You sit at your desk near the window, fingers curled around the edge, eyes fixed on the trees outside.

It’s easier that way.

“Y/N?”

Your shoulders tense.

You know that voice.

Soft.

Careful.

Like it doesn’t want to scare you.

You turn your head just a little. Your teacher, Ms. Maximoff, is kneeling beside your desk now.

Her red hair falls forward slightly as she tilts her head, studying you with gentle concern.

“You’ve been awfully quiet today,” she says. “Is everything okay?”

You nod immediately.

Her expression doesn’t change much, but something in her eyes softens even more, like she doesn’t believe you, but she won’t push. Not yet, at least.

“That’s alright,” she murmurs. “If you ever want to talk about anything, I’m here.”

You look back at the window, not wanting to continue the conversation.

Wanda notices patterns. It’s something she’s always been good at. Like, small shifts, quiet changes, the things other people overlook.

It’s part of what makes her such a good teacher.

And you… You don’t fit.

Not in the way the other children do. You don’t laugh loudly. You don’t raise your hand. You flinch when someone moves too fast near you. You freeze when voices get too sharp.

And sometimes—this is what unsettles her the most—you look tired.

Not sleepy.

Tired.

That deep, bone-heavy kind of tired no child should carry.

She tries again a few days later.

“Y/N,” she says gently after class, when the other students have left.

You pause at the door, your small backpack hanging off one shoulder.

“Can you stay for a moment?”

You hesitate.

Then nod.

You step closer, but you don’t meet her eyes.

Wanda keeps her voice soft. “I just wanted to check in. I’ve noticed you’ve been a little… quiet lately.”

Silence.

Your fingers tighten around your sleeve.

“You know,” she continues, “sometimes when something is bothering us, it can help to talk about it. Even a little.”

You shake your head.

Still not looking at her.

“I’m okay,” you whisper.

The words sound practiced.

Rehearsed.

Wanda feels her chest tighten.

“Alright,” she says, just as gently. “You can go.”

You leave quickly.

Too quickly.

-///-

That night, Wanda doesn’t stop thinking about you.

Her wife, Natasha, notices.

She always does, too.

“You’re doing that thing again,” Natasha says from the kitchen, leaning against the counter with a mug in her hand.

Wanda looks up from the couch. “What thing?”

“The ‘I’m worried but trying not to say it out loud’ thing.”

Wanda exhales softly, rubbing her hands together. “There’s a student in my class.”

Natasha raises an eyebrow. “Only one?”

Wanda almost smiles, patting the seat next to her.

“She’s… different. Quiet. Withdrawn. But it’s more than that.” She hesitates, meeting Natasha’s eyes as she moves towards the couch. “She flinches. A lot. And she looks… exhausted.”

Natasha’s expression shifts instantly. Sharper now. Focused.

She sits down next to Wanda, knees touching her thigh as she tucks her legs underneath herself.

“How old?”

“Six.”

Natasha sets her mug down.

“Has she said anything?”

Wanda shakes her head. “Every time I ask, she shuts down. It’s like she’s… afraid of saying the wrong thing.”

That’s what does it.

Natasha straightens slightly, something cold and precise settling behind her eyes.

“Tomorrow,” she says, “I’m coming with you.”

Wanda blinks. “Nat—”

"Wands, I work in children's welfare. What you said is reason enough for me to look into it,” Natasha says calmly. “And if something’s wrong…” She trails off, but she doesn’t need to finish.

Wanda nods.

She trusts her.

Always has.

-///-

The next day, you notice her immediately.

She doesn’t belong in a classroom.

Not like Ms. Maximoff does.

This woman is… different.

She stands near the doorway at first, speaking quietly with your teacher.

She’s dressed simply, but there’s something about the way she holds herself, straight, alert, like she’s always watching.

Her eyes scan the room.

And then they land on you.

You look away quickly.

But it’s too late.

She’s already noticed.

Natasha takes her time.

She doesn’t approach you right away.

Instead, she observes.

The way you sit too stiff in your chair. The way your gaze flickers toward the door every few minutes. The way you hesitate before answering even the simplest question.

And then—

A boy runs past your desk too fast, and a chair scrapes loudly.

You flinch.

Not a small reaction.

Not subtle.

A full-body recoil, like you were expecting something worse.

Natasha’s jaw tightens.

Yeah.

Something’s wrong.

Later, during lunch break, Wanda sits beside you on the bench.

Natasha lingers a few steps away, pretending to check something on her phone.

“You remember my wife, Ms. Romanoff?” Wanda asks gently.

You nod.

“She works with children, too,” Wanda continues. “She just wants to make sure everyone is safe and happy.”

Safe.

The word makes your stomach twist.

Natasha steps closer, crouching down so she’s at your level.

Her voice is calm and steady.

“Hi, Y/N. I’m Natasha.”

You don’t answer.

“You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to.”

You glance at her.

Just for a second.

Her eyes are different from everyone else’s.

They’re not soft like Wanda’s.

But they’re not harsh either.

They’re… certain.

As if she already knows something.

“Can I ask you something?” she says.

You hesitate.

Then shrug slightly.

It’s not quite a yes.

But it’s not a no.

Natasha nods once, like that’s enough.

“Do you feel safe at home?”

Your heart stops.

The world goes very, very quiet.

You stare at the ground.

You don’t respond.

You can’t.

Because if you say the wrong thing—

If you say anything—

Your fingers curl tightly into your sleeves.

Natasha watches the silence stretch.

The way your shoulders tense.

The way your breathing changes.

And that’s all she needs.

She doesn’t ask again.

Instead, her voice softens—just slightly.

“You’re not in trouble,” she says. “And whatever is going on… it’s not your fault.”

Your throat tightens.

You blink hard.

Still, you say nothing.

But Natasha doesn’t push.

She stands slowly, exchanging a look with Wanda.

A silent understanding passes between them.

This isn’t nothing.

This is something.

And they’re not going to ignore it.

-///-

That afternoon, as you sit by the window again, the classroom feels a little different.

Not louder.

Not quieter.

Just… different.

Because now, someone has seen you.

Even if you didn’t say a word.

And for the first time in a long while, you’re not completely invisible anymore.

The man introduces himself as Steve.

He doesn’t stand over you like most adults do when they want something. Instead, he pulls a chair out slowly and turns it so he’s sitting across from you—not too close, not too far.

Just enough that you know he’s there, but not enough to make you feel trapped.

“Hi,” he says, offering a small, careful smile. “I’m Steve.”

You don’t answer.

You keep your eyes on the desk, tracing a faint scratch in the wood with your fingertip. You’ve already counted it before—three fingers long, slightly curved—but counting it again feels easier than looking up.

“That’s okay,” Steve says gently, like he expected the silence. “You don’t have to say anything right away.”

The room is quiet. Too quiet.

Outside the classroom, you can hear the distant noise of other students—chairs moving, someone laughing, a teacher calling out instructions. It feels far away. Like it belongs to a different world.

“I heard you like sitting by the window,” Steve continues after a moment.

Your finger stills.

He notices things.

You don’t like that.

“It’s a good spot,” he adds. “Lots of light. And you can see outside.”

You don’t respond.

But you don’t move away either.

Steve shifts slightly in his chair, resting his forearms on his knees. He doesn’t take out a notebook. Doesn’t write anything down.

He just… sits.

“I work with kids sometimes,” he says. “Mostly I just make sure they’re okay.”

Okay.

You swallow.

“I talk to teachers. Sometimes parents. Sometimes kids, if they want to.” He pauses. “But only if they want to.”

Silence stretches again.

Your shoulders feel tight.

Your chest feels tight.

“Do you feel safe at home?”

There it is.

The question.

It drops into the room like something heavy.

Your heart starts beating faster. You can feel it in your throat, in your ears, and in your fingertips.

You nod.

Too fast.

Too automatic.

Steve doesn’t react right away.

He just watches you.

Not in a scary way.

Not like he’s angry.

But like he’s… thinking.

Like he’s trying to understand something you didn’t say.

“Okay,” he says finally.

That’s it.

No follow-up.

No pressure.

But somehow that makes it worse.

-///-

He comes to your house two days later.

You know it’s him before anyone says his name.

There’s something about the knock, firm but not aggressive.

Steady.

Your stomach twists so hard it almost hurts.

“Stay in your room,” your parent says sharply, already moving toward the door.

You don’t argue.

You never argue.

You close your door quietly and sit on the floor, your back pressed against the side of your bed. It feels safer down here. Smaller. Like, if you make yourself small enough, you won’t be noticed.

Voices drift through the house.

Muffled at first.

Then clearer.

“…just a routine check…”

“…she’s a quiet child…”

“…always been sensitive…”

You pull your knees to your chest and wrap your arms around them, pressing your face down.

You try to make yourself even smaller.

“…we would never…”

“…of course, we understand your concern…”

Their voices sound normal.

You know that tone.

You’ve heard it before.

It’s the voice they use for other people.

Not for you.

You squeeze your eyes shut.

If you don’t move, if you don’t make a sound, maybe he won’t come up here.

Maybe he’ll just leave.

Maybe everything will stay the same.

You don’t know if that’s what you want.

But it’s what you’re used to.

After a while, the voices fade.

The door opens.

Closes.

Footsteps.

Silence.

He’s gone.

Nothing changes.

At first.

Then everything does.

You don’t go to school the next day.

Or the day after that.

At first, you think you’re sick without knowing you were.

Or maybe in trouble.

You don’t ask.

You’ve learned not to ask.

“There’s no need,” your parent says when you linger near the door on the third morning, your backpack hanging loosely from your shoulder. “You’ll stay home for a while.”

“For how long?” you whisper.

They look at you.

Just look.

Your throat closes.

“…okay,” you say quickly.

Your backpack stays by the door.

You go back to your room.

-///-

Days blur together.

You lose track of time.

Morning feels like evening. Evening feels like nothing.

The window doesn’t help anymore.

You stop looking outside.

There’s no point.

No one is coming.

-///-

Wanda notices on the first day.

The empty chair.

Your chair.

She pauses in the middle of attendance, her eyes lingering just a second longer than they should.

“Y/N?” she calls out automatically.

Silence answers.

A student shifts in their seat.

“She’s not here,” someone says.

Wanda nods slowly, marking it down.

Absent.

It happens.

Kids get sick.

But something about it doesn’t sit right.

On the second day, she asks the office.

“No call or note,” they tell her.

Her concern sharpens.

On the third day, she calls.

No answer.

By the fourth day, she’s pacing.

“You’re wearing a path into the floor,” Natasha says from the kitchen, watching her with quiet focus.

Wanda doesn’t stop. “She hasn’t been in school all week.”

Natasha sets her mug down. “Did the office hear anything?”

“No. No call. No email. Nothing.” Wanda runs a hand through her hair, frustration and worry tangled together. “That’s not normal.”

“No,” Natasha agrees. “It’s not.”

Wanda turns to her. “What if something happened?”

Natasha doesn’t answer right away.

Because they’re both thinking the same thing.

“What if we missed something?” Wanda whispers.

Natasha’s gaze softens slightly. “You didn’t miss anything.”

“But she wouldn’t talk to me,” Wanda says, her voice tightening. “She wouldn’t talk to Steve either, and now she’s just—gone.”

Natasha straightens. “Then we go find her.”

Wanda blinks. “Nat—”

“I mean it,” Natasha says. “This doesn’t feel right. Not after what we saw.”

Wanda hesitates.

Then nods.

“I’m going there,” she says.

Natasha doesn’t argue.

“I’m coming with you.”

The house looks normal.

That’s the first thing Wanda notices, and it makes something deep in her chest twist uncomfortably.

The curtains are neat. The garden is trimmed. The front step is clean.

Everything looks… fine.

Too fine.

“She lives here,” Wanda says quietly.

Natasha stands beside her, eyes already scanning windows, corners, and small details most people would miss.

“Okay,” she replies.

Wanda steps forward and knocks.

The sound echoes too loudly in the still air.

They wait.

Nothing.

Wanda knocks again, harder this time. “Y/N? It’s Ms. Maximoff.”

Silence.

It presses in from all sides, heavy and wrong.

Natasha’s gaze flicks upward. “Second floor. Curtain moved.”

Wanda’s heart stutters. “She’s here.”

“Yeah,” Natasha says, already moving. “She is.”

The door is locked.

Of course it is.

Wanda’s hands are shaking now, panic rising fast and sharp. “Nat—”

“We saw movement,” Natasha says, calm but firm. “We’re not leaving.”

That’s all it takes.

Upstairs, you freeze.

You didn’t mean to make a sound.

You were trying to be quiet.

You’re always quiet.

But when you heard her voice—

When you heard your name—

Something slipped.

Now your heart is pounding so loud it feels like it might give you away.

They’re here.

They came.

You press your hand over your mouth, trying to silence your breathing.

Maybe if you stay still—

Maybe if you don’t move—

They’ll leave.

Like everyone always does.

The door downstairs opens.

Footsteps.

Voices.

Your stomach drops.

They didn’t leave.

Wanda barely registers how they get inside. The house feels too still, too empty in a way that doesn’t make sense.

“Y/N?” she calls, stepping forward.

No answer.

Natasha moves ahead of her slightly. “Upstairs.”

They climb quickly.

Each step creaks.

Wanda winces at the sound, like she’s afraid it might scare you.

At the top of the stairs—three doors.

Two open quickly.

Empty.

The third stays closed.

Wanda’s chest tightens. “This one.”

Her hand trembles on the handle.

“Wanda,” Natasha says quietly behind her.

Wanda pauses.

“Whatever’s on the other side,” Natasha adds, “we handle it together.”

Wanda nods.

Then she opens the door; the room is dim.

Curtains drawn tight.

Air stale.

And there in the corner.

You.

Small.

Curled in on yourself like you’re trying to disappear.

Wanda’s breath catches.

“Y/N…”

You don’t move at first.

Then slowly, your head lifts.

Your eyes find hers.

And something in her chest breaks instantly.

“Hey, sweetheart,” she says softly, stepping closer. “It’s okay. It’s me.”

You flinch.

Even at her voice.

Natasha steps in behind her, taking in everything in one sharp glance—the room, the stillness, you.

Her jaw tightens.

But when she speaks, her voice is gentle.

“Hi, Y/N.”

Your lips part.

“I didn’t say anything,” you blurt out suddenly, panic cracking through your voice. “I didn’t tell him anything, I promise, I didn’t—”

Wanda drops to her knees in front of you. “Oh, honey—”

“I didn’t—” Your voice shakes harder. “I didn’t say anything—”

“Hey,” Natasha says, crouching down in front of you. “You’re okay.”

“I didn’t tell—”

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” she says, firm and steady.

You freeze.

Your breathing stutters.

“I promise,” she adds, softer now.

Wanda’s hand settles carefully against your arm.

“You haven’t been at school,” she says gently. “We were worried.”

“I’m not supposed to go,” you whisper.

The words are small.

Fragile.

But they hit like something heavy.

Natasha’s expression sharpens slightly. “Who told you that?”

You shake your head quickly. “I just—I’m not—I don’t—”

The words won’t come.

Your chest feels too tight.

Everything feels too big.

And then—

The front door downstairs opens.

The sound is loud.

Final.

Your entire body goes rigid.

You try to pull away instantly, panic flooding through you.

“They’re back,” you whisper, your voice breaking. “They’re back—”

Footsteps.

Voices.

Getting closer.

“No, no—” you start, trying to move, trying to make yourself small again, trying to get away—

Natasha doesn’t let you.

Her hand steadies you immediately.

“Hey,” she says, low and firm. “Stay with me.”

You shake your head frantically. “I can’t—”

“You can,” she says.

And then she shifts.

Just slightly.

But enough.

Enough that she’s between you and the door.

Solid.

Unmovable.

Wanda moves closer to your other side, one hand on your back, grounding.

“You’re okay,” she murmurs. “We’re right here.”

The footsteps reach the stairs.

Each step is louder than the last.

Your hands are tight in Natasha’s shirt.

You can’t breathe.

The hallway creaks.

Then—

The doorway fills.

“What is going on?”

The voice is sharp.

Demanding.

Wrong.

You flinch hard.

Instinct.

Natasha notices.

Of course she does.

She rises slowly to her full height, placing herself fully between you and them.

Her posture is calm.

Controlled.

But there’s something underneath it.

Something dangerous.

“We came to check on Y/N,” she says evenly.

“You can’t just break into our house,” your parent snaps, stepping forward.

Natasha doesn’t move.

Doesn’t give an inch.

“You left a minor alone,” she replies, voice still calm—but colder now. “No school. No contact. No supervision.”

“That’s none of your business—”

“It is now.”

The words land hard.

Final.

Wanda feels you shaking beside her. She pulls you gently closer, one arm wrapping around you protectively.

“It’s okay,” she whispers. “You’re okay.”

“I didn’t say anything,” you whisper again, clinging tighter. “I didn’t tell—”

Wanda’s heart cracks all over again. “I know, sweetheart. I know.”

