danny

the bullpen of the daily planet buzzed with the usual chaos—phones ringing, keyboards clacking, and reporters shouting across the room for coffee or a quote. you, the bright-eyed intern, navigated the madness with a stack of research files clutched to your chest, your sneakers squeaking faintly on the polished floor. your official job was fetching coffee, organizing archives, and fact-checking for the senior reporters, but lately, you’d been spending more time dodging knowing glances than filing papers.

lois lane, the planet’s star reporter, leaned against her desk, her sharp eyes scanning a draft on her screen. her dark hair was pulled back in a messy bun, a pencil tucked behind her ear, and her blouse was just wrinkled enough to suggest she’d been up all night chasing a lead. to everyone else, she was the untouchable, pulitzer-winning journalist—fearless, relentless, and perpetually unimpressed. to you? she was the woman who’d kissed you senseless in the supply closet last week, her hands tugging at your shirt while whispering, “we can’t keep doing this.”

spoiler: you were definitely still doing this.

it started innocently enough. you’d been assigned to assist lois on a high-profile investigation into metropolis’ underbelly—a corruption scandal involving city officials. you’d stayed late one night, pouring over documents together, when her hand brushed yours. then her eyes lingered a little too long. one thing led to another, and now, three months later, you were sneaking around like a couple of teenagers, stealing moments in empty conference rooms and exchanging coded texts about “urgent story updates.”

today though, you were struggling to keep it subtle. you set a fresh coffee on her desk, sugar almost filled to the brim, just the way she liked it, your fingers grazing hers as you handed her a file she’d asked for. her lips twitched into a smirk, barely noticeable, but enough to make your stomach flip.

“thanks, kid,” she said, her voice low, teasing. The nickname was her cover—everyone thought she saw you as just the eager intern. but the way her eyes flicked to your lips for a split second told a different story.

“no problem, ms. lane,” you replied, playing along, though your cheeks felt warm. you turned to leave, but not before catching jimmy olsen’s raised eyebrow from across the room. he was at his desk, pretending to adjust his camera, but you knew he was watching. jimmy had been dropping hints lately—little comments like, “you’re spending a lot of time with lois, huh?”—and you were pretty sure he was onto you.

the rest of the newsroom wasn’t far behind. clark kent, ever the oblivious farm boy, hadn’t noticed (or so you hoped), but perry white had barked at you both last week for “wasting time” when he caught you lingering too close during a meeting. and then there was cat grant, who’d cornered you in the break room yesterday, smirking as she asked, “sooo, how’s it going with lois? you two seem.. cozy.” you’d stammered something about mentorship and bolted.

it didn’t help that lois wasn’t exactly subtle. she’d call you over to her desk for the smallest things—fixing a comma in her article, grabbing a random file, or “helping” with a source you both knew she didn’t need. each time, her fingers would brush yours, or she’d lean in just close enough for you to catch the scent of her perfume. once, she’d whispered, “meet me in the archives at lunch,” and you’d nearly dropped an entire tray of coffee cups.

by mid-afternoon, you were in the copy room, wrestling with a jammed printer, when lois slipped in, closing the door with a soft click. your heart jumped.

“lois, someone’s gonna—” you started, but she cut you off, stepping close, her hands on your waist.

“relax,” she murmured, her lips brushing your ear. “door’s locked.”

you swallowed hard, glancing at the frosted glass window. “we’re gonna get caught.”

she grinned, that reckless, confident smile that made you weak. “not if we’re quick.” before you could protest, she kissed you, all heat and urgency, and for a moment, you forgot the world outside. her hands slid up your back, and you tangled your fingers in her hair, the printer’s incessant beeping fading into the background as you just melt into her lips.

a sharp knock on the door made you both freeze. “y/n? you in there?” jimmy’s voice, muffled but curious.

you pulled back, panting, while lois stifled a laugh at the way you instantly turned red in embarrassment. “yeah, uh, fixing the printer!” you called, voice embarrassingly shaky.

“need any help?” jimmy asked.

“nope! all good!” you squeaked, shoving lois toward the corner as she bit her lip to keep from laughing.

when you finally opened the door, jimmy’s eyes narrowed, taking in your flushed face and lois casually adjusting her blouse behind you. “right,” he said, smirking before walking away.

later, back at your desk, you buried your face in your hands, convinced the entire newsroom was whispering about you. lois, of course, was unfazed, typing away like nothing happened. but when she caught your eye across the room, she winked, and you knew you were in way too deep.

So by the time you got back to their apartment, you knew you couldn’t let Krypto touch anything. The second the elevator doors opened, you planted both hands on his muddy chest and gave him the kind of look you had seen Kara give him when he tried to bring a piece of satellite debris inside like it was a toy. “No couch,” you warned, already struggling to keep him in place because Krypto was vibrating with the kind of joy only a dog covered in mud could feel. “No bed, no rugs, no flying onto the ceiling, no shaking, and I know you understand me.”

Krypto blinked up at you with wide, innocent eyes, his white fur now several different shades of brown, and then his tail wagged hard enough to thump against the hallway wall. He took one hopeful step toward the apartment, and you immediately tightened your grip on the leash. “Don’t even think about it,” you said, fumbling with the keys Kara had given you while trying to keep his muddy paws from touching the door. “Clark already looks like he’s one surprise away from writing a formal apartment rules list, and I’m not being the reason he has to mop muddy paw prints off the ceiling.”

The door opened, and Krypto tried to bolt inside like he had suddenly remembered every soft surface he had ever loved. You caught him around the middle with both arms, which would have been more impressive if he hadn’t been a super-dog and if your shoes weren’t slipping slightly on the floor from the mud already dropping off him. “Bathroom,” you grunted, practically dragging yourself more than him. “We’re going straight to the bathroom, and you’re not going to act like I’m betraying you, because this is entirely your fault.”

Krypto made a small, offended sound, but he let you guide him down the hall, mostly because you kept one arm hooked around his muddy chest and the other hand clamped on his leash. He kept looking over his shoulder at the living room like he was deeply considering making a run for it, and you kept steering him harder toward the bathroom. “Do not look at the couch like that,” you said, breathless by the time you reached the tile. “That couch has done nothing to you, and Clark is probably attached to it.”

The bathroom was clean in a way that made you feel instantly guilty for what was about to happen to it. Clark’s towel was folded neatly on the rack, Kara’s things were in a little pile near the sink, and there was a bottle of shampoo sitting beside what you were pretty sure was Lois’ hairdryer from the last time she had stayed over and left half her things behind. You stared at the bathtub, then at Krypto, then at the mud already caking around his paws. “Okay,” you said slowly, rolling up your sleeves. “This is fine. This is very normal. People bathe dogs every day.”

Krypto sneezed, which sent a tiny spray of mud onto the lower cabinet, and you closed your eyes for one long second before pointing at the tub. “In,” you told him, using your sternest voice, the one that usually worked when he tried to sniff your food too closely. He stepped one paw into the tub, then another, and for one beautiful moment, you thought he was going to cooperate. Then he lifted his head, looked directly at the shower curtain like it had personally challenged him, and floated three feet into the air.

“No,” you said immediately, reaching up and grabbing him around the stomach before he could drift any higher. “Absolutely not. Kara trusted me with you, and I am not explaining to her that you escaped bath time by using aerial superiority.” Krypto huffed, his paws paddling gently in the air, and you pulled him back down into the tub with a wet squeak of mud against porcelain. “Thank you,” you said, still holding him down with both hands. “You are so brave… but you’re also disgusting.”

You turned the water on carefully, testing it with your wrist first because Kara would absolutely know if you gave her dog water that was too cold or too hot. Krypto watched the stream hit the tub like it was a brand-new scientific discovery, then stuck his nose under it and immediately sneezed again. “Don’t inhale it,” you said, grabbing the detachable shower head and trying to wet the muddiest parts of him. “You’ve flown through space and fought criminals, I know running water isn’t where we fall apart.”

The mud started sliding off him in thick brown streaks, turning the bottom of the tub into something that looked deeply unfortunate. Krypto lifted one paw, stared at the dirty water, and then began trotting in place, splashing water up the sides of the tub and all over your shirt. “Krypto!” you said, trying not to laugh because laughing would only encourage him. “No running in the bathtub! That feels like a rule I shouldn’t have to say out loud.”

He trotted faster, delighted by the splashing, and the water slapped against the curtain, the tile, your jeans, and somehow the mirror, while also making the shampoo bottle fall right into the tub, making bubbles start to form. You reached for his collar, but he ducked his head and spun in a tight circle, creating a tiny muddy whirlpool around his paws. “Stop!” you said, laughing now despite yourself as water dripped down your face. “Oh my god, Kara is going to come home and think I wrestled a swamp creature in here.”

Krypto barked once, sharp and happy, then snapped his mouth toward the bubbles gathering near the drain. You moved the shampoo bottle out of reach just in time, because his attention shifted to it with alarming focus. “No, you cannot eat that,” you said, holding the bottle high above your head while he stretched his neck toward it. “This is not a snack, this is literally shampoo, and I don’t care if it smells like coconut, you are not eating Kara’s shampoo.”

He made another offended noise, then licked a cluster of bubbles off the side of the tub before you could stop him. “Krypto!” you said, wiping bubbles off his snout with your wet sleeve. “You are making this so much harder than it has to be. I need you to understand that this is a five-minute bath if you behave, and a forty-minute bath if you keep trying to consume soap like it’s part of your diet.”

Krypto stared at you, bubbles clinging to the fur around his mouth, and wagged his tail hard enough to send another spray of water onto the floor. You sighed, squeezing shampoo into your palm and working it carefully into the cleaner parts of his fur first. “Your mother is so lucky you’re cute,” you muttered, scrubbing behind his ears while he leaned into your hands like the entire bath had suddenly become his idea.

He seemed to love the ear-scrubbing part, at least, because his eyes went half-lidded and his body finally relaxed under your hands. You took advantage of his temporary peace and washed his neck, chest, legs, and the underside of his paws, rinsing away as much mud as you could before he remembered he had free will. “See?” you said, working your fingers carefully through a stubborn patch of dirt near his shoulder. “This is nice, we can do nice. We don’t have to turn Clark’s bathroom into a disaster zone.”

The peace lasted until you rinsed his back, because the second the water ran down his spine, Krypto sprang upward with a startled bark and hovered above the tub again. Water poured off him in sheets, dripping all over the bath mat and your socks. You grabbed his front legs and stared up at him, soaked from your hairline down. “I swear, if you touch that ceiling while covered in shampoo, I’m telling Kara you tried to frame me.”

Krypto whined softly, not guilty in the slightest, and you used both hands to pull him back into the tub. He landed with a splash that sent water over the edge and across the tile, and you stood there for a moment, dripping and exhausted, holding the shower head like you were negotiating with a tiny god. “Okay,” you said, breathing out through your nose. “New plan, you stand there, I rinse you, and nobody flies unless there is a building on fire.”

He actually stood still after that, though you suspected it was mostly because he liked the way you were scratching under his chin with one hand while rinsing him with the other. The brown water gradually turned clearer, and the white of his fur came back in patches until he looked like Kara’s dog again instead of something that had crawled out of a construction site. You rinsed him twice just to be safe, because if Kara buried her face in his fur later and got a mouthful of coconut shampoo, you were never going to hear the end of it.

When you finally turned the water off, Krypto shook himself before you could stop him. The spray hit you full force, splattering the mirror, the towels, the sink, and probably places you wouldn’t discover until Clark asked about them three days from now. You froze, eyes closed, arms slightly out, while Krypto jumped out of the tub and stood in front of you looking incredibly proud of himself. “Thank you,” you said flatly, wiping water from your face. “That was incredibly helpful.”

You grabbed the biggest towel you could find and wrapped it around him before he got another chance to shake. Krypto leaned into the towel immediately, wagging his tail as you rubbed him down, and you had to admit he looked painfully cute with only his nose poking out. “Oh, now you’re sweet,” you said, scrubbing the towel over his back. “Now that I’m soaked, the floor is soaked, and the bathroom looks like a pond exploded in it, now you want to be adorable.”

He licked your wrist, and you rolled your eyes while rubbing the towel over his head. “Don’t try to charm me,” you told him, though your voice had already gone soft. “I’m immune to that… Mostly… A little.” Krypto shoved his face against your stomach, still wrapped in the towel, and you gave in long enough to kiss the top of his damp head. “Fine, you’re forgiven, but only because Kara loves you and because you’re cute when you’re not trying to eat soap.”

The towel helped, but Krypto was still damp enough that letting him loose in the apartment felt dangerous. You glanced around the bathroom and spotted the hairdryer on the counter, half-hidden behind a brush and a bottle of lotion that definitely didn’t belong to Clark. “Okay,” you said, picking it up and checking the settings. “This is either Lois’ or Kara stole it from Lois and forgot to return it, which is a problem for them and not for us.”

Krypto watched the hairdryer with interest, his head tilting to the side as you plugged it in. “Don’t bite this,” you warned, aiming it away from him first. “This has electricity, and I’m pretty sure even you shouldn’t chew on electricity.”

You turned it on low, expecting Krypto to bark, flinch, or fly straight up again. Instead, he went completely still, ears perking as the warm air blew against his chest. You moved it a little closer, careful not to make it too hot, and his eyes widened like you had just introduced him to the greatest invention Earth had ever created. “Oh,” you said, watching as he leaned toward it. “You like that?”

Krypto took one careful step closer, then another, then he pushed his face directly toward the warm stream of air, his damp fur ruffling back from his snout, and you had to bite your lip to keep from laughing too loudly. “No, not that close,” you said, gently guiding his face back with your free hand. “You cannot become one with the hairdryer, we need reasonable distance.”

He disagreed, very strongly, apparently, because every time you moved the hairdryer to dry his side, he shuffled after it, pressing closer until his nose nearly bumped the end. You adjusted the angle, and he followed, you moved to his back legs, and he turned so the warm air stayed on his chest. “Krypto,” you said, laughing now. “I am trying to dry all of you, not just the front half of you.”

He wagged his tail, utterly content, and leaned his whole body toward the hairdryer with the kind of devotion he usually reserved for Kara walking through the door. You worked around him as best you could, one hand rubbing through his fur while the other moved the dryer over his back, neck, and legs. He kept trying to scoot closer, and more than once you had to press your palm to his chest and gently push him back. “Personal space,” you reminded him. “You and Kara both struggle with it, actually.”

By the time you heard the apartment door open, the bathroom floor was covered in damp towels, your clothes were wet, and Krypto was sitting next to the tub like royalty, eyes half-closed while you blew warm air over his chest. You were kneeling beside him, one sleeve pushed up and the other hanging wet around your wrist, trying to dry the last stubborn damp spot behind his ears. “If that’s you, Kara,” you called, raising your voice over the hairdryer, “before you say anything, he was brown when we came in.”

There was a brief silence from the hallway, followed by Clark’s voice, cautious and already concerned. “Brown?”

Kara appeared in the doorway a second later, still in her suit, her hair a little windswept from flying and her expression shifting instantly from confusion to amusement. Clark came up behind her and looked over her shoulder, eyebrows lifting as he took in the wet floor, the muddy towel pile, the shampoo bottle sitting safely on the sink, and Krypto trying to inch his face closer to the hairdryer. Kara’s mouth twitched. “What did my dog do?”

“Your dog,” you said pointedly, because that part mattered, “discovered mud, tried to eat shampoo, attempted to flee bath time vertically, ran laps in the tub, and now apparently believes this hairdryer is the best thing on the planet.” You angled the dryer away for one second, and Krypto immediately leaned after it with a soft, needy sound. “See? This is who you raised.”

Kara stepped fully into the bathroom, biting back a laugh as she crouched beside the tub. “Krypto,” she said, and he finally looked away from the hairdryer long enough to perk up at her. His tail thumped against the floor, sending a small splash of leftover water onto the tile, and Kara reached out to scratch under his chin. “Did you behave for her?”

“He did not,” you said at the same time Krypto barked proudly.

Clark made a quiet sound that was very clearly him trying not to laugh, then looked at the water on the mirror and the damp pawprint on the side of the tub. “I’m guessing the dog park was involved,” he said, leaning one hand against the doorframe while staying far enough back that Krypto couldn’t shake water onto him. “That’s usually where these stories begin.”

“The dog park was involved for maybe ninety seconds before he decided the squirrels were fugitives,” you said, turning the hairdryer back toward Krypto’s shoulder. “And before anyone asks, no, I don’t know how a dog with super-speed still managed to land in every muddy patch individually, but he did. It was honestly impressive.”

Kara looked at you then, really looked at you, taking in your wet shirt, damp hair, bare feet, and the stubborn concentration on your face as you tried to keep the dryer at a safe distance from her extremely spoiled dog. Her expression softened in that way that always made your stomach flip, warm and amused and a little too fond. “You gave him a bath by yourself?”

“I had limited options,” you said, trying to sound casual even though Kara was looking at you like that. “It was either this or let him jump on Clark’s couch while looking like a chocolate lab, and I didn’t think any of us were emotionally prepared for that.”

Clark nodded solemnly from the doorway. “I appreciate your service.”

“You’re welcome,” you said, pointing the dryer toward Krypto’s side again while he tried to follow it. “Also, I used the coconut shampoo, and before you blame me, he did try to eat it twice, so honestly I think I handled that pretty well.”

Kara laughed, low and warm, and reached over to scratch Krypto’s damp head. “He likes coconut.”

“He likes consuming things that aren’t food,” you corrected, moving the dryer away when Krypto pressed too close again. “There’s a difference.”

Krypto whined as the warm air shifted away from his face, and Kara’s grin widened. “Oh, he really does like that thing.”

“He’s obsessed,” you said, letting the air blow gently against his chest again. “He has never been more cooperative in his life. I’m pretty sure if we ever need him to sit still during a crisis, we just bring the hairdryer.”

Clark looked between Kara and Krypto, his expression turning thoughtful in a way that made you instantly suspicious. “I don’t think a hairdryer would be standard field equipment.”

Kara glanced back at him. “You carry tiny snacks in your belt sometimes for him.”

Clark straightened a little. “That’s different.”

“It’s not,” Kara said easily, and you pressed your lips together, trying not to smile too hard because Clark looked like he regretted walking into the conversation. Kara turned back to you, her shoulder brushing yours as she leaned closer to inspect Krypto’s fur. “He’s clean, though. You did good.”

“I did good?” you repeated, arching a brow at her. “Kara, I look like I lost a fight with a sink.”

“You look cute,” she said, like that settled it.

Clark immediately looked at the ceiling, as if he had just remembered he was related to one of the people in the room and did not want to be legally present for flirting. You felt your face warm, but Kara only looked more amused. “Don’t start,” you muttered, turning the hairdryer off for a second so you could hear yourself think. Krypto instantly nudged your hand with his nose, offended by the loss of warm air, and you sighed. “You too? Really?”

Kara leaned in and kissed you quickly, soft and sweet, one hand brushing the side of your damp jaw. It was over before you could fully react, but it still made your breath catch in the embarrassingly easy way she always managed. Clark made a strangled sound behind her and lifted one hand to cover his eyes. “Okay,” he said awkwardly, turning his head toward the hallway. “I’m just going to give everyone privacy. Including the dog, apparently.”

Kara pulled back with a grin, completely unbothered, while you tried not to look as flustered as you felt. “You’ve seen us kiss before,” she said over her shoulder.

Clark kept his hand over his eyes. “That doesn’t mean I need to stand in a bathroom and watch it happen next to a wet dog.”

Krypto barked loudly at the sound of Clark’s voice, then shoved his face toward the hairdryer again like he was trying to remind everyone what the real priority was. You huffed out a laugh and turned it back on low, and he immediately settled, eyes going soft as the warm air ruffled his fur. Kara watched him for a second, then looked at you with that same affectionate little smile. “He might like you more than me now.”

“That’s not true,” you said, even though Krypto had fully leaned his weight into your arm and seemed unwilling to move unless the hairdryer moved with him. “He loves you. I’m just the person currently holding his new favorite object.”

Kara rested her chin lightly on your shoulder, careful not to get too close to the dryer, and Krypto’s tail started thumping again as if he had successfully gathered his two favorite people in one place. “Still,” she said, her voice quieter near your ear, “thanks for taking care of him.”

You softened despite yourself, letting the dryer move slowly over Krypto’s side while Kara stayed tucked close to you. “Yeah, well,” you said, glancing at the soaked towels and the disaster of a floor, “next time you ask me to dog-sit, I’m charging extra for mud removal.”

Clark, already halfway down the hall, called back, “I’ll pay it.”

Kara laughed against your shoulder, and Krypto barked once like he agreed. You looked down at him, at his bright clean fur and his ridiculous, blissed-out expression as he tried to press even closer to the warm air, and shook your head. “You are so lucky you’re loved,” you told him, keeping one hand firm on his chest before he could climb into the hairdryer. “And you are never going to the dog park without Kara again.”

The locker room is already humming when you step inside. Lockers clanging, voices overlapping, the sharp scent of antiseptic and coffee lingering in the air. Early shift energy. Everyone half-awake, half-bracing.

You’re halfway through pulling your scrub top over your head when arms slide around your waist from behind, firm and familiar.

“Good morning, baby.”

Cassie’s voice is low, right by your ear, and she pulls you back against her chest in a tight hug. Like she’s grounding herself as much as she’s greeting you. You relax instantly, hands coming up to rest over her forearms.

“Morning,” you say, smiling. “You’re early.”

She hums. “Couldn’t sleep.”

You turn in her arms, facing her now. She looks tired in that way she gets when she’s already running a mile ahead of the day. Hair pulled back, jaw set, eyes sharp but soft on you. Her hands slide to your hips, thumbs pressing in with quiet intent.

“You good?” you ask.

“For now,” she says. Then, casually, like it’s nothing, “Harrison’s with his dad this weekend.”

She says it casually, but you catch the quick flicker in her eyes that always appears when custody weekends come up. The old fear that she's still one bad day from losing him again.

“Oh yeah?” you reply, arching a brow.

“Mm-hm.” Her mouth quirks. “So I was thinking… dinner after shift. My place. No rushing.”

You glance at her hands on your hips. “Bold of you to assume I’m free.”

Cassie smiles, warm and confident. “Bold of you to pretend you’re not.”

Someone laughs nearby. A locker slams shut. The moment stays just between you anyway.

Cassie leans in and kisses you, slow enough to feel deliberate, quick enough to stay appropriate. Her hand slides down your back as she pulls away, fingers lingering like she doesn’t quite want to let go.

“Have a good day,” she says, forehead resting briefly against yours.

“You too.”

She steps back, already shifting into work mode, reaching for her badge. As she passes you, her hand lands squarely on your ass in a familiar, unapologetic pat.

“Hey,” you laugh, swatting at her arm. “Easy, McKay.”

Cassie stops.

She turns slowly, one eyebrow lifting as that knowing smirk spreads across her face. The look that says don’t challenge me unless you want it.

“Oh?” she says lightly.

Your stomach flips. You hold her gaze for a beat, then shake your head, smiling despite yourself. “Go save lives.”

She chuckles under her breath, satisfied, and finally turns away.

“Focus,” she says, already moving toward the door.

You watch her go, warmth settling low in your chest, unaware that this ease, this certainty, is about to be taken from you for the rest of the shift.

The floor is already loud by the time you spot Mel.

She’s standing just outside one of the trauma bays, arms folded tight across her chest, chart clutched but unread.

Her shoulders are drawn in, spine curved like she’s bracing against something invisible. She looks smaller than usual. Tired in a way sleep doesn’t fix.

You slow without meaning to.

“Hey,” you say softly.

Mel blinks, like she’s been pulled out of deep water. Her smile comes late, brittle at the edges. “Hey.”

You don’t ask what’s wrong. You already know. Everyone does. The lawsuit has been hanging over her for weeks now, a constant pressure that never lets up.

You remember Cassie during her court stuff, how the stress hollowed her out, how she hated being fussed over but still needed someone close enough to keep her upright.

Mel exhales, shaky. “I’m fine,” she says, though her voice doesn’t believe her. “Just… one of those days.”

You step closer before she can pull herself together.

Your arms wrap around her, firm and sure, pulling her into your chest. It’s not a careful hug. It’s grounding.

Mel stiffens for half a second, then gives in completely, forehead pressing into your shoulder as her breath stutters out.

You rock her gently, side to side, slow and steady.

“It’s okay,” you murmur, voice low so only she can hear. “You’re okay. You’re not alone in this.”

Mel’s hands clutch at the back of your scrubs, fingers curling tight like she’s afraid you might let go. You keep rocking her, small movements, the kind meant to soothe without drawing attention.

“I hate this,” she whispers. “I hate that it’s everywhere. That I can’t turn it off.”

“I know,” you say, one hand sliding up and down her back in an absent, comforting rhythm. “But it won’t last forever. You’re doing everything right. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Her breathing starts to even out, the sharp edge softening as she leans more fully into you. You stay like that for a few more seconds, holding her steady until the tremor leaves her shoulders.

Eventually, Mel pulls back, swiping at her eyes and forcing a steadier breath. She lets out a quiet, embarrassed laugh. “Sorry.”

“Don’t,” you say immediately, squeezing her once more before letting your arms fall away. “Never apologize for that.”

She nods, visibly lighter than she was a moment ago. “Thank you,” she says. “Really. I didn’t realize how much I needed that.”

You smile at her, warm and sincere. “Anytime.”

Mel gives your arm a grateful squeeze before turning back toward the bay, shoulders a little straighter now.

The moment dissolves back into the controlled chaos of the floor, the sound of monitors beeping, voices calling out, life moving on.

You don’t notice the way someone pauses across the unit.

Or the look that lingers a second too long.

You just move forward, unaware that the shift has already taken a turn you won’t feel until much later.

Cassie’s day starts going sideways before she even finishes her first coffee.

Her first patient of the morning refuses to answer questions, snaps at every attempt to clarify, accuses her of “not listening” while talking over her. By the time she leaves the room, her jaw aches from clenching it.

“Next time,” she mutters to herself, scrubbing sanitizer into her hands, “I’m charging extra for the attitude.”

It doesn’t get better.

A family member corners her in the hallway, demanding explanations Cassie’s already given twice. Someone complains about wait times like she personally controls the flow of the universe. Another patient calls her “cold” when she doesn’t sugarcoat the truth.

Cassie absorbs it all. Redirects. De-escalates. Keeps her voice even.

By mid-morning, Robby is on her.

“Why is Bed Twelve still pending?” he asks, appearing at her shoulder with a tablet already in hand.

“I was reassigned to Three and Six,” Cassie replies without looking up. “Twelve’s labs just came back.”

Robby sighs like this is personal. “We’re short today. I need you to move faster.”

Cassie finally looks at him. Her expression is calm. Too calm.

“I am moving fast,” she says. “I’m also doing the work of two people.”

He hesitates, recalibrates. “Just… keep me posted.”

He leaves, and Cassie exhales through her nose, sharp and controlled.

She picks up the slack without being asked. Covers for a resident who’s drowning. Takes an extra patient when someone else taps out. Moves from room to room without pause, without softness, without anyone stopping to check if she’s okay.

