something warm squeezed her hand. Immediately.

Like Wanda had been holding it the entire time.

"I'm here," Wanda whispered, her voice breaking. "I'm right here."

Y/N tried to smile. She wasn't sure if she did. The darkness swallowed her again.

---

The next thing she knew...

Movement. Everything hurt. Every bump rattled through her body. The steady vibration beneath her told her she was in a vehicle.

The smell of gasoline.

Leather.

Blood.

The SUV.

Her eyelids felt impossibly heavy. She forced them open. Only a sliver. The world was nothing but blurred lights streaking past the window.

"...Slow down!" Wanda shouted.

"I'm trying!" Yelena yelled back.

"They're behind us!"

The SUV suddenly jerked hard around a corner. Y/N's body slid several inches across the backseat despite the hands desperately trying to keep her still. Pain exploded through her chest.

A broken groan escaped her lips.

"...Ngh..."

Her eyes rolled back before she could stop them.

"Shit!"

Wanda caught her immediately.

"What the hell, Yelena?"

"There was a truck!"

"I don't care!"

"I'd rather not die tonight!"

"You almost killed her!"

"I almost killed all of us!"

Y/N barely understood the words. Everything sounded underwater. She felt warm hands press gently—but firmly—against the wound in her chest.

They'd never left.

Wanda.

"I'm sorry," Wanda whispered immediately, her voice trembling. "I'm sorry, baby.”

Gentle fingers brushed damp hair away from Y/N's forehead.

"We're almost there." A kiss touched her temple. "Stay with me."

Y/N tried.

God...

She tried.

But the darkness pulled harder. Everything disappeared again.

---

Cold.

That was the first thing she noticed.

Then...

Sheets. A mattress. The faint smell of old wood, medicine and rain.

Y/N groaned quietly.

"...Mm..."

Her eyelids fluttered open. Everything was blurry. The ceiling swayed strangely above her.

Where...

Where was she?

She inhaled instinctively. Trying to find something familiar.

Wanda.

Usually Wanda's scent grounded her immediately. But all she could smell was antiseptic.

Dust.

Old furniture and her own blood.

Confusion settled heavily in her chest. She blinked several times. Nothing came into focus.

"...W..."

Her throat hurt. She slowly turned her head. Just find an empty room and no signs of Wanda.

Her heartbeat spiked instantly.

Panic.

She pushed herself upright. The movement sent unbearable pain through her chest.

"...Ah..."

Her vision blackened around the edges.

No.

No, where—

"Wanda..."

Her voice barely came out. She swung her legs over the side of the bed. The second her feet touched the floor…they gave out.

Y/N hit one knee hard against the wooden boards. Pain shot through her body but she didn't care.

"Wanda..."

She forced herself up using the bedside table. The room tilted violently. She stumbled into the wall.

Caught herself and kept moving.

Her hearing rang loudly. Somewhere nearby...

Voices.

Muffled.

Someone was talking. She couldn't make out the words. Only that people were there. She staggered toward the bedroom door, one hand pressed against the wall to keep herself upright.

Every step hurt. Every breath burned.

Her chest felt tightly wrapped beneath thick bandages.

She reached the hallway. The voices became clearer. Still distorted beneath the relentless ringing in her ears.

Another doorway. Light spilled through it. She stumbled toward it.

Almost there...She leaned against the frame—And froze.

Wanda.

Standing across the room talking to someone.

Yelena.

There was someone else too but Y/N didn't register who. All she saw was Wanda. Alive.

Before anyone could react—She lurched forward. Her legs completely gave out.

"Wanda..."

Wanda turned at the sound just in time to catch her.

Y/N practically collapsed into her arms.

"W-Whoa!"

Wanda wrapped both arms around her immediately before she hit the floor.

"Y/N!"

Y/N buried her face against Wanda's neck.

Frantically.

Desperately.

She inhaled over and over.

Finding her scent. Making sure it was real.

"You..." she whispered hoarsely, panic still evident in every word. "You're okay..."

Her nose brushed frantically along Wanda's neck, her shoulder, her hair.

Checking.

Confirming.

"You weren't..."

Another shaky breath.

"...hurt..."

Wanda's eyes immediately filled with tears.

"Oh, baby…”

Y/N clung tighter despite how badly it hurt.

"I couldn't..." Her breathing hitched. "I couldn't smell you..."

"I know."

"I thought..."

"I know."

Wanda carefully cradled the back of her head, tears already slipping down her cheeks.

"I'm okay."

Y/N pulled back just enough to look at her face.

Still blurry. Still doubled. She reached up with trembling fingers and cupped Wanda's cheek.

"...You're okay?"

"I'm okay."

"You promise?"

"I promise."

Only then did some of the panic leave Y/N's body. Her shoulders sagged. Relief washed through her.

"...Good..."

The single word was barely audible. Then her knees buckled again.

"Y/N!"

She completely went limp in Wanda's arms, unconscious once more before Wanda could finish calling her name.

---

Pain greeted Y/N before consciousness did. Not the unbearable agony from before.

This was different.

A deep, dull ache spread through her chest every time she breathed, as though every muscle had been torn apart and stitched back together.

She frowned.