“Don’t talk to her,” your parent says sharply.

You flinch.

Natasha sees it.

And that’s it.

Something in her expression settles completely.

Decision made.

“She’s coming with us,” Natasha says.

“No, she’s not.”

Natasha steps slightly forward.

Just enough.

“You can argue that with child services,” she says, voice low and controlled. “But right now? She’s not staying here.”

There’s a beat of silence.

Tense.

Heavy.

Your parent hesitates.

And that hesitation is everything.

Natasha turns slightly, her voice softening instantly when she looks back at you.

“Hey,” she says gently. “Come on.”

You don’t hesitate.

You move straight into her, clinging tightly, your fingers gripping her shirt like it’s the only solid thing in the world.

“I’ve got you,” she murmurs.

Wanda stays close, her hand never leaving your back.

“You’re safe,” she whispers again.

And this time—

You believe her.

-///-

The car ride is quiet.

You sit in the back at first.

For all of thirty seconds.

Then—

“No.”

Your voice is small.

Panicked.

“I don’t—I don’t want to sit back here—”

Wanda turns immediately. “Okay. That’s okay.”

Natasha has already pulled the car over.

“Come here,” Wanda says softly, opening the door.

You move quickly, climbing out and into the front, into her side, before you even realize what you’re doing.

You cling to her.

Hard.

Your face pressed into her shoulder.

Your hands gripping her sleeve.

She wraps both arms around you instantly.

“I’ve got you,” she murmurs, pressing her cheek gently against your hair.

Natasha glances over.

Something in her gaze softens.

Then she starts driving again.

Slow.

Careful.

Like she’s carrying something fragile.

Like she knows she is.

-///-

Their home is warm.

That’s the first thing you notice.

Not just the temperature.

The feeling.

It’s quiet—but not empty. Soft—but not suffocating.

Wanda guides you inside, her hand never leaving you.

“You’re okay,” she murmurs again.

Natasha locks the door behind you, quick and automatic. Then she looks at you.

Really looks.

Her gaze lingers, taking in your face, your hands, and the way you’re standing.

“Hey,” she says gently, crouching slightly so she’s closer to your level. “When was the last time you ate?”

You blink at her.

You don’t know.

Or maybe you do.

But it feels too far away to explain.

Your shoulders lift in a small shrug.

That’s enough.

Natasha glances at Wanda.

Wanda’s expression softens immediately. “Okay. Food first.”

You sit at the kitchen table, feet dangling slightly above the floor.

The chair feels too big.

Everything does.

But the kitchen smells warm.

Safe.

Natasha sets a plate down in front of you.

Dinosaur-shaped chicken nuggets.

You stare at them.

Really stare.

“Don’t worry, it’s chicken, not dinosaur,” Wanda says softly, a small smile tugging at her lips as she folds laundry at the end of the table.

Your eyes flick up to her.

Then back to the plate.

“Mm,” Natasha hums, settling into the chair beside you. “You say that, but you also insisted heart-shaped pasta tastes better.”

Wanda glances at her. “It does taste better.”

“It’s the same pasta.”

“It’s not the same experience.”

Natasha huffs quietly, something almost like a smile pulling at the corner of her mouth. “Right. Of course.”

You let out a small sound before you can stop it.

A soft, surprised giggle.

Your hand flies to your mouth immediately, like you need to hide it.

But it’s already there.

They both look at you.

Not sharply.

Not suddenly.

Just… gently.

Wanda’s smile softens.

Natasha’s expression shifts—something warmer, quieter.

Neither of them makes a big deal out of it.

They just… let it exist.

And then Wanda goes back to folding.

Natasha stays beside you.

Like nothing’s changed.

Like everything has.

Your hand moves slowly toward the plate.

Careful.

Uncertain.

You pick one up.

Take a bite.

You try to go slow at first.

You really do.

But your hands move faster than you mean them to.

Bite after bite.

Like if you don’t eat it now, it might disappear.

Natasha doesn’t interrupt.

Doesn’t reach in.

Doesn’t tell you to slow down.

She just shifts slightly closer.

Grounding.

Present.

Wanda notices next.

Her hands still for just a second before she quietly reaches for a napkin, placing it within your reach without a word.

No pressure.

No attention drawn.

Just… there.

“Hey,” Natasha murmurs after a moment, her voice low and steady. “It’s okay.”

You freeze for a second.

Still chewing.

“There’s more,” she adds gently. “You don’t have to rush.”

You nod quickly.

A little too quickly.

She doesn’t comment.

Just stands, moving back to the counter.

There’s a quiet clink of a plate.

The soft sound of more food being set down.

No hesitation.

No questions.

When she sets it beside you, her hand lingers for half a second near your shoulder.

Not touching.

Just close.

“I’ve got you,” she says quietly.

Something in your chest tightens.

But it’s not sharp.

Not like before.

Wanda glances up at Natasha, then at you.

And there’s something unspoken in the look she gives her.

Something soft.

Something certain.

Wanda steps closer, brushing lightly past Natasha as she moves.

Her hand rests briefly against Natasha’s side—familiar, absent-minded.

“You’re hovering,” she murmurs.

Natasha exhales softly. “I’m not hovering.”

“You are a little,” Wanda says, but not unkindly.

A pause.

“…it’s okay, though,” she adds quietly.

Natasha doesn’t answer.

But she stays right where she is.

Close.

And you keep eating.

Slower now.

Because for the first time—

You believe it won’t be taken away.

It’s only after you’ve finished eating that Natasha notices.

The smudge of something on your cheek.

The dirt still caught under your nails.

The way your sleeves hang stiff.

Natasha moves to look at Wanda, only to find Wanda already watching her.

“Okay,” Wanda says gently, stepping closer. “How about we get you cleaned up a little?”

You hesitate.

Just a second.

Then nod.

-///-

The bathroom fills with steam.

Warm.

Soft.

You sit in the tub, water wrapping around you, and for a moment you just… stay still.

Let it happen.

Wanda kneels nearby, her voice soft and steady as she talks about nothing—about school, about flowers, about things that don’t hurt.

Natasha moves quietly in and out, grabbing what she needs.

Towel.

Cream.

At one point, she pauses, watching you for a second.

Making sure you’re okay.

You glance at her.

She gives you a small smile.

It stays.

After, everything feels… lighter.

Not fixed.

But softer.

You stand in the bathroom, wrapped in a towel, while Wanda gently helps you into one of Natasha’s shirts.

It’s huge.

It swallows your form.

You glance down at yourself, unsure.

Wanda smiles. “Looks perfect.”

“Alright,” Natasha says, leaning lightly against the counter. “Come here a second.”

You step closer.

She holds up a toothbrush.

You hesitate.

Then step closer anyway.

“Open,” she says gently.

You do.

And then—

She starts brushing your teeth.

Carefully.

Slowly.

And—unexpectedly—

She starts humming.

Then quietly singing.

“Brush, brush, make them shine, Top and bottom, take your time…”

Your eyes widen slightly.

You weren’t expecting that.

“…little circles, nice and neat— Gotta take good care of teeth.”

A small sound escapes you before you can stop it.

A giggle.

It surprises you.

It surprises her too because she pauses for half a second, then—she smiles.

Really smiles.

Soft. Warm. A little amused.

“There it is,” she murmurs. “Knew you had more of those.”

Your face feels warm.

But not in a bad way.

-///-

Afterwards, stand awkwardly in the hallway.

“There’s a room you can use,” Wanda says gently, opening a door.

You look inside.

The bed.

The space.

The quiet.

Your chest tightens.

Too quiet.

Too alone.

You take a small step back.

“I—”

Your voice shakes.

“I don’t want to be by myself.”

The words come out barely above a whisper.

But they’re clear.

Wanda doesn’t hesitate.

“Okay,” she says immediately.

Natasha nods once. “That’s okay.”

They don’t question it.

Don’t push.

Just… accept it.

-///-

You find yourself in their bed, full and clean.

Your legs are tucked under you while you absently play with the wedding ring on Natasha’s finger as she sits beside you.

You twist it gently, careful, like you’re not sure you’re allowed but hoping you are.

She doesn’t stop you.

Doesn’t even comment.

Just lets you.

Wanda stands behind you, gently brushing your hair.

Slow strokes.

Working through tangles without pulling.

“You’re being very patient,” she says softly.

You nod a little.

Your focus is on the ring.

The way it catches the light.

The way it spins.

Natasha and Wanda talk quietly above you.

Low voices.

Calm.

You don’t understand all of it.

Something about calls. Paperwork. Tomorrow.

But their voices are steady.

Not sharp.

Not scary.

Just… there.

Wanda’s fingers begin to braid your hair, movements careful and rhythmic.

You lean slightly into the feeling without realizing it.

Into the warmth.

Into them.

And for the first time, everything feels slow.

Safe.

Yours.

Even if just for tonight.

-///-

The cake is a little uneven.

You notice that first.

The frosting swirls aren’t perfect, and one side dips slightly like it leaned too long, but it’s still the prettiest thing you’ve ever seen.

Because it’s yours.

“Okay,” Wanda says softly, setting it down in front of you, a small smile on her face. “Ready?”

You nod, even though your chest feels full in a way you don’t completely understand.

Natasha stands just behind you, one hand resting lightly on your shoulder.

“Make a wish, baby,” she murmurs.

You close your eyes.

You don’t even have to think about it.

Then you blow out the candles.

Wanda claps softly, laughing a little. Natasha’s hand squeezes your shoulder once, and when you look up at her, she’s smiling—small, but real.

“Presents?” Wanda asks.

You nod again, a little more excited this time.

There aren’t many.

But that doesn’t matter.

Wanda hands you a small box first. Inside is something soft, a sweater in your favourite colour.

You smile, hugging it close.

“Thank you, Mom,” you say quietly.

Her eyes soften instantly.

Natasha hands you the last one.

It’s not wrapped like the others.

Just a folder.

You tilt your head slightly. “What’s this?”

“Open it,” she says gently.

You do.

At first, the words don’t make sense.

They’re too big. Too official.

Then you see it.

Your name.

Their names.

Together.

Something shifts.

Something settles.

You look up, your hands tightening slightly on the paper.

“…Mama?” you whisper.

Natasha’s expression softens completely. “Yeah.”

You turn to Wanda, your voice smaller now but steady.

“…Mom?”

She nods, her eyes shining. “Yeah, sweetheart.”

Your grip on the paper loosens as you move forward without thinking, wrapping your arms around both of them.

And this time—

You know you’re not going anywhere.

The night was alive. The air was so thick and smokey. The music thrummed straight through the bodies surrounding you and into your eardrums. It mixed with a variety of conversations, half of them were high-induced philosophies and theories, while the other half were drunken confessions. Sweat flicked through the air with the start of every dance move. Tony Stark’s parties, always a rager, no matter what the occasion. 

You shimmied off the dance floor, avoiding the hormone monsters that are college students grinding on one another. You were desperate for some sort of fresh air, away from the stuffiness of the dance floor. The kitchen was somewhat empty, more sober people maintaining intelligent conversations. Grabbing a red solo cup, you filled your cup with beer, as you people watched. Thor was trying his hardest to be Valkyrie in beer pong, but by the looks of the cups, he was failing. Steve, Bucky, and Sam had their arms wrapped around one on another as they sang along to some tune. But your eyes were torn from the scene when shouts of her name rang throughout your ear. 

“Wanda!!” Clint yelled the loudest. 

Her emerald eyes found yours, like it was the most natural thing in the world, her lips quirked upwards slightly. As quick as it appeared, it faded away, like reality finally caught up to her. You let out a deep breath as you maintained eye contact, trying to slow your racing heartbeat, “Y/N! Dude!” Scott yelled and you looked down at your cup to see it spilling over the edge like Niagra Falls. 

“Fuck,” you muttered under your breath, turning off the tap, and wiping off your beer soaked hands. Your eyes filtered back up to Wanda, as the redheaded Russian appeared behind her, intertwining their fingers together. You reach for the paper towel roll, ripping off a few pieces to clean up the mess you made. 

“Wow sestra, the party started an hour ago and you’re already making a mess,” Natasha’s voice made you freeze in your spot. You turn to face your older sister wearing her infamous shit-eating smirk. 

Your eyes drifted down to their intertwined hands as you gave them your best smile, “Ouch Nat, no, how’s my favorite sister doing? Or I’m so happy to see you!” You tease and she playfully rolls her eyes. 

“Yelena would kick my ass if she heard me say that you’re my favorite sister,” Nat said, her eyes scanning the crowd. “Where is she anyway?” 

You shrug, “Last time I checked she was about to play a game with Kate. Something about shooting arrows at beer bottles that rested on top of Peter’s head,” Natasha’s eyes widen at your nonchalant tone. Her eyes once more scanning the crowd for your younger sister. “Anyway, back to the whole favorite thing. She can’t kick your ass if it’s the truth. I mean I’m your favorite sister, right?” Your sister rolls her eyes, as she starts weaving her way through the crowd in search of Yelena, “Wait! Nat! I’m your favorite, right?!” you yell over the loud music and the indistinct chatter. 

Wanda chuckles, “Are they really shooting beer bottles off of Peter’s head?” She asks with a knowing look in her eyes.

Your eyes shined back with mischief, shaking your head, “Nope! Kate and Yelena suggested the idea, but Peter quickly shot it down, despite them trying to blackmail him.” The two of you share a giggle at the thought of the best friends. 

“They’re gonna kill that poor boy one day,” she says and you nod your head in agreement. The two of you stand there in a comfortable silence, people watching.

Wanda’s hand drifts closer to yours, desperate for some sort of contact with you. Before she intertwines your fingers together, you pull away quickly, “Shit. I promised Steve I would bring him this beer. He’s probably looking for where I am, I’ll catch you later,” you smile at her before taking the red solo cup and whisking yourself away. You left so fast, you didn’t get a chance to see Wanda’s disappointed look on her face. 

The stuffy room suddenly felt suffocating, slipping out to the backyard, it was a lot less crowded. You slipped your shoes off, rolling up the cuffs of your jeans, as you dipped your legs into the pool. The cool summer night breeze brushed through your hair, drying the sweat that lingered from the dance floor. You grabbed your pack of cigarettes from your back pocket, flickering your lighter to slowly kill yourself by inhaling the small cancerous stick. 

Your mind drifted back to the brunette inside, you could marry her. You really wanted to fucking marry her. You had never felt this way about anyone before. Even though you shouldn’t, you know damn well that you shouldn’t. But that night over winter break changed everything for you. 

The winter breeze shook through your body, as your legs dipped into the freezing water. You hugged your jacket tighter against your body, pulling out the pack of cigarettes from your jacket pocket. You felt someone’s presence next to you, as they sat down, dipping their own feet into the pool. You slowly inhaled from the nicotine lit stick, as you turned your head to face the unknown presence. Wanda had a sheepish smile on her face, her brunette hair tucked back behind her ears, “Can I have a light?” she asks. 

You chuckle softly, flicking the ash onto the concrete next to you, “Wanda Maximoff, having a smoke? Since when?” 

“Since right now. I want to try one,” she said, sitting up straight, her voice sounding confident, like she knew what she was doing. 

“No, I’m not gonna give you one,” you laugh at her shocked face.

“But why not? You do it all the time!” she questioned with her eyebrows furrowed and matching pout on her face. 

God she looked so adorable, but you quickly shook that intrusive thought off, “Exactly I do it all the time, which doesn’t make it a good thing. These little guys are terrible for you, especially when you get addicted. They slowly kill you from the inside out. I mean I have one every day and you know what? It’ll probably kill me one day. At the time, I didn’t have anyone care enough about me to tell me to stop.  So no you absolutely can not have one because if I give you one my sister would probably kill me before the smoking does."

She looks at you with her eyes widened and a small smile, "Are you sure this is about Nat kicking your ass or do you not want to give me one because you care about me?" She teased in a sing songy voice as a light pink coats your cheeks.

“Definitely more about my sister kicking my ass. Speaking of my sister, I’m honestly surprised you came to this party. My sister is off on a work trip in Boston and you’re usually attached at the hip.” 

She rolls her eyes, “Well, someone was a little convincing today with the whole ‘Wanda please! We haven’t hung out together since you started dating my sister!’ begging act that you pulled today.” 

“Excuse me! I was not begging!” you bring your voice down to a whisper, leaning towards her ear, “Trust me Maximoff, when I’m begging there'll be much less clothes on,” you wink at her, causing her eyes to widen and a soft blush to dust over her cheeks. She slaps your shoulder, throwing her face in her hands before letting out a groan, “C’mon, pretty girl, let’s get you a drink!” 

You get thrown back into reality, when Thor drunkenly jumps into the pool and the cool water sprays across your face, “Sorry Y/N! Thor lost at beer pong and this was the punishment!” Valkyrie explained and you gave her a tight lipped smile before getting up and going back inside. 