No one notices how tightly she’s holding herself together.

No one except her.

Her pager chirps again before she can finish charting. Another call. Another problem. Another demand.

Cassie straightens her shoulders and keeps going.

She doesn’t have time to look for you or to think about anything except surviving the shift.

By the time she finally pauses in the hallway, leaning briefly against the wall, her patience is threadbare and her chest feels tight with unspent frustration.

She closes her eyes for half a second.

Just get through it, she tells herself.

She has no idea yet that the thing that’s going to break her focus isn’t another patient.

It’s going to be you.

Cassie doesn’t go looking for you because she wants to.

She goes looking for you because Robby stops her in the hallway, tablet tucked under his arm, irritation already carved into his face.

“Did you ever get the labs from Twelve?” he asks.

Cassie blinks once. “I asked Y/N to grab them.”

“Well, they’re still not in,” Robby says. “I need them now.”

Of course he does.

Cassie nods and turns without another word, already moving. She checks the nurses’ station first. Then the med room. Empty. Your name isn’t where she expects it to be, and the delay needles at her patience more than it should.

She rounds the corner toward the supply hallway near trauma, irritation riding high.

She hears your voice before she sees you.

It’s lighter than it’s been all morning.

You’re standing near the counter, gloves off, posture loose. Trinity is across from you, tablet tucked under her arm, eyes bright with something like amusement.

“Okay, first of all,” Trinity says, gesturing at you, “how do you still look that put together this far into the shift?”

You laugh, shaking your head. “I absolutely do not.”

She snorts. “Please. If I looked like that, I’d be unbearable.”

You roll your eyes, smiling despite yourself.

“And,” Trinity adds, tone easy, “I’m a little jealous, not gonna lie. Mel got all of your attention earlier. I could’ve used a hug too.”

You laugh again, lighter this time. “Next crisis, I’ll pencil you in.”

Cassie steps into view.

“So this,” she says coolly, voice slicing clean through the moment, “is why we don’t have the labs for Twelve?”

Your smile drops instantly.

“Cass—” you start, already turning toward her.

“It’s Dr. McKay,” she cuts in sharply.

The correction is quiet. Public. Deliberate.

Your chest tightens. “Dr. McKay, I was just—”

“If you have time to stand around being charming,” Cassie continues, eyes hard on yours, “you have time to do what you were assigned.”

Trinity straightens, clearly uncomfortable. “We were just talking—”

Cassie doesn’t look at her.

“This is a hospital,” Cassie says, tone flat and unforgiving. “Not a social hour.”

“I was helping Mel earlier and she stopped me to—” you try again.

Cassie’s jaw tightens.

“That’s interesting,” she says coldly, “because Robby’s been waiting on results that should’ve been done twenty minutes ago.”

The reprimand lands like a slap. Efficient. Exact.

“Get the labs,” Cassie adds. “Now.”

You nod once, throat tight, and move past her. She doesn’t move to make space. You have to angle your body around her, the familiar closeness replaced by something rigid and impersonal.

Behind you, Trinity’s voice drops. “Hey… I didn’t mean anything by that.”

“I know,” you murmur, barely audible.

Cassie is already walking away, spine straight, expression unreadable, authority firmly back in place. 

You don’t see it in the moment, but the look on her face isn’t just anger, it’s the old fear of being replaceable, the same one that flickers every time Harrison’s custody weekends come up.

She doesn’t look back. She doesn’t soften. And she doesn’t speak to you again for the rest of the shift.

You get the labs.

You get them fast. Too fast. Hands steady, heart racing, every movement sharp with the need to fix something you can’t quite reach yet. By the time you upload the results and send the notification, your chest feels tight with unsaid words.

You find Cassie outside Bed Six.

She’s reviewing a chart, posture straight, expression locked in. All business. No softness left in the lines of her face.

“Dr. McKay,” you say quietly.

She doesn’t look up. “What do you need, Y/N?”

Your stomach drops at the formality.

“I wanted to explain,” you start, lowering your voice. “I didn’t mean to delay anything. Trinity stopped me and I—”

Cassie finally looks at you.

Her eyes are cool. Assessing. Closed.

“This isn’t an appropriate time for personal conversations,” she says evenly. “If there’s a work-related issue, state it. Otherwise, I’m busy.”

It feels like hitting glass.

“I just wanted you to know it wasn’t—”

“Y/N,” Cassie interrupts, tone clipped but controlled, “I don’t need an explanation. I need you focused.”

The words are precise. Professional. Final.

She turns back to the chart, dismissing you without another glance.

You stand there for half a second too long before you realize she’s done with the interaction entirely.

You move away.

You don’t stop trying after that. You just get quieter about it.

Later, you approach her again near imaging, keeping your tone neutral, your posture careful.

“Dr. McKay,” you say. “Robby asked if we’re still moving forward with the consult from Three.”

Cassie answers without looking at you. “He can page me directly.”

“I can pass it along—”

“I said he can page me,” she replies calmly.

Nothing else.

Another time, she reroutes a patient you’re already handling without warning. When you ask why, she answers in the same flat tone.

“Coverage.”

By midday, the pattern is unmistakable.

Cassie avoids being alone with you. Keeps every interaction stripped to necessity. Gives instructions through intermediaries. When she does speak to you directly, it’s clipped, impersonal, and just sharp enough to sting.

It’s not loud. It’s not emotional. It’s surgical.

At the nurses’ station, she finishes giving instructions to a resident just as you step up beside her.

You wait.

She doesn’t look at you.

“Dana,” Cassie says instead, turning slightly, “can you reassign Y/N to Three? I need coverage elsewhere.”

Dana pauses. Looks at Cassie. Then at you.

“…Yeah,” she says slowly. “I can do that.”

Cassie walks away.

Dana watches her go, then turns back to you, eyes narrowing. “Hey,” she says quietly. “You okay?”

You swallow. “Yeah. I’m fine.”

Dana doesn’t buy it.

An hour later, Dana corners Cassie near the charge desk.

“Alright,” she says, arms crossed, voice low but firm. “What’s going on?”

Cassie looks up, expression smooth. “What do you mean?”

“You’ve been icing Y/N out all day,” Dana says plainly.

Cassie stiffens. “I’ve been managing my assignments.”

Dana shakes her head. “No. You corrected her in public. You’ve rerouted her twice without explanation. You’re treating her like a problem.”

Cassie’s jaw tightens. “She delayed critical labs.”

“And she corrected it immediately,” Dana replies. “If there’s a performance issue, you bring it to me.”

Cassie meets her gaze. Says nothing.

Dana steps closer. “I don’t know what’s going on between the two of you, and I don’t need to. But she reports to me.”

Cassie’s posture goes rigid.

“And right now,” Dana continues, voice calm but unyielding, “you’re being unfair to my girl.”

Silence stretches between them.

Finally, Cassie nods once. “Understood.”

Dana studies her. “Are you okay?”

“Yes,” Cassie says immediately.

It’s a clean lie.

Dana exhales slowly. “Alright. But I’m watching.”

Cassie turns back to her work, control locked firmly in place.

Across the floor, you feel the distance like a physical thing.

She still doesn’t come to you. Still doesn’t explain. Still doesn’t soften.

The shift finally limps to an end.

Not cleanly. Not neatly. Just a gradual loosening of pressure until the noise dulls and the adrenaline drains out of you, leaving everything tender in its wake.

You’re gathering your things at the nurses’ station when Mel slips in beside you, bag already slung over her shoulder.

“Hey,” she says softly. “You okay?”

You manage a small smile. “Yeah. Just wiped.”

She studies you for a beat, then nods. “Thanks again. For earlier. I meant what I said.”

You squeeze her arm. “Anytime.”

Trinity lingers a few steps away, clearly debating whether to say something. When your eyes meet, she exhales and comes closer.

“Before you go,” she says, quieter now, “I just want to say that I didn’t mean to make things weird today.”

You shake your head immediately. “Hey. No. You didn’t.”

She looks unconvinced. “Still, I—”

You cut in gently. “I’m sorry you had to see that,” you say, earnest but calm. “I don’t know what happened, but that wasn’t your fault. At all.”

Trinity blinks, caught off guard by the sincerity.

“I was just talking,” she says. “I didn’t think—”

“I know,” you reply, offering a small smile. “You were being nice. And I appreciate that.”

Mel hums in agreement. “Yeah. For the record, none of this was on you.”

Trinity’s shoulders ease a little. “Thanks. I just… didn’t want there to be weirdness between us.”

“There isn’t,” you say easily. “I’d actually really like to be good friends, if that’s okay.”

Her mouth curves into a genuine smile. “Yeah. I’d like that.”

You glance between the two of them, the tension finally loosening in your chest. “We should all hang out sometime,” you add lightly. “Preferably not after a shift like this.”

Mel snorts. “Hard pass.”

Trinity laughs. “Agreed. Drinks. Food. Something that doesn’t beep at us.”

“Exactly,” you say. “Something normal.”

For a moment, it almost feels like it might be.

You sling your bag over your shoulder and step back. “I’m gonna head out.”

“You sure?” Mel asks.

“Yeah,” you say. “I’m taking the bus. I just want to get home.”

They both nod, understanding written all over their faces.

“Text us when you get there,” Mel says.

You promise you will, then turn toward the exit without looking for Cassie, without waiting for the routine you know isn’t coming tonight.

Outside, the air is cool and sharp. You pull your jacket tighter as you walk toward the bus stop, deliberately keeping your mind blank.

You don’t want to replay it. Don’t want to guess what you did wrong. Don’t want to carry the weight of Cassie’s silence any longer.

The bus pulls up with a soft hiss.

You climb on, take a seat by the window, and let your head rest back against the glass as the city slides past.

For tonight, you decide, you’re choosing peace.

You don’t know yet how much Cassie is going to notice that choice.

But she will.

Cassie finishes her last note without ceremony.

Sign. Save. Log out.

The floor has thinned out by the time she steps away from the workstation, the end-of-shift buzz fading into something quieter. She scans the hallway automatically, expecting to spot Y/N near the lockers or lingering by the exit like she usually does.

She doesn’t.

Her jaw tightens as she moves toward the elevators.

She rounds the corner and nearly walks straight into Mel and Trinity, both already changed, jackets on, clearly on their way out.

“Oh—sorry,” Mel says, stepping aside.

Cassie straightens. “Have either of you seen Y/N?”

Trinity’s expression shifts immediately.

Mel hesitates. “She just left.”

Cassie nods once. “Did she say anything?”

Trinity crosses her arms. “She said she was tired.”

Cassie’s throat tightens. “That’s it?”

“And that she was taking the bus,” Trinity adds. “That’s all.”

Cassie frowns. “She didn’t say why?”

Trinity shrugs. “Didn’t ask.”

Mel watches Cassie carefully. “She apologized to Trinity before she left,” she offers gently.

Cassie’s eyes flick to Trinity.

“For what?” Cassie asks.

Trinity’s mouth tightens. “For nothing that was her fault.”

Cassie exhales slowly, controlled. “Do you know where she went?”

Mel and Trinity exchange a glance.

Trinity shrugs again, deliberate. “Away from here.”

The answer lands heavier than an address ever could.

Cassie nods, jaw set. “Alright.”

She steps around them toward the exit, posture straight, face composed.

Behind her, Mel sighs softly. “I hope she’s okay.”

Trinity watches Cassie go. “She will be.”

Cassie pushes through the doors and into the night, the cool air biting against her skin.

You didn’t disappear.

You chose distance.

And Cassie understands, with a clarity that stings, that she doesn’t get to know where you went.

Cassie sits in her car for a long moment before she turns the key.

The engine starts, but the noise doesn’t help. The day is still sitting in her chest, heavy and unresolved. She pulls out of the garage on autopilot, phone lighting up the console beside her.

Nothing.

She exhales and picks it up anyway, thumb moving before she can stop herself.

Cassie: Baby, please talk to me.

She stares at the message for half a second, jaw tight, then sends it.

Across town, the bus rattles forward, lights flickering overhead. You sit by the window, jacket pulled close, eyes unfocused as the city slides past.

Your phone buzzes.

Cassie.

You close your eyes.

When you open them, the message is still there.

Baby, please talk to me.

You let out a slow breath and type back.

You: Funny. You want to talk now. On your terms.

The reply comes fast.

Cassie: That’s not fair.

You almost laugh.

The bus hits a pothole, jolting you forward just enough to ground you.

You: I tried to talk to you all day. You shut me down every time.

Three dots appear. Disappear. Appear again.

Cassie pulls into her driveway and parks crooked, not bothering to fix it.

Cassie: I was angry. I didn’t handle it well.

You shake your head, fingers steady as you type.

You: I noticed.

Another pause.

Cassie: Can I see you tonight?

The question sits there, heavy. Familiar. Loaded with an expectation she’s always been able to rely on before.

You don’t answer right away.

The bus slows. Your stop is coming up.

You type once, delete it. Type again.

You:I’m off shift, Dr. McKay.

In the car, Cassie’s chest tightens at the name. The distance. The mirror held up to her own words from earlier.

Cassie: Please.

You stand as the bus pulls to a stop, slipping your bag over your shoulder.

You send one last message.

You:Home safe ✌️

Then you lock your phone and tuck it away before she can reply.

The bus doors hiss shut behind you, and you step out into the quiet, cool night.

In her car, Cassie stares at the message, the little peace sign burning brighter than any accusation ever could.

Home safe.

Not come here. Not let’s fix this. Not I forgive you.

Just a boundary.

And for the first time all day, Cassie has no control over what happens next.

By the time the knock comes, you’re wrapped in a robe that smells like lavender oil and clean skin.

You’ve taken your time with the shower. The everything shower. Hair washed and conditioned twice. Legs shaved slowly and carefully.

Body oil worked into damp skin until you feel soft again, like the day didn’t get to take that from you. You even stood under the hot water longer than necessary, just breathing, letting it all rinse away.

Your face mask is on. Your nails are half-done, toes still bare, feet propped on a towel on the coffee table.

You didn’t rush for the door.

The knock comes again, gentle but certain.

You pad over barefoot and open it without checking.

Cassie stands there holding a paper bag of takeout and a bottle of wine, looking very much like someone who has already lost the argument and knows it.

She blinks at you.

“Baby,” she says, exhaling, “did you even look at who was at the door before opening it?”

You just look at her.

Face mask. Wrapped hair. Painted fingernails drying carefully.

Cassie closes her eyes for a second and huffs out a quiet laugh. “Okay. Fair.”

You step aside. “You’re lucky I’m mid–self care.” 

“I figured,” she says. “You always do this when you’re overwhelmed.” That lands softer than anything else she could’ve said. She holds up the bag slightly. “I brought dinner. And wine. No expectations.”

 You study her for a long moment, searching for defensiveness. 

Finding none, you step back. “You can come in,” you say calmly. “But you’re finishing my toes.”

She doesn’t hesitate. “Deal.”

She sets the food down, kicks her shoes off, and follows you to the couch without trying to touch you yet. You sit, handing her the polish with a pointed look.

Cassie takes your foot gently, like she’s been granted something sacred.

She works in silence for a minute.

Then you speak.

“I thought our dynamic meant we’d never stop communicating, you’d hold space for me, I’d hold it for you, we’d take care of each other even when the world was falling apart around us. You promised me aftercare was beyond the bedroom, no exceptions. Today you took it all away without a word…”

Cassie stills.

Slowly, she looks up at you. “It does.”

Cassie sets the nail polish down carefully, like she’s afraid to make any sudden moves. She doesn’t look away.

“I know,” she says, voice low and rough. “What I did today, the silence, pulling rank, shutting you out like you were just another task… it was wrong. All of it.”

You let the words settle for a second, then speak quietly, the hurt plain but steady.

“I spent all day racking my brain, trying to figure out what I did wrong. What I said, or didn’t say, that made you turn cold like that. I kept replaying everything, wondering if I crossed some line.”

Her expression shifts. Guilt settles deeper. She exhales slowly.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” she says, simple and direct. “That was me. I had a shit day, felt rattled, and instead of talking to you about it, I let it turn into distance. I shut down. Used my title as a wall. I’m sorry, baby. Really sorry.”

Her thumb brushes lightly over your ankle, tentative, asking.

“I should’ve come to you the second I felt off. Said something. Let you in. That’s what you deserve, what I promised. Better communication. If something upsets me, I talk to you. No more making you guess.”

She meets your eyes, steady and clear.

“I messed up today. I know it. And I’m going to fix it, starting right now. No walls. No silent treatment.”

You nod slowly, then continue, voice softer.

“Mel was upset about her deposition today. She was spiraling. And I remembered how you felt when all your court stuff was happening. How alone you felt. So I hugged her.”

Cassie’s thumb stills against your skin.

“And Trinity,” you add, gentler now, “was just trying to be friends. She complimented me. That’s it. She’s with Dr. Ellis on nights.”

Cassie winces. “I know.”

“You hurt me, Cassie,” you say. “Pulling rank? Correcting me like that? ‘Dr. McKay’?”

She looks at you fully now, no excuses left.

“I was angry,” she admits. “Not at you. At myself. At the day. When I saw you laughing with someone else, it felt like I lost something. Like I wasn’t your safe place anymore. So I took it away.”

You hold her gaze. “Yeah. You did.”

The silence stretches, heavy but honest.

Then Cassie frowns slightly. “You know you’re not supposed to take the bus.”

You sigh. “I didn’t have the money to Uber. And I didn’t think you’d take me home.”

Her face crumples just a little.

“Baby,” she says, voice low and wrecked, “my heart was in my ass trying to find you.”

You soften despite yourself. “I needed space.”

“I know,” she says. “And you were right to take it. But I need you to know, no matter how angry I am, I would always take you home.”

She reaches for your ankle again, gentle, asking with her eyes. This time you let her.

“I failed you today,” she continues quietly. “As your Dom. As your partner. I won’t do that again.”

You let out a slow breath.

“I don’t need perfect,” you say. “I need safe.”

Cassie nods, eyes steady. “You are. And I’m going to earn that back.”

She finishes your toes carefully, blowing on them softly when she’s done.

When she looks up again, she doesn’t command. She asks.

“Can I take care of you now?”

And this time, you mean it when you say yes.

Cassie nods once, slow and deliberate, like she's sealing the promise. She stands quietly, offering her hand. You take it, letting her pull you up from the couch.

Your robe slips open a little at the front. She doesn't stare, just keeps her eyes on yours with that steady warmth you've missed all day.

"Come on," she murmurs. "Let's get that mask off before it hardens into concrete."

You follow her to the bathroom, the tile cool under your bare feet. She turns on the faucet, tests the water until it's just right, warm, not hot. Then she wets a washcloth, adds a drop of your favorite cleanser, and steps close.

"Lean back," she says softly.

You do. She cups the back of your head with one hand, steady and gentle, and wipes the mask away in slow, careful strokes. Her thumb brushes your temple, your cheekbone, the corner of your mouth.

When the last of it is gone, she rinses the cloth, wrings it out, and presses it to your face again, just warm water this time, soothing.

"There," she whispers. "All clean."

She dries your face with the softest towel, patting instead of rubbing. Then she leans in and kisses your forehead, lingering.

You exhale, tension unwinding. "Thank you."

She smiles, small and real. "Not done yet."

She guides you back to the living room, but this time she doesn't sit. She eases you down onto the couch, kneels between your legs, and looks up at you with dark, intent eyes.

"Let me make it up to you," she says, voice dropping lower, edged with something sharper. "Properly."

You nod, pulse already racing.

Cassie parts your robe fully, hands sliding up your thighs, firm and possessive. She kisses the inside of one knee, then the other, harder this time, teeth grazing skin just enough to make you gasp. 

When she finally leans in, mouth finding you, it's not gentle. Her tongue is relentless, circling, flicking, sucking with deliberate pressure that has you squirming almost immediately. One hand pins your hip down while the other spreads you wider, holding you open for her.

She works you fast and filthy, humming low in her throat every time you whimper. You're babbling within minutes, half-formed pleas, her name, "please" and "Cassie" and "fuck," and she doesn't let up. 

She pulls back just long enough to murmur against your clit, breath hot and mean, "That's it, baby. Let me hear how much you missed this. How much you need it." Then she's back on you, tongue thrusting shallow, sucking hard until your thighs shake and you're coming apart with a broken cry, hips bucking against her mouth.

She doesn't stop until you're trembling, oversensitive and boneless. Only then does she pull back, lips shiny, eyes gleaming.

"Now about that bus," she says, voice rough with satisfaction.

You blink, still hazy. "Cass."

She stands, tugs you to your feet with a firm grip on your wrist. "You know the rule. No bus. Not when I'm here to take you home."

Her tone is low, disappointed, but there's heat behind it, punishment wrapped in want.

She turns you toward the arm of the couch, bends you over it with quick, sure hands. "Ten," she says. "Count them. And don't you dare hold back."

The first smack lands hard, sharper than before, the sting blooming fast and bright across your skin. You gasp, "One." She rubs the spot roughly, then delivers the second even harder.

Heat spreads, each one building on the last, three, four, five, until your ass is burning, your breath coming in short, needy pants.

"Six, seven," you count through gritted teeth, voice shaking. By ten your legs are trembling, skin flushed and tender.

Cassie pulls you upright, spins you around, and kisses you bruisingly, teeth and tongue claiming. Then she pushes you back onto the couch, climbs over you, and slides two fingers inside without warning. You arch, still sensitive, still throbbing from her mouth.

She pumps slow at first, then faster, curling just right, thumb circling your clit in tight, merciless strokes. "Look at you," she murmurs, voice dark and teasing. "Still so wet after I already made you come. Greedy little thing."

You reach for her, hands finding her breasts, mouth latching onto one nipple. You suck hard, needy, tongue swirling as you moan around her skin. Between gasps you manage, "I won't be bad no more, Cassie. Promise."

She laughs low, a little mean, fingers never slowing. "Yeah? Sure you won't, baby. We've heard that before."

The tease makes you clench around her fingers, heat flooding you again. You pull off her nipple with a wet pop, looking up at her with glassy eyes.

"Let me make you feel good now," you breathe.

Cassie smirks, pulls her fingers free, and shifts so you're both on the couch, legs tangled, pussies pressed together. She rocks first, setting a hard, grinding rhythm that has you both gasping.

Skin slides against skin, slick and hot, clits bumping with every roll of her hips. She grips your thigh, pulls you tighter, fucks against you like she needs it just as bad.

"Fuck, that's it," she growls, pace quickening. "Grind on me, baby. Show me how sorry you are."

You do, hips rolling, chasing the friction, hands braced on her shoulders. It builds fast, desperate, until you're both shaking, coming hard together in messy, shuddering waves, moans muffled against each other's mouths.

You both collapse sideways onto the couch, limbs tangled, chests heaving. Sweat cools on your skin as Cassie pulls you half on top of her, one arm wrapped possessively around your waist, the other stroking slow circles down your spine.

She presses soft, lazy kisses to your shoulder, your neck, murmuring quiet praise against your ear. "Good girl. So fucking perfect for me." Until your breathing evens out and the last tremors fade. 

For a long minute, there's just the sound of your hearts slowing together, the room quiet except for the low hum of the TV in the background.

Afterwards, Cassie doesn't let go. She pulls a soft blanket over you both, tucks you against her chest, legs still tangled.

She reaches for the remote, flips on the TV, lands on some trashy reality show, people yelling about nothing, dramatic zooms, bad lighting. Perfect background noise.

Then she grabs the takeout bag from the coffee table, opens the containers. The food's gone cold, but she doesn't care. She feeds you a bite of lo mein, then takes one herself. 

You pass the wine bottle back and forth, drinking straight from it, laughing softly when a drop spills on her collarbone and she makes you lick it off.

She kisses your temple between bites.

"You're mine," she whispers against your skin. "And I'm yours. No more bad days without talking it through."

You curl tighter into her side, full, warm, and finally safe.

The TV drones on. The wine bottle empties. The cold takeout disappears.

And for the first time all day, everything feels right.

AN: besties…

this fic absolutely ran me over. I'm not sure if this is what y’all were expecting, but it’s what came out. my eyes are fighting for their lives rn, so if i messed something up pls show mercy.

It was awfully quiet for a summer day in the ER. Usually, by mid-morning they would be flooded with traumas. After the initial flow from nearby long-term care facilities, they were usually elbow deep until the quiet they usually have between two and three. 

But today, it was quiet. Too quiet.

Nobody would dare to mention that out loud, though. They were a superstitious bunch. Sue them. 

Cassie wasn’t in her normal groove today. Maybe it was the fact that she wasn’t in her solitude, her normal. She wasn’t in triage today, and it was fucking with her. 

She was down in the trauma bay like almost every other person who worked in the pitt. 

Regardless, it was messing with her. So maybe that’s why she blabs out whatever was on her mind to Samira. Or maybe it was the lack of sleep the night before, up too late thinking about her life choices. Thinking about you. But that’s something she would never say out loud. So maybe that’s why she says what she says. 

“God, I can’t wait for this weekend.” Cassie leans over the nurses desk, running a tired hand over her forehead. 

Even though it’s only nine, she feels like she’s been here since the night before. It was the lack of sleep, she decided. Not you. Never you. You were too young. Way too young. 

“Do I even want to know?” Samira lifts her eyes from the computer, her eyebrow raising. 

“I don’t have Harrison this weekend.” She offers up as if it was obvious. As if she and Samira had this conversation yesterday and she just blocked it out. “He’s with his dad this weekend.. it’s gonna be so quiet.”

“Hm.” Samira returns her attention to the computer, quickly losing interest. She never paid attention to Cassie much. That is, unless she mentions you. But that was very rare. 

Samira was one of the two people you’d actually told about your crush. As your best friend it was in her best interest to keep her ears peeled for your name in any conversation. But specifically ones that involved one Cassie McKay. 

The other person was Mel. That one being a drunken mistake. After a particularly hard shift you’d offered up an invite to anyone as pathetic as you who needed to forget. The only person who took you up was Mel. 

Three shots in, you’d blurted out the only secret you ever held. 

“I need to get laid.” Cassie blows out a rush of air, like it was weighing her down and she needed to get it out before her lung collapsed. 

Samira’s head snapped back up. She wasn’t sure how much of the conversation she’d missed between her last remark and Cassie’s just now, but she was sure focused now. 

Cassie must notice the surprise on Samira’s face because she responds back with, “Sorry. That was a little much, huh?” 

“A little?” Samira breathes out, logging out of the computer so her full attention is on this conversation. 

“Okay, a lot.” She presses her fingers into her dry eyes. She’s sure her eyes are red from lack of sleep. “Especially before ten.” 

When Cassie looks up, she’s still met with Samira’s flabbergasted expression. 

“Or ever.” Cassie lifts her head again. She hits the top of the desk slightly. “Alright, well, I better get back to work.” 

Samira just nods, like she had an out of body experience. Unsure of what to do. 