The light behind her eyelids felt too bright. Slowly…she opened them. The room blurred for only a second before gradually sharpening into focus.

The ceiling was wooden.

Old beams.

Stone walls.

A fireplace crackled quietly somewhere nearby. Nothing spun this time. She squinted against the sunlight filtering through the curtains.

A gentle hand brushed through her hair.

“Easy…”

Wanda.

Y/N turned her head.

Wanda was sitting in a chair pulled right beside the bed. Dark circles rested beneath her eyes, and her hair was tied back messily. She looked like she hadn't slept properly in days.

Despite that…the moment their eyes met, Wanda smiled.

A shaky, relieved smile.

“Hi.”

Y/N's lips felt dry.

“…Hi.”

Her voice came out rough, almost unrecognizable.

Wanda immediately reached for the glass on the bedside table.

“Easy.”

She slid one arm carefully behind Y/N's shoulders, helping her sit just enough to drink. The cool water soothed her throat.

Y/N sighed softly.

“…Better?”

She nodded.

Wanda helped her lie back down before brushing another strand of hair from her forehead.

For several moments, neither of them spoke. They simply looked at each other. Making sure the other was really there.

Y/N was the first to break the silence.

“…How long?”

Wanda's smile faltered.

“You've been asleep...” She swallowed. “…Three days.”

Y/N blinked slowly. Three…days?

“I thought...” she whispered.

“I know.”

Wanda reached for her hand immediately, lacing their fingers together.

“We made it.”

“The safe house?”

Wanda nodded.

“We were only about forty minutes away.”

“What happened?”

For a moment, Wanda didn't answer. Her thumb continued tracing slow circles across the back of Y/N's hand.

“You passed out again in the SUV. We couldn't stop. They kept sending more patrols, so Yelena drove...” She let out a tired breath. “…Like a maniac.”

Despite everything, the corner of Y/N's mouth twitched.

“I believe that.”

“It wasn't funny.”

“I know.”

“We got here just before sunrise.”

Y/N listened quietly.

“The weapon...” Wanda's voice caught. “…It wasn't normal.” She looked down at their joined hands. “It went straight through your chest.” Her breathing became uneven.

“I tried healing you. I tried everything. Closing the wound. Stopping the bleeding. Repairing the damage.” Her voice broke. “…I couldn't.”

Tears welled in her eyes again.

“My magic just...” She shook her head helplessly. “It wouldn't work.”

Y/N squeezed her hand as much as her weakened body allowed.

“The man who fired it,” Wanda continued quietly, “Yelena found out it was designed specifically for enhanced people.”

Y/N frowned.

“It stopped your healing.”

The words hung heavily between them.

“For almost two days,” Wanda whispered, “nothing happened.”

“I thought...”She couldn't finish. Her lips trembled. “I thought I'd lost you.” A tear escaped despite her efforts to stop it.

“I kept checking your heartbeat.”

“Every few minutes.”

“I was terrified it would stop.”

Y/N's heart clenched. “Wanda...”

“The wound finally started closing yesterday.” Wanda laughed softly through her tears. “Just... a little. But it was enough.”

She looked down at Y/N's bandaged chest.

“Then this morning... your healing finally came back. The hole closed. The lung repaired itself. The ribs started knitting back together.”

She smiled through her tears.

“You're still healing…But you're healing.”

Y/N couldn't stand seeing her like this. She slowly tried to push herself up. But a sharp pain ripped through her chest.

“…Ah...”

She immediately collapsed back against the pillow with a pained groan.

“Hey.”

Wanda was beside her in an instant.

“Don't. You've got a hole that only mostly closed.”

Y/N winced.

“I just...” Another painful breath. “…Wanted...”

She reached up anyway. Her fingers brushed against Wanda's cheek.

“…Come here.”

Wanda didn't hesitate. She leaned forward immediately until their foreheads rested together. Y/N's thumb gently brushed away one of the tears still clinging to Wanda's face.

“I'm sorry...”

“No.”

Wanda shook her head immediately. “Don't apologize.”

“I scared you.”

“You almost died.”

“I'm still sorry.”

A watery laugh escaped Wanda.

“You really are impossible.”

“I know.”

They stayed like that for several quiet moments. Just breathing. Just existing.

Neither wanting to let go.

Then—A familiar voice spoke from the doorway.

“Well...”

The voice was hoarse. Warm. Carried the unmistakable hint of amusement.

“I leave you two alone for a month... and this is what happens?”

Both of them turned.

Standing in the doorway, one shoulder resting against the frame with her arms loosely crossed, was Natasha.

There were fresh bruises along her jaw. A bandage wrapped around one forearm and she looked tired but she was smiling.

A real smile.

Her green eyes landed on Y/N.

“They said you'd wake up today.” She pushed herself off the doorframe. “I was starting to think you were trying to sleep through my welcome home.”

Y/N stared at her for a long second.

Then...“…Nat.”

Natasha's smile softened.

“Hey, pup.”

The nickname alone was enough to make Y/N smile weakly.

Natasha let out a quiet breath, some of the tension finally leaving her shoulders.

Y/N looked between Natasha and Wanda. “…How?”

“We got here first,” Natasha explained, stepping farther into the room. “Steve, Bucky, and I reached this safe house two days before you three did.”