You were just going to sit by the window sill away from the rest of the party, but your eyes found Natasha and Wanda’s figures on the dance floor. The two of them moved sensually to the beat and you couldn’t help, but feel the ache in your heart. You couldn’t seem to tear your eyes away until those god damn green eyes found yours and you quickly looked away, sneaking off towards the balcony. No one else really knew about it. But you knew it, all too well. 

Wanda’s breath was close to your ear, as she tried to get you to hear her over the pounding music, “Do you want to break away from all of this? I think I need a little breather.” 

You nod, “C’mon, I know the perfect place,” you extend her hand out to her and she intertwines your fingers together, not wanting to get separated in the crowd. 

Leading her through the house and to the balcony on the top floor, you opened the door for her. The rest of the party seemed to have faded away from your secluded spot. The only real noise was the muffled music coming from downstairs, but even that seemed like it was miles away. The drinks were taking effect, not too bad enough to have you spinning, but a nice little buzz in your head. 

The two of you take a seat on the little patio chairs, looking up at the bright city skyline. People like to think of the New York City skyline as one of the most beautiful views in the world, but as Wanda sits next to you with the bright city lights illuminating her face, it definitely tops the city. Once more, you fetch out your pack of cigarettes, lighting another one as it rested in between your fingers. 

“You said that when you first started smoking it felt like you had no one who cared about you, why is that?” the brunette asks, staring at you intently as you exhale a puff of smoke. 

You shrug, flicking the ash onto the ground, “I started back when we were seniors in high school, after my mom died and my dad left. Nat turned 18 not too long before my mom died and she was forced into the role of being an actual adult because when you turn 18, you’re not really an adult even though you’re labeled as one. Some 18 year olds just finished high school, and are still living with their parents, but Nat had to take care of two younger sisters. She had to put her life on hold for me and Lena. Instead of helping her and supporting her, when our mom died I kind of blew off all responsibilities. I turned rebellious, stopped playing volleyball, hung out with the wrong crowd. Nat always had the disappointed mom look and she was always angry at me, which made Yelena angry with me all the time. So, when I started smoking our relationship was so bad, that it felt like neither of them would have cared.” 

“I didn’t know that,” she whispered. It was eye opening to her, you were her best friend. Of course, she knew that your mom died and that your dad left as soon as she died. But it seemed like a new side of you was shining through. 

“Not a lot of people do. It’s one of the things I regret the most, you know? I was so selfish back then. I mean even Yelena acted like more of an adult than I did. Now every time I light one of these guys, it’s a constant reminder of what I did…or well I guess what I didn’t do. My punishment for how I acted back then,” you chuckle lightly, “I’ve never said that before, so I better not regret telling you Maximoff.” A lighthearted tone in your voice, as you try to hide the self depreciation in it. 

Her head tilts to the side and her eyes are lit up, like you just showed her the most amazing thing in the world, “You won’t.” 

A shiver ripples through her body and you quickly shrug off your jacket, placing them over her body. Your scent of smoke and subtle hints of vanilla invaded her senses, quickly becoming addicted to it. “Why didn’t you bring a jacket, Wands? My sister’s not here, so who are you trying to impress,” you quip and she smiles, shaking her head. 

“No one,” she mutters, but she desperately wishes she could say, ‘you’. 

“What’s got you so angry?” Yelena asks, plopping down next to you with her own red solo cup in her hand. The soft memory fading away from your mind as you shrug. The itch to reach for another cig was becoming too strong.

“Nothing. How’d you even know I was up here?” 

“I saw you pouting like Peter Parker when Kate and I make fun of him, so I followed you up here,” she shrugs, “So do you want to talk about it?” 

“Not really," you say pulling at the loose thread from the rips in your jeans.

She scoffs, “Let me rephrase that question, do you not want to talk to me about it because it’s about Wanda?” 

“Yelena don’t-“

“No Y/N. Look, whatever you and Wanda had going on, it needs to stop,” your younger sister scolds.

You stand up abruptly, rubbing your face with your hands, “Don’t you think I know that? You’ve already lectured me once and I’ve kept my distance from her since then. I am trying my best! Now please, just leave me here to sulk, I’ll be fine just like I always am.”

She throws the pack of cigarettes that you didn’t even know fell out of your pocket. Some of them rolling onto the ground, “You told me you quit these too! You don’t think I could smell the smoke off of you right now? I may be your little sister, but I am not stupid. So if you were lying about these, how do I know you’re really lying about stopping things with Wanda?” 

She opens the balcony door about to walk in, but she stops just as she enters the frame, “You’re supposed to be the older sister, right?” She looks at you intently like she’s waiting for an answer and you just nod. “So fucking act like it.”

Yelena slams the door shut. You collapse onto the patio chair, dropping your face into your hands as you let out a shaky breath. Your shaky hands reached for the pack of cigarettes on the floor, neatly placing it in a box, but keeping one of them out, lighting it as it rests in between your lips. 

How did everything get so fucked up?

“I’m not this type of girl,” Wanda whispers in the middle of the night. You and your sisters had your closest friends over for a small party. Everyone else seemed to have passed out from Yelena’s drinking games. But both you and Wanda were fighting dreamland and instead giving into your fantasies.

The spring breeze rippled through the two of you as you stood out on your apartment balcony. “What do you mean?” 

She shrugs, leaning in a bit closer, “I don’t sneak around in the middle of the night and secretly hope that my girlfriend's sister is awake. I don’t hug someone for longer than what is deemed friendly in a stranger’s eyes. I don’t immediately look at someone who’s not my girlfriend after anyone tells a joke just to see their smile,” she says, as the two of you just continue to get lost into each other’s eyes.

You start shrinking under her gaze, reaching for the pack of cigarettes in your hoodie pocket. You were about to light it when Wanda grabbed the lighter and the rest of the pack that you held in your hand. Your eyebrows furrowed as you stared into her beautiful green eyes, “You once told me a month ago that you felt like you had no one who cared enough to tell you to stop smoking when you first started. So, I’m telling you right now that I care about you and I don’t want you to kill yourself with these stupid sticks.”

A shy smile curled onto your face, as you let her throw your pack into the trash can. “I’m not that kind of girl either, but as I’m staring into those goddamn eyes of yours all I can think about is how much I want to kiss you.” You quip back, ignoring the guilt induced thoughts that are trying to betray what your heart is screaming at. 

She snorted at your response, a mischievous smile on her face. The pad of Wanda’s thumb gently traces over your lips and your body freezes. Her hands hesitantly move from your lips to your cheeks, as she stares into your eyes begging for approval. Without thinking, you leaned in and kissed her lips, and the brunette immediately returned the kiss gently. 

You place your hands on her chest, pressing harder against her lips. She smiles to herself as she places her hand on your waist. Your kisses become more passionate as your tongue battles for dominance. Her hands on your hips pulled you closer and your cold hands quickly slid under your shirt.

As she ran out of breath, she decided to slide down to her neck, leaving sloppy kisses. You let out a small moan in pleasure, “Wanda?” She hums in response, slightly nipping your neck, “Do you want to take this to my room?”

“Please,” she mumbled against your neck. 

When it was over, the two of you lay next to each other. The pants of your breathing filled your bedroom. Your bare chests moving in perfect rhythm to your shared heartbeat. The beautiful brunette shifts her body towards you, looking at you with droopy eyes and tired smile. 

“Hi,”  Wanda whispered shyly. 

“Hi,” you said, charmed. 

She grabs your fingers and plays with them, weaving her own fingers between them, bringing your hand up to your lips, pressing a soft kiss against it. Your hands trace figures along your hip. Her gentle hand brushes away a stray piece of hair that fell across your face, as she tucked it into place. 

“I have always wanted you,” she whispers, “It’s always been you.” 

What should’ve been the last time turned into a past time. Two best friends breaking away from a party started innocently. Gossiping in the bathrooms quickly turned into heated makeout sessions. A breather on the balcony away from your drunken peers turned into deep conversations with her head tucked into the crook of your neck as you hold onto each other.  

That one tiny spark that the two of you wouldn’t put out was slowly coming to the end of the cigarette. The cigarette stick was nothing, but a nub as it was about to disintegrate into thin air.

At first it was fun, making a million excuses just to have a simple moment alone. Until, the need for something more came to be and the realization of what the two of you had done seeped into your bloodstream like some sort of drug. A drug that you couldn’t kick. You had stopped smoking for her, but she was this new drug that you were terribly addicted to.  

Wanda’s head rested on the top of your chest, as your arms wrapped securely around her. From the curtains of your window, you could see the sun start to slowly rise, and the soft snores from her mouth filled the room. 

You kiss the top of her head gently, “Wands,” you whispered in her ear, scratching her back. A soft hum escaped her lips as she stirred in your arms, “The sun’s coming up, you should sneak out before Yelena wakes up.” 

“Just a few more minutes,” she whispers, nuzzling deeper into your neck. 

“We don’t have a few more minutes, darling,” you respond with a soft smile on your face. She lets out a soft groan before lifting herself off of you. Wanda sat up, pulling your oversized t-shirt over her, and a pair of shorts. Her hair was slightly disheveled and her tired eyes were one of the most beautiful things you’ve ever seen. “You’re a work of art, Wanda Maximoff.” 

She snorted, “That was lame,” she mumbled, leaning down to kiss you. Her lips slightly chapped, but you didn’t care, you just loved the feeling of her lips on yours. “I’ll see you at the party tomorrow night, where we are going to go through with our plan and tell Natasha together, right?”

Even though her eyes were still droopy, she looked at you intently, “Right,” you mumbled against her lips, pressing another kiss to them.

“Y/N, I need you to promise me this time. Every time we’ve made a plan to tell her the truth, you’ve backed out. We can’t keep lying to her like this. I want to be with you the right way. So, please…for me?” she whispered to you.

You let out a sigh, pressing a kiss to her forehead, before touching them together, “I promise.”

“I love you,” she whispered into the thin air. 

“I love you. I have loved you, well…definitely longer than I should have. We’ll tell her tonight and we’ll face the consequences together. I promise,” A wide smile crosses her face and how you so desperately wish you could hold onto that smile forever. She wraps her arms around your neck, pulling herself closer to you as she kisses you with so much love, you don’t know how your heart hasn’t exploded. “Now, you should probably get going before Lena wakes up. C’mon pretty girl, I’ll walk you out,” you whisper to her, kissing her quickly. 

The two of you reach your apartment door, kissing her once more before asking her to text you when she gets home. You were about to stumble back to bed, desperate for some shut eye, when you bumped into a figure. Your eyes flickered onto your little sister. 

“What are you doing up so early?” She questions.

“I needed some water, so I just chugged a glass,” you lied. “Why are you up so early?” 

“I promised Kate that I would go on a morning run with her, Peter, and Lucky this morning,” she answered, staring at you intently. 

You give her a tight lipped smile, “Well, I uh hope you have fun. I’ll see you when you get-“

“Are you sure you were just grabbing some water? Because from what I saw from here, you were just walking Wanda out of the apartment. She was wearing one of your shirts, which I thought was fishy. But I just thought that maybe she just spent the night. I don’t know why you wouldn’t tell me, but that’s cool. I gave you the benefit of the doubt, I didn't want to jump to conclusions. But all of that benefit of the doubt bullshit I told myself flew out my head when I saw you kiss her goodbye. What the fuck is wrong with you?!”

“Lena, look-“

“How long?” She interrogated you and your eyes drift down to your hands as you fiddled with them. Your little sister looked down to meet your gaze, forcing you to look her in the eyes, “How long, Y/N?”

“For the last three months, but we’re planning to tell her the truth  tomorrow night at Stark’s party.” 

“I need you to listen to me very carefully, Y/N. Nat has sacrificed everything for us! Everything! She declined her top college on the west coast to stay home and take care of us. She took crappy jobs that she didn’t want just to make ends meet when she was just 18 years old! She wasn’t like you. She didn’t throw away her volleyball scholarships. She gave them up. She sacrificed and lost everything! For me,” she took a dangerous step closer to you, pushing her finger into your chest. “And you! Natasha wanted us to have the best life that mom had always promised us, even if that meant putting her life on hold. And this is how you’re going to repay her for that? You're going to repay her by sneaking around with her girlfriend?!”

“That is not fair, Lena!” you scold her. 

She scoffs, “Not fair? Do you know what’s not fair, Y/N? The money she saved in her savings account all throughout high school quickly drained, because she had to bail you out of jail more than once. You were lucky that Steve’s dad was the sheriff so it never touched a sliver of your record, but Nat still had to pay the fines. It’s not fair that when I was a sophomore in high school, I couldn’t go to any football games or dances because I had to grow up and cover all of your shifts while you were off getting shit faced somewhere else!”

“My mom died-“ you were about to argue.

“So did ours, Y/N!” she screamed at you. “Yet, Natasha and I were picking up the pieces and you kept destroying everything in sight. So, I want you to think about this when you and Wanda tell Natasha all about your relationship tomorrow night, she has given everything she loves up for you and me. Wanda is just going to be one more thing she loses because of you.”

The two of you stayed there in a tense silence, just staring at one another with tear filled eyes. Until the front door swung open. Out of the corner of your eye, you watched as your older sister wheeled in her suitcase from her latest business trip. 

A low whistle left her lips as she saw the standoff between the two of you, “Is everything okay?” 

Yelena was first to break her gaze, forcing a smile on her face, something she has gotten far too good at. “Yeah, welcome home, sestra. I’m about to head out to go on a morning run with Kate and Peter, I'll see you guys later.”

“What was that about?” Nat asked as your younger sister left. 

You shrug, “No idea,” you clear your throat, subtly wiping away at your eyes while she starts brewing some coffee. “How was the trip?”

The balcony door creaked open as you lit another cigarette. “Detka? What are you doing?” Wanda’s voice filled the thick air, grabbing the cigarette from your lips and throwing it out. “You haven’t smoked for the last three months, when’d you even get a pack? What happened?”

Your eyes were bloodshot from holding back the tears that you were so desperately trying to keep in. You know what has to happen. 

The drug that is Wanda Maximoff gave you such a high. You were so addicted to the illusions of the love between you and her. A love that never was and never will be. The worst part about any addiction is that it’s so intimate. You become so close with your addictions that leaving them behind is like killing a part of you that taught you how to survive. And all that’s left of you is pain and misery. 

“Y/N, why have you been avoiding me?” Wanda questions, her voice shaking just a little bit. 

You shrug, “You seem a little preoccupied. I didn’t want to intrude,” you look out at the skyline, desperately avoiding her gaze. 

“Oh okay. So this has nothing to do with what we’re going to tell Nat tonight?”

You shook your head, “There’s nothing to tell. There’s nothing going on between us, Wanda. There can’t be anything going on,” you look at her, the tears that you were trying to hold back were falling like droplets of rain against your car window. “You’re my best friend and you’re my sister’s girlfriend. That’s all.”

“You’re not just my best friend, Y/N, and you know it. You can’t pretend like we never happened because it did, it happened. And I don’t regret it, not one bit. I am in love with you, Y/N, and I know what we did wasn’t right, but I can’t help but love you,” she explains to you, trying to wrap her arms around you, but you shake your head once more as you step away from her. 

“This can’t happen. We need to pretend like none of this happened-“ you begged her. You didn’t want to make this harder than it needed to be. 

“We have been sneaking around for months! Even if she doesn’t know it, we have already hurt her! If we tell her together, we are doing right by Natasha. She’s going to be heartbroken and angry, but she’s going to realize one day that this was the right thing to do. She deserves better than someone who’s in love with her sister.” 

There was a silence that followed, as you just continued to stare at her speechless, “I can’t-“ your voice breaks, as you look down at your hands. 

Wanda’s arms wrapped around your waist and you weren’t fighting it anymore. She placed her forehead against yours, her voice pleading, “I’ll fix it please, I’ll do anything. We don’t have to tell Nat until you’re ready, just please don’t do this.” 

“You can’t fix this, Wands. The only person who can fix this is me. You’re right, Nat deserves better, and after all the shit I put her through the last five years, I'm going to give that to her. I’m going to be the sister she should’ve had by her side when our mom died. So that means letting you go,” you whispered, biting your lip to stop the sobs that are trying to escape. “You deserve better than me anyway, Wands. Someone like my sister,” 

You kiss her forehead, before pulling away from her embrace, “I’m sorry,” you whisper to her. 

You avoided her tear stained cheeks and glossy eyes, as you continued to sit out and stare at the city before you. You destroyed everything in sight, but this time you were going to be the one to pick up all the pieces. Suddenly, her gaze wasn’t on you anymore and the balcony door was being slammed shut. 

Your eyes drift to the voices at the front of the house, “Wanda, what happened?” Nat’s voice rings in your ear and you can see them from where you’re sitting. 

“Nothing, it was just too crowded and everything was too overwhelming. I think I just need to go home,” she says and you hate how her tears are because of you. Your older sister wrapped her strong arms around the distressed girl, holding her tighter. 