Does she keep this to herself? No. Definitely not. But who does she tell? She can’t take this straight to you. She debates it  for a second, weighing the option in her head. It would mess with your groove for the rest of the shift. You’d be flustered and wobbly, and it wouldn’t result in anything but torture for anyone. She can just imagine you tripping over your own words, trying to look Cassie in the eye, but only lasting for a few seconds. 

Okay, definitely not you. Maybe she takes this to Mel. The only other person who knows. After staring at the menu screen on the computer for way too long, she decides against it. 

Mel’s too innocent, she declares. She wouldn’t be able to handle it on her own. 

So she finds herself standing before she’s even thinking, finding the exact group she wants to find in the break room. 

“I have a proposition.” Samira makes sure there’s no stranglers in the break room before she shuts and locks the door. 

The group—Dennis, Victoria, Mel, and Trinity—stop their conversation before they turn their attention to Samira. 

“And what is that?” Trinity turns with a mischievous smirk. “Is it trouble?” 

“Possibly.” Samira says bluntly. 

“Count me in.” Trinity shrugs, her bitter coffee cup steaming in her hand. 

“Count me out.” Mel shakes her head, making a move towards the door before Trinity grabs her arm. 

“Sit down, weasel.” Trinity pushes her to sit in one of the chairs. “Listen to what she has to say before you deny the action.” 

“W— what is it?” Victoria asks nervously. 

“Yeah, this isn’t gonna.. like.. get us in trouble, is it?” Dennis sways on his feet, debating if he’d make it to the door before Trinity catches him. 

“Guys, let her speak.” Trinity rolls her eyes. “You were saying?” 

“Okay, this might come as a surprise to most of you. And you cannot, under any circumstances, speak of this with anyone who is not in this room.” Samira speaks with her hands, clenching into fists. 

“Okay..” Trinity says. 

“y/n has a crush on McKay.” Samira lets out a sigh, much like the one Cassie let out before. 

“Oh, well, we knew that.” Trinity laughs. “Was that supposed to be a secret? Because I swear I just had a conversation with Princess and Perlah about that this morning.” 

Samira sighs, her eyes closing in annoyance. 

“It’s supposed to be a secret.” Samira says. 

“Then why are you telling us?” Victoria shifts on her feet. “I mean, isn’t this an invasion of hers and Dr. McKay’s privacy?” 

“Definitely.” Mel looks uncomfortable. “But.. what does this have to do with us?” 

“I say we..” Samira trails off, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip. She can’t figure out how to word this, so she just blurts it. It’ll definitely screw with Dennis, Victoria, and Mel, but she can’t think of a better way. “Look, McKay came up to me this morning basically yelling she needed to get laid.” 

She doesn’t miss the way Victoria, Dennis, and Mel flinch. And she sure doesn’t miss the way Trinity's face stretches out into a grin. 

“So.. what?” Trinity looks down and back up again, her smirk vibrant on her face. “You want us to set them up?” 

“What? You think if we drop subtle hints they’ll take the bait?” Dennis wraps his arms around himself, not completely hating the idea. 

“Well, yeah.” Samira states it as if it’s obvious. 

“That would be easy.. except..” Mel trails off shaking her head. 

“Except what?” Victoria asks. 

“Expect that y/n thinks it’s one sided and that she’ll never have a chance.” Mel states, looking around to see the looks she’s getting. “What? y/n.. tells me things.” 

“Okay, regardless, something needs to happen.” Samira waves her hand in the air. “Are you guys in or not?” 

“Well, I already said yes before you came up with this plan. But after hearing it..” Trinity tilts her head. “Hell yeah.” 

“I feel obligated.” Mel nods. 

“Yeah— yeah sure.” Victoria smiles. “It’s kind of annoying watching her stare at McKay like she’s hung the sky.” 

“I think the expression you’re looking for is ‘like she hung the moon.’” Dennis corrects, looking up to see all eyes on him. “What?” 

“Well? Huckleberry?” Trinity raises her eyebrows, throwing her empty coffee cup in the trash. “You in or out?” 

After a long stretch of silence, and a heavy sigh, “I’m in.” 

“Great. I’m starting a group chat with all of us.” Trinity already has her phone out, tapping away. “Don’t speak of this outside of this room.” 

“Woah, who’s controlling this operation? Me or you?” Samira frowns. 

“We can..” Trinity stops talking, stuck on something happening on her phone. “do it together.” 

“If anyone would co-captain this ship with me, it would be Mel.” Samira crosses her arms over her chest, shaking her head. “We were the only ones who knew for sure before this conversation started.” 

“I’m— I'm okay if Santos takes my spot.” Mel rocks back and forth slightly, her nerves taking over. “I’m more of a follower.. so.” 

“Okay, that settles it then.” Trinity tucks her phone back in her pocket. “I made the group chat. Don’t open it around anyone. And definitely don’t tell anyone about this. Keep us updated.” 

They start to retreat out of the room, Samira shaking her head and sighing. 

Tuesday rolls around and the group chat is buzzing. 

Trinity definitely took over the entire operation, and despite Samira’s annoyance, she’s gotten them further than she would have. 

Granted, the only updates in the group chat have been short moments. You looking at Cassie a little too long, a lingering touch, an agreement on something that shouldn’t have been agreed on for a patient's care. 

But late Tuesday evening, right before shift change, there’s a breakthrough.

Trinity: No fucking way. 

Victoria: Yes way. Swear to God. 

Samira: You’re sure? Like, 100%? 

Victoria: Yes. 

Mel: Well? What’s the proof?

Trinity: Yeah, come on. You can’t withhold vital information from us. 

Dennis: You’re acting like this is a court case. 

Victoria: Okay. My locker is right beside McKay’s, right?

Samira: Is that a question or a statement? I don’t keep tabs on people’s lockers. 

Victoria: A statement. 

Dennis: Keep going. I have to be back early tomorrow and I’d like to sleep. 

Trinity: Please. You’re sitting on the couch watching TV. 

Dennis: Shut up. Just trying to speed the process. 

Victoria: Anyways, y/n finished changing and was leaving. And she passed by McKay, and I swear to God I saw her eyes on y/n’s ass. 

Mel: Seriously? 

Victoria: On my life. 

Trinity: Oh. This is serious. 

Mel: What if they are already dating? 

Samira: No. She would’ve told me. 

Dennis: You sure about that? 

Samira: Yes. 

Trinity: Okay, back to the most important part here. 

Victoria: Anyways, she caught me staring and her face turned into a tomato! Like so red. 

Mel: Oh my gosh. Guys, maybe we shouldn’t meddle in this. 

Trinity: Mel, for the love of God. 

Dennis: Mel, it’s fine, okay? We aren’t really doing anything. 

Mel: Yet. What if they find out and are so mad they won’t talk to us anymore? I don’t like that idea. y/n is the closest thing I have to a friend. 

Trinity: Hey! 

Dennis: That’s mean. 

Samira: We are all your friends, Mel. 

Mel: Yeah, yeah, I know. 

Victoria: Anyways, after she caught me staring she tried to come up with an excuse. Something about thinking y/n had something on her butt. She got so flustered and stuttered so much. She left right after that. Making it a point to go the opposite direction of y/n. 

Trinity: Holy shit. This is big. 

Samira: Well, now we have proof Cassie has a thing for y/n. 

Mel: I wouldn’t say that determines she has a ‘thing’ for her..

Trinity: Hand it to Mel to bring down the mood. Well, later weirdos. Hopefully we have more luck tomorrow. 

Wednesday, someone has the bright idea to pin you and Cassie in triage together. That someone obviously being Trinity. 

Robby tried to put Trinity in triage, and she came up with the brilliant idea to ask you. 

You, of course, agreed without a second thought. Asking if she was feeling well. Trinity came up with a lie, something about not feeling well and wanting to limit her patient number today. 

You would do anything to spend time with Cassie, so you didn’t have a second thought. 

“y/n!” Cassie’s face brightens when she sees you. “Thought you were in the trauma bay, today.” 

“I was.. but Dr. Santos asked if I’d switch.” You scratch the back of your neck. “I enjoy triage.” 

Cassie squints her eyes, “I don’t believe that. But I’ll let it go.” 

You nod gratefully, following Cassie around before you two split off. Figuring the two of you would get the line through quicker if you worked separately. 

She occasionally asks for consults from you, or just to be near you. She adores you, even though she shouldn’t. 

You’re young. Like, twelve years too young. She shouldn’t think about you the way she does. Or when she does. 

Like when it’s late at night and she’s all alone. The TV long turned off, her hand slipped under her shorts. The image of you in nothing but your bra and underwear getting her off quicker than her ex husband ever did. 

She knows she shouldn’t. She knows it’s wrong. But she can’t help it. She needs you like air. 

“Dr. l/n, could you consult me on something?” She peaks into the exam room you’re in, the curtain pulled around her shoulder. 

“Of course.” You give a tight lipped smile. “Mrs. Chen, I’ll be right back.”

The woman rolls her eyes, telling her to take her time. As if she hadn’t been here all morning. You give your best smile and assure her you’ll be back as soon as possible. 

“Eighteen year old boy, pencil through his ear.” She rubs her hands together, massaging the sanitizer into her hands. Your eyes trail to where her hands are rubbing together. Her skilled fingers run along her knuckles. You imagine what they would feel like caressing your back, her hands in between strands of hair as you— “Hey, eyes up here.” 

She lifts your chin and your throat feels like it’s about to close up. 

“S— sorry.” You take a deep breath. 

“Did you hear what I said?” She tilts her head, eyes scanning your face.

“Eighteen year old boy, pencil in his ear. You want to put him under anesthesia to remove it. You think it’ll be an easy procedure.” You recite her word for word. Her mouth opens in surprise, her eyebrows raising. 

“Good girl.” She smirks. “Now, come help me out.” 

Her voice rasps in a way that makes your head spin. Your head takes you to an entirely different image in your head that has nothing to do with this patient and everything to do with the two of you alone. 

“Are you still with me?” She frowns. “Are you feeling okay?” 

She places her hand on your face, feeling for a fever. This only makes your face heat further.

“You’re a little warm.” Her frown deepens, and she looks at you with concern. “But nothing too serious.” 

You let out a breath of relief quiet enough to keep to yourself. 

Cassie clears her throat, clearly coming to her senses, “Shall we?” 

“We shall.” 

Later in the day, when triage slows down, Cassie moves into the trauma bay. She wanted to get her hands dirty, hoping it makes the day move a little quicker. 

After her interaction with you this morning, she was feeling particularly uncomfortable. Her clothes felt too tight on her body, the heat between her legs never fading. Not as long as she’s in proximity with you. 

She sits, finally, at around seven. She chews on a granola bar, silently charting. That is, until Trinity approaches her. 

“Hey.” Trinity leans over the desk. “What you got there?” 

“A granola bar?” Cassie says as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. She goes back to chatting before realizing Trinity still hadn’t moved. “Did you need something, Dr. Santos?” 

“I guess I’ll get right to the point.” She rolls her eyes so hard, it almost looks like her eyes will get stuck.

“Please do.” Cassie doesn’t look up. 

“What do you think about y/n?” 

Cassie’s heart beats quicker, her teeth sinking into her cheek. 

“She’s sweet.” That wasn’t the best response. And definitely wasn’t what Trinity was looking for. But Cassie can’t help but bite. “What, are you asking for you?” 

“Maybe.” She shrugs. “She’s a sweet girl.” Trinity agrees, her eyes never leaving Cassie’s face. The slightest change in expression could make a big difference in their operation. “We aren’t very close, but I wouldn’t be against getting to know her on a deeper level.” 

Cassie has to keep the rage bubbling in her stomach down. You weren’t hers. And you never would be. Maybe this was good. Maybe it would make her get rid of the feelings. Rid of the one thing she hates herself for. 

“I say..” Cassie clenches her jaw. “go for it.” 

“Really?” Trinity looks genuinely surprised. “You guys are so close. I figured.. maybe—“

“Maybe what?” Cassie snaps, nostrils flaring angrily. “What are you insinuating, Dr. Santos?” 

“Nothing.” Her lips turn down, shaking her head. She has to suppress the smirk that wants to spread across her face. She had Cassie right where she wanted her. “Any words of advice? For when I ask her out?” 

“This is wildly inappropriate, Dr. Santos. I suggest you drop this conversation before it becomes a problem.” Cassie knows she’s about to make a scene. But she doesn’t seem to care. She lowers her voice, “Bring this up again, and you will regret it.” 

Cassie gives her a hard glare before she moves past Trinity, walking down the hallway. 

“I’ll take that as a win.” Trinity smirks to herself. 

Samira appears behind the other side of the desk, “I think that’s all the proof we need.” 

“I think so, too.” Trinity nods. 

“Now what, Captain?” Samira turns her head towards Trinity, Victoria, Mel, and Dennis meeting together. 

“Now, we get them in the same room. Together.” Trinity smirks. 

“But how?” Victoria shakes her head. “We can’t just.. set them up on a date. Can we?” 

“No.” Mel declares. “That’d be too obvious. They talk. They’d figure it out in five minutes.” 

“Then what?” Dennis asks. 

“We’ll figure it out.” Trinity nods. 

“Well it needs to be quick.” Samira insists. “The week is flying by. If we don’t do something now, nothing will happen.” 

“We’ll figure it out.” Trinity repeats, this time sounding sure. 

When Friday comes, the groups at a loss. They have no idea what to do, and their timeline is coming to an end. Friday marks the beginning of the weekend. 

“I mean, what now?” Mel keeps her voice hushed even though they are the only ones in the exam room. All five of them, smushed together in the small area. 

“Yeah, this marks the end.” Samira shrugs, her arms crossing over her chest. “We failed. We couldn’t do it.” 

“Not necessarily. We still have time.” Victoria insists. “We know they both like each other. We’ve established that. We just need to get them somewhere. Together. Alone.” 

“But how?” Dennis shakes his head. “It’s never gonna work. We don’t have an idea. And we’re on a time crunch.” 

“I have an idea.” Trinity speaks up, squishing her bottom lip between her pointer finger and thumb. “It’s going to sound crazy, but I need you to listen to the entire thing before you say no.” 

“I’m gonna hate this.” Mel mutters, staring at the ceiling. 

“Okay, so, we know McKay has feelings for y/n. And that they are reciprocated.” Trinity counts on a finger. 

“Yeah, Victoria just said that.” Dennis points out. 

“So..” 

“So what? It’s a lost cause. We should just give up while we’re ahead. Maybe they are in that situation where you really like someone but neither of them say anything so you push it down until it’s too late.” Samira rants. 

“Something to share with the class, Mohan?” Trinity jokes. 

“No. Just— no.” 

“So. We need to prove to them that they like each other. Cassie has no clue and neither does y/n. We need to fix that.” 

“But how?” Mel looks confused. “I mean, we can't just make them say it.” 

“But what if we did?” Trinity says. “What if McKay did say it?”

“What? Like truth serum?” Victoria asks, giving her a weird look. 

“No, Crash.” Trinity rolls her eyes. 

“You saw what happened last time you tried that. It didn’t work. She could report you.” Dennis says, his voice lowering at his last sentence. “Maybe Samira’s right. It’s probably a lost cause.” 

“No, you guys aren’t listening.” Trinity places her fingers into the corners of her eyes. 

“Then explain.” Victoria attempts to hurry her. “We don’t have all day.”

“What if.. we took McKay’s phone?” Trinity looks around at the group, met with nervous, unsure expressions. “And before you say no, hear me out. She’s always losing her phone. I mean, she’s left it here overnight before. So, we grab it when she leaves it sit. We wait for them both to make it home before we send the message.” 

“Who’s doing the grabbing? I— I don’t want any part in that.” Mel shakes her head profusely. “I don’t want to get in trouble.”

“I don’t know.. she might thank us after.” Samira nods. “I mean, she was practically begging me to find someone to have sex with her.” 

“Exactly.” Trinity nods along. “I’ll do the phone snatching, don’t worry. And I’ll send the message. But we need to figure out what it says.” 

“Something like.. come over?” Dennis shakes his head. 

“No, that’s too simple.” Victoria bites her lip. “y/n won’t take it seriously. She’ll think she’s drunk, or something.”

“How about we start it like.. ‘I know it’s late.. and I swear I’m not drunk, but..’” Mel offers, trying her best not to shrink under the gaze of the others. “Can— can someone else add?” 

“‘I’m not drunk, but.. I’m thinking about you.’” Dennis adds. 

“‘It’s so quiet without Harrison here.’” Samira nods. 

“‘Too quiet. It’d be nice to have a little company..’” Victoria smiles, shrugging one shoulder. 

“This is really great guys. Keep going.” Trinity is typing the message in her notes app for later. 

“‘Again, really sorry it’s late, but.. maybe you’d want to come over?’” 

“‘I think about you a lot. Even when I shouldn’t.’” 

“‘And I have the feeling you do too.’” 

“‘I’ll be waiting. Come whenever.’” 

“Double meaning.” One side of Trinity's lips turn up in a smirk. “I like it. This is perfect guys. I think we have what we need.” 

“Okay. So, I’ll distract her right before shift change. She always leaves her phone on the desk right before she heads to the locker room. When she’s debriefing.” Samira nods. 

“Perfect. Then Huckleberry and I will send the message a little after ten. Perfect amount of time for them to get home. Maybe even a little shower.” Trinity says. 

And so they do just that. With the help of Mel’s rambling, they manage to keep Cassie distracted long enough for Trinity to grab the phone and leave. Dennis following behind her. 

Victoria stands at the desk, speaking to all the nurses. Keeping them in the latest drama with a disastrous date she went on last week. 

When Cassie returns to the desk, in search of her phone, Victoria attempts to help her. After a few minutes, she suggests maybe Cassie should just head home and get some sleep. Letting her know she’ll drop it by her house if she finds it. 

With a hug, Cassie leaves through the double doors, headed for home. 

Victoria sends a message saying it worked and that Cassie is heading home now. 

And so the plan went with flying colors. Right before Trinity and Dennis get into bed, they send the message. 

Cassie: I know it’s late.. and I swear I’m not drunk, but.. I’m thinking about you. It’s so quiet without Harrison here. Too quiet. It’d be nice to have a little company. Again, really sorry it’s late, but.. maybe you’d want to come over? I think about you a lot. Even when I shouldn’t. And I have the feeling you do too. I’ll be waiting. Come whenever. 

They hit send together, shutting the phone off when your read receipt comes up. 

“You don’t wanna.. see if she responds?” Dennis asks with a surprised expression. 

“No.” Trinity sighs. “I think that’s between them.” 

The message comes a little after ten. After you get out of the shower. You didn’t think you’d hear from Cassie for the rest of the night. Figured she was about ready to tuck into bed. But maybe you didn’t know her as well as you thought. 

Cassie: I know it’s late.. and I swear I’m not drunk, but.. I’m thinking about you. It’s so quiet without Harrison here. Too quiet. It’d be nice to have a little company. Again, really sorry it’s late, but.. maybe you’d want to come over? I think about you a lot. Even when I shouldn’t. And I have the feeling you do too. I’ll be waiting. Come whenever. 

You bite your lip, unsure whether you should go or not. You want to. You really want to. More than anything. But what if this changes everything? She’s your closest friend other than Samira, regardless of your feelings. 

Fuck it, you think. You grab a sweatshirt and pull it over your head, grabbing your keys as you make it out the door. 

You won’t lie, you went a little over the speed limit. But if Cassie texted, you would always come. 

You knock on the door quickly, not wanting to waste any time. As soon as the door opens, your lips are on hers, not holding back. 

She lets out a noise of surprise, and it’s the hottest thing you’ve ever heard. Her hands are running through your still wet hair, coming down to your neck to pull you closer. Her hands run down your back then, squeezing the plush of your ass between her hands.

“Jump.” She says between gasps of air. She lifts you with ease, pushing you back against the door, slamming it shut. She holds you with one arm, your legs wrapped around her waist. 

Her other hand wraps around the side of your neck, your hands running through her hair now. 

Cassie removes her lips from yours, a small whine coming from your mouth at the loss of contact. But her lips are back on your skin. Hot on your cheek as she trails down to your neck. 

“Cass..” You lean your head back. 

“I know, baby..” She sucks on the skin of your collar bone, low enough to be covered by your scrubs tomorrow. “I’ll take care of you, don’t worry.” 

She pushes off the door, making her way down the hall until she reaches her bedroom. 

She lowers you onto the bed softly, lips never leaving yours. She slots her leg between your thighs. 

Cassie reaches for the hem of your sweatshirt, waiting for you to break the kiss to pull it over your head. You do so, lips back on hers in a second. You weren’t wearing a bra, because you’d planned to get into bed, so you're bare chested in front of her. 

“God, baby, you’re beautiful.” She leaves gentle kisses along your chest, occasionally leaving a bite, soothing it over with her tongue. “You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for this.” 

“Me either.” You gasp as her tongue swirls around your hardened bud. Her hand reaches up to pinch the other nipple. 

“I bet you’re so wet, aren’t you?” She lets go of the nipple with a pop, her lips biting and teasing at the other one.

“Cassie.” You breathe out. “Please.” 

“Please, what? Use your words for me. Be my good girl.” She is back to kissing your neck.

“Please touch me, Cass. I’ve waited so long.” Your words make her chuckle. 

“It’s only been a few minutes.” She looks into your eyes, keeping your attention. “Where do you want me to touch you? Be specific.” 

“Cassie..” You throw your head back, closing your eyes. “Don’t make me..”

“Look at me.” She moves your neck so your eyes are on hers. She looks so good like this—red cheeks, lips swollen, mused hair. Her hair was messy and you found it so hot. Her bangs were parted slightly, hair falling into her eyes. 

Instead of saying it, you remove her hand that’s still pinching your nipple, and move it towards your heat. Under your leggings, right where you want her— no, need her. 

You shudder at the contact, and Cassie groans, rubbing tight circles around your clit. She admires the way you writhe underneath her, leaving more bites in between your tits, marking her territory. As if you were ever someone else’s. She slides her finger down your slit, your slick gathering on her fingers. 

But in her eyes, Trinity had a thing for you. It was evident. The way she approached her, asking for help. Asking what you liked, asking for help to ask you out. 

It raged her. More than usual. Even though it shouldn’t have. 

All the thoughts of why this shouldn’t happen, leaves her head when you gasp and buck into her hand. She needs you. Need to see you. Taste you. 

She removes her hand from your leggings, a small breathy laugh leaving her throat when you whine and beg. 

“Don’t worry, baby.” Her mouth reaches yours, a searing kiss as she hooks her thumbs underneath your leggings. She pulls them down and off your legs with ease. “We’re just getting started. Need to taste you. That okay?” 

You nod your head quickly, “Please.” 

“No underwear, either.” She makes a tsk sound. “You plan on coming over here, hm?” 

“I—“ Your words quickly catch in your throat as her tongue makes contact with your clit. The sounds coming from her mouth are filthy, but it turns you on even more. 

She flattens her tongue, moving her tongue too quick to be human. 

“Oh, God.” You cry out, hands gripping her hair so you can see her face. 

“Such a good girl.” She sucks on your clit, sinking two fingers into you. “So good for me.” 

“Cass..” You whimper, overwhelmed with how good she's making you feel. 

“So sweet.” She licks your clit one more time before moving her fingers in and out. “How have you been hiding from me this whole time? Could’ve had you every night like this.” 

You moan at her words, the filth leaving her mouth making your stomach tighten. She lifts her other hand to your nipple, rolling the bud between her skilled fingers. 

She spits on your clit, her thumb sliding over it with ease. She feels the way you’re clenching around her fingers. 

“That’s it, baby. Just like that.” She’s looking at you, slick all around her mouth. Her words make you tighten around her fingers again, and she lets out a teasing laugh. “You like it when I talk you through it, huh?”

“Yes Cass—“ You let out a loud moan when she curls her fingers just right. 

“You’re so close.” She picks up her pace. “I can feel you, baby. Why don’t you come for me? Make a mess of yourself for me.” 

Your back arches, the coil in your stomach tightening more by the minute. She removes her fingers and has her mouth back on you. You finish in seconds, legs shaking, hand pressing her head closer against your heat. 

“Fuck.” Cassie’s voice is muffled in between your legs. “So good, baby. Perfect.” 

You need a minute to catch your breath, scratching your hand against Cassie’s scalp. You pull her towards you, her mouth on yours. Her tongue slides against your own, the taste of yourself on her tongue.

“Could’ve had you this whole time. Way better than any food I’ve ever eaten.” She whispers in your ear, your lips attaching to her neck. Without thinking you suck a mark way too high to cover with her shirt tomorrow. 

“Oops.” You bite your lip when she moves her head to look you in the eye. Her eyebrows raise, and you can’t help but flush all over again. 

“Oops?” She looks over your face. “You’re gonna pay for that, missy.” 

“Fine by me.” You pull her face towards yours, needing more. “I think it’s your turn. I’ll make it up to you.”

“It’s okay.” She shakes her head, caressing her hand over your cheek. “Now I understand why your face was so hot the other day. You were thinking about me, weren’t you?” 

“Stop deflecting.” You run your hand through her hair by her ear. “Want you to sit on my face.” 

“You sure?” She looks at you, her eyebrows drawn together. 

“Absolutely.” 

You run your hands down her back until you reach the top of her sweatpants. You push them down, motioning for Cassie to lift her hips so you can remove them the whole way. 

Her lips are back on yours, and you slide one hand down her stomach until you reach her. She’s soaked, your fingers slipping right over her clit. Her hips jut into your leg and she moans into your mouth. 

“Fuck.” She shutters. “It’s been a while.” 

You don’t say anything. Instead, you lay flat on your back, giving her the look that says ‘any time now.’ 

With a reluctant sigh, she lifts her body over your face, balancing on her knees. 

“Tell me if I’m too heavy.” Her hands find your hair. “Or if it's too much. I’m serious.” 

“I believe you. Now come on, I’m starving.” 

She lets you wrap your arms around her thighs, pulling her onto your face. 

“Oh God.” Her hands find the wall for any sort of grounding, but there’s nothing to hold onto. 

She grinds her pussy onto your face, lewd sounds coming from her mouth as she gets close embarrassingly quick. 

One hand slips under her shirt and to her tits. You grip the flesh, your palm grazing against her nipple just right. 

“Fuck, I’m gonna come.” Her legs shake around your head, your tongue moving faster. “Fuck, y/n. Just like that. So good. It’s so good.” 

She comes a minute after that, grinding onto your face to ride out the climax. After taking a second to breathe, she climbs off your face. She lays beside you, facing towards you. 

You turn on your side to look at her too, sitting in silence for a couple minutes. 

“You okay?” She runs her thumb over your cheek. 

“Better than okay.” You smile and she lifts her head to place a small kiss on your forehead. “I’m with you.” 

She stays there for a moment, relishing in the feeling. Her lips planted against your head. 

“Do you want me to go?” You ask in a soft voice, the newfound confidence from earlier nowhere in sight. 

“No.” She shakes her head. “Stay, please.” She lays flat on her back, pulling you close to her, your head finding its home on her chest. 

You lay there for a long time. You want to sleep but there’s a million thoughts running through your head. You think about how work will be tomorrow. About whether Cassie will talk to you or avoid you like the plague. 