“…Then?”

“Yelena came crashing through the front door just before sunrise.” A smirk tugged at Natasha's lips. “Literally.”

Wanda sighed. “She almost drove through the fence.”

“I was in a hurry,” Yelena called from somewhere down the hallway.

Ignoring her, Natasha continued, “Yelena was covered in dirt. You were covered in blood.” Her gaze settled on Y/N. “…And you looked dead.”

The room fell silent.

“Wanda wouldn't let anyone touch you.”

Y/N looked at Wanda, who lowered her eyes to their joined hands. “I thought if I let go...” she whispered, “…you'd stop breathing.”

Y/N gently squeezed her hand.

“When none of us went back, after that mission…” Natasha continued, “Clint came to me immediately. Didn't tell anyone. Just left. Classic Clint. A few hours later, Sam showed up too, looking for Steve and Bucky. Fury had managed to reach him.”

“Fury?” Wanda asked.

Natasha nodded. “He knew something was wrong inside SHIELD but didn't know who he could trust. His orders were simple: find us, stay off the grid, and don't trust anyone claiming to be SHIELD until he says otherwise.”

“…So officially?” Y/N asked.

“We're all missing,” Natasha replied. “Fury listed every one of us as MIA. That buys him time to figure out who's compromised.”

“And while we stay hidden...” Y/N murmured.

“We figure out what Hydra is really planning,” Natasha finished. “And how deep this goes.”

A knock sounded against the already open door.

Yelena leaned against the frame with an apple in one hand. She looked at Y/N, took another bite, and said, “Oh. The corpse woke up.”

Natasha rolled her eyes. “There she is.”

“I was getting bored talking to Sleeping Beauty.”

Y/N huffed a quiet laugh. “…Hi.”

“Hi.”

Yelena wandered over to the bed and, for once, dropped the sarcasm. “…Thanks.”

Y/N blinked. “What for?”

“For jumping in front of that thing.” Her voice softened. “It wasn't just Wanda you protected. It would've hit both of us.”

Silence lingered before she shoved her free hand into her pocket. “…So... thanks.”

“I'd do it again,” Y/N said.

“I know.” Yelena sighed. “That's what worries me.”

Natasha clapped her hands once. “Alright. Mission briefing can wait. You've been unconscious for three days. Your only job right now is recovering. We'll catch you up later.”

Y/N nodded. “Okay.”

Natasha gave her shoulder a careful squeeze. “Come on, Yelena.”

Yelena took another bite of her apple. “Don't do anything dramatic while we're gone.”

Y/N looked genuinely confused. “I'm in bed.”

“Exactly.”

The sisters disappeared into the hallway, leaving only the crackling fireplace to fill the silence.

Y/N turned her head. “Wanda.”

“Hm?”

“Come here.”

Without a word, Wanda kicked off her shoes and carefully climbed onto the bed beside her, taking care not to jostle the bandages around Y/N's chest. The mattress dipped as Y/N slowly lifted an arm despite the pain and wrapped it around Wanda's waist, pulling her close.

Wanda melted against her, resting her head beneath Y/N's chin.

For a long moment, neither spoke. Y/N simply breathed her in.

“…Did you sleep?” she finally asked.

“I did.”

Y/N looked down at the dark circles beneath Wanda's eyes, her tangled hair, and wrinkled clothes.

“…Liar.”

“I slept.”

“You closed your eyes,” Y/N murmured. “That's different.”

Wanda said nothing.

“You stayed here.”

A small nod.

“The whole time?”

Another nod.

“You barely left.”

“…Only when Nat or Yelena made me.”

“Wanda...”

“I couldn't.” Her voice cracked. “What if you woke up and I wasn't here?”

Y/N's heart ached. She tightened her arm around Wanda despite the sharp protest from her ribs.

“Easy,” Wanda whispered.

Ignoring the pain, Y/N rested her cheek against Wanda's hair. “I'm awake now.”

“I know.”

“So now...” She kissed the top of Wanda's head. “…you need to sleep.”

“I'll sleep later.”

“No.”

Wanda looked up to find Y/N watching her with quiet determination.

“You took care of me. Now let me take care of you.”

Wanda smiled tiredly, cupping her cheek. “I'll let you... after you're recovered.”

Y/N opened her mouth. 

“No arguments.” Wanda glare softly.

“I wasn't—”

“You were about to.”

“…Maybe.”

“I've spent three days making sure you stayed alive. Now you stay in bed until you're healed.”

Y/N sighed dramatically. “I don't like staying in bed.”

“I know.”

“I feel useless.”

“I know.”

“I can walk.”

“You can barely sit up.”

“…That's temporary.”

“It is. Until then...” Wanda kissed the tip of her nose. “…you're listening to me.”

“…You're bossy.”

“I learned from Natasha.”

Y/N laughed, immediately wincing as pain flared through her chest.

Wanda rested a hand gently against her side. “See?”

“I'm fine.”

“Mhm.”

“I am.”

“You just proved my point.”

Y/N sighed and settled deeper into the pillows, still holding Wanda close.

“…Then sleep here.”

Wanda blinked. “Here?”

“With me.”

“You need space to heal.”