Fishing out your pack, you lit the small cigarette, enjoying the way it made your head feel. Wanda’s eyes flickered up towards the balcony, noticing the smoke emitting off of it. You let out a sigh, staring at the girl in front of you. All that the two of you were was all you were ever going to be because she always had someone waiting at home.

“C’mon, let’s go home,” Nat whispered to her, intertwining their fingers together, and leading her to the car.

Wanda ignores the pleading voices calling after her as she leaves the house, leaving her enforcers to deal with the dirty work. It’s not that Wanda is afraid of violence; she’s just not in the mood today. Besides, she just got her nails done ready for her club visit tonight; she doesn’t feel like getting her hands dirty. Sure enough she soon hears the sounds of panicked cries from inside. Well, who borrows money that they know they can’t pay back? All the terms and conditions were laid out to them before they borrowed anything. It wasn’t like Wanda was being unfair.

Her phone beeps in her pocket as she heads towards her car, and she takes it with an irritated sigh. Why does everyone need her input on absolutely everything? Is it so difficult for people to just make decisions themselves? Honestly, things would fall apart without her. Wanda fires off several messages, pausing outside her car so she can type.

 As she goes to slip her phone back into her pocket, she feels a strong arm wrap around her, trapping her arms to her sides. Just as she opens her mouth to cry out or ask what the hell they think they’re doing, a cloth goes over her mouth and nose. She struggles, panic overwhelming her as she reaches blindly for the gun she keeps holstered on her thigh. Whoever’s got her grabs her hand, holding it tightly so she has no choice but to wait for the chloroform to overtake her, dragging her into a deep, dreamless sleep.

Time must pass though Wanda isn’t sure how much when she wakes up. Her head feels heavy and she groans, looking around the room blearily. Part of her had expected to wake up in a basement, probably beneath one of the rival gangs’ houses, quiet and secluded, so no one would hear her scream. She’s surprised to find herself in what appears to be in an ordinary living room. Wanda’s seated on a dining chair, pulled away from the small table in the corner of the room. When she goes to stand up, she finds herself tied to the chair – her wrists bound behind her back, and her ankles tied to the legs of the chair.

Her fingers scrabble for her knife, only to find someone’s already removed it, along with her gun and her phone. All of them are placed carefully on the table where Wanda can see them and she squirms, trying to move the chair closer to her belongings. Whoever’s bound her has done an expert job - no matter how much she twists and wriggles, the ropes don’t loosen at all. She groans in frustration, tugging harder on the rope around her wrists but they still don’t give.

Instead, Wanda begins to study the room she’s in. The curtains are drawn shut, ensuring she can’t see out, and that no one can see in. It’s an expensively furnished room, with plush couches, a large TV, and framed photos. Wanda’s taken by surprise when she spots a photo of herself sitting on the mantel piece and she squints. Is that-

“Hey baby.”

Wanda turns her head and spots you in the doorway, her whole body instantly relaxing. “You- I thought I’d been kidnapped! What were you thinking?”

You grin, crossing the room to squat down in front of her, your fingers dancing over her knee teasingly. “But you have been kidnapped.”

Wanda rolls her eyes, but she’s unable to keep the smile off her face. God, you’re so annoying. This must be your living room, and sure enough when Wanda glances towards the mantel piece, the photo is of the two of you, your arm slung loosely around Wanda’s shoulders.

Wanda had recruited you to her empire personally. She’d learnt about the Widows from Natasha Romanoff, one of her other trusted recruits, and she’d made a point of recruiting as many ex-Widows as possible. At first you hadn’t been keen but Wanda had come to meet with you, outlining your position in her gang, how much you’d be paid, and the protection she could offer you. Wanda had always assumed those were the selling points, but you’d later confessed it was your attraction to Wanda herself that had convinced you to take the job.

Most of her Widow recruits were assassins, taking out people who were getting in Wanda’s way or posing any kind of threat. Your work was more specialised though – you kidnapped people. On more than one occasion if someone was unable to pay back their bills to Wanda, you would kidnap someone important to them, giving Wanda leverage to incentivise any stragglers to gather the money for their loved ones release.

“I have work to do,” Wanda protests though her voice is low, her objections sounding pretty weak. “And you tied these too tightly-”

“I tied them just right, and you don’t have any work to do right now other than sit there and look pretty for me.”

Wanda hates how your hand sliding up to her thigh, and your cocky voice, affects her so much. Her wrists twist in the ropes again but it’s useless, she’s not getting free by herself. “Do you wanna tell me why I’m here?”

You meet her gaze and grin, “Oh come on… This is your fantasy, isn’t it baby?”

Her cheeks flush. She’d kind of hoped you’d forgotten about that.

You’d been working for her for around a year when the two of you had finally gotten together. Both of you were taking it slow – Wanda was incredibly busy running her empire, and you were busy carrying out all of her orders. Besides, she didn’t really want the others to know that you were dating the boss, so you’d mostly met in secret. You never made it easy, turning up at her office just to steal kisses or leave her little presents. During meetings you’d rub your foot against her leg beneath the table, smirking to yourself whenever you saw Wanda swallow hard to compose herself. Any opportunity you got to wind her up, you took it.

Date nights were rare but one time Wanda turned up at your apartment in the middle of the night, having had too much to drink in one of her clubs, and now she needed a place to crash. She insisted your apartment was the closest place but you knew for a fact it wasn’t, not that you called her out on it. Wanda had been in a cuddly mood, something you didn’t see often because she only acted like this when she was certain you were alone. It was hard to get Wanda to relax, she always assumed someone would come in and catch you. Being drunk only heightened her clinginess and she’d curled up right next to you in your bed, wearing one of your oversized shirts as pyjamas.

“You know, if you sleep in my bed, you have to tell me a secret first,” You’d said.

“I don’t have any secrets from you,” Wanda had mumbled back, nuzzling into your chest.

You’d kissed the top of her head, “Bullshit. You gotta tell me something.”

“I don’t know. I wanna sleep. Can you rub my feet in the morning?”

“You can only sleep if-”

“Play with my hair, Y/N, please-”

“Baby, you gotta tell me a secret. Literally anything. Or I won’t play with your hair.”

She’d groaned, “Fine! Fine. You can ask me any question and I’ll answer it truthfully.”

You’d thought for a long moment before asking quietly, “Okay. Tell me… Your secret fantasy.”

“I don’t have one.”

“Bullshit! Everyone has one.”

Wanda had groaned, realising she wasn’t going to get you to either drop the subject or play with her hair until she offered you something, “Okay, fine. I think… Well… I’ve never been tied up before. And I guess that would be kinda hot.”

“Oh yeah? You’d like someone to kidnap you and tie you up?”

“In theory, yeah,” Wanda had mumbled back. “Only if that someone was you though.”

“Hmm. I’ll bear that in mind.”

“Play with my hair!”

You’d grinned, kissing her forehead and relenting, running your fingers through her soft hair. Wanda had practically purred like a cat, pressing a kiss to your chest before nodding off. In the morning she’d gotten her promised foot rub whilst she’d sipped tea and ate the breakfast you’d made her. Neither of you mentioned the conversation you’d had last night. Wanda hadn’t been so drunk she’d forgotten any of it, and her cheeks burned whenever she remembered confessing to her fantasy. That conversation had taken place months ago, and Wanda had hoped it had slipped your mind.

Of course it hadn’t.

“I thought you’d forgotten!” Wanda says, her wrists struggling in the ropes again.

You smirk, squeezing her thigh. “Nope. I just let enough time pass so you’d think I forgot and then I could truly surprise you.”

“You really knocked me out with chloroform? What were you thinking?”

“You were perfectly safe. It’ll give you a bit more of an insight into what happens to all those people you order me to kidnap.” Wanda rolls her eyes, having to bite her lip when you squeeze her thigh again. “How does it feel? Being at my mercy?”

“I- I’m not at your mercy. I could break free whenever I want.”

Wanda’s voice is breathless and you can’t help grinning, moving your hand to run your fingers gently against her cheek, “Oh is that so? In that case, I’m sorry baby; I thought I’d secured you enough. Don’t worry though, I’ll fix it.”

Wanda is helpless to do anything as you get another rope, wrapping it around her torso and pulling her back tightly against the chair. As soon as you’re done, you begin wrapping rope around her thighs as Wanda whimpers, the scary mafia boss reduced to a trembling mess beneath your knots. You kiss her cheek and ask in a singsong voice, “Is that better, baby?”

Wanda groans, tilting her head back, trying her best to look annoyed even though it’s obvious to both of you that she’s loving this. “I- I could still get free…”

“Okay. Get free then.”

Wanda’s cheeks flush and she mumbles irritably, “No. Not while you’re watching.”

You laugh, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear, “I could leave you alone to struggle for a little while, if you want.”

“You- You need to untie me, I have so much work to do and I-”

“Natasha’s checking up on that club tonight, and everything else will have to wait. Because…” You whisper directly into her ear, “You’re not going anywhere.”

Wanda bites her lip again, “Y/N, it- You- You need to untie me. That’s an order.”

“Oh, an order, huh?” You grin, completely unfazed by her demand. “It’s okay baby, I’m just showing you what you pay for, right? If you can’t get free… That must be because I’m pretty good at my job…”

“God, you’re insufferable.”

You smirk, nipping at her ear, then laughing when she whines. You’re the only person who ever gets to see this vulnerable side of her, and you love it. You check the ropes, making sure they’re still tight and then you kiss her cheek, “I have an idea.”

“Does it involve untying me?”

“Good question! No, it doesn’t. In fact, rather the opposite. I think I am going to leave you to squirm until you’re absolutely desperate for my touch. Does that sound fun?”

“What? You- You wouldn’t!”

“I think we both know that I’m going to.”

Your hands move down to her thighs again, giving them both a teasing squeeze before straightening up. Wanda squirms in the ropes, “Y/N-”

“Oh, thank you baby, I nearly forgot.”

“Forgot wh- Mmphm!”

You pull a cloth out of your back pocket, pushing it into Wanda’s mouth and tying it tightly at the back of her head. Her eyes are wide, a whole new wave of helplessness washing over her. She’s never experienced complete helplessness before but… She can’t deny how much she’s enjoying it, especially when you look at her like that. So confident, so cocky… You are good at your job. And you’re so hot when you get like this, it drives Wanda wild.

That’s how long it had been since everything changed. Not loudly. Not all at once. But in quiet, steady ways that settled into something real.

Something theirs. 

Wanda didn’t hide anymore—not completely. She still picked her moments, still held parts of herself close when the room felt too crowded or too loud… but she wasn’t shrinking anymore.

Not around Y/N.

Never around Y/N.

And Y/N learned her in a different way now.

The way Wanda’s scent softened when she was relaxed. The way her omega instincts curled into Y/N’s instead of fighting them. The way she reached for her without hesitation—like it was natural.

Like she was hers. Like Y/N was hers.

And now—Now they were waiting.

For Wanda’s heat.

A real one. Not rushed, not triggered by stress or proximity or chaos.

A choice. A beginning.

One more month.

---

The mission had taken longer than expected.

Nothing serious—just delays, complications, the usual—but it was enough to stretch that quiet thread in Y/N’s chest tighter than she liked.

Being away from Wanda still felt wrong.

Even now.

Especially now.

By the time Y/N got back to the compound, her body was tired—but her instincts were wide awake, restless in that low, persistent way that only meant one thing:

Omega. Close. Find her.

She didn’t even stop in the common room. Didn’t check in. Didn’t slow down. Her feet carried her straight down the hallway—past familiar doors, past voices, past everything—until she reached theirs.

Their room.

That still felt new. It just felt… right.

Y/N exhaled slowly, grounding herself before opening the door. The second it clicked open—“Y/N!”—and then Wanda was there.

No hesitation. No pause. Wanda ran straight at her.

Y/N barely had time to brace before Wanda jumped, arms wrapping tight around her shoulders, legs hooking around her waist as Y/N caught her instinctively.

“Hey—” Y/N huffed out a quiet laugh, arms locking around her securely. “Hi to you too.”

Wanda buried her face into Y/N’s neck immediately, breathing her in like she’d been holding her breath for days.

“I missed you,” she mumbled against her skin.

Y/N’s grip tightened without thinking. “I was gone three days,” she murmured, softer now.

“Too long,” Wanda said instantly.

Y/N smiled into her hair.

Yeah.

Too long.

---

She kicked the door shut behind her, carrying Wanda further inside without setting her down.

Wanda didn’t let go. Didn’t even try. Her fingers curled into the back of Y/N’s shirt, holding her there like she needed the contact—like letting go wasn’t an option yet.

“You’re tired,” Wanda said after a second, pulling back just enough to look at her.

Y/N huffed softly, a faint smile tugging at her lips as she shook her head.

“For you?” she murmured, voice low and warm. “Never.”

Before Wanda could respond, Y/N leaned in—slow, deliberate—her nose brushing along the side of Wanda’s neck. She inhaled deeply, eyes fluttering shut for a brief second as she took in her omega’s scent.

It was soft. Familiar. Home.

Her grip tightened just slightly around Wanda’s waist, grounding herself in it. “Missed this,” Y/N admitted quietly, her voice rougher now—not from exhaustion, but something deeper. “Missed you.”

Wanda’s breath hitched, her fingers curling gently into Y/N’s shirt again as she tilted her head just a little, giving her more space without even realizing it.

“You always do that,” Wanda whispered, a small smile in her voice.

“Do what?”

“Like you need to make sure I’m real.”

Y/N hummed softly against her skin, not pulling away.

“Because I do,” she said simply. “Out there, everything’s loud. Messy. But this—” her nose brushed once more along Wanda’s pulse, slower this time, calmer “—this is how I know I’m back.”

Wanda’s arms tightened around her shoulders, holding her close.

“You’re back,” she said softly.

Y/N smiled faintly against her neck. “Yeah,” she murmured. “I am.”

Wanda pulled back just enough to look at her—really look at her—taking in the softened edges of Y/N’s expression, the way her eyes were still a little heavy with exhaustion but steady, grounded.

Then her hands came up, gentle but sure, cupping Y/N’s cheeks.

“Hey,” Wanda whispered, thumbs brushing lightly along her skin.

Y/N’s breath stilled.

And then Wanda leaned in. The kiss was soft at first—slow, intentional. Not rushed, not demanding. Just warm. Familiar.

Y/N melted into it almost instantly, her hands settling more firmly at Wanda’s waist as she leaned forward, meeting her halfway. Her eyes slipped shut, tension easing out of her shoulders like something finally unclenching.

Wanda deepened it just slightly, tilting her head, her fingers still cradling Y/N’s face like she didn’t want her going anywhere. Like she couldn’t.

Y/N let out a quiet breath against her lips, something close to a hum, and for a moment she forgot about the mission, the exhaustion, everything outside this room.

It was just Wanda.

Just this.

When they finally pulled apart, it wasn’t far—foreheads resting together, breaths mingling.

“Still not tired?” Wanda murmured, a teasing softness in her voice.

Y/N let out a quiet huff of a laugh, her nose brushing Wanda’s. “Ask me again later,” she said, low and warm.

Wanda smiled, eyes shining just a little. “Okay,” she whispered.

Wanda was still in Y/N’s arms when Y/N shifted her grip slightly and walked them both further into the room. Instead of heading straight for the bed, Y/N stopped at the desk tucked against the wall and gently set Wanda down on top of it. Her hands lingered at Wanda’s waist for a moment, steadying her before pulling back.

Wanda tilted her head, watching her closely.

Y/N reached up, tugging at the collar of her mission jacket, rolling her shoulders slightly as she started to peel it off.

“What are you doing?” Wanda asked, brows lifting—though there was a faint spark in her eyes now, something warmer, a little teasing.

Y/N huffed softly, glancing at her as she shrugged the jacket off her shoulders. “Taking this off,” she said simply. “So we can actually lie down without me dragging half the mission dirt into the bed.”

Wanda’s lips twitched, but she shook her head, crossing her arms lightly. “You’re still dirty,” she pointed out. “And sweaty.”

“Wow,” Y/N deadpanned, tossing the jacket aside. “You really know how to make a girl feel wanted.”

Wanda smirked faintly, but didn’t back down. “Go shower.”

Y/N paused, then nodded once. “Yeah. I probably should.” She stepped closer again, hands finding Wanda’s waist like it was second nature. “I’ll be quick.”

But the moment she started to pull away—Wanda’s legs tightened around her. Firm. Unyielding.

Y/N blinked, caught off guard as Wanda pulled herself closer, arms sliding back around her neck, keeping her right there.

“No,” Wanda said softly.

Y/N’s hands came up instinctively, settling at her thighs to steady them both. “No?”

Wanda shook her head, pressing closer, her voice quieter now—but certain. “Stay.”

There was something in the way she said it—not needy, not demanding. Just… wanting.

Y/N exhaled softly, her grip loosening just a little as she leaned in again, forehead brushing Wanda’s.