You wonder if she’ll be able to look you in the eye without blushing. Or if she’ll be cold and short with you. 

You didn’t even know this was a possibility until about an hour ago. Always thought it was one-sided, unrequited. You’ve had the biggest crush on her for years. Never thinking it’d go anywhere. 

Would she want to do this again? Want to do more than this? Would she want to date? Or would she just want no strings attached? It was hard with Harrison, you thought. It wouldn’t be an ideal arrangement, would only end in your heart breaking, but you’d do it if it meant you got to have Cassie like this. 

You desperately hope she wants more than this. That she wants to lay in bed with you, take care of you when you’re sick, order gross takeout and laugh on her couch until you're way past your bedtime. 

But you’d do no strings attached. 

By the time Cassie speaks again, you're spiraling. Fully convinced Cassie doesn’t want a relationship—only sex. 

“You know, I meant what I said earlier. I didn’t think this was an option.” She runs her fingers up and down your arm. “Us.” 

Your heart beats in your chest, dropping to your stomach. She probably just meant sex, right? 

“Me either.” You whisper, not trusting your voice. 

“What’s on your mind?” You feel her tilt her head so she can get a better look at you. “y/n?” 

You feel your heart rise back up to your throat, unable to say anything. 

“Hey, look at me.” You manage to tilt your head up so she can see your face. Your eyes are glassy, and your chin trembles. It’s so small she almost misses it. But it’s there. “What’s the matter? Was it not good? Did I hurt you?” 

“No, no.” You shake your head. “No, it’s not that.” 

“Then what is it?” There’s nothing but concern for you in her eyes. “Talk to me.”

“It’s just..” You close your eyes, a tear escaping. She catches it with her thumb before it makes it too far. “I’m gonna talk a lot, and I just want you to listen before you say anything.”

“Okay.” She nods quickly. “Yeah, okay.” 

“I don’t know what to think right now. There’s a million thoughts running through my head right now. I don’t want this to be a one time thing. I want to be with you again. Whether it’s dating you or just occasionally hooking up.” You maintain eye contact with Cassie, occasionally searching her face for any emotion, but you’re unable to read her. “I’ve had the most massive crush on you since I started at the hospital, and I just don’t know what to think. I want to date you, but if you don’t want that, I’m okay with just being fuck buddies every once in a while.” 

She’s searching your face, she can see how hurt you are. She doesn’t want to be occasional. She wants you. In ways she shouldn’t. She knows it’s wrong. But she doesn’t give a damn. She wants—no needs you in her life. 

“And if it’s not reciprocated— my feelings— just tell me. I—“ 

“Woah—“ She cuts you off. 

“Let me finish. Please.” Your eyes are begging, and she can’t help but nod, giving you the go ahead. “I don’t know if it was just a moment of weakness for you. Like, if someone just threw themselves at you and you just went for it because of some pent up sexual desire or whatever. But I just want you to know that I like you. More than I should. And I never intended on doing anything about it, but then you texted me tonight and I just went for it. I don’t know.” 

She wipes the tears that slipped out while you were talking. Not sure what to do first. She wants to kiss you, address everything you just said, and pull you into her further. 

She lets out a shaky breath, “Okay..” 

You bite your bottom lip, scared of what she’s about to say. For a full three seconds you’re convinced she’s going to let you down easy. 

“First, it’s always been reciprocated. I’m pretty sure every single person who works at the hospital can attest to that.” Her hands cup your face. “Second, I did have some pent up sexual feelings, but that has nothing to do with what happened tonight. If I didn’t want you like that, I would’ve let you down and sent you away. Got that?” 

You nod, letting her pull you in for a kiss. 

“Third, I'm not the type to do a friends with benefits situation. Alright? I’m not even really the type to do a hookup unless I intend on having something with them.” 

“Okay.” You let out a relieved sigh. “Okay.” 

You kiss her again, but this time it feels different. More intimate. You pull back slightly, your lips brushing hers before you attach back onto hers. Your tongue slips past her lips and she touches it with her own. 

Abruptly, she pulls back, “Wait.” 

“What? Did I do something wrong?” You frown, and she can see you retreating back into yourself. 

“No, no. It’s just that..” She looks like she’s recounting a memory. Like she forgot to do something. “You said I sent you a message?” 

“Yeah. Something about Harrison not being here and that it was too quiet. You asked me to come over, remember?” You look confused. 

“That wasn’t me.” She shakes her head. “I lost my phone at work. I don’t even have it. You sure you don’t have any other Cassie’s in your phone?” 

“Pretty sure. And you’re definitely the only Cassie I know with a son named Harrison.” You remind her, a small laugh escaping your lips. 

“True.” She laughs, flashing you her heart-stopping smile. Her dimples make an appearance. You run your finger over them before placing a kiss on both dimples. 

“But.. then who sent me that message?” You pull back to look at her face. 

“I have no clue.” She shakes her head. “Victoria tried to help me find it, but she suggested I just go home. Wait.. you don’t think she took it, do you?”

“Victoria?” 

“She’s your friend, isn’t she?” She tilts her head. 

“Yeah.. but.. she wouldn’t do that.” You shake your head, closing your eyes for a second before opening them abruptly. “But now that you say something.. they’ve all been acting weird this week.” 

“Who?” 

“You know, Samira, Mel, Trinity, Dennis, and Victoria.” You say as if it’s obvious. 

Cassie makes a face when you mention Trinity's name. A mix of rage and disgust. 

“What?” You raise an eyebrow. 

“Nothing.” She dismisses. 

“No. Tell me.” You hit her shoulder. You give your best puppy dog eyes, “Please?”

“Just.. Trinity came up to me the other day asking if she should ask you out.” She says with a disgusted face. “She asked for advice.” 

“Trinity?” You bark out a laugh. “As in Dr. Santos? As in the intern who is practically drooling over Dr. Garcia?” 

A look of realization crosses over her face. 

“You’re too cute.” You throw your head back laughing, clearly finding this way funnier than she does. “You were jealous?” 

“Yeah.. I.. I kind of snapped at her. She didn’t mention it?” She questions, not believing this. 

“No. She did not.” You stay silent for a long time. Staring at her face, her small freckles that spread across her nose. You never noticed those before. Must be a summer thing. "So.. what? Do you think they conspired this? Like, they got together and planned this? Have a whole group chat without me?"

"I mean..." She presses her lips together in a straight line, thinking it over in her head. "Is it unbelievable?"

"No." You answer without thinking.

"But what started it?" She lets her mind race, trying to decipher the exact moment. She finally comes to the realization--Monday.

"What? Do you know?" Your eyes widen in excitement.

"Now that I think about it, I did mention to Samira on Monday that I wanted to get laid." She shrugs as if she just said it was sunny today.

"What?" You shriek.

"Don't worry, baby. You were the only one on my mind." She kisses your cheek, a small laugh leaving her lips when she pulls away and sees your face. "Now who's the jealous one?"

She pulls you closer into her, wrapping her arms around you. She holds you like that for a while. Until you both fall asleep. You sleep like a baby until your alarm goes off and you both have to get up. 

You take a shower together, a heated makeout session to start the morning off. She makes you both a cup of coffee, both smiling at each other nervously over the ceramic rims. Flushed cheeks when she pulls you in by the collar of your sweatshirt for one more kiss. 

When it’s too late to run back to your apartment, you realize you don’t have scrubs. Or a bra. After a freak out, Cassie offers you a pair of her scrubs, a little too big on you. She smiles at you, telling you how cute you look before pulling her phone out to take a picture. 

When you get into your car to head for work, you pull up the group chat with you and your friends. 

You: Trinity, just know that you’re next.

Natasha had never intended to date at college – she’d always been something of a player and she’d loved the idea of going to college and being able to flirt to her heart’s content. Natasha had been looking forward to the amount of one night stands she intended to have. At first that’s exactly what she’d done – many girls had left Natasha’s dorm broken-hearted when she’d told them it was just a one night thing. Despite her attitude there were still girls queuing up round the block to get close to her – everyone loved Natasha. That was just the way she liked it.

Until she’d met you.

You were on a different course to Natasha but she’d seen you around campus. Your nose was always in a book. There was a particular tree that you loved to sit beneath in the shade as you read. Natasha would watch as you ate lunch, your eyes never leaving the page as you lifted your sandwich to your mouth to take a bite. At first she’d scoffed and made a bitchy comment to her friends about what a nerd you were but deep down she was a little intrigued by you.

There was something about you that drew Natasha to you. Despite thinking you were quite nerdy it was clear to see that you were pretty. Pretty in a quiet way – you clearly didn’t put much importance on looks, that was obvious from the clothes that you wore. They were more about practicality than style. Natasha found herself spotting you everywhere on campus. You always seemed to be alone.

One day Natasha found you sitting in your usual favourite spot and she approached you, folding her arms as she stood over you “Do you not have any friends or something?” When you didn’t reply she scoffed and said louder “Hello! I’m talking to you.”

You still didn’t even look up and Natasha felt a stab of irritation “Are you fucking deaf?” She snapped before bending down and waving her hand in front of your face “HELLOOOOOOOO!”

You jumped once you saw her hand and made eye contact with her, pulling your headphones out of your ears “I’m sorry, did you say something?”

Natasha had stared at you for a moment before sitting down next to you “Seriously. Why are you always by yourself?”

You’d been surprised by Natasha’s sudden intrusion but you shrugged, your attention still mostly on your book “I just study a lot. I do have friends.”

“Oh yeah? What do you do with your friends?”

“We have a book club. And we play games.”

“So how come I never see them with you?”

“Oh they’re not here, they’re mostly at home. We do everything virtually.” You’d been surprised at how open you’d been with Natasha. She just had that effect on people “Everyone here… Well, I guess I just haven’t found my people yet.”

Natasha’s expression had softened at that, suddenly feeling a stab of sympathy for you. It seemed you had plenty to say – no one was willing to just sit and listen though. And you weren’t the type of person to approach other people. She could imagine you struggling to make friends “I never see you at any of the parties or anything. That’s a good place to make friends.”

You’d given a small, self-deprecating smile “Not really my scene. Besides, no one would want me there.”

“What makes you say that?”

“I just… I’m looking for people like me I guess, the other quiet weirdo’s who aren’t interested in the parties and-”

“Okay, no offence, but you are literally never going to find those people because they’re holed up in their own room like you.” Natasha said “Come to my sorority’s party tomorrow night. It’ll be fun. I’ll keep an eye out for you.”

She’d handed you a flyer and then left, not staying around to convince you because she was pretty sure that you’d turn up. People usually did as she asked and she was delighted when you turned up the following day. However her friend had laughed then leaned over and whispered in her ear “Seriously, what is she wearing? It’s supposed to be a party.”

Natasha looked at your outfit, taking in your casual jeans and band t-shirt. It was the same outfit you’d been wearing all day and she felt a stab of weird affection at the sight. Of course you hadn’t thought to change for the party. That wouldn’t have crossed your mind.

Despite the affectionate feeling spreading through her chest Natasha also felt a stab of embarrassment. Maybe she should’ve told you but… Come on. Everyone knows you get dressed up for a party. And it wouldn’t have hurt for you to do something with your hair; it was pulled back in your usual ponytail. All her friends began openly giggling at you “Seriously, who the hell even invited her?” One laughed “She’s such a fucking loser.”

“Yeah, she’s the one always reading, right?” Another had snorted “Seriously, she’s so boring.”

For the next hour or so Natasha had avoided you, pretending she hadn’t realised you’d arrived until she’d stumbled into her bedroom to change her shoes – the heels were finally starting to hurt her feet – when she found you sitting at the end of her bed.

“Hey!” Natasha quickly closed the door behind her and beamed at you “You made it! It’s so good to see you.”

You’d given her a small, shy smile “Yep. Honestly… Can’t see what all the fuss is about so far.”

“How did you know this was my room?”

“Your name and photo are on the door.”

Natasha grinned “Ah yeah, bit of a giveaway.” She came over and sat next to you on the bed “Have you had anything to drink?”

You’d shook your head “I don’t really do that.”

“Ah you’re a good girl, huh? In bed by 9PM reading a book?”

“I’m a bit of a night owl actually; I get my best work done at night.”

Natasha had laughed, reaching over and putting her hand on your shoulder “You’re so funny. And cute.”

Your face had flushed and you’d given a nervous smile “Nat-”

“Seriously, you’re the cutest girl on campus. Why aren’t the boys lining up outside your dorm?”

“I wouldn’t be particularly interested anyway, I like girls.”

Natasha had beamed “Perfect, me too! So you can be my girlfriend.”

Your eyes had widened “Girlfriend? Nat, we don’t know each other, we-”

“But we’ll get to know each other. Go on a date with me. Tomorrow.”

“Nat-”

“I’ll pick you up around seven. It’ll be fun, I promise!”

And thus your relationship with Natasha Romanoff had begun. She’d taken you off campus for your date and you’d gotten to know each other better. You’d told her about your single Dad who’d raised you when your Mom had passed away when you were younger, about your younger brother and sister, about the pressure you’d always felt to do well. Natasha had told you how she’d been adopted as a kid, about her own little sister, about her strained relationship with her own Dad but how she loved her mother.

After a couple of dates you’d made it official but you’d quickly realised Natasha didn’t want to be seen with you in front of her friends. She never wanted to meet up with you on campus and if you tried to talk to her while she was with anyone else she’d blank you.

“I just want to keep it secret.” Natasha had told you, one night when she’d snuck into your dorm because she knew your roommate was away for the weekend “What’s wrong with that?”

“Why do you want it to be a secret though?” You’d asked “Are you ashamed of me?”

“No!” Natasha lied “No, of course not-”

“Then why can’t you introduce me to your friends?”

“I… I just think it’s more fun this way, y’know?” Natasha had tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear “I’ll introduce you eventually, obviously. Just not yet. This is way more fun.”

Natasha had thought she could keep you a secret from her friends. The one thing she hadn’t counted on was that you were surprisingly quite clingy. And very affectionate. Natasha had assumed you would be reserved in public but you weren’t, you were always wanting to hold her hand, to kiss her, to wrap your arms around her waist. Whilst Natasha secretly loved it part of her also cringed, worrying that someone would see the two of you together and realise you were dating.

Natasha’s friends were still making bitchy comments about you – Natasha had assumed that with time they would stop but they continued and it was now bordering on bullying. Although they never said anything too mean to your face they’d gotten into the habit of walking past your favourite spot under the tree, holding their noses and giggling. They were saying that you smelt bad which Natasha didn’t understand – you were very hygienic and smelt great as far as she was concerned.

You weren’t an idiot. You’d noticed what they were doing and your eyes had swivelled to Natasha the first time, praying she’d say something in your defence but she’d simply looked away. She hadn’t joined in with the laughing but that wasn’t much of a comfort.

“Can’t you say something to them?” You ask “They’re your friends, they’ll listen to you.”

“They’ll stop eventually. They’ll get bored. Just… Ignore them.” Natasha replies.

Your shoulders slump at her response and Natasha feels a stab of guilt which she quickly pushes away. She’ll say something if they carry on… But they won’t. They’ll get bored eventually.

You tuck a strand of hair behind your ear “Okay… Well, Halloween’s coming up. I know you’ll probably be having a party at some point but they’re doing an outdoor screening of ‘Scream’ on the lawn, I thought that might be fun-”

Natasha immediately shakes her head as she always does when you suggest you do something together on campus “Horror movies aren’t really my thing.” She lies “You should definitely come to the Halloween party though, it’ll be fun.”

You sigh “Are you sure you want me there?”

“Yes, of course! I just… Don’t make it obvious we’re dating though, okay? You’ll have fun though, I know you love Halloween.”

You purse your lips together “What if your friends keep saying stuff to me?”

“They won’t, they’ll be too busy partying to even notice you’re there.” Natasha nudges you “Come on, you know you wanna come.”

Actually, you don’t want to go. You hadn’t been to a party since the first one Natasha had invited you to and that alone had been torturous for most of it. Now that Natasha’s friends are being nasty you relish going to the party even less. But Natasha’s giving you that wide-eyed look so you nod reluctantly “Yeah, sure. I’ll be there.”

The moment you walk through the door of the party Natasha feels a wave of affection and embarrassment all rolled into one. Since it’s a Halloween party you’d known to dress up but you immediately stuck out like a sore thumb. Natasha was dressed as a black cat and her best friends were wearing similarly cute outfits. You’re dressed as a skeleton – which would be cute but you’d clearly put your outfit together yourself, painting the bones onto an old black t-shirt and jeans. Natasha had assumed you’d have a Halloween outfit at your disposal but apparently not.

You spot her and go over with a big grin “Hey! Do you like my outfit? It took me forever to paint-”

Natasha’s friend snorts with laughter as she sees you approach “Oh My God… What do you look like?”

Another pinches her nose “God, have you ever heard of a shower?”

You glance at Natasha who immediately looks away. The other girls continue with their bitchy comments “Who invited you anyway?”

One girl touches your head and you flinch away as she roars with laughter “You could make fries with how greasy her hair is.”

Your hair isn’t greasy and you don’t smell. You look to Natasha again but she’s turned away and is pouring herself another drink. The other girls are still laughing so you quickly push past them and go out into the back garden. One of the girls laughs “She’s so pathetic.”

You sit on the steps outside and wait for Natasha to come out – you end up waiting a long time. Just as you’re about to give up and call it a night Natasha comes clattering outside and grins “Hey! What are you doing out here? The party’s in there y’know-”

“Why didn’t you say something?” You ask.

“About what?”

“Are you serious? About your friends being absolutely horrible to me.”

“They’re just kidding, you know what they’re like-”

“They’re bullying me Nat. I’m your girlfriend, you’re supposed to say something-”

“Shh, keep your voice down!” Natasha says urgently, looking around.

Your eyes water “Why are you so embarrassed to be seen with me?”

“I’m not-”

“Yes you are! You never wanna be seen with me. We never do anything on campus together. You let your friends say horrible things about me. What’s the problem Nat?”

Natasha looks away for a moment with a small groan before looking back at you; her lips pursed together “Y/N, I really like you. In fact, I might even be falling in love with you. But… I mean, look at you.”

You feel your stomach churn with anxiety at that statement and you take a step back “What do you mean?”

“Look at the way every other girl at that party was dressed and then look at you. Why didn’t you go out and buy something?”

“I can’t afford to buy a Halloween costume that I’ll only wear once Nat-”

“Then you should’ve told me and I could’ve lent you something. Okay, look, maybe this is my fault, after the way you came dressed to the last party I probably should’ve offered to help you get ready-”

You feel another stab of anxiety “What do you mean the way I came dressed last time?”

“You’re not an idiot Y/N, you must see the way the other girls were dressed. You… Well you’re not ugly but why do you dress like an old lady?”

“I thought you liked the way I dress.”

“I do! But…”

“But I embarrass you.”

“No! I- Look- I don’t know, okay? I think you’re cute; I like you the way you are… But my friends-”

“Mean more to you than I do I guess.” You nod slowly and look away “That’s awesome.”

“Y/N-”

“No, you know what; you think I wanted to come to this stupid party? I hate it. I fucking hate it. How come I’m always doing things you want but you can’t ever do anything I want? And why even invite me here if you’re just going to ignore me all night? You’re pathetic Nat and I don’t want anything to do with you anymore.”

You shove past her and go into the house. She doesn’t come after you and you’re not surprised – she’s not going to make a big scene in front of everyone. You make it to the front door and push it open only to run smack bang into someone.

“Wow, I’m so sorry! Not watching where I was going as usual- Wow, your outfit is so cute. Homemade, right?”

Your eye-brows furrow as you try to figure out if this girl is being sincere or making fun of you like the other sorority girls. You’ve not seen her before but she’s really pretty and wearing a really cute outfit “I uh… Yeah, I made it. You look cute, what are you?”

“I’m a Sokovian fortune teller, a little nod to my home country.” The girl says proudly, giving you a big smile “I’m Wanda.”

She holds her hand out and you take it hesitantly, still not sure if she’s making fun of you “Y/N.”

“Are you leaving? I’m getting a bit bored to be honest; all these weird men keep coming and talking to me. I’m trying to make friends with all the other girls; I joined late this semester so I have a lot of catching up to do. Visa problems, I’m an international student.” Wanda laughs “Sorry, I’m yapping! What I meant to ask was - do you want to do something?”

You hesitate, glancing over your shoulder into the house then you look back at Wanda “I uh… I don’t know. I think I just… I think I’ve broken up with my girlfriend just now, I don’t-”

“Oh no! Look, feel free to tell me to go away but I don’t think you should be alone right now. Why don’t we go somewhere a bit quieter? There’s this campus café, its open twenty four hours and they do the best brownies. Like literally I’ve only been here a week and they already know my name in there, I’m always there.”

You think about it for a moment before nodding. It would be nice to have some company. Despite being here a few months now you haven’t made any friends, only Natasha “Yeah. Alright then.”

Natasha doesn’t get in touch with you after the argument. She figures you’ll punish her for a few days and then you’ll forgive her. You won’t stay mad at her forever. She feels a little bad for being embarrassed of you but come on. It wouldn’t have killed you to read the room. After all, you could've asked Natasha about outfits if you weren't sure.

When Natasha first sees you with Wanda she doesn’t think much of it. Wanda’s new and seems to be the latest ‘it girl’, becoming just as popular as Natasha in a short space of time. She’s bubbly and warm and everyone loves hearing about life in her home country Sokovia. It made sense that Wanda was spending time with you; she was getting to know everyone. She’d leave you alone soon enough, when she realised how the others felt about you.

That didn’t happen though. Natasha was in the courtyard one day when she saw you beneath your usual tree and Wanda was sat next to you, scrolling through her phone whilst you read your book. A couple of Natasha’s friends walked past and held their noses as they giggled, causing Wanda to look up “Why are you doing that?” She snaps “That’s really rude.”

Both girls falter at that and one of them mumbles something about how you smell. Wanda rolls her eyes “No she doesn’t. She smells just fine. Come sit with us and find out.”

You look up at that, a bit alarmed but both girls sit down and Wanda chats easily, not letting any awkward silences fill the air. Natasha watches the four of you, feeling a sudden hot stab of jealousy. The girls slowly seem to warm to you and when they apologise you accept it with good grace.

Natasha has to watch over the next few weeks as everyone’s attitude towards you shifts – all thanks to Wanda. Every time you do something that the others find a little strange Wanda just smiles and puts a positive spin on it “I really loved her Halloween costume, it was original.” Wanda tells the others “And homemade! She’s so fun.”

Natasha starts to see Wanda walking around with her arm your waist and she can’t take it anymore. The moment she sees you alone she approaches you “What the hell is going on?”

You look at her, your eyes widening a little in surprise “Oh, hey Nat…”

“Are you cheating on me with Wanda?”

“What? Nat, I broke up with you. Wanda asked me out and I said yes.”

“But we were together. We-”

“Nat, you don’t get to do this.” You fold your arms “You were embarrassed to be seen with me. Wanda isn’t. You don’t get to back pedal now.”

“I-”

“I want someone who I can be openly affectionate with. Someone who isn’t afraid to say that they love me in front of everyone. You weren’t that person Nat.”

“But I do love you.” Natasha says “And I don’t care who knows, I-”

“You only don’t care because everyone’s changed their opinion of me.” You say “And that’s not thanks to you Nat, that’s thanks to Wanda. I finally feel happy and secure, something I never felt with you.” You shrug “You had every opportunity to be brave. All you had to do was admit we were dating. But you were too scared.”

“Y/N-”

“I wish you the best Nat but I’m not interested. I’m happy with Wanda.” You give a small smile as you see Wanda approaching, a huge grin on her face as she spots you “I’ve gotta go.”

“Y/N, please-”

“Are you sure?” Wanda had asked after she brought it up and you’d said yes.Which is silly, because of course you’d be sure. You’re so very sure.

Wanda’s been toying with the idea of wanting to spice things up a bit for a long time and knowing how much you enjoyed getting your tits played with, it seemed like the perfect idea. Not to mention the fact that Wanda is very good at making you surrender to her with just one look and a smirk. It’s not a necessity, but it certainly helps. You just want to be taken.

You also want sex to hurt a little bit. Which is exactly how you got yourself into this situation.

Your nipples have always been sensitive, Wanda knows that for as long as you’ve been fucking, so this seemed like a solid way to start exploring. Not too surprising, not too intense, but just right. You’ve tried similar things before, Wanda loves twisting and pulling on your nipples and you love when she does it, but this is still a new thing.

“You look beautiful, sweetheart,” Wanda’s voice softly tells her from the other side of the room. You smile and squirm in delight, but you still don't feel like opening your eyes. Your other senses seem so much more heightened when you keep your eyes closed. Maybe you’ll bring up the use of a blindfold next time.

“Feel good,” you murmur, twisting your fingers into the bedsheets.

Wanda chuckles softly. “I can tell,” she says, her voice suddenly a lot closer. Suddenly, you feel expert fingers swipe through your wet slit.

You moan softly, spreading your thighs and arching your back. Wanda laughs again, but her fingers are gone just as fast as they appeared. You know better than to chase them, and you also know not to let the urge to touch yourself overwhelm you. You’re good to Wanda after all. You just want pleasure and that comes with a bit of pain, but you’re not a brat. At least you’re not feeling so right now.

“Not too tight?” Wanda asks, flicking one of you’s nipples with her damp fingers. It sends an electric sizzle down your core and right into your clit, which throbs between your legs. Touching your nipples usually does that to you anyway, but with the metal clamps around them it’s so much more intense, and you can’t help but push into the touch this time.

“Again, again,” you plead, tugging on the sheets so hard you’re afraid they might rip.

“I’m gonna take that as a ‘no’,” Wanda murmurs, using both hands this time to touch your nipples. She rubs her thumbs over the swollen nubs, squeezes them gently and then takes a hold of the clamps, pulling on them ever so slightly.

Your eyes fly open and instantly lock with Wanda’s as she yelps and bucks her hips. There’s a gush of wetness between your legs, covering your thighs and running down your slit to soak through your sheets. It feels so good and it hurts so much, you’re honestly confused about which sensation is more persistent, but your body responds in all the right ways.

“I’m going to attach the chain,” Wanda announces, her own gaze flaring with want. “I want to give you what you need, but I also very much want to take what’s mine.” She lets her eyes flicker down to where you are spread out for her and licks her lips.

You think you've never felt more desired in your life, and you briefly wonder why Wanda hadn’t brought this up sooner.

Wanda is careful in attaching the weighted chain to the nipple clamps and she lets it rest on your sternum to give you a few seconds to adjust to the change. The metal is cold against your skin, but it only adds to your arousal.

“Right,” Wanda says when she climbs onto the bed and in between your legs. “Jesus, if you only knew how hot you look right now.” She lowers herself to your stomach on the mattress and wraps her arms around your thighs.

“Wanda,” you whine, subtly rolling your hips. It causes the chain to slip to the side, off of your chest, and you gasp in surprise when it pulls on both of your nipples. Your pussy contracts around nothing and releases more slick. You’re so impatient for Wanda’s touch, you want to yank at your own hair.