“I need you.”

Silence settled between them as the words lingered in the air. A faint blush colored Wanda's cheeks.

“…Okay.”

She carefully lay beside Y/N on top of the blankets, mindful of every bandage. The bed was small, but neither cared. Wanda rested her head lightly against Y/N's shoulder while Y/N held her just tightly enough to keep her close.

“There.”

“There,” Y/N echoed.

For the first time in days, Wanda's body finally relaxed. The tension eased from her shoulders, and the fear that had kept her awake every time Y/N's breathing changed slowly melted away.

Y/N buried her face in Wanda's hair. “…Sleep.”

“I will.”

“You promise?”

A soft smile spread across Wanda's face.

“I promise.”

Within minutes, her breathing became slow and even. Y/N smiled faintly. It had taken nearly being torn apart for Wanda to finally rest. She pressed one last kiss to the top of Wanda's head before closing her own eyes—not to sleep, but simply to listen to Wanda's heartbeat.

A sound she would never take for granted again.

⧗

Two months had already passed since everything.

Somehow, you and Natasha had fallen into a routine. Everything revolves around Aliah. School, homework, playdates, what she wanted for lunch, whether she was sleeping enough, whether she will sleep in mommy's or mama's. Natasha came by the apartment whenever she wanted and you did the same at the manor. There was no discussion about it anymore. No awkward asking for permission. If it had something to do with Aliah, the door was open. It was simple and easy.

At the same time, Natasha never let things become only about Aliah. Every single time she came over, she brought white tulips.

Every. Single. Time.

One bouquet for you and a smaller bunch for Aliah because your daughter had become obsessed with getting flowers too. At first, you thought was just a phase. But two months later, the flowers were still showing up. Natasha never made a big deal out of it. She'd just walk in, set them on the vase, and continue with whatever she came there to do.

Like it was the most natural thing in the world.

And then there were sundays. It became a habit to go to church. To light a candle and pray for the baby you lost—for your little angel. Time had passed, but not enough to make you forget. Maybe it never would. The grief wasn't as sharp anymore, but it was still there. A permanent part of you now.

Natasha wasn't religious. Everyone knew that. She'd probably be the first person to admit it. But every sunday, she was there beside you anyway. Sometimes she followed along. Sometimes she just sat quietly while you prayed and she held Aliah. She never complained or acted uncomfortable. She simply came because you did.

But somewhere along the way, Natasha had even started praying too—she wasn't really praying in the traditional sense. Most sundays, when she sat beside you and watched you bow your head, her own prayers felt more like conversations. Quiet thoughts directed toward someone she hoped could hear her—your little angel.

I hope you help mommy heal. Help her smile more. Help her carry this.

The requests were never really for herself at first. They were always for you. But eventually, Natasha started asking for something else too. Something selfish—something she never had the courage to ask you directly.

If you're listening, angel, help me make this right. Help me take care of her the way I should have. Help me show her that I'm trying. And if there's still room in her heart for me...help her give me a chance.

Natasha always felt ridiculous afterward. She wasn't sure if heaven worked that way. She wasn't even sure she believed enough to deserve an answer. But she kept doing it anyway. Week after week. Sitting beside you in church, talking to a child she loved and lost before she ever got to know them, hoping that somewhere your little angel could see how hard she was trying—not just to heal herself, but to find her way back to you.

She never asked if you had an answer for her yet. There were days she wanted nothing more than to sit you down and ask where she stood, whether you still loved her, whether there was still an "us" somewhere in the future. But every time the urge came, she swallowed it. She'd already hurt you enough. The last thing she wanted was to pressure you into giving an answer you weren't ready to give.

So she waited. And she will keep on waiting.

As long as you never brought up divorce—she's safe, she's fine. For Natasha, it meant everything.

It might not be comfortable or secure. Not stupid enough to think everything was fixed. She knew better than that. She knew there were wounds that she caused that still hadn't healed. She knew you still hadn't answered her. But if you weren't telling her to leave, if you weren't ending things, if you were still letting her sit beside you at church and walk through your apartment and help with Aliah, then Natasha could keep going.

She could be patient.

She could wait as long as it took.

Because after coming so close to losing you completely, uncertainty felt a lot less terrifying than goodbye.

The knock came at the same time it always did. When you opened the door, Natasha was standing there with white tulips in one hand and Aliah's favorite fruit snacks in the other.

Natasha held them out to you with a small smile. "Morning."

You took the flowers from her and stepped aside to let her in. "Morning," you replied quietly.

Two months had passed. Two whole months of Natasha showing up yet somehow, you still couldn't look at her properly. Not for long. Every time your eyes met, you found yourself looking away first.

"Where's Aliah?" she asks, though both of you already knew that. You nodded, clutching the tulips a little tighter.

"She's in the kitchen finishing her breakfast."

A small silence settled between you afterward. Comfortable enough not to hurt, awkward enough to notice. Two months later, neither of you knew exactly what you were anymore. But Natasha was still here, and you were still opening the door for her.

"Hey, maybe Aliah can stay with you later? If you can pick her up after school." You asked casually as you set the flowers on a vase.