“You’re the one who said I’m dirty,” she murmured.

“I did,” Wanda replied, not letting go.

“And sweaty.”

“Mhm.”

Y/N’s lips curved faintly. “And you still want me right here?”

Wanda’s answer was immediate—her arms tightening just slightly around Y/N’s neck.

“Yes.”

That did something to Y/N’s chest—something warm and grounding all at once. She stayed there for a second longer, just holding her.

Then, softer—“…Do you want to come with me?” Y/N asked, voice low. “Shower, I mean.”

Wanda blinked, just slightly surprised.

Y/N’s thumbs brushed lightly along her sides, steady, familiar. “We can be quick,” she added gently. “Then come back and crash properly.”

Wanda studied her for a moment—then a slow smile spread across her lips.

“Together?” she asked.

Y/N’s expression softened.

“Together.”

---

Next Morning

Wanda’s POV

Morning came softly.

Wanda woke slowly, her mind surfacing through warmth before anything else.

The first thing she noticed wasn’t sight. It was scent. Y/N’s alpha pheromones were wrapped around her—thick, warm, and grounding. Not overwhelming, not sharp like during instinct or conflict… just steady. Protective. Familiar.

They clung to her skin, the sheets—settled into her like something that belonged there. And beneath that—Her own.

Sweet, softened omega pheromones, tangled with Y/N’s in the air between them. The room still carried the faint, lingering heat of the night before—skin, closeness, shared warmth.

It made her chest tighten in the softest way.

Then she became aware of the physical weight behind her.

Y/N.

Spooning her.

An arm draped securely around her waist, pulling her back into a firm, protective hold. Their legs were tangled together, bare skin pressed along every line of her back. Y/N’s breath brushed warm and steady against the back of her neck, making Wanda shiver.

A quiet, instinctive reaction.

Her body responded before she could think—her hips shifting just slightly, pressing back into Y/N. Not deliberate. Just… natural.

Behind her, Y/N stirred faintly, her hold tightening a fraction even in sleep.

Wanda smiled. Carefully, she turned in her arms—slow, gentle movements so she wouldn’t wake her. It took a second to fully face her, but when she did—she softened instantly.

Y/N was asleep.

Peaceful in a way Wanda rarely got to see. No tension in her brow, no guarded edges. Just calm. Still.

Her Alpha.

Wanda lifted her hand, fingertips brushing gently along Y/N’s cheek, tracing her jaw with quiet affection.

Then she leaned in. A soft kiss to her lips. Another to her nose. One more to her cheek.

Light. Careful. Loving.

Y/N shifted slightly, a quiet breath leaving her—but didn’t wake.

Wanda smiled to herself.

Slowly, she slipped out of Y/N’s hold, lifting her arm just enough to slide free. She paused at the edge of the bed, glancing back.

Y/N instinctively shifted toward the space she left behind.

Wanda’s chest warmed. “I’ll be right back,” she whispered softly.

---

The bathroom was cool in contrast to the warmth she’d left behind.

Wanda moved quietly, freshening up, still wrapped in that lingering sense of closeness. Her thoughts were calm—grounded in a way that felt new and familiar all at once.

When she finally looked up at the mirror—

She paused.

Her gaze softened immediately. Faint marks dotted her skin—along her neck, her collarbone, her shoulders. Not harsh. Not careless. Intentional. She lifted her hand, fingertips brushing lightly over one, then another. Then she turn around to check her nape, finding a hickey there. 

Her lips curved into a small, private smile. “Y/N…” she murmured softly. There was no hesitation in her expression. Just warmth.

Her alpha is eager to mark her, but they needed to wait. 

She traced the mark one last time before letting her hand fall, her reflection looking back at her with quiet certainty.

After getting dressed, Wanda slipped out of the room, careful not to make noise. The compound was still quiet—early enough that most people hadn’t stirred yet.

She moved through the kitchen with ease, already deciding what to make. Something warm. Something filling. Something that will nourish Y/N tired body from the mission. Wanda smiled softly to herself as she started preparing breakfast.

---

Later

Wanda balanced the tray fulled with food that didn’t look like it was for two at all. She nudged the door open with her hip, stepping quietly back into their room.

The scent hit her first again—faded now, softer than before, but still there. Familiar. Warm. The lingering mix of them wrapped into the space like a memory that hadn’t quite settled yet. She smiled faintly as she walked in.

Then she saw her.

Y/N was still asleep—sprawled slightly across the bed, hair a mess, blanket half tangled around her legs…

…and hugging Wanda’s pillow. Tightly.

Like it had personally wronged her by not being the real thing. Wanda had to bite back a laugh. “Really?” she whispered under her breath, amused.

Y/N shifted a little, pulling the pillow closer, her face pressing into it as she breathed in deeply—even in sleep, chasing that familiar scent.

Wanda’s expression softened immediately. She set the tray down carefully on the bedside table, making as little noise as possible. For a moment, she just stood there, watching.

There was something about seeing Y/N like this—unguarded, instinctive—that made her chest feel too full.

Her Alpha.

Still seeking her, even unconscious.

Wanda moved closer, climbing gently onto the bed. She didn’t take the pillow right away—instead, she leaned over, brushing her fingers lightly through Y/N’s hair.

“Hey…” she murmured softly.

Y/N stirred faintly but didn’t wake.

Wanda smiled and leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to her temple.

“You know that’s not me, right?” she teased quietly.

At that, Y/N made a soft, sleepy sound—something between a hum and a protest—her arms tightening around the pillow.

“…warm,” she mumbled, barely coherent.

Wanda huffed a quiet laugh.

“I’m literally right here.”

Another small shift. Then, slowly, Y/N’s eyes cracked open—heavy, unfocused at first. It took her a second to register what she was seeing.

Wanda. Right there.

Her gaze softened instantly.

“There you are…” Y/N murmured, voice rough with sleep.

Before Wanda could say anything, Y/N’s arm slid around her waist and pulled her down, guiding her gently on top of her. The movement was unhurried, instinctive.

Y/N tilted her head up and kissed her.

Soft. Slow.

Like she was still waking up into it.

Wanda melted immediately, her hands bracing lightly against Y/N’s shoulders as she returned the kiss, smiling faintly against her lips.

When they parted, just barely, Y/N’s eyes flicked over her—taking in the clothes, the way she was already put together.

“…Why are you dressed?” Y/N murmured. Her hand had already started to drift under the hem of Wanda’s shirt, fingertips brushing warm skin. Wanda’s breath hitched just slightly. “I—went to make breakfast,” she said softly.

Y/N hummed, clearly unconcerned.

Her lips found Wanda’s neck, pressing a slow kiss just beneath her jaw as her fingers continued upward, gently lifting the fabric.

“Mm… smells good,” Y/N murmured—but it wasn’t clear if she meant the food.

Wanda exhaled softly, her head tilting just a little to the side. “Y/N…” she said, a little breathless now. “What are you doing?”

Y/N didn’t answer. She just shifted them both, turning them over smoothly so Wanda was beneath her on the bed, the movement easy but deliberate.

The shirt was gone a second later, discarded somewhere beside them.

Y/N leaned down again, pressing another slow kiss to Wanda’s neck—lingering this time.

Wanda let out a quiet, involuntary sound, her hands coming up to grip Y/N’s shoulders.

“Y/N…” she tried again, softer now.

But Y/N only hummed in response, lifting her head just enough to meet her lips again.

The air in the room shifted, growing heavy and thick with a sudden, localized heat that had nothing to do with the morning sun.

Wanda’s breath came in shallow hitches as she felt the cool air of the room hit her skin, followed immediately by the searing warmth of Y/N’s hands. Y/N moved with a focused, primal grace—her movements weren't frantic, but they were absolute. While her mouth stayed locked on Wanda’s, tasting her with a hunger that had only grown since the mission, her hands worked with a deftness that left Wanda reeling.

Before Wanda could even process the loss of her shirt, she felt her shorts and underwear being tugged down her legs and tossed aside.

She gasped into the kiss, her fingers curling tightly into the sheets as she felt Y/N’s weight settle. There was a brief, jarring moment of vulnerability—the cool air meeting her most sensitive skin—but it was gone in an instant.

Y/N shifted, her knees nudging Wanda’s thighs apart, claiming the space between them. The realization hit Wanda all at once. The playful morning energy had evaporated, replaced by a deep, pulsing intensity. She could feel the hard, blunt heat of Y/N pressing right against her, a silent promise of what was coming next. Y/N pulled back just an inch, her eyes dark, hooded, and swirling with an Alpha’s possessive fire. Her breathing was ragged, blowing hot against Wanda's damp lips.

"You're so beautiful," Y/N rasped, her voice vibrating through Wanda’s entire body.

Wanda looked up at her, her own eyes blown wide as her omega instincts surged to the surface, demanding this connection. She didn't want to wait. She didn't care about the breakfast getting cold on the table. She wanted the weight, the heat, and the soul-deep bond that only her Alpha could provide.

"The... the food," Wanda whispered, her voice trembling with a feigned innocence that didn't stand a chance against the way she was looking at Y/N. "You should eat, Y/N. You were gone for so long... aren't you hungry for breakfast?"

Even as the words left her lips, her body told a completely different story. Her legs, already hooked around Y/N's waist, slid further apart, her knees flaring wide to give Y/N total, unhindered access. She arched her back slightly, her hips tilting up in an unconscious invitation, seeking the very friction she was pretending to delay.

Y/N let out a low, vibrating hum that Wanda felt in her own marrow. She didn’t submerge herself just yet. Instead, she braced her weight on her forearms and began to drag her length up and down—a slow, agonizingly deliberate stroke right against Wanda’s slick, swollen folds.

"Breakfast, hm?" Y/N murmured, her voice dropping into a gravelly, teasing register. She pressed down a little harder on the upward stroke, catching the sensitive peak of Wanda’s bud with the crown of her heat. Wanda’s breath hitched, a sharp intake of air that ended in a shaky exhale.

"I don't know," Y/N continued, her eyes locked onto Wanda’s shimmering scarlet ones. "You worked so hard on that tray. It would be a shame to let it sit there. Should I get up? Go sit at the desk? Eat every bite?"

As she spoke, she kept the rhythm steady—slide up, press, slide down. Each pass was spreading Wanda’s own moisture, mixing their scents together until the air in the room felt thick enough to taste. Wanda let out a broken whimper, her fingers digging into the muscles of Y/N’s shoulders. The teasing was torturous.

"No..." Wanda choked out, her head tossing back against the pillow. Her omega pheromones suddenly spiked—a heavy, sweet, and intoxicating wave of floral musk that filled the space between them. It was the scent of total surrender, of a female in need of her mate. The air turned syrupy with it, a physical manifestation of her arousal that acted like a tether, pulling Y/N’s Alpha instincts to the fore.

"No breakfast?" Y/N whispered, her own pupils dilating until the Y/E/C in her eyes was nearly swallowed by black. She nudged her tip right against the opening, the wet heat of their contact making a soft, rhythmic sound. "You're sure, Wanda? You're being very convincing with your mouth... but your scent is telling me you want something else entirely."

"You," Wanda gasped, her hips giving a desperate, upward twitch, trying to force the entry. "I want you. Now. Please, Alpha... now."

The low, desperate plea broke the last of Y/N’s restraint. The teasing, the playfulness, the lingering exhaustion from the mission—it all vanished, incinerated by the thick, sweet scent of Wanda’s surrender. Y/N didn't pull away this time. She gripped Wanda’s thighs, her knuckles white against the pale skin, and guided her knees even higher, pinning them toward Wanda’s chest to open her completely.

"Okay," Y/N rasped, her voice thick with a dominant edge. "No more waiting." She surged forward. The entry was slow but relentless, a steady, heavy pressure that filled Wanda inch by inch. Wanda’s eyes went wide, a long, high-pitched keen escaped her throat—a pure omega sound—as her internal muscles stretched and molded themselves around Y/N’s impressive length.

It felt like coming home. Not the quiet, domestic home of the kitchen or the common room, but something ancient. Primal. Y/N let out a guttural groan, burying her face in the crook of Wanda’s neck as she finally seated herself fully. She stayed there for a heartbeat, perfectly still, just feeling the way Wanda’s body pulsed and clamped around her, trying to draw her even deeper.

"You feel... incredible," Y/N managed to choke out, her breath scorching Wanda’s skin.

Wanda’s hands found the back of Y/N’s head, her fingers tangling in her hair to pull her closer. "Don't stop," Wanda breathed, her voice a ragged mess of need. "Move, Y/N. Please, move."

Y/N obeyed. She began to pull back—nearly all the way out until only the tip remained to tease—before plunging back in with a sharp, heavy thrust. The sound of their bodies meeting was wet and rhythmic that echoed in the quiet room. Wanda’s head thrashed against the pillow, her voice falling into a litany of broken Sokovian and soft whimpers. With every downward drive, Y/N hit deeper, finding the sensitive curve of Wanda’s womb, marking her from the inside out with every heavy stroke.

The room was a haze of friction and pheromones. Y/N’s Alpha scent, dark and woody like a forest after rain, crashed against Wanda’s sweet, floral musk. They were drowning in each other, the mission and the compound and the rest of the world falling away until there was nothing left but this heat, this rhythm, and the soul-deep bond snapping into place with every breath they shared.

Y/N pushed herself up, bracing her weight on her palms so she could look down at the masterpiece unfolding beneath her. The view was staggering. Every heavy, deliberate thrust sent a ripple through Wanda’s body, her breasts bouncing with the impact, her nipples peaked and blushing a deep, sensitive pink against her pale skin. Wanda was a vision of total undoing. Her head was thrown back, her mouth hanging open as broken, melodic moans tumbled out in time with Y/N’s rhythm. Her pupils were so blown that the green of her iris was just a thin, glowing ring around a sea of black.

Y/N’s gaze drifted lower, fixating on the point of contact. Because she was braced high, she could see everything—the way her own length, slid effortlessly into Wanda’s heat. Wanda was still slightly puffy from the night before, her center a soft, bruised rose color, glistening and completely soaked with a mixture of her own honeyed slick and the friction of their bodies. With every withdrawal, the wetness followed Y/N out, coating her length before she disappeared back inside with a heavy, wet sound that filled the room.

"Look at you," Y/N growled, the Alpha in her chest roaring at the sight of her Omega so thoroughly claimed. "Look how well you take me, Wanda."

Wanda’s eyes flickered down, catching sight of them joined together. The visual was too much; her hips gave a violent, involuntary jerk, her internal walls spasming and tightening around Y/N like a vice. "Y/N... ah! Y/N!" Wanda cried out, her fingers clawing at the sheets.

The tightening of Wanda’s cunt sent a jolt of pure electricity up Y/N’s spine. Y/N’s jaw set, her muscles corded in her arms as she accelerated. The slow, teasing pace was gone, replaced by a frantic, driving need to reach the end. She hammered into Wanda, her hips crashing against Wanda’s with a bruising force, each strike sending a fresh wave of scent into the air.

Wanda was sobbing now, the pleasure crossing the line into something overwhelming, something transcendent. She wrapped her arms around herself, then reached up, her hands searching for Y/N’s, needing to be anchored as the world began to dissolve into white-hot sparks of scarlet and gold.

Y/N collapsed forward, the sudden shift in weight bringing them chest-to-chest as Wanda’s arms locked around her like a lifeline. The intimacy was stifling in the best way possible—a cocoon of heat, sweat, and the intoxicating perfume of their mingled scents.

Y/N buried her face in the crook of Wanda’s neck, her nose dragging against the sensitive skin she’d marked just an hour before. She inhaled sharply, drinking in the concentrated essence of Wanda’s omega pheromones, which were now pulsing at a fever pitch. Every time Wanda let out a jagged moan, the vibration traveled directly from her throat into Y/N’s jaw, sending sparks of fire straight to her core.

"That's it, sweetheart," Y/N grunted against her skin, her voice barely a whisper. "Just like that."

Y/N’s arms slid underneath Wanda, her large hands splayed against the small of Wanda’s back, pulling her up and into the rhythm. The contact was total; there was no space left between them, just the friction of skin on skin and the wet, heavy sound of Y/N’s hips working at a frantic pace. Wanda was a storm of sensation beneath her. One of her hands stayed anchored to Y/N’s neck, pulling her closer, while the other was buried deep in Y/N’s hair, her fingers tugging at the strands in a rhythm that matched the desperate thrusting of Y/N’s lower body.

"Y/N... please... I'm—" Wanda’s voice broke, a soft, high-pitched whimper vibrating right into Y/N’s ear.

Wanda’s body suddenly went rigid, her back arching off the bed as the first wave of her orgasm crashed over her. She cried out, a long, shattered sound that was muffled by Y/N’s shoulder, her internal muscles pulsing in frantic, rhythmic contractions that gripped Y/N with a bruising intensity. 