Or maybe the chain, to see if you can come that way.

Wanda seems to lose her marbles right there and then, because her tongue is between your wet folds in an instant. Her left hand wraps around your thigh, making sure she keeps your legs spread, while her right hand slides up and picks up the chain. She pulls on it, just as gently as before, but it’s enough to make you scream.

“Fuck, fuck, Wanda, shit,” you babble, thrashing your head from side to side on her pillow. The pull on your nipples alone is enough to drive you crazy, but then Wanda is tracing her tongue along your labia, into your opening and around your clit, and you honestly think you might explode.

You’ve always loved being on the receiving end of oral sex, but oral sex has taken on an entirely different meaning since Wanda started licking you out on a regular basis. Wanda does things with her tongue that no man or woman seems to know the secret to. She knows exactly where to lick, where to suck, how fast to flick her tongue back and forth over your clit and how much pressure to use. You never last long when Wanda licks you.

The nipple clamps certainly don’t help.

“Baby,” you whimper, slipping a hand into Wanda’s coily hair. Wanda, in reply, sucks on your clit and pulls on the chain again. “Fuck!” you feel like your entire body is on fire and all you can do is let it wash over you. Your toes curl in pleasure and your eyes fall shut as you come on Wanda’s tongue. You throb, burn and ache in the best ways, all through your orgasm. It seems to last forever, but when you do eventually come down from it, you immediately loosen the nipple clamps and shove them away.

“Too much,” you pants, squirming. Wanda’s mouth is still hovering over where you just made a mess of yourself.

“But worth a repeat?” Wanda asks, running gentle hands over your thighs.

“Please.”

You grab onto Wanda’s shoulders and urge her to crawl up over you. You can’t verbalize what you want her to do, but Wanda has always understood you in a way no one else does. She straddles your waist and scooches up until her pussy is hovering over your mouth, just out of reach.

“Could have said you want me to sit on your face, baby. You can use your words,” she says, but you have no idea what words are right now, so instead you pull Wanda down and work her over like she’s your last meal.

────୨ৎ────

taglist:

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“Seriously? Who?”

Natasha lifts her fork, tilting it just enough to indicate across the room without drawing attention.

“Carmen. From the front desk. They’ve been dating since last month.”

You follow the direction of her gesture, eyebrows rising when you notice Carmen sitting in the corner. Tablet in hand, sure, but her eyes keep flicking upward—straight toward Jenn in the line. When their gazes meet, there’s a secret smile, a tiny wave, something almost invisible unless you were looking for it.

“…Huh,” you murmur, reluctantly impressed.

Natasha only nods, as if it’s obvious. She resumes eating, believing that the subject of this particular conversation is over after her words.

You notice a tiny smear of sauce clinging near her lip, and without thinking, you lean in and dab it away with a napkin.

“You got a little something,” you say softly.

Natasha doesn’t even react in surprise at your touch. She just takes the napkin from you with a distracted “Thanks,” eyes still on her plate.

You lean back, resting your chin on your hand, studying her with something between admiration and exasperation.

“So how’d you figure that out?”

She shrugs like it’s nothing, slicing into her food with precise care.

“Jenn’s lunch routine changed. She used to eat in her office, now she shows up whenever Carmen’s here. Plus, Jenn’s been wearing that silver bracelet Carmen wore every day until about three weeks ago. And whenever Carmen’s shift ends early, Jenn conveniently leaves a couple minutes later—even though she usually stays late.”

You blink, almost dropping your fork at the overload of detail.

“And you just happen to notice all of that?”

“It’s part of being a spy,” Natasha says, looking up with a faint smirk. “People tell you things without realizing it. All you have to do is watch.”

Before you can retort, a new group enters the cafeteria. You nudge her arm, pointing at someone in the middle.

“Okay, what about—”

“Crushing on Jeremy from IT,” she interrupts smoothly, not even bothering to turn her head.

Your jaw drops. “You didn’t even look.”

“I don’t need to,” she replies coolly, taking a sip of her drink. “She rearranged her gym schedule to match his. Switched brands to that chalky protein powder he drinks. And she nearly concussed herself last week trying to follow him around a corner.”

You gape, then narrow your eyes at her.

“You say you’re not into romance,” you accuse, jabbing your fork toward her, “but you’re basically tuned into everyone’s relationship at SHIELD.”

Her smirk deepens just enough to be infuriating. 

“I don’t have to be into it to recognize it. Tells are tells. That’s all it is—patterns, shifts, little details.”

You hum, a grin tugging at your lips as something mischievous sparks in your chest. You lean forward, voice lowering with challenge.

“Alright then. Since you’re so confident…do me.”

Her brows rise. “Excuse me?”

You rest your chin in your palm, grinning excitedly. 

“Figure out my crush.”

For the first time, Natasha falters. Just a flicker—but you catch it. Surprise. Maybe confusion. Definitely something unsettled before she schools her features back into cool indifference.

“You have someone you like?”

You shrug, your smile turning smug. 

“Mmhmm. Guess you’re not as sharp with the little details as you thought.”

Her eyes narrow on you, and you don’t miss the way her grip tightens subtly on her fork.

“Give me until the end of the week,” she says finally, standing to gather her tray.

You smirk at her teasingly.

“You need that long?”

Her look turns flat. 

“We leave on mission tomorrow. With actual gunfire and people trying to kill us. You want me to prioritize your love life over keeping us alive?”

You tip your head in mock consideration. 

“Multitask, Romanoff.”

Her huff is half amusement, half irritation as she adjusts her tray and tablet before attempting to grab her bag. 

“Fine,” she grunts, conceding the challenge.

You sweep the bag from her overloaded hands before she can manage it. 

“End of the week,” you call as you stroll away, flashing her a playful grin. “Let’s see how good the Black Widow really is…at noticing the little details.”

Natasha watches you go, eyes narrowing just slightly. 

You don’t spare a single glance toward anyone else in the room. No tells. No obvious trails. For someone she spends so much time with, she realizes she never noticed there was someone you liked.

That thought alone bothers her more than anything.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Natasha’s boots click quietly against the floor as she moves down the long row of lockers, her mind already sorting through mission details. She slows when she spots you in the next row, bent over the middle bench, lacing your boots.

She stops short, retreating a step back around the corner when she realizes you’re not alone. A weapons support tech she recognizes stands beside you, chatting animatedly while you respond with the same bright energy. 

Natasha’s eyes narrow when the other woman’s hand lands briefly on your shoulder before she departs with a smile. The touch is friendly, fleeting even, and yet irritating all the same. 

“You know she’s still tangled up in that on-again, off-again thing with Tess from legal,” Natasha blurts as she finally approaches.

You turn, one brow raised, clearly amused.

“Even I know that tidbit,” you tease, tugging your boots tight and rising to your feet. Hands settle on your hips as you tilt your head at her. “What are you suggesting, that she’s my crush?” 

Natasha considers, tilting her head. For a split second, she weighs the possibility before dismissing it, shaking her head as she strides to her locker.

“No. She’s not your type.” 

You chuckle, leaning your shoulder against the lockers beside hers, arms folded loosely across your chest. 

“And what exactly do you think my type is?”

Her hand freezes halfway into her locker. The question digs in deeper than she expected. For all her observation skills, she realizes she has no answer. You flirt often, but always lightly, never with any real heat. Not once could she recall you showing actual romantic interest in anyone. 

Irritation stirs in her chest at the gap in her knowledge. Her lips press thin before she finally mutters, “Just…not her.”

You hum thoughtfully at her clipped tone, pushing off the locker. 

“Well, you’re right again, Romanoff. She was just dropping something off for me.”

Natasha answers with a noncommittal noise, keeping her face buried in the depths of her locker as she gathers her gear. The sound of rummaging nearly masks your footsteps when, suddenly, a tug at her arm pulls her around.

“What—” she starts, but the words catch in her throat when you step into her space, close enough that she freezes.

For one breathless second, her pulse spikes as you lean in.

But at the last instant, you angle past her face, fingers working deftly at her waist. Natasha’s breath stills as she feels the brush of your hand close the clasp of her utility belt.

Then you lean back, patting the red hourglass buckle at her front. 

“Got them to finish the repairs just in time,” you announce proudly, turning away toward your own locker.

Natasha releases the air she’d been holding in a slow rush, her hands curling at her sides as she fights to steady the pounding of her heart. The warmth on her cheek feels out of place and unexpected. She brushes at it with the back of her hand, annoyed with herself. Why did her body react like that?

Her gaze drifts back to you.

You hum absently while you pack your duffel, tossing items in without care. Same as always. Nothing new, nothing different. 

Nothing to explain her reaction.  

Something slips from your locker with the next careless toss. 

Natasha stoops and picks it up—a photo, edges worn. It’s the group shot at the shawarma shop after the battle in New York. She remembers the moment, remembers the exhaustion in her bones as she sits between Steve and Clint.

But what catches her eye now is you. You aren’t looking at the camera. Your gaze is angled toward the three of them instead.

“Have you heard from any of them recently?” you ask casually, drawing her attention.

Natasha blinks, processing your question for a beat before handing the photo back. 

“Uh, no. Clint’s on vacation. And last I heard Stark’s still rebuilding.” 

You hum softly, sliding the picture back onto the inside of your locker door. 

“What about Rogers?”

Her brows draw together. She glances at the photo again, as if she could trace the direction of your gaze, pinpoint whether it lingered on the Captain. Her tone cools. 

“What about him?”

“I don’t know,” you shrug, zipping up your duffel. “It must be tough, adjusting to the modern world all alone.”

The spark of irritation comes so suddenly that it makes her jaw clench. Natasha slams her locker closed harder than she means to. 

“He’ll manage,” she says curtly before adding. “We should focus on our own jobs.”

You only laugh, throwing your duffel strap over one shoulder and—before she could react—snatching hers as well. 

“Whatever you say, Romanoff,” you say, walking towards the hangar bay.

Natasha lingers for a moment longer, her gaze sliding back to your locker. The group photo sits just inside. She exhales through her nose, trying to banish the nagging thoughts.

Steve Rogers probably isn’t your type either.

So why does just the possibility of it leave such a bitter taste in her mouth?

With a sigh, she follows after you, irritation simmering low in her chest and growing harder to explain.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Natasha lounges on the lush couch in the grand hotel lobby, ankle crossed neatly over her knee, a glossy magazine balanced in her lap. 

To the casual eye, she’s absorbed in the pages, but in reality, her gaze darts over the rim of the paper—tracking staff as they carry trays of glassware into the ballroom, noting security placement, measuring the rhythm of movement in and out of the gilded doors.

The comm device crackles faintly in her ear, and your voice filters through, light and curious.

“Do you see our target yet?”

Natasha exhales a soft breath, flipping the page like she’s genuinely invested in the article. 

“Still no,” she murmurs. “Nothing has changed since you asked me five minutes ago.”

Your sigh hums over the line, a note of boredom. Then your voice drops lower, the ghost of a teasing smile audible across the frequency.

“Maybe I just wanted to hear your voice.”

Her hand stalls mid-turn, the page hanging half-folded in her fingers. Natasha blinks once, forcing herself to return to her sharp and focused composure, but her chest betrays her with the faintest hitch.

Usually, she has no trouble brushing off your teasing, filing it under friendly banter and harmless distraction. 

But lately…lately the simple sound of your voice makes her pulse skip for some reason.

She clears her throat quietly, forcing her attention outward. 

Across the marble floor, movement catches her eye. A cluster of security streams through the doors, and in the center, exactly as expected, is the target.

“I see him,” she says, her voice cracking slightly, which she quickly covers with a soft cough.

On the comms, you shift, the rustle of fabric telling her you’re straightening in your seat.

“And the package?”

Her eyes flick between the security bodies and spot a slim metal case in the target’s hand. One of the guards moves to the front desk, and the target’s grip on the case shifts into perfect view. 

Natasha palms her phone and pretends to scroll before tilting it just enough to capture an image. She sends it over with a practiced ease.

“Nice work,” you say, approval warm in your tone. “It looks like that model requires a fingerprint scan to open.” 

Natasha lifts her phone to her ear, feigning a call as she considers the problem. 

Her gaze drifts toward the ballroom doors, where the staff are still bustling about.

At the threshold stands the event planner—clipboard hugged close, lips moving as she ticks off notes. When she glances up and her eyes catch sight of Natasha, her composure stumbles. She ducks her head, her cheeks flushing faintly as she pretends to fuss with her clipboard.

“So we lift the prints at the party,” Natasha says calmly, already slotting pieces of a plan into place.

Your soft laugh filters through with a hint of skepticism.

“And how exactly do you suppose we get inside?”

Natasha’s eyes flick back to the planner, who sneaks another look at her before quickly tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. 

Natasha feels the corner of her mouth curve. She tips her head, gifting the woman a small, disarming smile and a subtle wave. The shy grin she earns in return confirms it—an opening.

Natasha lowers her magazine just enough to murmur, “I’m working on it.” 

Before you can reply, she rises smoothly from the couch and crosses the lobby, her stride confident but unhurried. She stops just beside the planner, her posture easy and her smile warm.

“You’ve done a beautiful job with the room,” Natasha says, voice low and sincere.

The compliment lands instantly. The woman beams, shoulders straightening.

“Oh! Thank you—it’s been exhausting, but I think it’s finally coming together. Are you…a guest?”

Natasha shakes her head lightly. 

“Helping a friend who is. Their luggage got lost during the flight, so I came to make sure they had what they needed.” She lets the pause linger a beat, then adds smoothly, “Though I may be pressing my luck asking if there’s any chance of being a plus-one.”

The planner’s brows lift, interest sparking exactly where Natasha expects it.

“We might have last-minute passes,” she says quickly, flipping through her clipboard. “I could add a note to add you if you’d still like to come.” 

“That sounds lovely,” Natasha replies, resting a hand lightly on the woman’s arm, her smile just this side of intimate. “I hope that means I’ll see you there too.”

The woman chuckles, biting back a grin, before one of the staff calls her name. She starts to go, but glances back.

“What’s your name? For the list.”

Natasha gives the alias assigned to her mission. The woman scribbles it onto her notes, then flashes her a quick wave. 

“It was nice meeting you.”

“You too,” Natasha answers smoothly, watching as she disappears into the organized chaos of final preparations.

Once she’s gone, Natasha raises her phone again, pretending to resume her call.

“And now we have a way in,” she says softly, satisfaction threading her tone.

Silence answers. The accomplished warmth in her chest cools into tight concern.

“Hello? Is everything okay?” she asks, turning toward the exit, ready to head back to you if needed.

Finally, your voice filters back through the comm.

“All good. Just some connection problems. I’m back now.”

Natasha frowns faintly. Something in your tone is off. It’s no longer playful, but clipped. Before she can press, you clear your throat, steering the moment away.

“Can you figure out what room he’s staying in? I’ll sneak in and take the case while you lift his prints at the party.”

The frown deepens. She doesn’t like the sharp pivot or the stiffness in your voice.

“Are you sure you’re—”

“Natasha.”

The curt way you say her name stills her instantly.

“Focus on our own jobs, remember?” you add with a teasing lilt, though the note rings hollow compared to earlier.

Natasha swallows, turning back into the lobby, her expression once again carefully neutral.

“…Yeah. Sure,” she mutters, though the word sits heavy in her chest.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Natasha sits cross-legged on the narrow bed, eyes tracking you as you pace the length of the safehouse. The single room feels even smaller with your restless movement, your gaze fixed on the tablet in your hands as you scroll through hotel blueprints.

You mutter to yourself occasionally, weighing entry points and fallback routes, but when she tries to interject, all she gets are clipped one-word answers or noncommittal hums.

She narrows her eyes. Something is off—it has been off since the hotel lobby. She just can’t put her finger on what.

A sharp knock breaks the tense quiet. Both of you freeze for half a beat, instincts snapping in. You exchange a look, then move in a practiced tandem.

Natasha slips from the bed, gun in hand from beneath the nightstand, while you draw one hidden by the doorframe.

“Oi! Open up already! I haven’t got all day!”

Natasha exhales sharply at the familiar voice. You relax too, though your weapon stays in your hand until you swing the door open.

Mason leans casually against the frame, suitcase in hand. His brow arches at the sight of your guns.

“Always a warm welcome with the two of you,” he deadpans, brushing past you into the room.

Natasha huffs, tucking her weapon away. 

“What are you doing here?”

“I called him,” you say, shutting the door and turning to Mason expectantly. “Did you get it?”

He presents the case with mock ceremony. 

“Here you are. Now we’re square, yeah?”

You take the case and tilt your head in consideration. 

“Is one favor really enough after what you put me through at that last safehouse?”

“Hey,” Mason protests with a hand raised, grinning, “I was trapped there with you, too.”

Natasha frowns, her gaze darting between you and him. There’s an ease in your banter with Mason—inside jokes, stories she isn’t part of. The space between you two is minimal also, too casual for her liking. She tells herself it’s nothing, but irritation prickles anyway.

The irritation grows as she realizes you’ve spoken more words to Mason in these few minutes than you have to her in the past hours. Before she can think better of it, she’s already stepping forward, pressing Mason back toward the door with a polite but firm hand.

“Alright, we need to prep for tonight,” she says briskly, ushering him over the threshold. “Thanks for the delivery. Until next time.”

His brows lift, but before he can argue, the door clicks shut and locks.

She turns to find you perched on the bed with the case, already working the clasps.

“That was a little rude,” you comment, a grin tugging at your lips when you glance at her. The teasing tone doesn’t match the way you immediately look back down, shutting her out again.

Natasha’s patience snaps. 

“Alright, what’s up with you?” she demands, folding her arms as she steps closer.

You stop fiddling with the lock, lift your eyes, and fix her with a steady look. 

“That woman at the hotel,” you say flatly.

Natasha blinks in confusion. 

“What about her?”

“How did you know she was interested in you?” Your shrug is casual, but the words are sharp. “That’s why you went over, right? Because you already knew she’d say yes.”

The question hangs heavier than it should. Natasha hesitates, suddenly cautious. She could give you a dozen technical answers, but instinct tells her the wrong one might make things worse. She taps her fingers against her arm, searching.

“I just…noticed,” she admits finally. “The little details. How someone looks, shifts, reacts. I can always tell when they like something—or someone.”

Your expression doesn’t soften. If anything, the slight clench of your jaw tells her she’s only made it worse. You hum, noncommittal, and turn back to the case.

Frustration knots in Natasha’s chest. She can feel you slipping back into silence, shutting her out again.

The locks pop open.

She leans forward instinctively, expecting some weapon or device.

Instead, you pull out a long red dress. Without a word, you rise and step in front of her, holding it up against her body.

“I knew it would look good on you,” you murmur, appraising her with softened eyes for a brief second. Then you drape the dress onto the bed and brush past her, back to your tablet. “Now you can notice all the people interested in you later at the party.”

This time, the edge in your voice is unmistakable.

Natasha’s mouth opens to respond, but she falters. She doesn’t actually know what the issue is, only that she’s missing something, and the fact that she can’t see it bothers her more than she wants to admit.

You curl up on the sofa, tablet balanced on your knee, already scanning blueprints as if she’s no longer in the room.

Natasha sighs, staring at the red dress lying stark against the drab blanket, before dragging a hand down her face. Confusion and annoyance churn together, and for once she has no read. No clear tells.

Just the unsettling certainty that she’s failed to notice some detail that matters most.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Natasha smooths her palms down the dress, the fabric gliding beneath her fingers. You were right—it fits perfectly. Too perfectly. She wonders, fleetingly, if Mason guessed her measurements or if you had given them.

When she finally exits the bathroom, she finds you already geared up in your black tactical suit, adjusting the straps across your shoulders, with your focus tight on your equipment.

“Can you help me with this?” Natasha asks quietly, turning her back to you and gathering her hair into one hand to bare the zipper.

“Sure,” you reply. The nonchalance of your tone makes her want to sigh, but she keeps still, bowing her head slightly so you have easier access.

Your palm steadies her lower back as your other hand finds the zipper and tugs it slowly upward. The soft scrape of metal teeth closing echoes in her ears. At the top, your breath ghost against the nape of her neck.

“You look beautiful, Natasha,” you whisper faintly, almost as if you didn’t mean to say it aloud. Then, just as quickly, your touch and presence vanish as you step away.

Natasha stays rooted to the spot. She releases her hair, letting it fall around her shoulders, and lifts her gaze to the mirror across the room. Her eyes widen at the sight of her reflection.

A flush blooms across her cheeks, one she can’t write off as heat or adrenaline. She knows this expression. The flicker of awareness, the telltale glow in the eyes, the way her pulse jumps—details she’s read a hundred times in others, but never noticed in herself.

Her head snaps over her shoulder. 

You’re focused on your gear again, oblivious to the rush of thoughts in her mind as the memory of your whisper hums in her ears.

Unconsciously, her heart beats faster, and the urge to step back into your space nearly overwhelms her. Her hand flexes at her side, restless.

But then she remembers. 

You already told her you like someone. The reminder settles like a stone in her chest. Natasha breathes deeply, pressing her feelings down beneath years of training.

As if sensing her stare, you glance up and offer her a small, reassuring smile. 

“Ready, Romanoff?”

Her throat tightens, and she forces herself to nod.

“Yeah. Let’s go.”

The party is bright and loud, chandeliers scattering light across polished floors and velvet drapes.

Natasha slips through with ease, greeted warmly by the planner who ushers her inside. A few pleasantries exchanged, and the woman is called away, leaving Natasha free to focus on the mission.

The target is easy to find, seated with his cluster of guards. 

Natasha approaches, glass of wine in hand.

One guard steps in her path, his palm pressing firmly against her shoulder. Natasha knocks his hand away, cold irritation flashing in her eyes, until the target waves him aside.

His leer is obvious, his gaze shameless. 

Natasha fights the urge to roll her eyes, pasting on a coy smile instead as she takes the offered seat beside him. She crosses her legs slowly, the slit of the dress shifting to bare a line of skin. Predictably, his attention locks there.

A few flirtatious remarks and practiced laughs later, he’s pliant in her hands. She passes him her glass under the guise of sharing. When she takes it back, her “slip” sends the last drops spilling onto him. Her apologies tumble out sweet and flustered, and he waves her off with a smile, completely unaware that his fingerprints are now captured on her scanner after she leaves his side.

“I got the prints,” she murmurs into the comm, moving swiftly toward the exit.

Static crackles before your voice cuts through, strained and layered with the sounds of impact and shattering glass.

“That’s… great.” A grunt follows, then the crash of something breaking.

Natasha freezes, then picks up her pace. 

“What’s happening?”

More noise filters in—grunts, a muffled curse, the slam of bodies colliding. Your voice returns, breathless but firm.

“I’ve got the case too. Just…finishing up here.”

Natasha presses the elevator button repeatedly, muttering under her breath. 

“You could just admit you need help.”

Your laugh comes, dramatic and almost mocking, despite the strain. 

“What? Everything’s fine.” Another grunt follows, less convincing this time.

When the elevator doors slide open, she bolts down the hall toward the sound of chaos. One door hangs ajar.

Natasha bursts in, gun raised—only to see you drop the last guard with a final, clean strike.

You straighten, sweat-damp hair sticking to your forehead, chest rising and falling. Spotting her, you flash a crooked grin.

“See? All good.”

You stoop to pick up the case and head past her, but Natasha steps into your path, hand pressing firmly to your shoulder. She tilts your chin with practiced precision, inspecting your face.

The moment her fingers brush your temple, you flinch. Her hand comes away slick with red. Natasha’s jaw tightens. She grips your chin again, forcing your eyes to hers.

“Next time, just ask for help.” Her tone is sharp and low.

You only stare back, wide-eyed, lips parting without words. 

That’s when Natasha realizes just how close she is, her body angled into yours, her grip still holding you there.

Heat climbs her cheeks before she notices something else. 

Your gaze flickers—downward, just for a breath, to her mouth—before darting away, and the color deepening on your face clearly isn’t just from exertion.

Her heart stutters. She recognizes this detail, too.

You pull back abruptly, her hand falling from your jaw.

“Let’s get moving before reinforcements show,” you mutter, brushing past without meeting her eyes.

Natasha turns and watches you go, pulse still racing, and suspicion coiling in her chest. Of all people, she knows these kinds of tells the best, and she knows exactly what they mean.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Natasha drops the last strip of gauze into the first-aid box and snaps the lid shut, but she doesn’t move away from you. She stays planted in front of the bed, her knees brushing yours as you sit at the edge, head still tilted slightly from where she bandaged you.

You squirm under her gaze, eyes fixed anywhere but her face—the window, the wall, the worn carpet. She notices every flick of your eyes, every shift of your shoulders. It’s not discomfort. It’s just nerves.

You sigh finally, rubbing at your palms. 

“Alright, I’ll call for back-up next time,” you mutter. “Just…stop whatever intimidation tactic this is.”

Natasha huffs, a low, amused sound. 

“This isn’t intimidation.”

Before you can retreat further, she lifts her hand and cups your jaw, thumb brushing lightly against your cheek. She tilts your face up toward hers, and the moment your eyes meet, she catches it—the sudden flush rising under your skin, the slight hitch of your breath.

Her own lips curve, triumphant and almost disbelieving.

“I knew it,” she whispers, more to herself than to you.

Your brows furrow. “Knew what?”

Her smile deepens. She kneels onto the bed, closing the distance, until she’s almost straddling your thighs. 

You lean back instinctively, bracing yourself on your elbows as she hovers above you.

“The person you like,” Natasha murmurs, voice low, teasing yet fragile at the edges. “Is it me?”

You blink in surprise, startled, your words stuttering in your throat. 

“How…?”

Natasha’s grin softens into something warmer. Her fingers slide up from your jaw to cradle your face fully, thumbs resting at the corners of your mouth. She leans in until your noses brush, her breath fanning over your lips.

“I notice things. Always have,” she murmurs. “But somehow I missed the one right in front of me.”

Before you can answer, she tilts your chin up and presses her mouth to yours in a soft, tentative kiss—testing, tasting, a question asked with her lips.

For a heartbeat, you’re frozen, caught between disbelief and the flood of warmth crashing through you. Then instinct takes over. Your hands rise almost on their own, sliding over the curve of her waist until your palms spread firmly against her hips, grounding both of you in the moment.

You kiss her back, slow at first, savoring the softness of her lips against yours. The tentative edge fades as you angle your head slightly, deepening the kiss, letting her feel in the press of your mouth what words never managed to say.

Natasha exhales against you, a shiver running through her that you feel in the flex of her body beneath your touch. The hand cradling your face tightens just a fraction, as though she’s afraid you’ll pull away.

Instead, you slip one hand up from her hip to her lower back, drawing her closer until there’s no space left between you.

When she finally breaks the kiss, it’s only because she needs to breathe. She stays close, resting her forehead against yours, her lips brushing yours with every shallow inhale.

You can feel the rapid beat of her heart in the way her chest rises against yours.

Her eyes open, and this time, you don’t look away. You keep her close, thumbs brushing soft circles over her waist, silently telling her the answer she already suspects.