It's monday today, you know her schedule and she's mostly free for the day. You knew which afternoons she disappeared for a few hours for therapy and which days usually left her quieter afterward. And without ever talking about it, you'd made it a habit not to bother her on those days.

Natasha looked up immediately. "Yeah, of course." Anything for you.

You nodded. "Thanks. I need to have the sink and bathroom fixed. Something's wrong with the water line, I think. The pressure keeps dropping and the bathroom faucet has been making weird noises for a week now."

Before you could say anything else, Natasha spoke.

"I can fix it."

The words left Natasha's mouth before her brain had a chance to catch up. You two meet eye to eye. Then the redhead mentally cursed herself.

Because no, she absolutely could not fix it.

"Are you sure?" you asked slowly.

And somehow, instead of admitting she had no business touching a water line, Natasha nodded. "Yeah."

The worst part was that she couldn't even explain why she'd said it. She was a multi-millionaire businesswoman. If something broke in one of her properties, she called someone and had it done in an hour or so—it would be fixed before she even noticed. Natasha Romanoff had many skills and plumbing was not one of them.

So now she stood there pretending she had even the slightest clue what she was doing while you continued looking at her suspiciously. But she held your gaze with all the confidence of someone who definitely did not know the difference between a wrench and whatever other plumbing tools existed.

Because honestly? If pretending she could fix a sink meant spending a few extra hours with you, she was willing to commit to the lie for at least another minute before reality inevitably caught up with her.

After dropping Aliah off at school, Natasha drove back to your apartment and parked outside. She had every intention of walking straight inside and confidently dealing with the plumbing situation she had volunteered for. Instead, ten minutes later, she was still sitting in the driver's seat with her phone propped against the steering wheel, watching a man on YouTube explain the difference between water supply lines and drain pipes.

Natasha stared at the screen with the same focus she'd once used to whenever she's in a meeting with the executives.

"Okay," the man said cheerfully. "First, you'll want to locate the shut-off valve."

Natasha paused the video. What the hell was a shut-off valve?

She opened another video. And another.

Twenty minutes later, she knew slightly more than she had before, which was to say not much. Then she felt it. That sensation at the back of her neck—the feeling of being watched.

Slowly, Natasha lowered her phone and looked around the area. There, she saw Wanda walking towards the apartment building.

Of course it was Wanda. That witch.

She'd been making Natasha's life difficult for two months now—not enough to be openly hostile, just enough to make sure Natasha never got comfortable.

Wanda called it accountability.

The grocery store incident alone should've qualified as a crime. You'd been sick one afternoon, and Wanda had casually mentioned that you were out of soup, medicine, and half the things in your kitchen. Natasha immediately drove out and bought everything.

One trip turned into three. Wanda would say after: wrong brand. Then again: forgot the eggs. Then again: actually we needed more than that, Y/N prefers the other kind. Natasha would come back from the grocery store, hands full, jaw tight, only to turn around and leave again because Wanda would insist it wasn't "that hard to get it right."

When she finally arrived at your apartment, exhausted and irritated, she opened the fridge.

Everything was already there.

Every single item.

Natasha had slowly turned her head toward Wanda, who had been standing in the kitchen the entire time.

Wanda just simply smiled. A smile that belonged in a horror movie.

The most exhausting part wasn’t even the errands themselves. It was the feeling that she was being watched while doing them—evaluated. Wanda would lean in the doorway, arms crossed, already waiting for Natasha's comeback—checking if she was frustrated, if she was slipping, if she was going to react.

And Natasha never did. She just stayed quiet, nodded, and went back out if she had to. Because every time she considered snapping back, she’d remember you were in the same house.

And she couldn’t risk making things worse between you two just because Wanda was making her life feel a little hard on purpose.

So whatever test Wanda had prepared for her today, she was going to need at least a basic understanding of plumbing.

Natasha's already back to your apartment and she had barely opened the cabinet under the sink when Wanda appeared beside her. She simply looked down at the toolbox, then at Natasha, and let out a long, unimpressed hum.

"That's brave."

Natasha ignored her.

"Or stupid. Honestly, I'm still deciding."

Still, Natasha said nothing.

Wanda leaned against the counter and took a sip of her coffee. "You really do this to yourself, don't you? Nobody told you to fix the sink. Nobody asked you to. Yet here you are, pretending you're a plumber." She looked down at Natasha. "Actually, pretending is generous. I don't even think you know what you're looking at."

Natasha tightened her grip on the wrench but kept working.

"Try not to destroy the plumbing," Wanda called over her shoulder as she walked away. "Y/N would be really stressed."

The comment shouldn't have hit as hard as it did, but Natasha immediately felt her stomach sink. Because that was the thing—anything that involved you made her worry. She'd spent the last two months trying to do the opposite—trying to make things easier, lighter, better. The last thing she wanted was to be the reason you had one more problem to deal with.

Staring at the maze of pipes beneath the sink, Natasha suddenly wondered if this had been a terrible idea from the start. Maybe she should've just paid for the plumber herself. Maybe she should've called three plumbers. Maybe she should've called an entire plumbing company. Unfortunately, she'd already committed to this.

A little while later, you came downstairs, slipping your phone into your pocket as you entered the kitchen. Your eyes immediately found Natasha.