But Y/N wasn't done. The Alpha’s hunger was far from sated. Even as Wanda’s body trembled in the aftershock, Y/N didn't slow down. She didn't pull back. Instead, she kept the pace relentless, her hips driving forward with a steady, grounding force that forced Wanda to stay right there in the heat with her.

"I've got you," Y/N grunted, her voice low and possessive. "Stay with me, Wanda." In one fluid, powerful motion, Y/N shifted. She didn't break the connection, her hands sliding down to Wanda’s hips to keep them locked together as she rolled them both over.

Wanda gasped, her head spinning from the sudden change in perspective. One moment she was pinned to the mattress; the next, she was being pulled up, her knees landing on either side of Y/N’s waist as Y/N sat up, leaning back slightly against the headboard.

The new depth was staggering. With gravity now on Y/N's side, she was buried even deeper, her length pressing firmly against Wanda’s sensitive, over-stimulated walls. Wanda slumped forward, her chest heaving as she rested her forehead against Y/N’s. She was still coming, the tremors refusing to die down as Y/N’s hands settled firmly on her waist, guiding her. Y/N began to thrust upward—sharp, vertical jolts that hit Wanda’s most sensitive spots with unerring accuracy.

"Y/N... wait... " Wanda whimpered, her hands sliding weakly down Y/N’s arms, but her body was already betraying her words, her hips rolling instinctively to meet every upward strike.

“I’ve got you,” Y/N countered, her eyes burning as she watched Wanda’s face. She gripped Wanda’s hips tighter, her thumbs digging into the soft skin, and increased the speed.

The shift in position had sent a fresh jolt of electricity through Wanda’s over-sensitized nerves. Sitting atop Y/N, she felt every inch of the Alpha’s thickness stretching her wide, the weight of gravity making the connection feel permanent, inescapable. Wanda’s fingers dug into Y/N’s shoulders, her nails leaving shallow red crescents as she tried to find her balance in the storm. Her hair fell in a messy, dark curtain around their faces, her breath coming in short, panicked gasps.

"Y-Y/N, I'm still—" she choked out, her voice breaking as another ripple of aftershocks forced her internal walls to clench tight.

"I know," Y/N growled, the sound vibrating from her chest directly into Wanda’s. Y/N didn’t give her a second to recover. She gripped Wanda’s waist with bruising strength, her large hands nearly meeting around the Omega’s narrow middle, and began to lift and drop her. It was a brutal, punishing pace with a heavy wet thud every time Wanda’s hips hit Y/N’s thighs.

Wanda’s head fell back, her spine arching like a bow. The view from above was dizzying; she could see the way her own pale skin flushed deep red, the way Y/N’s eyes never left her, tracking every expression of pleasure and overwhelm. Each time Y/N drove upward, she hit the very back of Wanda’s throat with a silent scream, the friction against her swollen, sensitive core sending her right back into the peak.

"Look at me, my love," Y/N commanded, her voice a low rumble of Alpha authority. Wanda’s heavy lids fluttered open, her green eyes swimming with tears of pure sensation. She looked down, seeing the way they were fused together.

"You're... you're going to make me crazy,” Wanda sobbed, but she was already moving with her, her hips rolling in a desperate, circular motion to catch more of that searing heat.

"I'm going to mark you," Y/N corrected, her teeth baring in a feral grin as her own climax finally began to roar through her veins.

Y/N’s hands slid from Wanda’s waist to her thighs, pulling them wide and pinning them back so she could drive even deeper. The pace became frantic, a blur of skin and sweat and the sweet, heavy scent of an Omega being thoroughly claimed. Y/N’s breath hitched, her muscles cording until they looked like stone, and with one final, devastatingly deep thrust, she locked her arms around Wanda and held her tight, her own roar of release muffled against Wanda’s pulsing neck.

The air was thick with the scent of spent adrenaline and the heavy, sweet musk of a satisfied Omega. Y/N didn't let the distance last for more than a second; she rolled them back over, pinning Wanda into the soft mattress while remaining buried deep within her. Wanda’s body was a mess of beautiful tremors, her breath coming in broken, shallow sobs as the aftershocks of her second climax continued to ripple through her.

Slowly—agonizingly slowly—Y/N began to withdraw.

The sound was wet and heavy, a soft suction as the friction finally broke. Y/N stayed braced on her elbows, her gaze dropping to the space between Wanda’s legs as she pulled her knees further apart, exposing her completely.

"Look what you did," Y/N murmured, her voice a low, dark growl of pride. Y/N wasn't satisfied yet. 

She hovered over Wanda, her shadow draped over the Omega’s trembling form like a protective shroud. Y/N leaned down, her lips brushing against Wanda’s ear, sending a fresh jolt of electricity through her already over-sensitized nerves. She pressed a lingering, open-mouthed kiss to the pulse point in Wanda’s neck, tasting the salt of her sweat and the sweetness of her surrender.

“One more time, babe,” Y/N rasped against her skin, her voice dropping into that low, gravelly register that left no room for argument.

Wanda’s eyes, still hazy and unfocused from the previous peaks, fluttered open. She looked up at her Alpha, seeing the raw, unyielding hunger that still burned in Y/N’s gaze. Her body was a map of exhaustion and pleasure, her muscles feeling like lead, yet at the suggestion, a fresh wave of heat bloomed deep in her belly.

"Y/N... I'm so..." Wanda started, her voice a fragile thread, but she didn't finish the sentence. Instead, her legs, which had been resting weakly on the mattress, slowly slid back up Y/N’s sides. Her ankles crossed at the small of Y/N’s back, pulling her back into the cradle of her thighs.

"You're what?" Y/N murmured, pulling back just enough to capture Wanda’s gaze. She took her thumb, still coated in the evidence of their first rounds, and dragged it slowly across Wanda’s bottom lip, painting it with the slick heat.

"Do you want me to stop?" Y/N asked, her voice a low, vibrating hum that seemed to settle right in the marrow of Wanda's bones.

Wanda shook her head, the movement frantic against the pillow. "No," she breathed, the word carrying the weight of a thousand unspoken vows. "Never. Please."

Y/N’s expression softened, the fierce, possessive fire in her eyes banking into a warm, glowing ember of pure devotion. She didn't surge forward with the same primal urgency as before; instead, she leaned down and captured Wanda’s lips in a kiss that was achingly tender. It wasn't a demand, but a sanctuary. It tasted of salt, of sweetness, and of a bond that had been forged in battle and tempered in the quiet intimacy of their shared morning.

Wanda’s hands slid from Y/N’s chest to her neck, her fingers tangling in the hair at the nape of her head, pulling her closer as if trying to merge their very souls. As Y/N began to move again—a slow, deep, and deliberate rhythm that prioritized every sensation—Wanda let out a soft, broken sigh into the kiss.

---

An Hour Later

By the time Wanda finished her coffee, Y/N was already halfway through the plate.

Actually—no.

Not halfway. Nearly done.

Wanda leaned back against the headboard, blanket wrapped loosely around her bare body, one leg tucked beneath the other as she watched. Amused. Very amused.

Y/N sat beside the bed, only the sheet loosely draped around her waist—completely forgotten as she focused on the food. Her hair was still a mess, her skin still faintly flushed, and her chest completely bare as she leaned forward over the tray.

Focused. Determined. Absolutely devouring everything in front of her.

Wanda smirked into her mug. “Y/N…”

No response.

Y/N didn’t even look up.

“Y/N.”

A distracted hum this time.

Wanda shook her head, amused. “Slow down.”

That got her a glance. Just a quick one.

“I am,” Y/N said, completely serious—before immediately taking another bite.

Wanda raised an eyebrow. “You’re inhaling it.”

“I’m refueling,” Y/N corrected, already reaching for the next piece.

Wanda laughed softly, shaking her head as she took another sip of her coffee. “You’re unbelievable.”

Y/N just shrugged, unconcerned, finishing the last of what was on the plate before reaching for something else.

For a moment, Wanda just… watched her.

The way she relaxed now—fully, without that constant edge she used to carry. The way she ate without pretending she wasn’t hungry. The way she stayed close, even without realizing it—her knee brushing against the side of the bed, like she needed that contact.

Wanda’s expression softened.

“You really were hungry,” she murmured.

Y/N huffed lightly, finishing her bite before finally looking up at her properly. “I always am,” she said—but then her tone shifted, quieter, more genuine. “But… yours is different.”

Wanda tilted her head slightly. “Different how?”

Y/N leaned back just a little, resting her hand against the edge of the bed near Wanda’s leg.

“Better,” she said simply. “I love your food.” The words were easy—but they landed heavier than they sounded.

Wanda blinked, just for a second, caught off guard by how sincere it was.

“…Yeah?” she asked softly.

Y/N nodded, a faint smile pulling at her lips. “Yeah. You actually think about it. What I’d like. What I need.” She glanced down at the tray, then back at Wanda. “It’s not just food.”

Wanda’s chest warmed, something quiet and steady settling there.

“You’re saying I take care of you?” she teased lightly.

Y/N didn’t even hesitate. “You do.”

That wiped the teasing right off Wanda’s face. Her gaze softened again—deeper this time.

“Good,” she said, almost a whisper.

Y/N nudged her knee gently with her shoulder, grounding the moment before it got too heavy.

“Don’t let it go to your head,” she added.

Wanda smirked faintly. “Too late.”

Y/N rolled her eyes—but her hand slid up, resting briefly over Wanda’s through the blanket.

A quiet, steady touch. And she didn’t pull away.

---

After breakfast, Y/N took a quick shower and got dressed—nothing fancy, just something clean and comfortable. Wanda lingered in the room, stretched out on the bed with that same soft, content look she’d been wearing all morning, watching Y/N move around like she didn’t want to miss a second of it.

“I’ll be back after debrief,” Y/N said, stepping closer to press a quick kiss to Wanda’s lips.

Wanda smiled against it. “Don’t take too long.”

“I won’t,” Y/N promised, brushing her thumb along Wanda’s cheek before heading out.

---

Y/N pushed open the door to the debriefing room.

Clint, Sam, and Steve were already there.

Clint was halfway through a bottle of water, Sam leaned back in his chair like he owned the place, and Steve stood near the screen, flipping through mission data.

Y/N didn’t waste time.

“Let’s make this quick,” she said, moving to take a seat.

Sam immediately perked up, a grin spreading across his face. “Or else what?” he asked, glancing at Clint. “Maximoff’s gonna come looking for you?”

Y/N paused mid-step, turning her head just enough to fix Sam with a look.

“I know you’re jealous, Wilson,” she said calmly.

Clint let out a quiet “oh—” under his breath.

Y/N dropped into her chair, leaning back like she had all the time in the world now.

“But yeah,” she added, completely unbothered. “That would be accurate.”

Clint choked on his water.

“—What?” he coughed, wiping his mouth as he stared between them.

Sam blinked once, then leaned back further, shaking his head. “Oh, it’s like that now?”

Y/N just smirked faintly.

Steve, meanwhile, didn’t even look surprised. He cleared his throat, stepping forward slightly. “Alright,” he said, bringing the focus back. “Let’s get started.”

The screen lit up behind him as the debrief began.

Y/N leaned forward just slightly, attention shifting—but there was still that quiet ease in her posture now.

Like part of her was already somewhere else.

Somewhere down the hall. Waiting for her.

---

Wanda’s POV

Y/N was taking too long.

Wanda told herself it was just a debrief. That it always took time. That Steve liked to go over every detail at least twice.

Still—

Too long.

She sighed, pushing herself off the bed, fingers absently smoothing down her clothes before she headed out. Her steps were quiet at first… then a little faster the closer she got.

By the time she reached the debriefing room, she slowed. The door was slightly open. Wanda peeked in. Only two people inside.

Steve and Y/N. Which meant it was over.

So why was she still there?

Wanda’s lips pressed into a small pout before she could stop herself.

Before she even had the chance to knock—

Y/N noticed her.

Her head turned immediately, like she’d felt her there more than seen her. Their eyes met. And just like that, Y/N’s expression softened.

“Thanks, Steve,” Y/N said, already stepping away.

Steve gave a small nod, glancing briefly toward Wanda before turning back to whatever he’d been reviewing.

Y/N didn’t hesitate. She crossed the room in a few easy steps and stopped right in front of Wanda.

“Hey,” she said softly.

Wanda didn’t answer right away. She just looked at her.

Then—

Her pout deepened.

Y/N blinked once, then sighed quietly, a small, fond smile tugging at her lips. “Sorry,” she said, stepping closer. “Took longer than I thought.”

Wanda crossed her arms, leaning lightly against the doorframe. “Why were you still talking to Steve?” she asked.

Y/N tilted her head slightly. “Debrief—”

“No,” Wanda cut in softly, her pout still there. “After.”

Y/N paused.

Wanda’s eyes searched her face, something more vulnerable slipping through now.

“…Are you going on another mission?” she asked.

There it was. That part of her. The one that didn’t like distance. Didn’t like not knowing. Didn’t like the idea of Y/N walking away again.

Her pout deepened just a little more.

Y/N didn’t answer right away. Instead, she stepped forward, closing the space between them—and leaned in. Pressing a soft kiss right against Wanda’s pout.

Wanda froze for half a second. Then her lips softened under it.

When Y/N pulled back, she shook her head slightly. “No,” she said gently.

Wanda blinked, relief flickering—but she still looked at her, waiting.

Y/N’s thumb brushed lightly along her cheek.

“I was asking Steve for a leave,” she explained.

Wanda’s brows pulled together slightly—

And then her pout came back.

“…Leave?” she repeated.

Her voice softened.

“You’re leaving?”

There it was again. That quiet worry.

Y/N huffed a small laugh under her breath, shaking her head. “Of course not,” she said, amused.

Wanda frowned. “Then—”

“I got a leave for both of us.”

That made Wanda pause. Her expression shifted—confusion first, then curiosity.

“…Both of us?”

Y/N nodded, her hand sliding gently to Wanda’s waist.

“I don’t want you here for your heat,” she said, voice lower now, more thoughtful. “Not in the compound. Not with everyone around. Not with missions hanging over us.”

Wanda’s breath caught slightly.

Y/N’s gaze softened as she continued. “I want us somewhere else. Quiet. Just us.” A small pause. “When it happens… I want it to be ours.”

The meaning settled between them. Clear. Important.

Wanda’s cheeks flushed instantly.

Her eyes dropped for a second, a shy warmth replacing the earlier pout.

Her next heat.

When they would—

Her fingers curled lightly into Y/N’s shirt.

“…You thought about all that?” she asked softly.

Y/N smiled faintly. “Of course I did.”

Wanda looked back up at her.

And this time—

She smiled. Soft and a little flustered. But certain.

“I like that,” she admitted quietly.

Y/N’s expression softened even more, her thumb brushing along Wanda’s cheek again.

“Yeah?”

Wanda nodded.

“Yeah.”

And just like that—

The idea of what was coming didn’t feel overwhelming.

It felt right.

---

One month Later

Y/N’s POV

One month passed fast.

Y/N tightened her grip on the steering wheel just slightly as the cabin finally came into view through the trees.

Quiet. Secluded. Exactly what she wanted.

The lake stretched out just beyond it, water catching the light in soft ripples, and behind it—mountains. Tall, still, shielding the entire place from the rest of the world.

No missions.

No interruptions.

Just them.

Y/N exhaled slowly.

“Here,” she said.

Beside her, Wanda leaned forward slightly, eyes already scanning everything with quiet wonder.

“…You picked this?” she asked softly.

Y/N glanced at her, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “Yeah.”

Wanda didn’t say anything else. She didn’t need to.

A few minutes later, they stepped out of the car.

Y/N grabbed their bags easily, dropping them just inside the cabin without bothering to unpack yet. When she turned back—Wanda was already outside again. Standing near the edge of the clearing, looking out at the lake.

Taking it all in.

Y/N’s chest tightened just a little at the sight.

She walked up behind her quietly, arms sliding around Wanda’s waist, pulling her back into her.

Wanda leaned into it instantly.

Like she always did.

“Do you like it?” Y/N asked, her voice low, close to her ear.

Wanda smiled, resting back against her. “Yeah,” she said softly. “I really do.”

Y/N pressed a gentle kiss to her shoulder, lingering there for a second.

“Good,” she murmured.

For a moment, they just stood there. No rush. No noise. Just the sound of the water and the wind moving through the trees.

Then Y/N pulled back slightly.

“…You want to go swim?” she asked.

Wanda blinked, surprised—then laughed softly.

“Now?”

Y/N shrugged. “Why not?”

Wanda turned in her arms, eyes bright now.

“We didn’t even unpack.”

“Later.”

Wanda studied her for half a second—

Then smiled.

“Okay.”

The water was colder than it looked. Wanda gasped the second she stepped in, grabbing onto Y/N’s arm instinctively.

“It’s freezing!” she laughed.

Y/N huffed, wading in beside her like it was nothing. “You’ll get used to it.”

“I don’t believe you,” Wanda said, but she didn’t let go.