“Sorry it took me so long to notice that little detail,” she breathes, her voice breaking faintly on the words.

A laugh escapes you, shaky but relieved. 

“What I feel for you is nothing little, Natasha Romanoff,” you murmur, brushing your lips against hers again.

This time, she doesn’t hesitate. The next kiss is deeper, hungrier—no longer testing but answering.

Natasha shifts forward, pressing you back against the mattress, her hands sliding to your shoulders, anchoring herself as she kisses you harder.

Your fingers tighten on her waist, tracing the outline of her dress, feeling her shiver under your touch.

She parts her lips under yours, a soft sound escaping her throat, equal parts relief and want.

The safehouse fades—the hum of the heater, the smell of antiseptic, the muffled city sounds outside—until there’s only the warmth of her body and the weight of the moment, long overdue.

Natasha breaks the kiss just enough to breathe, her forehead still against yours, her lips grazing your mouth with each word.

“Tell me if this is too much.”

You shake your head slightly, eyes locked with hers.

“Not even close.”

She smiles, a real, unguarded smile, before capturing your lips again—this time slower, deeper, her hands sliding behind your neck as yours explore the curve of her back, both of you surrendering to this little detail that the two of you share.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Chaos erupts in the Compound as soon as they arrive, but you’re one of the few people who fully welcome it.

Of course, you love Lila and Cooper, but Nathaniel ends up nestled in your arms as soon as Clint walks through the door.

“I missed you” you say to the baby, kissing everywhere you can and making him giggle, to the point where he drools a little. “Is that a teeth?”

“Yeah, he gets itchy” Clint says, defeated. You’d think that having been through this two times would make him more prepared for the growing pains.

Either way, you’re too entertained with the kids to notice Sam and Wanda coming back from training. Your girlfriend’s the one who comes in first, but she stops abruptly at the sight of Nathaniel in your arms, pointing at every kitchen utensil and clapping when you tell him the names of things.

“Heyo” Sam says, almost crashing against Wanda’s back. “Oh… baby fever, huh?”

“Shut up” she hisses, pushing him away as he cackles. Thankfully, you don’t hear it, registering her presence until she stands next to you.

“Hello, darling”

“Me, or the baby?” you joke, kissing her cheek. You pull away, making a face. “You’re stinky”

“Hey, not nice!” she pinches your side. Lila and Cooper come running to her to ask if she wants to play. “Wanda has to shower. Did you guys have breakfast?”

“We had donuts!” Cooper practically shouts.

“Yeah, I can tell” you mumble, noticing the clear signs of sugar rush. “Ok, while Wanda showers I’ll make some food and we can watch a movie, how about that?”

But Wanda’s still holding on to your waist, enthralled by the way you carry Nathaniel and he makes sounds to all your questions.

“Maximoff” you warn her after she makes no effort to move.

“So bossy” she forces herself to step away, rolling her eyes.

“Yeah, well, you like it” you tease.

Of course she does. Wanda can’t get the image out of her head, not even with the warm water of the shower. She gets lost in her reflection as she brushes her wet hair.

Wanda had always wanted a family, but it was different seeing you commanding a small army, while holding a very cute baby and making breakfast like it was just another day, instead of an anomaly of normalcy among the chaos of world saving work.

By the time she’s back in the common area, you’re watching a movie with the kids while they eat pancakes.

“Did you know that octopuses build gardens with stones they find?” Cooper asks while you watch Dory interact with the cranky octopus onscreen.

“Did you know they have three hearts?” you say, eyes glued to the screen as you give a piece of pancake to Nathaniel.

“Did you know…”

“Kid, you’re not gonna out nerd me. I used to drag my parents to the aquarium every weekend” you say, laughing when Cooper huffs and Lila shushes him.

“Very mature” Wanda whispers from behind the couch and you chuckle.

“Eat your food, babe”

“Yes, darling”

As the movie keeps playing, you can tell Nathaniel is staying still, probably ready to take a nap.

“I’ll take him to our room. You gonna be ok with them?” you ask Wanda, and she smiles, nodding as you take the baby in your arms, cooing softly.

I want to make a baby with you.

Her thought is so loud, she’s surprised it didn’t somehow end up on your own mind. But you seem blissfuly unaware, going to your room.

Lila and Cooper are definitely not ready for a nap, looking around to find something to play with. Hopefully, Steve learned his lesson and stored his shield away from kids.

“Movie day and no one told me?” Pietro says, and the kids turn around and scream at him. He does the usual, escaping them with his speed until they’re out of breath, giggling. “Where’s little Pietro?”

“Asleep with Y/N” Wanda rolls her eyes at her brother’s insistence of using Nathaniel’s second name. “I’ll go check on them, you got this?”

“Yeah. We can play basketball. You two against me” Pietro says, and the kids cheer.

Luckily, they take all their energy outside, as their baby brother is fast asleep in your bed. Wanda settles on her side, Nathaniel between you two. She admires his small hand around your finger, and even if the both of you are breathing evenly, at the slighest dip in bed, you can feel Wanda, reaching for her in your sleep.

An hour and a half passes. It’s almost comical how in synch you are with the baby, waking up the moment he does.

“Time is it?” you mumble, yawning.

“Lunch time” Wanda says, kissing your temple as Nathaniel crawls closer to the edge of the bed. You yelp, ready to catch him, but Wanda waves a hand, her magic bringing him back.

“That’s kinda hot” you say, making Wanda blush. “Oh, you’re shy suddenly. What? You don’t wanna make a baby with me?”

“Detka” she warns you, Nathaniel too busy floating around in the air, clapping excitedly as Wanda’s magic keeps him there. You’re about to lean forward to kiss her when there’s a frantic knock at the door.

“Help! Wanda!”

“Pietro?” she jumps off the bed, Nathaniel in your arms as the three of you walk out the room.

“We’re hungry”

“You idiot! I thought something happened!” she scolds him, making the kids laugh. “Oh. Pretend you didn’t hear that, please”

“Nice one, babe” you laugh, kissing her temple. “Come on, I’ll make some sandwiches”

“I’ll take little Pietro” Wanda’s brother says, eager to play with the boy.

“Careful” you glare at him, still holding on to the baby.

“I’m always careful” he snaps back.

“Nu-huh. Last time you were running around with him. And I don’t care if he likes it, it’s dangerous”

“Kids can take more than you think. I fell all the time and I’m fine” Pietro says and you scoff.

“Oh, honey, it’s cute that you think that”

As you walk to the kitchen, you keep scolding him, Lila and Cooper right behind you.

“You ok?” you ask Wanda when she finally joins you in the kitchen. You’re making food, but keeping an eye on Pietro as he lifts Natahaniel. “No throwing the baby!”

“But…”

“Pietro Django Maximoff…”

You’re about to give him an earful when Wanda pulls you against her, lips shutting you up real quick.

“I love you” she says with a look in her eyes you can’t entirely read.

“Well… I… love you too, but, the sandwiches”

“At this point we’re gonna starve” Pietro mumbles, rushing around the kitchen and making sandwiches in a second. “Kids! Food’s ready”

“Come on, let’s eat” she smiles, pecking your lips once more.

“Yeah, ok”

—

Wanda throws a punch at the boxing bag, and then another one, until she’s out of breath.

Something’s different, but she doesn’t know what exactly. Ever since that day with the kids, she’s thinking non stop of you, holding a baby, your baby, looking picture perfect.

Kids, running around while you give into the wonderful chaos of domestic bliss, Wanda by your side.

It only got worse after your mission. You’ve been gone for three days, and she can even see it in her dreams. That fantasy, almost too perfect to be possible.

Because it is. You’ve only been together for a year, and Wanda knows she has a long way to go to be deserving of your love.

You, with your perfect record, a loving family, two feet on the ground. Wanda’s the exact opposite, always struggling, always feeling like the other shoe’s going to drop. She doesn’t belong anywhere, and the closest she feels to home is when she’s in your arms.

So, that white picket fence fantasy is just that. A dream. And she needs to wake up.

“What did that bag do to you?” Clint jokes, entering the gym. Wanda laughs, breathless, leaning her head against it to steady herself. “You ok? Did you and Y/N fight before she left?”

“No, it’s not that… I just get restless when she’s not around” she says, and it’s not exactly a lie.

“They should all be back this afternoon. Just in time for Stark’s party” he says, but of course that’s not enough to ease her mind. “Come on, let’s spar. I’ll even pull my punches”

“Oh, sure you will” she laughs.

Even if she knows you’re not supposed to communicate until you’re close to the Compound, Wanda anxiously waits for FRIDAY’s announcement that you’re back from your mission. Barton drags her to the party and she makes an effort to mingle.

But as soon as Steve shows up, she’s running up to him.

“Where is she?”

“Oh, she was taking a shower. Was covered in soot from an explosion…” he waves his hand like it’s nothing, but Wanda’s eyes widen.

An explosion? Are you hurt? Why wasn’t she called immediately to see you?

“Wait, she’s alright! Wanda!” Steve calls for her, but the brunette’s already gone.

“Maybe lead with that next time” Natasha pats his back, smiling.

By the time Wanda arrives to your bedroom, she’s out of breath.

You walk out of the bathroom at the same time she runs into the small place.

“Wanda? Are you ok?” you say, worried when you see how upset she seems.

“Are you?”

“Yes, what do you mean?” you tilt your head, drying your hair with the towel.

“Steve said there was an explosion! Are you hurt? Have you been to the Medbay? We should probably…” she spirals and you pull her hand until she’s looking at you.

“Baby, I’m fine. I was just dirty, you know I loathe to feel dirt in my hair” you sigh, like being in the middle of an explosion is a minor, everyday inconvenience.

“Why didn’t you call me as soon as you got here?” Wanda sits on the bed, only calming down when she sees you acting completely normal, drying the rest of your body and putting on some lotion.

“I knew there was a party. Wanted you to have fun, socialize a little. Honestly, you should go back, baby. I’m probably going to pass out the minute my head touches the pillow”

“I want to be here with you. I missed you” she admits in a low voice, and you drop your towel, not really looking to start anything. You are pretty damn tired and sore, but you’d never tell Wanda that.

She gets a little too anxious and a part of you hates yourself for making her worried.

“You sure?” you turn around, a pair of panties and a t-shirt in your hands.

Wanda snaps her eyes to your face, blushing.

Gotcha.

“Is that why you’re so needy?” you climb into her lap. “Because you were horny”

Wanda’s face rests between your hands, and you don’t give her anytime to reply before pressing her lips against yours.

It’s playful at first, a small, teasing contact that makes Wanda sink in your warmth.

“Where are you going?” you tsk when she makes a move to stand up.

“To get changed. I thought you wanted to sleep”

“Finish what you started, Maximoff” you say, tongue darting out to tease her.

There’s nothing playful about the way she turns you on your back, alternating between kissing and biting your neck and going back to your lips.

It’s surprisingly dominant, the way her tongue invades your mouth. The movement makes you moan, and at the sound, Wanda’s own hips try to find a rythm.

The kiss is how you finally know how much Wanda missed you. It’s frantic and hot, passionate and desperate as she struggles to take her clothes off with one hand, the other pinching your nipple.

“You do remember you have magic, right?” you say when you break apart, out of breath. “Hurry, I wanna feel you inside”

“Detka, fuck” she rasps, struggling to keep from going down on you that very second. Still, she manages to make her clothes go away before leaving a trail of wet kisses down your stomach and all the way to your center.

“Don’t tease” you remind her with a gentle tug of her hair. Part of her wants to, but the minute she tastes you, she can’t stop herself from eating you out like it’s her last meal.

Stretch me out, ruin me.

“Your thoughts are louder than those pretty moans” she says when you look down, frowning because she stopped. Another swirl of magic and the strap appears around her waist. “Hold still”

“Wanda, stop reading my mind”

“I wasn’t reading your mind, malyshka. I can tell by how wet you already are. Be a good girl” she says, settling between your legs.

Wanda aligns the strap with your entrance, but as soon as she pushes forward, an overwhelming feeling throws her off. She can feel you, all of you. Your wet, warm cunt as you swallow her, clenching and waiting for her to bury it to the hilt.

“Why’d you stop? Baby” you whine, looking up at her with tears in your eyes.

“Wait, something’s not…”

But then you pull her towards you, and she can’t think of anything else. She feels too much, pleasure clouding her mind and pushing away the knowledge that something’s not right.

“Fuck” she whispers against your ear when you clench around her. Whatever is happening right now, Wanda can only think of fucking you, until you’re coming all over her.

“Yeah, just like that” you whisper, satisfied when she starts to move her hips against yours. “Fucking me so good, baby”

“You feel so good around my cock” she says through gritted teeth, making you moan at the choice of words.

If only you knew how accurate they are.

“I’m close” you dig your nails in her back, out of breath, chasing your release. Wanda moves faster, hitting deeper and deeper with each thrust.

Don’t you wanna make a baby with me?

When you come, Wanda’s mind is a whirlwind of emotions. Her mind’s fuzzy with the feeling of your cunt squeezing around her, but the pleasure also makes the rest of her thoughts come back like a tidal wave.

You, carrying her baby, raising your family, watching kids grow.

Wanda’s movements falter when she comes, crashing right behind you and falling on top of you.

“Sorry, detka. Are you ok?”

“Whadda ya think, Maximoff” you stretch, smiling lazily. “Sleep”

As promised, the minute you settle in bed you’re fast asleep. Wanda stands up to remove the strap and splash some water on her face.

As she looks at her reflection on the mirror, the woman can’t tell if everything that just happened was in her head.

—

The next morning, you make your way to the kitchen, searching for the cookies you hide in a special cabinet.

“Hey, how are you feeling?” Steve says and you look over your shoulder, smiling.

“All good, just a little sore from… uh, the mission”

That’s partly true.

“You get that checked?” he says when you turn back to face him, pointing at your neck.

“That’s not from the mission” you say, taking a sip of your coffee and praying he doesn’t notice how much you’re blushing right now.

But Cap looks even more mortified than you, specially when Wanda goes up to you, smiling as you wink at her. You barely register when he excuses himself, leaving the kitchen in a rush.

“Hey, baby. You sleep ok?” you say, kissing her nose.

“Yeah, now that you’re here” she smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. Part of her is wondering what the hell happened last night. “Was… last night, did you…?”

You tilt your head, curious at her sudden awkwardness. It reminds you of the days when she was new to the team and had no idea how to even talk to you.

“What’s wrong? Did you not like it?” you say, concerned that you did something to make her uncomfortable.

“No! That’s not it at all. I just wondered if something felt… different for you. Not bad, just different”

“Mmm. Nope. I liked you being bossy, though” you kiss her quickly, dragging her back to your room with a smile. “Come on, I’m still tired”

Going on a mission that you can’t tell your girlfriends about makes you uncomfortable. You don’t like having secrets from them but Nick Fury had told you it was extremely confidential, on a need to know basis. You’d tried to argue that Wanda and Natasha ‘needed to know’ but he had disagreed. You could tell them whatever you wanted as soon as the mission was complete. But until then – they weren’t to know anything.

You were the newest recruit and your identity was a secret. On the few missions you’d helped with you always wore a mask and your real identity was on a need to know basis for various reasons. So you were the perfect person to send on an undercover mission – nobody would recognise you as an Avenger so they had no reason not to trust you.

There had been reports of Hydra operating in the area and you were sent undercover to retrieve as much information as possible. Once you had the intel the Avengers would go in and bust the locations. But they needed to know every location and all the individuals operating.

You were by surprised how easily you’d been able to infiltrate them. It seemed that Dane Franklin, one of Hydra’s newest operatives, was a sucker for a girl with a pretty smile. You’d had to go on several ‘dates’ with him but it hadn’t taken him long at all to bring you to one of Hydra’s bases. It had been difficult – the subtle hints you’d had to drop that you were in a similar field until he let his guard down. He vouched for you to the other Hydra operatives. Had even told you he loved you last week.

Fuck, you were going to need intensive therapy when this was over.

Still, you nearly had all the intel you needed. A couple more visits and you’d finally be off the case. It had been a long few months and you didn’t appreciate that you’d had to lie to Natasha and Wanda every time you left the compound. The lies had almost gotten ridiculous – you’d told them you’d joined a knitting class a couple of weeks ago for God’s sake.

Dane holds your hand as you walk down the busy streets of New York. You hate him. Every day you paint on a perfect mask, looking at him with that stupid, soppy expression he loves so much. Letting him think that you’re an innocent idiot has been so fucking difficult. He’s always laughing and explaining things that you already understand. You want to tell him to shut the fuck up, to punch his stupid face but you just laugh and say “Wow, I didn’t know that!” You’re beginning to hate yourself a little bit as well.

“Are you coming over tonight?” Dane asks.

“Sorry, I can’t. I have the kids tonight.” Part of your cover story had been telling Dane that you had two young children. Twin girls, Jessica and Rebecca, who both do not exist at all. But it was a convenient excuse that Dane had bought – he couldn’t come to your home because you didn’t want your imaginary children to meet him too soon into your relationship. If you needed to see him then the girls were with their Dad. If you wanted to get away from him – ‘sorry, my night with the girls’.

Dane laughs “You’ll have to introduce me eventually y’know?”

You nod “I know, I’m just waiting for the right time. They’re still upset from the divorce.” That’s the kind of reason a parent doesn’t introduce their new partner to kids, right?

“You’re such a good Mom. I’d love to meet them one day though. I’m great with kids, I have three nephews and-”

You nod absentmindedly. You’ve found on this mission that the less you say the better. Better to have fewer opportunities to slip up. Luckily Dane enjoys talking. A lot.

He stops walking in the middle of the street and suddenly wraps his arms around you. You feel yourself cringe, wanting to pull away but you force that soppy smile onto your face as you look up at him. He sighs and mumbles “I’ve never met anyone as perfect as you before.”

What a dumb fucking thing to say.

Luckily Dane doesn’t seem to expect a response to that before leaning down and pressing a long kiss to your lips. He’s a terrible kisser – he uses too much tongue, it makes you feel sick every time. But you put your hand on his waist and power through it because that’s your job. You have no choice.

Eventually Dane pulls away and gives you a goofy smile “Come on. I have something to show you.”

You take his hand again. Today he’s showing you another Hydra base. You’re so close. This will be over before you know it and you can go back to your normal life. To your girlfriends.

Natasha and Wanda aren’t dumb. They’ve noticed your weird behaviour over the past few months but they’ve mostly let it go. You’re still loving and attentive, always cuddling and kissing them when you get the opportunity. They’ve noticed you disappearing at random times of the day. Sometimes you’re gone all day, sometimes you’re gone for the evening. They try not to question you too much – they’ve never had reason to believe you’d lie to them before so they swallow the excuses you give them. Knitting classes? Sure, why not, you are quite creative.

That is until Wanda slips out of the compound early one day. You’re out, Natasha’s training with Clint, and everyone else seems to be busy so Wanda decides to surprise you and Natasha with cupcakes from your favourite bakery in New York. The three of you had found it when you were first dating and you fell in love with their delicious baked goods, especially the cupcakes.

Wanda has just left the bakery when she spots you across the street. For a second her eyes light up and she takes a step forward to say hello. You’d got up early that morning and she hadn’t had chance to speak to you yet – when she suddenly notices you holding the hand of some random man she’s never seen before in her life.

Her eye-brows furrow in confusion. Who is this guy? Why are you with him in the middle of the day? She watches you both from outside the bakery, her eye-brows furrowed as the man suddenly stops in the middle of the street, wrapping his arms around you. Wanda feels her legs starting to shake, her throat filling with bile. She wants to look away, she doesn’t want to see anymore - When she sees him suddenly kiss you.

The box of cupcakes falls out of her hands, crashing to the floor. A passerby gives Wanda a look, before reaching down to pick them up. He puts his hand on Wanda’s arm “Love… You dropped these.”

“Oh… Oh, thank you, sorry.” She looks away, taking the box and flashing the man a small smile before turning back. But you’re gone.

Wanda walks back to the compound, her feet feeling heavy like she’s walking through mud. She’s not sure what to do now. For a moment she wonders if she was seeing things. Because surely there was no way that you would be kissing somebody else. But deep down Wanda knows what she saw. She just doesn't know how to face it.

When she arrives home she stands in the hallway for a long moment, not sure where to go or what to do. Natasha has just finished training and is heading back to the room she shares with you and Wanda for a shower when she spots Wanda dithering in the hallway “Hey… Oh you got cupcakes!” Natasha reaches out for the box, opening it, letting out a small laugh “Okay, they’re a bit… Squashed but I’m sure they’ll still be tasty-”

Wanda throws her arms around Natasha suddenly and Natasha is startled for a moment before quickly hugging Wanda back “Hey… Hey, what’s wrong?”

Wanda bursts into tears “I- I saw- I saw Y/N- and she- she was kissing- some guy.”

Natasha frowns, one hand gently rubbing Wanda’s back “What do you mean?” Saw her where?” “Across the road from the bakery. She was holding his hand and then they stopped, he wrapped his arms around her and- and-” Wanda sobs even harder, burying her face in Natasha’s shoulder.

Natasha doesn’t know what to say for a second so she just hugs Wanda as close as possible, her girlfriend’s tears soaking into her t-shirt “Are you sure? I just… I can’t imagine Y/N doing that.”

“Neither could I but it was definitely her!”

Natasha’s brain is working overtime as everything begins to click into place. The amount of times you’d disappeared, the flimsy excuses… Natasha suddenly feels so stupid. She’d trusted you. She doesn’t trust anybody except for you and Wanda, and you’d betrayed them both. Natasha hugs Wanda tighter, pressing a kiss to the top of her head “Who was it?”

“I don’t know, I didn’t know him.” Wanda whimpers “What are we going to do Nat?”

“It’s going to be okay.” Natasha reassures her even though she doubts her own words “We… We’ll ask her. When she gets back. Maybe… Maybe she has a perfectly good explanation.”

Neither woman can settle to anything for the rest of the day as they wait for you to return. Wanda cooks them both dinner but both women just pick it at, their appetites gone. Natasha puts on a movie but neither of them is really watching it. Wanda is preparing herself for the storm ahead whilst Natasha figures out what she’s going to say. She doesn’t want a confrontation with you. All she really wants is to crawl into bed and lie in between you and Wanda. Today has been a long ass day and she knows it’s only going to get longer.

Eventually the door to the bedroom opens and you appear, beaming at them both “Hey! Sorry I’ve been gone so long today.” You pull off your jacket and hang it up.

“Where have you been?”

You hesitate when you hear Natasha’s voice. It was quiet but also hard, accusatory. Natasha and Wanda hadn’t questioned you for a couple of weeks now and today had been so hectic you hadn’t bothered to think of a lie to feed them so you say the first plausible thing that pops to your mind “I went to a matinee. ‘Operation Mincemeat’ just opened on Broadway and I’ve heard great things so I decided to take a ‘Mental Health Day’-”

“Show us the ticket.”

Your heart sinks. You’d wondered if they’d eventually question you – how many flimsy excuses could you give before they finally stopped believing them? “Why?”

“Because I want to see it.” Natasha’s voice is icy. Wanda is silently watching the exchange; her eyes wide as she keeps her head leant on Natasha’s shoulder.

You swallow “Ah I uh- I don’t have it anymore, I deleted it-”

“It’ll still be in your deleted folder-”

“No, I cleared it.”

“Okay. But you picked up a playbill though, right?”

You clench your fists. This was a dumb lie to have told them. They know you too well. You love the theatre so you’d hoped they’d accept your explanation – it wouldn’t be too unusual for you to blow off work to go to a show. But you do always bring home a playbill “No. They didn’t have any.”

Natasha stands from the couch and folds her arms. Wanda stands up next to her “I saw you Y/N.”

You feel your heart plummet even further and you suddenly feel a sick feeling of dread. Whatever Wanda saw, it clearly wasn’t good “What do you mean?”

“Who was the guy you were kissing?” Natasha asks.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck “He- I-” This wasn’t supposed to happen “It wasn’t what it looked like.”

“So you were kissing some guy?” Natasha asks, her voice raising with each new word “You held his hand, he wrapped his arms around you, you kissed him?”

You clench and unclench your fists, trying desperately to find the words to make this better “I- It’s not-”

“It’s a yes or no question Y/N. Did. You. Kiss. Some. Random. Guy?”

“He’s not random! He- This- God, I wish I could tell you-”

“That what?” Wanda asks “You’re in love with him?”

“Ew! God, no-”

“So this was what? An experiment?” Natasha asks.

“No! I can’t- I want to tell you, I really do-”

“You’ve been seeing him for months, haven’t you?” Wanda asks “That’s where you’ve been sneaking off to. He was looking at you like you’re the light of his life.”

“I- Yes, technically, I’ve been seeing him for months-”

“How could you do this to us?” Natasha cries, her voice an anguished shout “How could you fucking do this?”

“I- Please listen to me-”

Wanda shakes her head “Get out Y/N.”

You take a step closer, your eyes watering “Please just listen-”

“Get the fuck out Y/N!” Natasha screams “We fucking trusted you and you threw that trust in our faces! We don’t wanna see you again!”

“You don’t mean that, you need to understand-” There are tears streaming down your face now. You reach out desperately for Wanda’s hand but she pulls away like she’s disgusted to touch you and you sob. Fuck Nick Fury. Fuck this stupid mission “I didn’t want to, I’ve been-”

“We said get out!” Natasha shoves you “Get out! GET OUT!”

You stumble back. You look at your girlfriends and see the look in their eyes. Wanda looks heartbroken, her own eyes also filling with tears whereas Natasha’s are hard and cold. You know that look well – the one she puts on when someone has really upset her but she doesn’t want them to see. You never thought that look would be directed at you.

You open your mouth but Natasha cuts you off, wrapping an arm around Wanda and pulling her to her chest “Get the fuck out of here Y/N. We don’t want anything to do with you anymore.”

You swallow hard but nod “If that’s… Really what you want.”

You grab your pyjamas from the bed and leave the room. There are other places in the compound you could sleep. You were looking forward to sharing a bed with them though. Their touch was always so comforting after feeling that losers hands on you. But now they didn’t even want to look at you. It broke your heart.

The next few days were difficult. You wanted to make things up with Natasha and Wanda but you’d arranged to meet Dane. Only a couple more meetings and then you never had to see this loser again. But it was getting even harder to keep your cover. It was because of him that your relationship had fallen apart before your very eyes. There had been one close call when he’d gone to kiss you and you’d pulled away and snapped at him. His eyes had widened in surprise and you’d quickly pulled that mask back down, giving him a smile and initiating a kiss. Telling him it was only a joke. And he’d been dumb enough to believe it.

You’ve been sleeping in one of the empty bedrooms of the compound. Natasha and Wanda are avoiding you like the plague. If you come into the room they immediately leave. You want desperately to just tell them the truth but you’d sworn not to. It’s not long until the mission is over anyway… You can tell them soon. If they’re willing to hear you out by then.

You end up sobbing your story to your therapist. You’re required to speak to her every day whilst you’re undercover. At first you tried to keep it to yourself but it eventually came out in a blur and you told her everything, completely allowing yourself to break down. How this stupid mission had filtered into your real life and was ruining everything.