"You're back," you said.

The effect was immediate. Natasha practically stood up from where she'd been crouched beside the sink.

"Yeah," she said, brushing her hands on her jeans. "Hi."

A small smile appeared on her face. You smiled back automatically.

It was awkward. The kind that felt suspiciously similar to two people trying very hard not to act like they were interested in each other.

Across the room, Wanda watched the entire exchange and rolled her eyes so hard it was a miracle she didn't injure herself.

"Oh my God," she muttered to herself. Then she grabs her bag before grabbing you. "Let's go."

You looked back at Natasha. "Uh, we're going to the market." Then you awkwardly added, "Do you want anything? Food or something?"

For a moment Natasha looked genuinely surprised you'd asked. Then a small smile tugged at her lips.

"Yogurt." Natasha bites her lip, "You know…the one before? The one we used to buy."

And immediately you knew exactly which one she meant. The cheap yogurt you practically lived on back in college. The one you'd shared while cramming for exams, surviving on three hours of sleep and bad decisions. You hadn't bought it in years.

"Oh." You nodded once, suddenly finding the floor very interesting. "Yeah. Okay, sure."

The moment the apartment door closed behind you and Wanda, Natasha let out a long sigh and looked around the suddenly quiet apartment. Well, this wasn't exactly how she'd pictured the day going. When she confidently said that she could fix the sink, she'd secretly imagined spending a few hours with you. Just being around you. Maybe talking while you cleaned or worked on something. Instead, you'd disappeared to the market with that witch, leaving Natasha alone with a toolbox and a plumbing problem she wasn't remotely qualified to solve. Still, she couldn't complain. At least she had the apartment to herself now. No one would judge her watching YouTube tutorials.

By the time you got back from the market, the first thing you noticed was that the sink was actually working. You stared at it for a moment before looking toward the kitchen. Natasha was standing there with a wrench in one hand, a smudge of dirt on her shirt, and what looked suspiciously like grease on her cheek. The sight alone was enough to surprise you. You'd known Natasha for since college and not once had you ever pictured her fixing anything around the house.

"Wow," you said honestly. "You actually fixed it."

Natasha immediately straightened up. The praise seemed to hit her harder than it should have. A faint blush appeared across her face, and suddenly the woman who had faced world-ending threats looked oddly nervous.

"Yeah..." she said, rubbing the back of her neck. "It's nothing." The blush only deepened.

"Here."

Natasha looked down. The yogurt. The exact one she'd asked for.

"Thanks." Natasha took it carefully. Then, after a brief hesitation, she looked up at you. "Do you...want to share?" The question came out quieter than she'd intended. Almost hopeful.

You shook your head. "No, I'm good."

Natasha nodded immediately. "Right. Okay."

She smiled anyway—a small one—the kind she'd gotten very good at over the last two months.

Because the truth was, it hurt a little.

Not because of the yogurt itself. Natasha could buy a thousand yogurts if she wanted to. It was what it represented. Back in college, you never even had to ask. One spoon, two spoons, it didn't matter. If one of you had food, the other automatically got some. It had been one of those small, thoughtless things that happened when two people were close.

Now Natasha found herself asking permission for things that used to be natural. And you had every right to say no.

She just couldn't help feeling the distance. The reminder that some things hadn't found their way back yet.

The yogurt wasn't the first time. There had been countless little moments over the past two months. Natasha would come over and you'd offer her food out of politeness.

"Have you eaten? I made pasta." But when you came back she only saw one plate in your hand—only for her—when she actually thought that you would sit down and eat with her.

Sometimes she'd arrive just as you were carrying groceries inside. She didn't need permission to ask, she just reached down to the plastic bags but you softly pulled it away from her.

"It's fine," you'd say before she could even get them. "I can carry them."

And then there were the days Natasha came over and never saw you at all. Aliah would throw the door open with excitement before dragging Natasha inside. Meanwhile, you'd stay upstairs.

Sometimes she'd ask, "Is your mom resting?" and Aliah would nod. "Mommy's in her room."

Natasha never pushed. She'd spend the afternoon helping with homework, playing, and listening to stories about school. Then she'd leave. There is an unspoken agreement between you both—Aliah came first. Natasha would show up for your daughter every single time and you'd never stop her.

But when it came to you, things were different. You were kind. You were never cruel. Yet there was still a careful distance that Natasha felt in every declined offer, every closed bedroom door, every quiet "I'm okay" that meant the conversation was over.

⧗

You texted Natasha asking if she could pick Aliah up from the apartment in the morning and take her to school. When she arrived, she noticed you were already dressed and ready to leave.

"You heading somewhere?" she asked casually while Aliah finished getting ready.

You hesitated for half a second before nodding. "Yeah. Just an appointment."

The answer wasn't rude, but it was brief enough that Natasha immediately understood it wasn't an invitation for more questions.

She almost asked what kind of appointment. If everything was okay or if you wanted company. But she didn't. So Natasha simply nodded and said, "Okay." Nothing more.

The appointment is actually a follow-up after your miscarriage. And the entire drive there, one thought kept circling in your head—you should have told Natasha. She had every reason to know. She would've come even if you didn't ask. She would've cleared her schedule without a second thought and sat beside you through the entire appointment. You knew that. That's what made it harder to explain why you hadn't told her. And now, sitting alone in the waiting room, you couldn't decide if keeping it to yourself had been easier or just lonelier.