Y/N smirked faintly. “Give it a minute.”

Wanda narrowed her eyes at her—

Then splashed her.

Y/N blinked, water dripping down her face.

“…Really?”

Wanda grinned. And that was enough.

Y/N reached for her, pulling her closer as Wanda laughed, trying—and failing—to escape.

The cold didn’t matter after that.

Not really.

They stayed in the water longer than they meant to, drifting, laughing, settling into something easy and light.

No weight. No pressure.

Just time.

Just them.

And for once—

That was enough.

---

Later that Night

Y/N woke suddenly.

Not to a sound.

Not to movement.

To heat.

It wrapped around her first—thick, heavy, unmistakable. Her body tensed instinctively, awareness snapping into place as something deeper stirred low in her gut.

Then she felt it. Pressure.

A tight, aching pull in her core that hadn’t been there when she fell asleep. Her breath slowed.

“…Wanda.”

Y/N’s eyes opened. The room was dark, the faint glow of moonlight spilling in through the window—but she didn’t need light to know.

She could feel it. And smell it.

Wanda’s omega pheromones had shifted.

No longer soft. No longer calm.

They filled the air now—sweet, heavy, and pulsing with heat. It clung to Y/N’s skin, wrapped around her senses, sank straight into her instincts like a spark to dry kindling.

It had started.

Y/N turned immediately.

Wanda was there, beside her—but different. Her breathing was uneven, shallow, lips parted slightly as soft, strained exhales slipped past them. Her body shifted restlessly against the sheets, like she couldn’t get comfortable.

Y/N moved closer without hesitation, one arm sliding around Wanda’s waist, pulling her in against her. Wanda melted into it instantly like she’d been waiting. Her body pressed flush against Y/N’s, heat radiating from her skin, her breath hitching as she buried herself closer.

Y/N tightened her hold, grounding. “I’ve got you,” she murmured softly.

She leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to Wanda’s cheek—slow, reassuring.

“My love…”

Wanda made a soft, broken sound at that. Her eyes fluttered open—glassy, unfocused, already lost in that haze. Her brows pulled together slightly as she looked at Y/N, like she was trying to anchor herself there.

“Y/N…” she whimpered quietly.

Y/N’s chest tightened.

She brushed her thumb gently along Wanda’s cheek.

“Is it starting?” she asked softly—even though she already knew.

Wanda nodded.

Small. Unsteady.

Her fingers curled into Y/N’s shirt, pulling herself closer, like distance wasn’t something she could tolerate anymore.

“It hurts,” Wanda whispered, voice trembling.

Y/N shifted immediately, pulling her closer, one hand sliding up to cradle the back of her head, guiding her gently into the crook of her neck.

“I know,” she murmured. “I’ve got you.”

Wanda buried herself there, breathing her in like she needed it to survive, her body pressing tighter, searching for relief, for grounding, for her. 

Y/N’s instincts surged—but she held them steady. Controlled but present.

Her nose brushed lightly along Wanda’s temple as she exhaled slowly, keeping herself anchored.

“You’re okay,” she whispered. “You’re safe. We’re right here.”

Wanda let out another soft, needy sound, her body curling closer still, legs tangling with Y/N’s, trying to close any space left between them.

Y/N tightened her hold just enough to meet it—firm, protective, but careful.

The air in the bedroom had become an ocean of thick, intoxicating pheromones, making every breath Y/N took feel like she was inhaling Wanda’s very essence. Beneath the sheets, the heat was astronomical. Y/N could feel her own length, already stone-hard and pulsing with a heavy, demanding ache, pressing firmly against Wanda’s thigh. It was an instinctive response to the scent of an omega, her omega, in the first true throes of a natural heat—a biological lock and key snapping into place.

Y/N’s hand, splayed wide across the small of Wanda’s back, pulled her flush against her. The contact was electric. The second their bodies fully connected, Wanda let out a long, shuddering moan that vibrated against Y/N’s chest. Her head fell back, her neck arching as she looked up at Y/N through the dark. Her pupils blown wide with a need that went far beyond the physical.

"Y/N... please," Wanda whispered, her voice a ragged, broken thread of sound. "It’s... it’s so much."

"I know, sweetheart," Y/N rasped, her own voice dropping into that low, gravelly Alpha tone that vibrated with protective authority. "I’m right here. I’m not letting go."

Y/N leaned down, her shadow falling over Wanda’s face just before their lips met. The kiss wasn't like the ones before—it wasn't a greeting or a teasing promise. It was a claim. It was deep, hungry, and tasted of the heat rising between them. Y/N’s tongue swept into Wanda’s mouth, claiming her with a desperate intensity that Wanda met with equal fervor, her hands coming up to clutch at Y/N’s hair, pulling her down as if she wanted to merge their very souls.

As they kissed, Y/N’s hand began to wander, sliding down from Wanda’s waist to the curve of her hip. She could feel the way Wanda’s skin was slick with a light sheen of sweat, her body radiating a feverish warmth. Wanda’s legs tangled more tightly with Y/N’s, her hips giving a small, instinctive tilt upward—searching for the hard, blunt pressure of Y/N’s hardness, needing the grounding weight of her Alpha to anchor her in the rising storm of her heat.

Y/N broke the kiss just an inch, her breathing harsh and uneven against Wanda’s lips. "You're so hot, Wanda," she murmured, her nose brushing against Wanda's. "You smell... incredible."

Wanda whimpered, a soft, needy sound that broke in the back of her throat. "Make it stop," she pleaded, her hips twitching again. "The aching... Y/N, make it stop."

Y/N’s grip tightened, her Alpha instincts roaring at the plea. She moved her hand lower, her fingers brushing the top of Wanda’s thigh, moving toward the center of that radiating heat. "I've got you," Y/N promised, her eyes burning gold in the moonlight. "I'm going to take care of you."

Y/N leaned in, capturing Wanda’s mouth in another deep, possessive kiss that tasted of salt and desperate need. While their tongues tangled, Y/N’s hand moved with purpose, hooking into the waistband of Wanda’s soft shorts. She didn’t hesitate, peeling them down over Wanda’s hips and down her slender thighs, discarding them somewhere into the shadows of the cabin floor.

Wanda was already drenched. The thick, floral scent of her omega slick was intoxicating, a physical invitation that Y/N’s Alpha couldn't ignore. The moment her skin was bared to the cool cabin air, Wanda’s instincts took over; her legs fell open wide, her knees flaring outward in a silent, vulnerable plea for the contact she was dying for.

Y/N broke the kiss only to trail her lips down Wanda’s jaw to her ear, whispering low promises as she shifted. With a gentle but firm strength, she maneuvered Wanda onto her back, centering her on the soft mattress. The rest of Wanda’s clothes followed the shorts—her top pulled over her head and tossed aside until she was completely bare, her skin glowing like ivory in the moonlight. She looked like she was melting into the sheets, her back arching slightly, her chest heaving as her lungs struggled to keep up with the rising fever of her heat.

“You’re so ready for me,” Y/N growled, her voice thick with a dark, primal hunger.

Y/N didn’t waste a second. She sat back on her heels, her fingers working with a frantic efficiency to rid herself of her own clothes. Her shirt was yanked off and dropped, followed quickly by her sweatpants and boxers. The moment the fabric fell away, her cock sprang free, heavy and throbbing with a dark, insistent pulse. It was thick, engorged by the sheer volume of Wanda’s pheromones filling the room.

Wanda’s eyes tracked the movement, her gaze dropping to the sight of Y/N’s arousal. Her breath hitched, a soft, high-pitched whimper escaping her as she wiggled her hips against the mattress, her legs spreading even wider. She was restless, her heels digging into the bed as she tried to bridge the small gap between them, her entire body trembling with the sheer force of a heat that only Y/N could quench.

“Y/N… please,” Wanda sobbed, her hand reaching out to grab Y/N’s wrist, pulling her back down. “Now. I need you now.”

Y/N let out a low, guttural growl that vibrated deep in her chest, the sound echoing the raw, predatory hunger of her Alpha. She was teetering on the edge herself, her vision swimming with the scent of Wanda’s arousal and the sight of her Omega laid bare and pleading beneath her. She shook her head sharply, trying to maintain just a shred of clarity, but the primal pull was too strong.

Moving forward with a slow, deliberate grace, Y/N braced her weight on one hand while the other reached down. Her fingers wrapped around the base of her length, guiding the broad, throbbing head against Wanda’s soaking entrance. The contact was electric; the moment the hot, slick skin met, a jolt of pure fire shot through both of them.

Wanda’s head thrashed against the pillow, her hips wiggling and tilting upward in a desperate, instinctive attempt to usher Y/N inside. "Please... Alpha... please," she choked out, her scarlet eyes glowing with a feral intensity.

Y/N didn't make her wait a second longer. She surged forward, the distance between them vanishing. She didn't stop halfway; she drove all the way in, her hips slamming against Wanda.

The impact was cataclysmic. The sudden, total fullness was more than Wanda’s over-sensitized nerves could handle. Her body went rigid, her back arching so high her shoulder blades barely touched the bed. A long, shattered scream tore from her throat as her first climax hit her with the force of a tidal wave the very moment Y/N seated herself. Her internal walls, already soft and sensitive from the heat, clamped down on Y/N with a bruising, rhythmic violence, milking her length in frantic, desperate pulses.

Y/N let out a choked sound of her own, burying her face in the crook of Wanda’s neck, her teeth grazing the sensitive skin near the scent gland. She stayed buried to the hilt, her muscles cording as she felt the literal waves of Wanda’s pleasure crashing against her, marking the beginning of their long, secluded week of heat.

The air in the cabin seemed to ignite, the scent of Wanda’s climax—a sudden, sharp spike of honeyed ozone—filling Y/N’s lungs and driving her deeper into the Alpha haze. Wanda’s body was a live wire beneath her, shaking with the intensity of a release that felt like it was tearing through her very soul.

Y/N didn’t move for a long moment, allowing the initial, violent tremors of Wanda’s internal walls to settle into a deep, rhythmic throb around her. She was buried so deep she could feel the frantic racing of Wanda’s heart through their joined bodies.

"I've got you," Y/N rasped against Wanda’s skin, her voice a low, possessive rumble. "Breath, sweetheart. Just breathe for me."

Wanda’s hands were locked onto Y/N’s shoulders, her nails drawing shallow lines in her skin as she tried to find her bearings. As the peak of the orgasm slowly ebbed, leaving her in a dazed, hyper-sensitive state, her legs—still hooked high around Y/N’s waist—tightened their hold. The heat wasn't gone; it had simply shifted from a sharp ache to a heavy, pulsing demand.

"Don't... don't stop," Wanda managed to whisper, her eyes fluttering open to reveal the most beautiful green Y/N have ever seen. "Y/N, I need... I need more."

Y/N pulled back slowly, the sound of their slick bodies parting wet and heavy in the quiet room. She withdrew until only the crown of her heat remained within Wanda, feeling the way the Omega’s muscles chased after her, reaching out to pull her back.

Then, with a low growl, Y/N drove back in. This time, the rhythm was relentless. Y/N braced her weight on her palms, her arms cording as she established a pace that was both grounding and punishing. Each thrust was deep and deliberate, the sound of their hips meeting a steady, rhythmic slap that echoed off the wooden walls.

Wanda’s head thrashed from side to side, her moans turning into a litany of soft, broken sounds. With every downward strike, Y/N watched the way Wanda’s breasts moved, the way her flushed skin glistened with sweat, and the way her pupils remained blown wide with total surrender.

The natural heat had made Wanda’s core even softer, even more welcoming than before. She felt like molten silk, her body molding itself perfectly to Y/N’s shape. As the friction built, the sweet, heavy musk of the heat intensified, weaving around them until Y/N could no longer tell where her own scent ended and Wanda’s began.

"You're mine," Y/N growled, leaning down to capture Wanda’s lips again, her hips never stuttering in their heavy, driving work. "Everything about you... is mine."

Wanda’s only response was a high, needy keen, her hips rising to meet every strike, her soul opening up just as wide as her body for the Alpha she loved.

Y/N broke the kiss just enough to hover over Wanda’s lips, their breaths mingling in hot, jagged hitches. The Alpha’s eyes were no longer just Y/E/C; they were molten, fixed on Wanda with a terrifyingly beautiful focus.

"I’m going to mark you tonight," Y/N rasped, the words vibrating with the weight of a blood-promise. "Everyone will know whose you are. I’m going to leave my scent so deep in you that you won't be able to think of anything else."

The declaration hit Wanda like a physical blow. Her core gave a violent, involuntary clench, her internal walls gripping Y/N with a desperate, milking pressure that nearly brought the Alpha to her knees. A long, broken moan tore from Wanda's throat, her head falling back as her fingers tangled into the roots of Y/N’s hair, pulling her closer, demanding the weight. Her other hand acted on pure, frenzied instinct, her nails dragging down Y/N’s bicep, leaving stinging red trails that only fueled the fire in the room.

"Yes!" Wanda cried out, her voice cracking with the sheer force of her need. "Yes, Alpha... please. Mark me. Claim me. I want everyone to smell you on me. I want to be yours."

The surrender in her voice was the final spark. Y/N’s restraint shattered into a thousand pieces. She gripped Wanda’s hips, her fingers digging into the soft skin to anchor her, and increased the pace until it was a blurring, rhythmic assault.

The sound of their bodies meeting became a frantic, wet thudding, echoing the raw power of the heat. Y/N began to growl with every downward drive, her teeth baring as she looked down at the woman who was opening herself up so completely. Wanda’s legs were wrapped so tightly around Y/N’s waist that they were practically fused together, her hips rolling and bucking to meet every heavy, soul-deep thrust.

The scent of the room changed—shifting from the sweet floral of the initial heat to something sharper, darker, and more possessive. Y/N leaned down, her nose dragging along Wanda's neck, hovering over the sensitive scent gland there, her breathing coming in harsh, predatory stabs as she prepared to make her words a reality.

The growl wasn't just in Y/N’s throat anymore; it was a physical vibration echoing through her entire skull, a primal command from the Alpha deep within that drowned out every other thought. Mine. Protect. Mark. The internal voice was a roar now, demanding that she seal the bond they had been building for months.

Every heavy, thrust into Wanda’s soaked heat felt like it was carving Y/N’s signature into her soul. Wanda was a mess of scarlet energy and slick skin beneath her, her head thrashing against the pillow as she chanted that one word like a prayer. "Alpha... Alpha, please... my Alpha..."

The sound of her name—of her title—was the final tether snapping.

Y/N’s pace became frantic, a blurring, desperate rhythm that pushed Wanda higher and higher. Y/N leaned down, her breasts crushing Wanda’s heaving breasts, and began to drag her tongue along the side of Wanda’s neck. She licked the skin right over the pulsing scent gland, tasting the salt of Wanda’s sweat and the sweetness of her omega pheromones.

The moment the wet heat of Y/N’s tongue met that sensitive spot, Wanda began to tremble violently. It wasn't just the pleasure; it was the realization of what was coming. Her legs locked around Y/N’s waist with bruising strength, her heels digging into Y/N’s lower back to pull her even deeper, to make the connection absolute.

"Do it," Wanda sobbed into Y/N’s ear, her voice broken and raw. "Mark me, Y/N. I'm ready. I'm yours."

Y/N’s pupils dilated until her eyes were twin pits of black. She could feel the pressure building in her jaw, her Alpha instincts centering entirely on that soft, vulnerable patch of skin. She nipped at the area first, her teeth grazing the surface in a terrifyingly tender warning, causing Wanda to let out a sharp, needy keen.

Below, their bodies were moving in a perfect, frantic harmony, the friction reaching a searing point. Y/N’s hand slid up to cup the side of Wanda’s face, her thumb stroking over her lip, while her other arm hooked under Wanda’s lower back to lift her hips higher, meeting the heavy, final drives of her length.

The air in the cabin was so thick with their scents it was suffocating. Y/N’s growl deepened, a low, vibrating hum that seemed to rattle the very bedframes. She hovered her open mouth over the gland, her breath hot and smelling of the dark, woody musk of an Alpha about to claim her mate for eternity.

The atmosphere in the cabin reached a blistering breaking point as Y/N felt the base of her hardness begin to throb and expand.

Driven by the roar of her Alpha, Y/N didn't hesitate. As the knot surged, she leaned down and sank her teeth into the sensitive skin of Wanda’s neck, right over the pulsing scent gland.

Wanda’s world exploded. The sharp, stinging bite was immediately followed by a rush of something transcendent. The pain was there, but it was drowned in an ocean of pure, soul-deep pleasure. As Y/N’s teeth broke the skin, a psychic and biological bridge snapped into place. Wanda felt Y/N’s Alpha pheromones flood her system, mixing with her own sweet scent to create a new, singular fragrance that labeled her as claimed. The connection was so intense it was physical—she could feel Y/N’s heart, her possessiveness, and her love all at once.