A few days after the argument Natasha and Wanda are working on some paperwork. Just some simple filing from the last mission they completed when they’re summoned to Nick Fury’s office. He looks up at them as they come in “Ladies… Please take a seat.”

“Is everything okay?” Natasha asks.

“No, it is not.” Nick says, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his desk “I made an error in judgement and I want to apologise to you both.”

Wanda’s eye-brows furrow “An error in judgement?”

“Yes. It seems that a decision I made has resulted in the end of yours and Y/N’s relationship.”

Natasha scoffs “Um no, that wasn’t your fault. That was Y/N’s fault for kissing that guy-”

“Dane Franklin. Hydra operative. I asked Y/N to get close to him. I asked her to go undercover and infiltrate Hydra directly. And I also asked her not to tell you. A decision that she hated and argued against but ultimately accepted.”

Natasha and Wanda glance at each other, not sure what to say for a second “Wait…” Natasha says “Y/N… Is undercover?” Nick nods “And the guy she kissed… Works for Hydra?”

“Yes.”

“So she…” Wanda glances at Natasha again, her voice quiet “She has been seeing him. But only because you asked.”

“Because she’s doing her job, yes. In fact from what I hear she can’t stand the man. This whole job has made her miserable but sadly she was the only one I could ask.” Nick sighs “She didn’t want to sneak around. She wanted to tell you. I’m the one who insisted she shouldn’t. And I’m sorry. If I’d known what it would lead to I never would’ve-”

Natasha jumps up and runs out of Nick’s office. Wanda quickly follows suit.

You’re sitting in the empty bedroom you’ve been occupying since the argument. You’re scrolling through your phone, torturing yourself by looking at old photos and videos of you, Wanda and Nat. You eventually land on one of your old favourites – you’d been secretly recording them both whilst they did the dishes. You hadn’t been feeling very well so they’d cooked for you and were washing up. Wanda was singing whilst Natasha pretended to be annoyed and kept snapping at her but it was all banter and the three of you had kept giggling. You sniffle as you watch. It had only been taken a few months ago.

You jump as the door suddenly bursts open and Natasha appears, soon followed by Wanda “Y/N.” She holds her arms out.

You don’t know what’s going on but you don’t care, you jump up and run into Natasha’s arms. She pulls you tight to her chest and you burst into tears. Wanda moves behind you, wrapping her arms around your waist, sandwiching you between them. Natasha leans her head on yours; her own voice choked “I’m sorry. Fury told us everything. I’m so sorry.”

“We should’ve trusted you.” Wanda whispers “I just- I was so shocked when I saw you-”

“I should’ve told you both and accepted the consequences. I didn’t want to lie.” You sob “I hated it, I fucking hated it, I’m so sorry-”

“It’s okay, it’s okay, you don’t need to be sorry. We’re the ones who are sorry, okay?” Natasha says, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

Wanda squeezes your waist “I don’t… Like the thought of you going around with that guy, especially knowing he works for Hydra… But you were working… And as long as you’re sure you didn’t catch feelings for him-”

“I hate him, God; I’ve wanted to rant and tell you both all about him for months now. I fucking hate him so much.” You nuzzle into Natasha’s chest, your voice choked up “Please don’t break up with me-”

“No, no, of course not, we were so stupid to send you away like that.” Wanda says, clinging to you now like her life depends on it “We love you.”

Natasha nods “We love you so much. Our special girl. You’ve been so brave.”

“We want to hear all about your mission. I bet it’s been so hard, I’m sorry we couldn't support you…”

You sniffle and nod “Yeah… Yeah, I wanna tell you both all about it.”

An hour later you’re sat curled up in the bed of your usual bedroom between your girlfriends. The three of you have been crying but they’re both now snorting with laughter as you recall the stories of your time with Dane over the last few months. They’re quickly realising that you mean it when you say hate him. That you’d never betray them like that. Natasha reaches out to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear. She can’t believe she really thought you’d do that to them.

The first thing you did when your mind started waking up was groan.

The room was a little chilly, your body was sore and your head was about to kill you. You kept your eyes closed, trying to decide if you should stay in bed that day or join your friends for breakfast.

You arrived to Cancun three days ago after the endless begging of your friends for you to join them on their little trip. And it was supposed to be healing as you found yourself again. But right then and there, you were regretting joining them for drinks at the hotel’s bar the night before.

You sighed. The headache wouldn’t go if you didn’t take anything. And when you tried to reach for your phone, instead of touching the nightstand, you touched a warm body.

That made you sat up immediately, making you aware of your naked state as the sheets fell into your lap. Your lips parted as you looked to your left.

A brunette was lying on her back, her arm over her head trying to block the sunlight and her other hand below your pillow and her chest covered with the sheets. You moved backwards, only to bump into another body and you gasped.

When you turned to your sight, you found a redhead lying on her chest, her back bare and marked. Her arm placed protectively over your lap.

Your head started spinning a little as the memories of the night before finally flooded your mind as your eyes scanned the room that clearly wasn’t yours.

And your cheeks started burning.

(—)

The day before.

Wanda convinced her wife to have a little getaway. By little she meant a Caribbean paradise to forget about the not-so-little break up with their latest girlfriend.

They were running from their demons. Every inch of their house reminded them of the breakup and when Natasha started spending more time in the office than by her side, Wanda knew they had to leave as far away as they could.

And the redhead wasn’t so sure at first but when her wife kissed her so seductively and whispered the filthiest things in her ear, Natasha couldn’t resist anymore.

Everything was running smoothly. They tanned, read and swam at the pool like it was their second honeymoon. And they fucked like they could pound the memories out of each other. It was working, though.

Until, you walked in front of them at the pool. Wanda’s jaw almost dropped and she swore she heard Natasha growl under her breath but it could’ve been her. It was hard to say.

You looked stunning. A red bikini adorning your body, your hair pulled up, sunglasses resting at the top of your head and a beach bag hanging on your shoulder. And you stopped before them, turning around when someone called your name and Wanda’s hopes died when a tall blond man approached you.

He hugged you and your body relaxed under his touch. And Wanda couldn’t help when she sighed and turned to look at Natasha. But her wife was still looking at you, and if it wasn’t for her sunglasses, Wanda would’ve noticed the way Natasha’s eyes darkened at your sight.

Then the redhead furrowed her brows, making Wanda look back at you. You were giggling and trying to push away the man, as he took away your bag and started fighting with you.

Wanda jumped on ready to help you but Natasha stopped her. You kept laughing, pushing him away as he kept threatening to push you to the pool.

“Luke, stop!” you laughed and your voice was like music to their ears.

Were your moans as sweet as your laughter? Or did your voice drop lower when you felt needy?

But Wanda’s trail of thoughts was interrupted with your scream and a splash, flinching a little when water reached her and she gasped when you weren’t coming out of the water.

Natasha reacted first, jumping to the pool instantly and helping you out. You took a deep breath, your cheeks instantly flushed as Natasha held your hips protectively.

You brushed your hair back. Your eyes meeting a pair of unfamiliar green eyes looking at you worried. For a moment, your heart skipped a beat at the sight of the most beautiful woman you had ever seen. And your lips parted to talk but you were sure you forgot your own name.

“Are you okay?” Natasha asked softly, not quite ready to let you go and unaware of your flustered state.

“Come on, sassy, stop pretending you don’t know how to swim” Luke interrupted the moment and you weren’t sure who growled, you or the redhead.

You turned to glare at him and flipped him off, only making him laugh and then you looked back at the redhead.

“Yeah, I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you” you said softly and Natasha nodded.

The redhead helped you out of the pool and you offered her your hand to help her out, ignoring the teasing tickles from your best friend.

Your breath faltered when you took in the redhead’s image. She was wearing a black bikini top and a pair of black shorts. But that wasn’t what made you stop breathing, it was her toned abdomen and her strong arms that made you forget about everything else.

Luke pinched your side, offering you a teasing grin and you rolled your eyes and smacked his arm.

“Hey! Don’t be so mean” he grunted, placing a hand over his burning skin where your punch landed and you smacked him again “Stop!”

“That’s for pushing me, vipes” you huffed and he wrapped his arms around you, placing a soft kiss on your cheek “I’ll deal with you later” you muttered and faced the redhead again, that was now drying herself.

In that moment you noticed the brunette that was lying next to her and your mouth watered at her sight. She was wearing a mustard bikini, long legs perfectly tanned and a collarbone that was challenging you to touch just to find out if it was as sharp as it looked. She smiled at you softly and your cheeks turned into a deeper shade of red.

“I- we are sorry” you said softly, your eyes dancing in between them and you offered the redhead a grateful smile “Thank you for saving me, that was really kind”

“Yeah, saving you from your own stupidity” Luke teased but regretted it when both women glared at him as if they were trying to kill him on spot.

“Yeah, that too” you chuckled, a little amused that they made Luke squirm a little “But really, thank you”

It was like you weren’t ready to go, glued on your spot even when Luke was trying to make you keep walking. But you would’ve done anything to hear the redhead’s voice again and wondering how the brunette sounded.

And as if they could hear your thoughts, both smiled softly at you.

“It was nothing, just…” Natasha glanced at Luke for a moment and her eyes softened when meeting yours “be careful. It doesn’t matter if you know how to swim, games like that could end up badly”

Luke huffed like a scolded child behind you and you nudged him with your elbow making him yelp as you smiled and nodded.

“Tasha, don’t be so hard on them” Wanda scolded her wife softly and Natasha rolled her eyes playfully “Glad you are okay, sweetheart”

Your breath hitched at the sound of the brunette’s voice. It was sweet and alluring. You would even dare to say motherly in a way that electrified your skin and made your knees feel weak.

Luke noticed your state. He could almost see the moment your brain malfunction and he smirked. As much as both women made clear they didn’t like him, his little game turned out better than he imagined. Still, he cleared his throat and you flinched.

“Yeah, I- huh, thank you again” you finally said, trying to remember how to breathe and waved at them “Sorry for the trouble and I hope you keep having a good time”

You started walking but Luke stood still, watching you with an amused smirk and you rolled your eyes. You grabbed him by the wrist, trying to ignore the curious eyes of the women and fighting to make him move.

“Vipes, I swear to god-“ you grunted and he chuckled, starting to move as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders.

“Come on, sassy. I have a story to tell” he laughed and you pushed him away.

Both women watched you leave as you bickered with him. And Natasha almost jumped again when you were close to falling but this time Luke grabbed you by the waist and you started smacking his arm but giggled.

“Do you think they-“ Wanda started and Natasha looked at her wife.

“I don’t think so, dorogaya” Natasha sighed and laid down, putting her sunglasses back on “I hope not”

“You hope?” Wanda smirked and Natasha scoffed “Don’t be like that, moya lyubov’. We are on the same team here” the brunette smacked her wife’s thigh playfully.

Natasha chuckled, wrapping her arms around her wife and pulling her over her lap. She kissed Wanda’s neck as Wanda tried to break free because Natasha was too cold for her hot skin.

“I know we are, but I’m not so sure we should be thinking that way” Natasha said softly and Wanda turned to look at her, letting her body curl over Natasha’s and pecking her lips softly.

“Maybe that’s what we need, Tasha”

They both looked at you. You were now at the other end of the pool, lying down as the sun kissed your skin with your arms folded behind your head. Luke was standing before you and telling your two other friends about what happened, but their eyes were fixed on you.

“Maybe, but she’s gone now, Wands” Natasha said softly. She kissed Wanda’s forehead and patted her side as she offered her wife a loving smile “But I can get creative tonight”

Wanda laughed and kissed Natasha. At the end of the day, the redhead was her true partner in crime. The rest of the world was just a fantasy.

(—)

“Do I really have to go? I’m tired” you whined, letting yourself fall onto the mattress as Maddison threw you a dress “Mads”

“None of that, baby girl, it’s Friday night” she shrugged and looked at you “Just tonight, the rest of the week you can ignore our pleads”

You sat straight and snorted “You always say that and for some reason, it keeps happening”

But you complied. Anything to keep your mind away from home or away from the women that saved your life that day. Mostly them.

They were extremely hot, even Luke made an effort to state that when he was telling the story to Noah and Maddison. And you felt their gazes more than once during the day at the pool, or maybe you just imagined that since you wished for them to keep noticing you.

You weren’t sure, though. By the way they talked, at least the little you heard, they seemed to be married but it wouldn’t be the first time you mistaken friends for lovers. You could never trust your gaydar.

So a night out to clear your mind sounded marvellous. It was that or staying at your room as your mind ran over and over again their faces like a prayer.

You started dressing yourself, ignoring Maddison when she called you a good girl and after doing your makeup, both of you left your room.

The boys were already waiting for you at the hotel’s bar since you weren’t in the mood to go full nightclubbing and that was the best you could offer. And they agreed just because if they got you tipsy enough, maybe you would be the one wanting to change scenarios.

You greeted both and sat on a barstool next to Luke that was grinning at you mischievously. You squinted your eyes as he wiggled his brows and then decided it was better if you didn’t know.

You asked the bartender for a piña colada and Luke groaned.

“Dude, you are going soft” he glared at you and changed your order for something stronger a Moscow Mule.

“No, you are trying to kill me” you scoffed and Luke laughed “Vodka isn’t my cup of tea, vipes”

“Tonight it is” he shrugged and leaned over the counter “Your girlfriends are here, by the way”

At that, you straightened your back and Luke started laughing louder. You pushed him away when he tried to hug you and grunted.

“Shut up” your cheeks flushed and you thanked the bartender when he placed your drink before you and gave a long sip “They are not my girlfriends”

“But you wish they were” he teased, nudging your side playfully.

“She wishes what?” Noah chimed in, his arms wrapped around Maddison’s waist and you groaned, hiding your face in between your hands.

“That the hot women from earlier were her girlfriends or at least one of them. Hard to tell if they are together” Luke said tapping his chin in a thoughtful manner and you punched him.

“Are they here?” Mads asked, her eyes already scanning the place and you closed your eyes.

Ever since you broke up with your ex, your friends were firm believers that the only way out of your dark tunnel was a quick fuck. Noah and Luke were insufferable about it but when Maddison chimed in, it only got worse.

And you knew they were trying to cheer you up. After all, they were the ones collecting the pieces of your broken heart. But no one was interesting enough for you to really pay attention until that day.

You didn’t even know their names and maybe it was for the best. But both women were extremely attractive, it wasn’t even fair to be that hot. Physically should be impossible and yet, they were goddesses walking down on earth.

Luke told the story, emphasising on the fact that you were flustered when you talked to them and they pushed all day for you to talk to them. You stayed firm, though, even if on the inside you wanted to do it.

But it was like tossing a coin. They could be married or just friends or worst case scenario they were straight. Either way, you would’ve ended up making a fool of yourself and you weren’t ready for that hit.

“Yeah, corner booth on your right” Luke smirked and Noah and Maddison turned their faces in the most obvious way they could.

You gulped the rest of your drink and ordered another one. They were as embarrassing as any parent could be. Well no, they were worse.

“Dude, they are one hundred percent lesbians” Noah said looking at you and you side eyed him “Mads is the only straight woman I believe is that beautiful, the rest are certainly lesbians”

“Nice wording, baby” Maddison kissed his cheek and he smiled proudly “But he is right. And they make me wish I was into women, like damn”

You sighed, loudly and dramatically. You were delusional but your friends always fuelled that side of you and this time you weren’t falling for it.

“Well, then they are married. Cheers to that” you said raising your glass and Luke patted your shoulder “Do not hit on me, Lucas”

He chuckled “I was gonna say, you could always try your shot”

You gulped again your drink, leaving your glass half empty and shook your head as you laughed.

“Last time you told me that, I found my best friend” Maddison laughed at that and cheered with you “And I’m not replacing her”

The three of them kept teasing you, trying to encourage you to go and talk to them but that only made you keep drinking. And maybe alcohol wasn’t the best solution for your broken heart, the teasing or the need that was increasing between your legs every time you glanced at them, but the alcohol was making it bearable.

In the middle of your fourth drink, the bartender pushed a new drink and you looked at him confused. It was a different drink, the glass was garnished with lipstick and you raised a brow.

“This cocktail is called ‘The Flirt’” he explained with a soft smile, gaining the attention of your friends as they turned to look at him with curious eyes “Tequila, brandy, cranberry juice and lime juice” he continued, focusing on you as you stared at the drink like it held all the answers in the world “From the ladies over there”

Your cheeks started burning as Noah and Luke high five and Maddison started laughing. The bartender offered you a friendly look but it didn’t help to soothe your nerves and you tried to give it back.

“I don’t think this is a good idea” you said shyly, finishing your drink and Luke wrapped his arm around your shoulder “Don’t”

“Sassy, it’s just a drink not a marriage proposal” he said softly, restraining himself from teasing you. He sniffed the drink and looked at the bartender “I want one, smells nice. Please”

“Take mine” you grunted and Luke ignored you, pleading silently to the bartender to go and he nodded “Lucas”

“No, we are not doing this” he said firmly and you turned to look at him “I know we tease you a lot but this is a sign, (Y/N)” you groaned and started shaking your head “Yes, it is. Take the drink and just go and thank them. If they were just being nice with you, you can come back and we all go to bed” Noah smacked the back of his head but Luke remained unbothered, almond eyes only focused on you and smiling softly “And I will do whatever you want for a month”

“You really want me to go over there, huh?” you giggled softly and his smile widened.

“It’s been six months, sassy girl” he pecked your cheek “Go and if you don’t like them, look at me and I will go and pretend I’m your jealous boyfriend”

You laughed and rolled your eyes playfully “You always want to play that role” he shrugged and you sighed “Fine, but I will make you suffer for a month”

You stood up and took the drink. Your hand slightly shaking as you took a deep breath. It felt like you even forgot how to flirt, you were rusty after five years of being in a relationship.

“Go, get ‘em tiger” he patted your shoulder and you sighed.

(—)

Surprisingly, the drink was Natasha’s idea.

But she had to do something because it couldn’t be a coincidence that they ran into you two times that day after not seeing you the whole week. And Wanda also kept throwing stealthy glances at you, although she wasn’t as subtle as she think she was. Not for Natasha, at least.

And if it went wrong, Natasha could blame it on the alcohol later. Even when she knew how to handle her vodka. But the smile of her wife was priceless when she did the request to a waiter, so it really was worth the trouble.

But Wanda’s smile faded when she watched you struggle. Your blond friend was telling you something, the bartender was looking at you trying to decide what to do and your other two friends were immersed in their own world.

You looked conflicted.

“I think we over did it, moya lyubov’” Wanda looked at Natasha nervously, biting her lip and feeling her heart race.

The redhead extended her arm and Wanda took her hand seeking comfort. And there wasn’t any other thing that could soothe her worries like Natasha’s reassuring smile.

“Well, in that case we tried and I keep my word on getting creative tonight” Wanda giggled and Natasha’s smile widened “There you are, dorogaya”

“Yeah, you are right. Maybe my gaydar is broken” Wanda sighed, shrugging and Natasha laughed.

“Or maybe she’s not into us, Wands” Natasha teased and her wife offered her an offended look “Well, into me. My wife is extremely hot”

“Hey now! My wife is hotter” Wanda grinned and Natasha rolled her eyes playfully “But really, it’s okay. At least she got a free drink and…”

Natasha’s eyes flicked your way and her heart skipped a beat. You were now walking towards them, stumbling a little but with the drink on your hand. And for a second, Natasha thought you were going to throw the drink to them. But when her eyes met yours, you smiled softly and she forgot how to breathe.

“Dorogaya”

“So I think we could just close the tab and…”

“Wands”

“I really don’t mind. In fact, I think I’m feeling tired. Aren’t you…”

“Wanda!” Natasha said louder and Wanda flinched, furrowing her brows a little hurt because her wife never raised her voice. At least not to Wanda “I’m sorry, my love, but look”

Wanda then looked your way. You were closer, walking too slow for Natasha’s liking but she was enjoying the view. And Wanda’s breath faltered as she squeezed Natasha’s hand tightly and ignored when her wife grunted.

Both looked at you in awe when you stood before them. The crimson dress that you were wearing made you look like an angel of death. Their deaths. Your hair was down, your collarbone adorned with a cute silver necklace and you were wearing rings.

“Hey” you said shyly “Thank you for the drink. Seems like I owe you big time now” you joked, trying to keep your nerves in check even when the alcohol was numbing you and still your skin was buzzing.

Natasha’s jaw was one movement away from dropping, you couldn’t look hotter even if you wanted to. It should be illegal or something. And Wanda wasn’t so sure about her own name, afraid of talking and making a fool of herself.

They were never shy around women. Not when they were single and specially not since they were married. Both were natural flirts, almost bordering arrogance when it came to their looks. They knew they were hot, they knew they were charming, they were overly-confident with their skills in specially in bed.

And yet, in that exact moment, they both forgot how to talk.

On your end, the silence stretched too quickly. It was barely two minutes, but your confidence shattered. What if they didn’t mean to send you the drink? What if it was meant for someone else? What if they didn’t even want you there?

You bit your lip nervously, taking a step back and looking over your shoulder. Luke nodded and said something to Noah and Maddison, and started to walk towards you.

And Wanda finally snapped out of her own thoughts.

“Hey, sweetheart” she smiled softly and her voice electrified your skin “Did you like the drink?”

Wanda kicked Natasha under the table, not daring to look away from you and her wife growled but it was enough for her to react.

“I- well I haven’t…” your cheeks flushed and you shifted your weight nervously.

“Why don’t you join us for that drink?” Natasha said sliding over the round booth to sit closer to Wanda and gave you space “Unless you have somewhere else to be?”

There was a hopeful edge on Natasha’s voice and your legs almost failed you because she sounded so sweet. But before you could accept, Luke’s arm wrapped around you protectively.

“What are you doing, baby?”

Wanda threw a ‘I told you so’ look to her wife. Natasha’s jaw clenched at the sight of the blond man. Your cheeks were burning and you were wishing for the earth to swallow you up. The only one that was grinning and in control was Luke; the one person that didn’t belong there.

In his defence, you gave him the signal.

You took a deep breath and turned to look at him, trying to silently ask him to go but Luke was dumb when he wanted.

“Why don’t you go with Noah and Mads, hm?” you asked softly and he frowned.

“What? But you…”

“You heard me, vipes” you cleared your throat, your eyes wide opened as you tried to signal him to get on track. But you could see how slowly the dots were connecting “Lucas!”

You smacked his arm and he flinched. And finally, he reacted. Luke grinned and nodded, you could just wish he didn’t look that obvious to the beautiful women behind you as much as he did to you.

“Oh, yeah. Huh” he scratched the back of his neck and looked over you “Ladies, I think I never apologised. Sorry for the disturbance earlier and for…” you pinched his arm subtly and he grimaced “Yeah, for earlier. I’ll see you later, sassy” he leaned and pecked your cheek.

Natasha watched him leave and she smiled triumphantly to her wife. The redhead loved being right, she loved even more proving her wife wrong even when that got her in trouble. It was always worth it.

And she told herself as much when Wanda nudged her forcefully with her elbow and smiled at you with innocent eyes when you turned to look at them.

Wanda Maximoff was the devil in disguise and no one but Natasha knew that.

“Sorry about that, he just… well, it doesn’t matter” you bit your lip nervously, trying to gather your thoughts “So may I sit or should I just…”

“Please, I promise we don’t bite” Wanda said cheerfully “Unless you are into that, in that case we very much bite”

Natasha looked at her wife incredulously. Wanda only got that chatty when she was nervous, like it was her first time interacting with a woman and if they wanted a chance with you, Wanda needed to get it together.

But you chuckled and sat on the spot Natasha left you.

“I guess it depends on who is biting, so we will see” you smiled softly, gaining confidence from god knows where but it was working.

“So sassy? Is that your name?” Natasha said casually, taking a sip of her drink and your cheeks flushed.

You were there already flirting with them and you didn’t even know their names nor they knew yours. But the redhead was smooth, you gave her that.

“God no” you giggled and Natasha almost choked on her drink, could you get even cuter? “Vipes calls me by my gamertag. I mean Luke, I also call him by his gamertag” you babbled and Natasha held back an amused smirk.

You were just like her wife. Well, Wanda barely got that nervous so it was almost your fault that she was in that state. But that seemed to be your usual. And it made sense.

If Natasha had to guess, you probably were in your mid twenties. At least ten years younger than them. You seemed to come from a good family, nice manners and probably you had siblings based on the way you treated your friend. Long-term relationships were your thing, so a one night stand was barely an option and still, you were there with no expectations.

That was the redhead’s final assessment. And she was right. Natasha Romanoff was always right.

“Gamertag?” Wanda tilted her head slightly and your cheeks turned into a deeper shade of red, making Wanda’s curiosity spike even more.

You probably sounded like a total nerd. Or that’s what you believed while Wanda was genuinely curious. Natasha was the gamer, not her.

“Yes, dorogaya. Gamertag, you know the name you use online when you play?” Natasha explained sweetly and Wanda raised a brow, clueless “Like mine? Black Widow?”

“Oh, I see” she giggled and looked back at you “You’ll have to forgive me, perhaps I’m old” her cheeks flushed and you wanted to tell her you probably looked like trash next to her, that there was no way she was that old. But you bit the inside of your cheek nervously “And sassy is yours?”

“Something like that but my name is (Y/N)” you hummed and took a sip of your drink to soothe your nerves “And do you have names or should I just call you hottie one and hottie two?” your tongue ran before you could stop yourself and your eyes widened, coughing and not sure where to focus “I mean- god, I’m so sorry. I take it back. No, I mean I don’t take it back. You guys are hot but I say that respectfully and I didn’t want to…”

Natasha grabbed your hand and gave you a gentle squeeze, making you look at them. They were smiling a little amused but they weren’t judging. You bit your lip nervously, embracing the warmth of Natasha’s touch as she rubbed tender circles on the back of your hand.

“Thank you for the compliment, malyshka” Natasha started softly, as if she was trying to be careful of not scaring you away “I’m Natasha and this is my wife, Wanda”

“And I gotta say, you have a very cute name” Wanda added, smiling at you and almost climbing Natasha’s lap just to be closer to you because her wife got to touch you first and the brunette was competitive.

“You guys do too” you nodded, downing half the drink before you could keep talking and you made a bigger fool of yourself “You also make a lovely couple”

And they did. They truly did. It shouldn’t be fair that two women that hot were together but life was never fair. And they looked like a match made in heaven, like two pieces that belonged together perfectly. It was written all over them.

But knowing that didn’t keep you from feeling a little disappointed because the chances of them looking for a third were very thin.

“Oh, thank you. That’s really sweet, isn’t it moya lyubov’?” Wanda smiled at her wife and Natasha hummed, her eyes fixed on you even when her wife kissed her cheek.

“Is that… Russian or something?” you asked curiously and Natasha offered you a proud smile, one that made your heart flutter.