After dropping Aliah off at school, Natasha stopped by a coffee shop before heading home. She wasn't expecting to see Pietro there. The encounter was completely random.

"Natasha?" he said, looking surprised. Natasha greeted him, and for a few minutes they made small talk.

Among the twins, Pietro had always been the kinder one toward Natasha. He still talked to her normally.

"How'd the appointment go?"

Natasha frowned. "What appointment?"

Immediately, Pietro's expression changed. Shit, he thought. He felt like he just said something he wasn't supposed to.

"She didn't tell you." Then Pietro sighed heavily and rubbed a hand over his lips.

Natasha felt something sink in her chest. Slowly, she shook her head. "No...what is it?"

Pietro looked away before answering quietly, "It's just a follow-up check-up in the clinic."

Just a follow-up check-up. That was the thing Natasha couldn't stop thinking about all day. Not the appointment itself or the fact that you'd gone alone. It was that you hadn't told her. She'd asked where you were going that morning and you'd given her an answer that was technically true but carefully incomplete.

By the time she picked Aliah up from school and headed to your apartment, a small part of Natasha wondered if maybe you'd bring it up yourself. She wasn't expecting some deep conversation. Just a simple, Hey, I came for a check-up today. It was okay. Something, anything. But when she arrived, you greeted her normally. Asked how the drive was, how Aliah's day had been, and the appointment never came up.

And Natasha didn't ask—she could have. The words sat right there on the tip of her tongue every time she looked at you. But she didn't push. She'd spent the last two months learning where the lines were, and she recognized this one immediately. If you wanted her to know, you would've told her. So Natasha swallowed the questions and kept the conversation on safer things instead even though it hurt her.

⧗

A couple of days later, Natasha called asking if the three of you can go out. But you let her know that you and Aliah were going to a friend's house for a birthday party that weekend.

"Do you need a ride?" There was a small pause before she added, trying to sound casual, "I can pick you up if you want."

Her plan of going out may not push through but she will still make a way to spend time with you.

You hesitated. But the memory of that appointment still lingered in the back of your mind. You've already hidden things from her. And maybe because of that, you found yourself saying something unexpected. "Yeah. Okay."

The silence on the other end lasted a second too long before Natasha answered, a little too quickly, "Yeah? Okay. I'll pick you up."

Monica's birthday party was louder than you'd expected. The backyard was filled with balloons, games, screaming children, and enough sugar to keep every kid awake for the next week. Aliah had disappeared almost immediately after arriving, running off with Monica and the other children without so much as a glance back.

Most of the afternoon, you stayed near the edge of everything. Sitting in a chair beneath a shaded patio umbrella, quietly watching the chaos unfold in front of you. Every now and then Aliah would run past, laughing so hard she could barely breathe before disappearing again.

A familiar figure dropped into the seat beside you, Carol. She followed your gaze toward the kids before nudging your shoulder lightly.

"I told you to follow me inside the house. You've been sitting here for an hour now."

You laughed softly. "Someone has to supervise."

"Half the neighborhood is supervising." Then she stood up and pointed her thumb toward the house. "Come on."

You looked at her suspiciously. Carol rolled her eyes.

"The adults are hiding in the kitchen."

"Hiding?"

"Drinking."

That earned a laugh from you.

"Come have one drink. I promise nobody's discussing politics."

With a reluctant shake of your head and a smile, you finally stood and followed her inside, she led you toward the kitchen and a chorus of greetings followed from her friends. You immediately got shy but smiled politely, and exchanged a few introductions. After that you immediately felt yourself gravitating toward the quieter side of the room. Carol noticed. With an amused shake of her head, she grabbed two glasses from the counter and guided you toward the farthest corner of the kitchen, away from the louder conversations.

"There," she said. "Now you can socialize from a safe distance."

A few moments later, she handed you a glass of wine. You stared at it for a second before hesitating. Carol immediately caught the look.

"Relax," she said, nudging the glass into your hand. "It's light. You're not going to wake up on someone's lawn tomorrow."

You laughed despite yourself. "Very reassuring."

"I'm serious. It's barely stronger than juice." Carol grinned.

You glanced down at the glass once more before finally accepting it. The first sip was cautious, but she was right. It wasn't heavy. Just enough to warm your throat without making you regret it.

What started as casual conversation somehow turned into the two of you being tucked away in the corner of the kitchen, talking about random things.

She watched you more than she meant to. When you took a sip of your drink. When you looked away like you were embarrassed by your own laugh. When you nodded along to her stories like you were actually interested instead of just being polite. And each time you laughed again Carol felt her cheeks warm a little, like her body was reacting before her brain could stop it. It annoyed her, honestly, how obvious it was becoming.

So she did what she always did when something felt too noticeable. She joked and teased you. She leaned into the role of the easygoing friend who just happened to enjoy your company a little too much.

But even as she spoke, she kept glancing at you when you weren't looking. It wasn't just that she liked being around you. It was that watching you be happy, even for a moment, made her want to keep you there.