The sheer intensity of being marked sent Wanda spiraling over the edge. Her body seized, her internal walls clamping down on the growing knot in a rhythmic, desperate frenzy. She screamed into the room, her voice a mix of agony and ecstasy as her climax tore through her.

Y/N didn't stop. Even with her teeth buried in Wanda’s neck, she continued to move, her hips hammering against Wanda’s with frantic, heavy jolts. She could feel her own release building, a tidal wave of heat that she couldn't contain. With one final, guttural growl that vibrated through Wanda’s entire frame, Y/N slammed her hips forward locking into Wanda’s heat. In that second, Y/N felt the world narrow down to this one woman. The bond was sealed; Wanda was her Omega, her mate, her everything.

The room fell into a heavy, ringing silence, broken only by their ragged, synchronized breathing.

Y/N slowly released her hold on Wanda’s neck. She pulled back just enough to see the jagged, red mark she had left—a permanent brand of her love. Instinctively, Y/N leaned down, her tongue darting out to lick the small beads of blood away. Her Alpha saliva, rich with healing enzymes and her unique scent, acted instantly, the bleeding stopping as the mark began to settle into a deep, bruised violet.

She pressed a tender kiss to the fresh mark, her hands shaking slightly from the comedown of the adrenaline. Below, they were still firmly locked together, a physical anchor that ensured neither could pull away.

Wanda was draped across the mattress like silk, her limbs heavy and trembling with the sheer weight of the bond that had just been forged. Even though the initial explosion of her climax had passed, her body wasn't finished. The fresh mark on her neck acted like a live wire, sending constant, buzzing signals of Y/N’s presence directly into her nervous system.

Every time Y/N’s chest rumbled with a low, grounding purr, Wanda’s internal muscles gave another frantic, helpless squeeze around the knot. She was trapped in a loop of micro-orgasms—short, sharp bursts of pleasure that made her toes curl and her breath hitch in small, broken gasps.

"Y/N... oh, god... stop," Wanda whimpered, her eyes rolled back into her head. "Everything... it’s too much... I can’t stop."

Y/N heard the distress beneath the pleasure and immediately went still. She braced her weight on her forearms, keeping her body as motionless as possible to avoid any unnecessary friction against Wanda’s over-sensitized walls. Her own heart was still thudding like a war drum, but she forced her muscles to relax, turning her focus entirely on her mate’s comfort.

A deep, resonant vibration started in the center of Y/N’s chest—a true Alpha’s rumble. It wasn't the predatory growl from moments ago; it was a low-frequency hum designed to soothe, to stabilize, and to communicate safety.

"Shh, I’ve got you," Y/N murmured, her voice vibrating against Wanda’s temple. "Just breathe with me, sweetheart. Focus on my scent. Nothing else."

As Y/N’s chest rumbled against Wanda’s, the Alpha’s pheromones began to shift. The sharp, aggressive scent of the hunt mellowed into a thick, protective cloud of sandalwood and rain. It acted like a sedative, wrapping around Wanda and telling her instincts that the "threat" was over—that she was claimed, protected, and home.

Wanda’s fingers, which had been spasmodically clutching the sheets, slowly found Y/N’s arms. She clung to her, her head tucking into the crook of Y/N’s shoulder as she fought to regulate her breathing. The micro-orgasms began to slow, turning from sharp stabs into long, low throbs of warmth that radiated out from their joined centers.

In the quiet of the cabin, with only the sound of the wind in the trees outside, they stayed perfectly still—fused together by biology and soul, waiting for the storm to fully pass so they could finally rest in the peace they had earned.

The silence that followed was heavy and sweet, filled only with the rhythmic sound of their synchronized breathing. Y/N remained perfectly still for a long time, her chin resting on Wanda’s shoulder, her chest continuing that low, protective rumble until she felt the tension finally bleed out of Wanda’s limbs. Slowly, the intense internal pressure began to ease. The knot, which had held them in a literal, biological lock, finally started to subside. As it shrunk, the physical anchor loosened, and Y/N began the painstaking process of withdrawing.

She moved with agonizing slowness, careful not to jostle the bed or trigger another flare of sensitivity in Wanda’s core. The sound of their parting was a soft, wet slip—a final, intimate echo of the night. As she fully exited, the pooled warmth of their mingled fluids spilled onto the sheets, a messy but beautiful testament to the claim she had just laid.

Y/N sat back on her heels for a moment, her breath hitching as the cool air hit her skin, but her eyes never left her Omega. 

Wanda was out. The sheer intensity of the marking, combined with the heat and the multiple climaxes, had finally pulled her under into a deep, restorative sleep. Her head was tilted to the side, her lips slightly parted, and her hair was a dark, tangled halo against the white pillows.

Y/N’s gaze drifted to the mark on Wanda’s neck. It was already beginning to settle—a deep, flushed violet blossom that looked like a rose petal pressed against her skin. It was vibrant and clear, the mark of a bond that would now radiate Y/N’s scent to anyone who came near.

A surge of fierce, protective love swelled in Y/N’s chest. She reached for the discarded blanket at the foot of the bed and pulled it up, draping it gently over Wanda’s bare, shivering shoulders. Then, moving with the quiet grace of a predator turned guardian, Y/N climbed back into the bed. She didn't seek to wake her; she simply curled her body around Wanda’s back, pulling her close so that their heartbeats could find that same steady rhythm once more.

Wanda let out a tiny, unconscious hum of contentment in her sleep, her body curving instinctively back into Y/N’s heat. Y/N closed her eyes, burying her nose in the back of Wanda’s neck, right next to the new mark.

She was home. They were one. And for the first time in a long time, the world outside the cabin ceased to exist.

---

Few Hours Later

Wanda’s POV

The cabin was bathed in the soft, blue-gray light of the early pre-dawn hours. Wanda’s eyes snapped open, her breath hitching as a second wave of heat surged through her—this one sharper, more focused, and burning with an intensity she hadn't felt before.

The marking had changed everything. It wasn't just a general, biological need anymore; it was a targeted, soul-deep craving for the specific Alpha whose scent was now permanently woven into her own. Her body felt sensitized to the point of pain, her skin humming with a restless energy that demanded contact.

She shifted, her gaze falling on Y/N, who was still deeply asleep beside her. But even in sleep, Y/N’s body was responding to the bond. The air was thick with a new, heavier scent—darker than before, smelling of cedar and salt. Y/N’s rut was being triggered early, her biology racing to match Wanda’s heat now that they were marked.

Wanda didn’t hesitate. Driven by a primal hunger, she crawled over, straddling Y/N’s hips. She felt the heavy, throbbing heat of Y/N’s hardness already straining against her thigh, rock-hard even in unconsciousness.

Wanda let out a low, shaky moan, her head falling back as she lowered herself just enough to press her soaking-wet core directly against Y/N’s length. She began to grind downward, a slow, desperate slide that smeared her slick along Y/N’s skin.

The reaction was instantaneous. Y/N’s eyes flew open, the irises already glowing a fierce, predatory gold. A deep, guttural growl ripped from her throat—a sound of pure Alpha instinct answering the call of its mate. Her hands snapped up, her fingers digging into Wanda’s waist with a possessive grip that left no room for doubt.

"Wanda..." Y/N rasped, her voice a raw, vibrating rumble.

"Again," Wanda breathed, her eyes glowing scarlet as she leaned forward, her hair brushing against Y/N’s face. "I need you again. Right now."

Y/N’s grip tightened, her pupils dilating as the scent of Wanda’s renewed heat hit her like a physical blow. The rut was taking hold, flooding her system with a protective, driving need to claim her Omega all over again. Without a word, Y/N surged upward, meeting Wanda’s desperate rhythm with a powerful tilt of her hips, the friction of their bodies sparking a fire that promised to burn through the rest of the night.

The air in the cabin was thick enough to taste, saturated with the heavy, sweet scent of Wanda’s heat and the dark, musky ozone of Y/N’s emerging rut. Wanda let out a high, fractured moan as Y/N’s hands slid from her waist to her thighs, the Alpha’s grip bruisingly firm as she anchored her Omega.

Y/N surged upward, capturing Wanda’s lips in a kiss that was less of a greeting and more of a collision. It was desperate and hungry, their tongues tangling with a frantic energy that mirrored the pulse of their joined heartbeats. While their mouths were fused, Y/N’s large hands moved to Wanda’s hips, lifting her just enough to create space.

Wanda didn’t need to be told what to do. Her fingers, trembling with the force of her second wave, reached down between their bodies. She found the head of Y/N’s member—already weeping with pre-scent and throbbing with the force of the rut—and guided it to her soaking entrance. The moment the tip touched her, Wanda let out a sob of pure relief and sat down hard.

Y/N’s head snapped back against the pillow, a deep, primal growl ripping from her chest as she was buried to the hilt in one singular, devastating motion. The feeling was staggering; Wanda’s internal walls were even hotter than before, pulsing with a new, frantic rhythm that seemed to demand everything Y/N had to give.

Wanda didn't give either of them a second to adjust. She immediately began to bounce, her hips moving in a relentless, vertical rhythm that sent wet, slapping echoes throughout the quiet room. Her hands stayed locked on Y/N’s shoulders, her nails digging in as she used the Alpha as an anchor, her head thrashing from side to side.

"Yes... yes, Alpha," Wanda whimpered, her voice a broken, needy thread.

Y/N’s hands moved back to Wanda’s waist, her thumbs digging into the soft skin as she began to thrust upward to meet every downward strike. The pace was frantic, fueled by the raw, unyielding power of the rut. Every time they bottomed out, the mark on Wanda’s neck seemed to pulse in time with their movements, a violet brand that glowed in the dim light. Y/N was losing herself to the haze, her only focus the wet, sliding heat of her Omega and the desperate need to fill her until she couldn't take any more.

The air in the cabin was thick with the scent of an Alpha in the beginning of a rut—a heavy, intoxicating musk of cedar and darkened spice that made Wanda’s head swim. She was driven by an instinct that surpassed the physical; she didn't just want to be claimed anymore; she needed to stake her own claim, to weave her scent so deeply into Y/N that the bond would be a two-way street of absolute belonging.

While her hips continued their relentless, vertical assault, Wanda leaned forward, her chest crushing against Y/N’s heaving torso. She trailed hot, open-mouthed kisses along Y/N’s jawline, her breath hitching every time she felt Y/N’s legnth hit the very back of her heat.

Finally, she found it—the pulsing scent gland at the base of Y/N’s neck.

Wanda let out a low, feral sound, her green eyes glowing with a terrifying beauty. She licked the spot first, her tongue dragging over the skin to prepare it, tasting the salt and the raw Alpha pheromones that were currently flooding the room. Beneath her, Y/N’s growl turned into a choked sound of surprise and desire, her hands tightening on Wanda’s hips until her knuckles were white.

"Wanda..." Y/N warned, her voice a gravelly, base-heavy rumble, but she didn't pull away. Instead, she arched her neck, offering herself up, her own rut-driven instincts demanding this surrender to her mate.

Wanda didn't hesitate. She nipped at the skin first, her teeth grazing the surface as her hips bucked harder, the friction below reaching a fever pitch. Then, with a sudden, sharp intake of breath, she sank her teeth in.

The bite was deep and possessive. Y/N let out a loud, pained roar that quickly dissolved into a groan of pure, unadulterated ecstasy. As Wanda’s teeth broke the skin, the bond between them solidified into something unbreakable. Wanda felt the rush of Y/N’s Alpha essence pouring into her, while her own Omega pheromones flooded Y/N’s system through the mark. It was a psychic explosion; for a moment, they weren't two people, but one singular pulse of energy.

Wanda didn't let go, her mouth staying clamped onto Y/N’s neck as she continued to bounce, her internal walls clamping down on Y/N in a frantic, celebratory rhythm. She was marking her Alpha, branding the woman she loved with her own scent, ensuring that for the rest of their lives, Y/N would carry the unmistakable trace of Wanda Maximoff in her very skin.

The pleasure was overwhelming, a feedback loop of sensation that pushed them both toward a crashing, synchronized peak. Below, the wet, rhythmic slapping of their bodies was the only sound in the room, a primal drumbeat to the finalization of their soul-bond.

---

Four Days Later

Y/N’s POV

Y/N woke slowly.

Not abruptly like before—no sharp instinct pulling her up, no fire racing through her veins.

Just… warmth. Heavy, deep, settling warmth.

And soreness.

God—she was sore.

Every muscle ached in that dull, lived-in way that came after days of… not resting at all.

But she smiled. Immediately.

Because she felt it.

The bond.

It wasn’t loud. It wasn’t overwhelming anymore. It was… constant. Steady. Like a second heartbeat woven into her own.

Her Omega.

Y/N opened her eyes. Wanda was sprawled across her—half on top of her chest, half tangled in her arms and legs like she had no intention of ever leaving. Y/N’s hand instinctively came up, resting at Wanda’s back, fingers spreading there gently.

Warm.

Real.

Yours.

Her gaze drifted to Wanda’s neck.

The mark.

Deep violet now, settled into her skin like it had always belonged there. It pulsed faintly—not physically, but in the way Y/N felt it. A quiet hum that connected them, anchored them.

Mine.

Y/N exhaled softly.

“…Yeah,” she murmured under her breath.

Her eyes lifted, finally taking in the room properly.

And—yeah.

It looked like a hurricane had passed through. Sheets twisted beyond recognition, half hanging off the bed. Clothes scattered in every direction. One of the pillows—completely destroyed—feathers everywhere, clinging to the floor, the bed, even stuck to Wanda’s hair.

Y/N huffed a quiet laugh. “We really—” she muttered, glancing around again. “Yeah… that tracks.”

Her hand moved absently, brushing a stray feather from Wanda’s shoulder.

Wanda stirred. Just slightly at first. A soft sound left her—half sigh, half hum—as she shifted against Y/N, pressing closer instead of pulling away.

Y/N’s attention snapped back to her instantly.

Everything else—Gone.

“Hey…” Y/N murmured, voice softer now.

Wanda’s eyes fluttered open slowly.

Still a little hazy. Still warm. But clear. Grounded.

Her gaze found Y/N’s almost immediately—and softened.

There it was. That look.

The one that always got her.

“…Hi,” Wanda whispered, voice rough from sleep.

Y/N smiled, brushing her thumb gently along Wanda’s side.

“Hi.”

For a second, neither of them moved. Just looking at each other. Breathing the same air. Feeling the same quiet connection settle between them.

Then Wanda shifted slightly, her head lifting just enough to rest her chin on Y/N’s chest. Her fingers slid up slowly, tracing along Y/N’s collarbone—then higher. Until they reached her neck.

Y/N stilled.

Wanda’s touch was gentle.

Reverent. Her fingers brushed over the mark she’d left there.

Wanda smiled. Soft. Warm. Completely at peace.

Her thumb traced over it again, slower this time—like she was memorizing it, like she still couldn’t quite believe it was real.

Y/N didn’t move. She just watched her.

Really watched her.

The way Wanda’s expression softened, the quiet happiness in her eyes, the calm that had replaced all the chaos from before—

It hit something deep in Y/N’s chest.

“…You regret it?” Y/N asked lightly, a teasing edge in her voice that didn’t quite hide how closely she was watching her reaction.

Wanda’s gaze snapped back to her immediately.

And she shook her head.

“No.”

Simple but certain.

Her hand slid up, cupping Y/N’s face gently, thumb brushing along her cheek.

“I never imagined…” Wanda admitted softly, her voice thoughtful, almost a little awed. “That I would be marked by an Alpha.”

Y/N’s expression shifted slightly—something quieter, more vulnerable flickering there.

Wanda smiled faintly. “But I’m glad I am.” Her thumb brushed once more over the mark on Y/N’s neck.

“I’m happy,” she continued, voice warm, steady, “that I’m marked… and that I got to mark my Alpha.”

Her eyes met Y/N’s again.

“My fated Alpha.”

That did something to Y/N.

Something deep.

Wanda leaned in, pressing a soft, lingering peck to her lips.

“I love you,” she murmured.

Y/N’s hand slid up Wanda’s back, pulling her just a little closer as she breathed her in.

“I love you too,” she whispered back.

When they pulled apart—

Wanda blinked.

Her gaze drifted past Y/N’s shoulder.

And then—

She froze.

“…Oh.”

Y/N huffed softly. “Yeah.”

Wanda pushed herself up slightly, the blanket slipping as she looked around properly this time.

The room was—

Destroyed.

Feathers everywhere. Sheets twisted beyond saving. Clothes scattered like they’d been thrown in a storm. One pillow completely torn open, its contents decorating half the cabin.

Wanda’s eyes widened.

“…We did this?” she asked, half incredulous, half amused.

Y/N smirked faintly, stretching slightly despite the soreness.

“We did that,” she corrected.

Wanda looked back at her, a slow smile spreading across her face.

“…Worth it.”

Y/N snorted quietly.

“Absolutely.”

---