"Y/N?"

"Yeah?"

Carol held your gaze for a second too long, the words she couldn't say pressing at the back of her tongue. Then she exhaled softly through her nose and forced it all back into place. Whatever was happening in her head didn't belong in the room with so many people.

I like you.

I want to kiss you.

Fuck, I want to have you.

The blonde had already stepped in closer without fully realizing it. The space between you had narrowed to something that didn't feel accidental anymore. Her gaze dropped briefly to your mouth, then back up again, slower this time, like she was weighing a decision she already knew she shouldn't make.

And then your phone rang.

The moment shattered instantly. Carol pulled back just a fraction too late. Your attention snapped away from her completely as you checked the screen, and the soft, immediate smile that appeared on your face made something tighten in her jaw.

"It's Natasha," you said. You answered without hesitation, stepping away not even realizing what Carol was about to do to you seconds ago.

When you came back, Carol was already back in place—composed, casual, drink in hand like nothing had happened at all. You told her Natasha would be picking you up soon. Carol nodded, forcing an easy smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.

"Sure," she said simply. But her jaw ticked once, subtle but sharp, as she took another sip of her drink.

The blonde walked you out of the house, the noise from the party fading behind you. She kept things light, like she always did, talking about small things as you walked side by side. You nodded along, still a little warm from the wine. When you reached the curb, Natasha's car was already there.

Natasha observed the way you and Carol were still talking for a moment longer than necessary, like there was no rush. You finally turned toward Natasha's car and smiled politely at Carol.

"Thanks for earlier," you said. "And—Aliah, okay? I will try to call later if I still can."

Carol nodded. "Got it. We'll take care of her."

Natasha didn't say anything. She just watched from where she stood, eyes following the ease between you and your friend. It wasn't loud or obvious, nothing anyone else would've questioned. But Natasha noticed everything. The way Carol stood closer to you and the way she touched you. The way it all looked…easy. Maybe it's just her mind again, but fuck it's making her crazy again.

The moment you got into Natasha's car, you immediately felt it—that quiet shift in you. Like you had to be more careful now. More aware. The last fight between the two of you flashed in the back of your mind, the one that somehow ended up about Carol. So you quickly said your goodbye to Carol outside, a little too fast and awkward, then got in and closed the door immediately.

The drive was silent at first. Natasha didn't do her usual thing of trying to fill it with small talk or random questions. She just drove, one hand on the wheel, eyes on the road. It felt…different. Heavy that you couldn't ignore. After a while, you gave in and spoke first.

"Have you eaten?" you asked, like you always did.

Natasha glanced at you for a second before shaking her head. "I'm not hungry." Then, after a beat, she added, "Are you drunk?" Her voice didn't soften this time. Her eyes stayed on the road.

You blinked, a little thrown off by how direct it sounded. "I…a little," you admitted after a pause. "I had wine."

Natasha nodded once, like she was noting it down in her mind rather than reacting emotionally. "Wine," she repeated quietly, almost to herself.

She tightened her jaw slightly, keeping her focus ahead. Because in her mind, it wasn't really about the alcohol. It was the fact that you could sit there, a little tipsy from someone else's company, laughing somewhere else earlier in the day…but when it came to her, even sharing a meal felt like something you kept declining. And Natasha didn't say it out loud, but the thought settled anyway, quiet and sharp.

The rest of the drive felt heavier than when it started. Neither of you said much after that. By the time the car finally slowed in front of your apartment building, it almost felt like you had both been holding your breath the entire way there.

You stood there for a second after getting out of the car, keys in your hand, the conversation still sitting heavy in your chest. The air between you felt unfinished.

Without really thinking it through, you looked back at her.

"Do you…want to come in?" you asked quietly.

"Sure."

Inside the apartment, the silence didn't get any easier. If anything, it felt tighter now that the door was closed behind both of you.

"You didn't tell me the party was at their place," Natasha said, her voice calm—but firm. "You didn't tell me Aliah was staying over there."

There was no anger in it, but there wasn't softness either—just clarity.

"Sorry," you said quietly. "There were some sudden changes to the plans." You glanced down for a second before looking back at her. "The party wasn't supposed to be there originally. And the sleepover thing happened today. Carol asked if Aliah wanted to stay with the other kids and she got excited about it."

Natasha just hummed and nodded once. Not wanting to talk about it anymore.

"I'll get you some water. You're drunk."

"Thank you but I'm fine."

The response came so automatically that you barely thought about it.

Natasha froze. Then she looked at you and let out a short laugh.

"I'm fine." She repeated sharply. "Of course."

The tone in her voice made you straighten slightly.

"No, seriously," she continued, shaking her head. "It's always like that with me. I'll help you carry something? No need. I'm fine. I'll drive you somewhere? You're fine. I'll ask if you need anything? Don't bother, I'm good." Her jaw clenched. "It's always like that. Every time I ask about anything, every single time, I get the same answer." She laughed bitterly. "It's fine."

You swallowed hard. The apartment felt unbearably quiet.

"But is it really? Y/N? Is it really fine? Are we really okay?" Natasha looked away for a second before looking back at you. "Because at some point it stops sounding like you're actually fine and starts sounding like you just don't want anything from me."