“It is. Good job, malyshka” Natasha praised and your arousal pooled between your legs “Wanda called my love and I just called you little one” she explained but you were half listening. You nodded but you were squeezing your legs thanks to the praise and the pet name, what was wrong with you?

“I’m not that little” you murmured and Wanda giggled “I’m twenty five”

“It’s not like that, sweetheart” Wanda explained with a soft smile “Although, for us you are little. In a cute way and maybe we are just older” your lips parted to ask but she tutted “It’s rude to ask a lady her age”

“She’s thirty five, I’m thirty seven” Natasha rolled her eyes playfully and Wanda smacked her arm. You giggled “You act like you are eighty or something, Maximoff”

“Says the woman that keeps complaining about her knee” Wanda scoffed and winked at you.

Their silly banter was refreshing. You weren’t sure how long they’ve been together but the way they acted around each other was something you wished you would be able to find one day. Being around someone that long for them to be your best friend and your lover.

“So, malyshka, what brings you here? To Cancun, I mean” Natasha asked grinning at you.

“For that, I think I’ll need another drink” you said shyly.

“As you wish” Natasha called a waiter over.

And you tried to collect your thoughts and feelings. It was a terrible idea to talk about your ex when you were trying to flirt with them. But they asked and you couldn’t find in yourself to lie, not to them.

Their beauty made you nervous and made your whole body buzz with need. But both women also looked at you as if they could catch you when you fell, like they would never judge.

The real question was: could you trust them?

(—)

None of you were sure how long you’ve been hanging in that booth. But the more you talked to them, the more comfortable you felt.

The moment you saw Wanda, you knew she was a sweet person. There was a light around her that was compelling, that called you without trying. But getting to know her was a full experience. The brunette was well educated, loved reading, she was the reason Natasha didn’t get a dog because she was more of a plant person and she volunteered in a music center by giving piano lessons for children that couldn’t afford them.

She was a true angel. Plus, you now were sure about her motherly energy.

Natasha, on the other hand, at first seemed like a little rigid. She teased, she flirted, but it was like Natasha was holding back. You saw the moment the redhead started easing up to you, how her body relaxed and her smile was more genuine.

She turned out to be hilarious, a goofy woman that loved pushing her wife’s buttons even when that got her in trouble, a huge protective energy and incredibly intelligent.

Natasha read you like an open book, every question she asked was precise as if she already knew the answer and wanted to confirm it. But it made sense, she ran her own security company, she needed to know how to read people. It was impressive nevertheless, because she was a software engineer and you always pictured people like that having a little more trouble when mingling.

Both were amazing and you weren’t sure if you wanted to be with them or be like them. Because together, they looked like a solid couple that knew each other better than they knew themselves.

Wanda would scrunch her nose when she didn’t understand a small thing and Natasha would be there explaining patiently to her wife in words that were more familiar to her. Natasha would tense up when a question took her by surprise and Wanda would caress her arm and lock her fingers with her wife’s.

And you wished you could be jealous, even if you didn’t know of who or what, but it wasn’t coming. Because they were also making sure to wrap you in their own bubble.

They listened to you when you talked about the real reason you were there and their eyes softened as if they were going through the same thing. Wanda asked about your work and listened carefully. Natasha asked about your goals and even offered to help if you were comfortable with.

You weren’t sure how they kept pulling you closer. Maybe it was the way Natasha kept ordering for you, not before checking in and asking if you needed something else. Maybe it was the way Wanda smiled at you softly when she noticed you were getting nervous and called you sweet names.

Both wrapped you in comfort and security. Drawing lines around you that they kept asking silently if you were okay with them crossing. Not pushing, only patience. And you weren’t sure where it was going, because they were taking their time, but you wouldn’t mind if it ended up with them being just friends. As long as you got to keep them by your side, it seemed worthy.

Then, Wanda made it very clear for you. Maybe it was the alcohol running through her veins, maybe it was her eagerness or maybe it was her impatience. But she made the effort to be transparent with you. No more dancing around.

“Has anyone told you how pretty you are?” Wanda asked with a flirty smirk, her chin resting on her fist as her other hand played with the straw of her drink.

Your cheeks started to burn. It wasn’t only the compliment, it was the way she was looking at you with hunger but mostly with genuine adoration.

They just met you. But just like you found them extremely alluring, they both were buzzing with need to have you in more ways they wanted to admit. Because the moment you sat down, it felt like a missing piece was found. The real one, not their fail attempts to fill the void.

You looked at Natasha, almost expecting her to scold her wife for being so bold. But the redhead was looking at you the same way as Wanda.

“I- well, I guess? I’m not sure” you stuttered, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear and giving a sip to what seemed to be your tenth drink “but that’s fine. Not a big fan of feeding my ego”

Wanda giggled, a sound that was enchanting like a siren voice and your heart skipped a beat.

“Pretty and cute. I think you should feed that ego” Wanda shrugged, leaning back and crossing her legs as she played with a lock of her hair “After all, it’s true. Don’t you think, Tasha?”

Your eyes landed on Natasha. A little nervous because her wife was blunt with you and you were afraid of flirting back. Not when you weren’t sure about their whole dynamic.

But Natasha hummed, green eyes twinkling with amusement and something you were afraid to name. The redhead leaned closer and her hand landed on your knee, her grin widened when you squeezed your legs together as her touch electrified your skin.

“Wanda is right, malyshka” Natasha smiled and gave you a gentle squeeze before leaning back and placed her other hand on Wanda’s thigh “Not only is she always right” Wanda hummed proudly and you giggled “but it’s true. You are really pretty” her eyes danced over your face, stopping on your lips before they kept going down and your skin started burning “cute” the redhead bit her lip and looked back to your eyes “hot, I would dare to say. And incredibly smart. We like smart, don’t we dorogaya?”

You looked at Wanda. The brunette was also checking you out, biting her index finger as her eyes roamed your body. They weren’t even assessing you. No, they were enjoying the view. Like admiring a painting they were ready to buy and hang to look pretty at their house.

You almost whimpered. Arousal pooling between your legs and your fingers twitching with need. You wanted to blame the alcohol for your horny state, but it was all their doing. Everything about them was a turn on and they hadn’t even touched you.

And your body buzz with excitement at the thought of they doing it because if they could do that much without their touch, what would happen when they did?

“Very much. It’s why a fell in love with you” Wanda looked at Natasha and they leaned closer. Closing the gap between them, lips locking in the steamiest kiss you had ever witnessed or had.

You bit your lip, moving your leg impatiently and tugging the hem of your dress. But then, everything stopped because a moan escaped your lips before you could even process it.

Natasha and Wanda broke the kiss, sharing a knowing look that you didn’t see because now you were downing the rest of your drink and fighting with the ice cubes as if they could cool down your burning cheeks.

“Everything okay, malyshka?” Natasha smirked, watching you try to merge with your glass and when it didn’t work you called over a waiter.

Your ears reddened, feeling the amused gazes of the women as you tried to order a drink. The waiter glanced at Natasha, as if he was asking permission since she had been ordering for you all night. The redhead nodded, her eyes barely leaving you and when you turned to look at them you started coughing.

“Easy there, sweetheart” Wanda said with faux worry and leaned to grab your hand. You nodded, clearing your throat and trying to smile at them “Well, Natasha asked you a question. Won’t you answer? It’s rude to ignore”

Wanda ignored the small pinch her wife gave her. The brunette’s eyes darkened with more hunger as you squirmed on your seat. You weren’t nervous. Well, not as much as you were turned on by her tone. It was deliberate and commanding. And when Natasha looked at you, she saw desire written all over your face.

“I- yes. Sorry” you managed to say and looked at Natasha “Everything is okay, Natasha. Thank you for asking” you glanced at Wanda for a moment, trying to see if she was pleased but when she didn’t move or say anything you looked back to Natasha “and sorry for ignoring you when you asked”

It should’ve been humiliating or that’s what you thought trying to make sense of the tingle in the pit of your stomach. You couldn’t find in yourself to care about it. Not when your heart was seeking approval from them.

The redhead offered you a proud smile and nodded, but you almost moaned again when Wanda talked.

“Good girl. Such good manners” you held back a whimper as Wanda started playing with Natasha’s hair. You thanked the waiter for the drink and Wanda stopped him before he could leave “Perhaps we should close our tab, moya lyubov’”

But she wasn’t looking at Natasha, Wanda was looking at you and you choked mid-drink. You started coughing again and Wanda smiled with amusement.

“Yes, please. It’s time for us to go” Natasha said to the waiter and he nodded, excusing himself to get the receipt.

You took a deep breath and started to slide off the booth. Both women looked at you confused as you stood up and smiled at them, opening your small purse and searching for cash.

“I guess that’s my queue to leave. Thank you both for the lovely night” you said softly, pulling out some money and offering it to Natasha that looked at you like you just insulted her “It’s not much but I can’t let you pay for all my drinks” you explained, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as your other hand trembled nervously as if the money felt heavy on your palm.

“That’s not necessary, it was my pleasure” Natasha smiled, her eyes now unreadable as she looked at you and you bit your lip.

You were too focused on her to notice when Wanda found her way out of the booth and stood next you. But the warmth of her hand startled you for a moment. You looked at her, her hand still tender over your arm as she caressed you and you eased up.

“We are not ready to let you go just yet” Wanda said softly, her eyes flicking for a second to your lips and she looked back at you when she caressed your cheek with the back of her fingers and you leaned into her touch without fully realising it “Such a pretty girl. So reacting”

Natasha appeared behind Wanda, arms instantly wrapped around her wife’s waist as she rested her chin over her shoulder and smiled at you.

“We were hoping for you to join us in our room” you looked at her in awe and for a moment, Natasha doubted herself but she forced herself to keep going “It’s okay if you don’t want to or you are uncomfortable. It’s just that booth is bad for my back and I’m sick of these clothes”

“I- I don’t want to impose myself” you stuttered, stepping back and regretting it when you lost Wanda’s touch “I’m sure you have more interesting things to do than entertain me” you forced a laugh but they both looked at you even more confused.

“Yeah, we have more interesting things to do with you” Wanda said closing the gap between you again and she grabbed your hand, giving you a gently squeeze and you relaxed “But if you don’t want to, we will understand”

“Just don’t leave because you think we don’t like you” Natasha added with a reassuring smile and you bit down your lip.

It was a bad idea. You started liking them way too much and that could only end badly. At least, that’s what you were trying to convince yourself about. But your mind was already lost in both pair of green eyes that held all the promises in the world and were ready to give you the universe if you asked. For a night, but it sounded worthy.

“Are you guys sure? I really don’t want to…”

“Don’t finish that sentence, malyshka” Natasha said a little more firmly, a tone that told you there was no room for argument “We are sure. What about you?”

“Yeah. Fine, let’s do it” you sighed and both smiled proudly, like using your words was all they need “Let me go tell my friends”

Wanda stopped you before you could walk, her grip more firm as a silent command and you couldn’t fully understand why your body kept reacting to every order they gave you. Their words told you were free, the commands were silent but not pushy but you weren’t so sure now you wanted that freedom. Your body wanted to follow commands, would your mind like that too?

“I’m sure you can text them, right?” Wanda said softly and you tilted your head slightly “My feet are killing me, sweetheart” she explained and you smiled shyly.

“Oh, yeah. Sure. I’ll text Luke” you said pulling out your phone and they smiled proudly again, making your heart fluttered with satisfaction.

“Well, I guess then we go now” Natasha said softly and hoisted Wanda in her arms and the brunette gasped “for your feet, dorogaya”

“Always my hero” Wanda pecked her lips and then winked at you “Lead the way, pretty girl”

Your breath hitched and your heart raced. But you started walking. If it ended in tears, you would gaslight yourself into thinking it was the alcohol’s fault.

(—)

Natasha and Wanda’s room was on the top floor. The one reserved for members. And when they opened the door to their suite, you wondered once again how rich they were.

They dressed, looked and talked expensive. Did they taste the same?

And maybe Natasha diminish her company, making it sound like it was a small business but standing at the entrance of that big room was telling you otherwise.

“Oh, sweetheart, apologies for the mess” Wanda said softly next to you once Natasha put her down “Natasha forgets to clean after herself”

Natasha snorted, already standing next to bed and picking the phone “Yeah, me. Because I wear these” she said amused, showing her wife a red thong and your cheeks flushed when Natasha winked at you “Yeah, good night. I would like to order room service?”

Wanda approached her wife and smacked her arm as Natasha played around when Wanda tried to snatch the thong out of her hands. It was impressive the way her voice didn’t waver while doing so, like nothing was going on even when her wife was threatening to kill her silently.

You giggled softly, not able to look away. And Wanda finally snatched the piece, although something told you Natasha let her win.

The brunette turned to look at you as her wife grinned behind her making you laugh a little, but Wanda’s stare made you stop and you pursed your lips. She approached you and your feet almost moved to close the gap, Wanda was faster though.

Her index finger curled beneath your chin and lifted it up. Your cheeks blushed as green eyes studied you carefully.

“What’s so funny, sweetheart?” her voice was dripping with sweetness. A trap wrapped in silk and you shook your head “Nothing? Hm, interesting”

You bit your lip nervously, playing with your fingers as you tried to look down but Wanda wasn’t letting you. The brunette was enjoying every delicious second of you squirming under her gaze.

And maybe now the alcohol was doing the trick because you could swore Wanda was leaning closer to you, her breath colliding against your face with a mix of cherry and vodka. Or maybe it was you the one that was being pulled closer, you couldn’t tell.

Your lips brushed against each other’s, you closed your eyes as your body buzzed with excitement and then Natasha broke the spell.

“Maximoff, leave her alone” Natasha said wrapping her arms around Wanda from behind.

For a second you were scared but when your eyes met the redhead’s she was amused and her eyes were darkened. She whispered something in Wanda’s ear, her eyes not daring to leave you and then it was Wanda’s turn to blush and bite her lower lip.

“Fine, I’ll behave” Wanda sighed finally and broke the embrace.

She started cleaning a little. It was true, the mess was hers but Natasha was the one to blame for that because she made it almost impossible for her wife to pick something when the redhead kept threatening her to rip it off her body.

The reason they were out was to get you out of their minds, to focus on each other and not the need of having you. And when you walked in, it was like a divine sign. Or at least that’s what Wanda said.

Natasha placed a tender hand over your hip and your breath hitched with the firmness of her touch. You wondered if she was always so gentle or if she was holding back to not scare you away.

“I hope you don’t mind” she started as her other hand cradled your jaw and you leaned into her touch. She offered you a soft smile even when you saw a flash of fear in her eyes for a moment “I ordered some drinks and food, you can’t have an empty stomach with all the alcohol you’ve been drinking” your cheeks were burning, you weren’t sure that was going away anytime soon. And you tried to look away but Natasha tutted “None of that, malyshka. Don’t hide from me, please”

Your heart melted. The softness of her voice made you want to hug her but you weren’t so sure. And your mind started running crazy, being flooded with unnecessary thoughts.

Why were they so sweet with you? Why putting this much effort into someone they just met? They had the perfect life, the perfect marriage and yet, they were showering with attention and care.

“Why me?” you whispered, your tongue betraying your mind and Natasha furrowed her brows as her eyes clouded with confusion “Why are you guys being so nice to me? We just met”

Natasha opened her mouth to speak but was interrupted by a knock on the door and she sighed, like the interruption really bothered her. You offered her half a smile and she looked at you with apologetic eyes when she had to let you go.

“Come sit, sweetheart” Wanda called you from behind and you walked towards the sofa, swallowing nervously as you sat down “You okay? Did Natasha say something? Romanoff!”

Natasha was walking behind a man as he pushed the small cart with food and drinks.

“What I do, dorogaya? I swear it wasn’t me” Natasha said softly, grinning at her wife that was glaring at her “Thank you, we will leave it outside when we are done”

The redhead tipped him and he left, but her wife was still watching her with her hands over her hips and Natasha chuckled nervously. Wanda was ready to lecture her.

“She didn’t- Natasha didn’t say anything wrong” you rushed to say when Wanda opened her mouth and both looked at you.

The brunette approached you and crouched before you, taking your hand in between hers and looked at you with soft eyes.

“Are you being honest, sweetheart?” Wanda asked trying to read your face and you nodded “Words, pretty girl”

“Yes, Wanda” you whispered, lost in her gaze and Wanda smiled.

She stood up and looked at Natasha, that just grinned triumphantly and Wanda rolled her eyes playfully.

“Saved by the cute girl” Wanda teased her wife and Natasha shrugged.

“What can I say? I’m a saint!”

Wanda hummed and Natasha sat in the sofa in front of you as her wife placed a glass before you and some snacks over the coffee table. Then she joined the redhead, curling beside her and resting her right elbow over the back of the sofa.

They went back to assess you, seeking any sign of discomfort as if they already knew your body language. And at that point you were almost sure. Both seemed to be able to read you so easily.

Natasha leaned forward, taking a sip of her drink and then resting her arms over her thighs. You swallowed and bit your lip.

“You asked why” Natasha said softly and Wanda tensed slightly. Without having to look at her wife, Natasha leaned back to place her hand over Wanda’s knee “Wanda and I have been together since what? High school, my love?”

“Officially, since college. But yeah” Wanda smiled softly at Natasha and looked back at you again, her smile still on her lips.

“We were best friends, then lovers. We got married” Natasha’s gaze was soft, like she was trying to tell you everything she couldn’t with her eyes “And I love her with all my heart as much as she loves me” they looked at each other, like their love never wavered but only got stronger. Wanda pecked her lips and whispered something before they looked back at you “But something was missing. Well, not something. Someone”

At that, Natasha tensed up. You saw the moment her eyes clouded and she straightened up, her hands leaving Wanda’s knee to fold her arms over her chest. She was shielding herself.

Instinctively, you moved to the edge of the sofa. Your body trying to reach her, to comfort her or to at least apologise for asking, for forcing her to say something she didn’t seem ready to say.

But Wanda shook her head subtly, smiling gratefully but asking you silently to give Natasha a moment. You nodded and sat back.

“We work perfectly, don’t we moya lyubov’?” Wanda smiled at her wife, her hand already rubbing circles over her thigh and Natasha relaxed and looked at Wanda “Everything is almost perfect” the brunette caressed her wife’s cheek.

“Almost” Natasha whispered and as much as you wanted to look away and give them space, you couldn’t. Natasha looked at you again “but we need balance in our lives, you know? Someone to keep us in check, to remind us to live before we get consumed with our own things” Wanda intertwined her fingers with Natasha and both smiled at you “Someone with enough power to make us feel more free”

Your lips parted as the silence stretched in the room. Your cheeks were flushed and you shifted nervously on your seat. The words were sinking in your bones. Feeling so right that it scared you, because the words sounded real.

No one could be that mean to lie, right? But given your list of exes, you couldn’t trust your own judgement. Still, your heart needed to believe.

“I don’t think I am that someone” you murmured and Natasha stood up “I’m flattered, really. You’ve been so sweet to me. You both are awesome but…”

The redhead sat next to you and your voice died down. Natasha caressed your cheek tenderly as your breath hitched, her thumb brushing your lower lip as her eyes followed her movements. And then she brushed your hair back.

“We think you are. Yeah, we just met but look at us” she said softly “You are an attraction force. You didn’t leave our minds all day and then we talked to you and you sound so collected” Natasha leaned closer and you bit your lip “I don’t think you even know it. But if you are not comfortable, you can leave. We just needed you to know”

Your heart was drumming in your ears, your cheeks were burning but your mind went completely silent. Natasha’s eyes were twinkling with sincerity, a little fear and like she just opened her heart to you. So you did what you’ve been wanting to do all fucking night.

You kissed her.

At first, she flinched a little as her muscles stiffened. But when her mind finally realised what was happening, her lips started moving. Natasha was careful, her plumped lips softer than you imagined and gentler. She tasted like vodka and lime. But mostly, she tasted like a promise.

You whimpered, trying to deepened the kiss and Natasha pulled back. She smiled softly and shook her head, brushing your nose with hers.

“Not yet, malyshka. You are going to get me killed” she chuckled and you furrowed your brows.

“Killed? What do-“

A small tap on your shoulder cut you off, your cheeks heating up even more when you remembered the brunette. You turned to look at her, swallowing nervously and an apology already on the tip of your tongue but she raised a brow.

“If you dare to apologise, you will regret it” Wanda said firmly, sitting next to you and tapping her thigh “Come here, sweetheart”

Your mouth ran dry and you glanced at Natasha, that gave you a small nod and a reassuring smile. You straddled Wanda’s lap and her hands grabbed your hips, keeping you steady.

She leaned closer. Lips brushing your neck as she inhaled your scent. You smelled like coconut, summer breeze and dreams. You held back a moan when she placed a soft kiss on your jaw, your fingers locking on her shoulders trying to ground you and she smiled.

“You are so damn beautiful. Less than a day knowing you and our lives already shine” she whispered, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear “You are perfect, sweetheart”

Before you could reply, before you could even think of denying her words, her lips captured yours. Wanda was a little rougher, impatient, but gentle all at once. Her tongue outlined your lower lip and you followed her silent order, opening your mouth.

Her tongue was on a mission, like she was trying to memorise every inch of you and her grip tightened on your hips. You moaned against her lips, your hips grinding against hers when she bit your lower lip, tugging it playfully and she smirked when you grunted.

“Such an impatient pretty girl” Wanda teased you and pecked your lips again “Did you eat something before going to the bar or were you planning on getting wasted?”

You looked at her in awe. Her tone firm but sweet, another trap wrapped in silk. One you would’ve run straight into if Natasha didn’t stop you.

“I wouldn’t lie if I were you, malyshka” Natasha said amused, leaning closer to you “She smells the lies from miles away”

Wanda hummed in agreement and you bit your lower lip, slightly distracted by Natasha’s fingers over your thigh.

“I- I didn’t” you admitted shyly “But I’m not hungry, I swear”

Wanda squinted her eyes, making you squirm over her and Natasha laughed.

“Maximoff, leave her alone. If she wants to eat, she will do it” Natasha smirked and Wanda pouted, looking at her wife “No, you won’t get away with everything you want”

“But she will need energy” Wanda defended herself and you gasped, making both look at you “unless you don’t want to…”

You leaned and kissed her again. You couldn’t trust yourself with talking. Not when they looked at you like they just found a treasure or how cute Wanda looked when she pouted. And the way she melted under your arms just fuelled your need of her.

You broke the kiss when Natasha huffed and when you turned to look at her, she was pouting like a child. You smirked amused as Wanda giggled and kissed your neck.

“What?” you asked wearing a cocky smirk. One that disappeared when Natasha stood up.

The redhead was taller than you, but you could almost feel the power radiating from her. She looked bigger, imposing, like she could ruin you if she just snapped her fingers.

It was her turn to smirk, sending a shiver down your spine and you almost squeaked. But Wanda started licking your neck and you whimpered when Natasha leaned.

“Not so cocky now, are we?” Natasha whispered and you bit down your lip “You are really lucky it’s our first night, malyshka. Really lucky”

It wasn’t a threat. She wasn’t warning you either. No, her words were a fucking promise. And instead of fearing her, you wanted to challenge her. You needed to see how far it could go.

Your brain wasn’t fully understanding how two women you just met, had total power over you. They weren’t forcing you, they weren’t pushing you. They kept giving you options and as free as you could feel, you didn’t want it. You wanted to be theirs.

It was the type of power that came with a lot of promises. The one that just asked for trust and care in return. Because Natasha and Wanda had some power over you. But you? You were the powerful one in that room. They would give you the universe if you just asked. All you had to do in return was trusting them. You had to give them the room to ruin you in all the right ways and they would be yours forever.

“Sweetheart, breathe” Wanda whispered in your ear and you realised your heart was racing, threatening you to jump out of your chest. You took a deep breath and looked at her “Good girl. Now be nice to daddy and apologise for making fun of her”

You moaned at the title. Your cheeks flushing when your eyes met Natasha’s. The redhead was grinning, green eyes daring you to not follow Wanda’s order. But you wouldn’t dare even if you wanted to.

“Sorry, Nat-“ Wanda pinched your side and your cheeks turned into a deeper shade of red “Sorry, daddy”

“Such an obedient plaything” Natasha said proudly.

Her fingers locked around your chin. A firm and steady grip that made you moan again as she leaned and kissed you. The first kiss was gentle and caring, this one felt like a claim.

Natasha kissed you like she was marking you, owning you and at the same time she was giving herself to you. Your head felt hazy. Your body craving them as if their lips over you weren’t enough.

Your fingers tugged Wanda’s hair when she bit your neck and the moment you moaned, Natasha’s tongue swirled with yours. It was like a practice dance. As if both knew all the right spots in your body, all the right things to do and say.

And it clicked.

You broke the kiss, panting and pushing Wanda away gently. Both looked at you confused and you tried to collect your thoughts before talking because you could potentially ruin your night.

“I’m not the first one, am I?” you asked carefully, watching the moment they shared a look and then went back to you “It’s okay if you don’t want to tell me. I’m sorry if I overstepped”

“Oh, sweetheart, you didn’t” Wanda cradled your jaw and gave you a sad smile “I wish I could tell you, you are the first one but you are right, you aren’t”

“But you are the one we want” Natasha added and smiled “and before you dare to say again we just met, sometimes you just know. We can’t name what it is, but we know we want you”

Your heart fluttered “What happened to…”

“That’s a story for another day, sweetheart. Why don’t we move this party somewhere more comfortable, hm?”

Wanda looked at Natasha and her wife nodded. You gasped when the redhead hoisted you over her shoulder, she was way too strong. She handled you with ease and care, putting you down on the bed and smiling like she just grabbed a pillow.

“Do you want us to stop?” Natasha asked softly and you shook your head “Remember what mommy told you, malyshka. Use your words”

You whimpered “No, daddy. I don’t want to stop”

“Good girl” Natasha smiled proudly.

Wanda knelt behind you as Natasha crouched and started taking off your heels. Wanda unzipped your dress slowly, tossing your hair aside and she kissed your shoulder blades. Natasha started kissing your legs and your mind didn’t know where to focus as Wanda pulled your dress down slowly.

The experience was something you had never felt. They were acting with so much care, making you feel safe. As if they were unwrapping a gift and wanted to engrave the experience in their minds.

The redhead helped her wife taking off your dress and both moaned at the sight of your body. Black lingerie covering your body and you couldn’t find in yourself to feel shy. Not when they were looking at you like you were a masterpiece.

“If you want to stop, you will say so. Understood?” Wanda whispered in your ear, tilting your head to the side and kissing your neck.

“Yes, mommy”

The praise came as a moan. Your words igniting Wanda’s skin as you used the right title. The brunette started sucking on your neck and you grunted. And when you looked down, Natasha was already kissing your thighs.

Both were marking you, their hands caressing your body like you were made of glass. As if you could break underneath them if they were rougher with you.

Your knees opened when Natasha moved up and she smirked. Your body was already reacting on its own. Your mind was silent, trying to remember every kiss, every movement, every sound they were making.

Your breath faltered when Natasha stopped in your covered cunt. She inhaled your scent, whimpering as her mind tried to decide what to do. And when she placed a chaste kiss and moved to your abdomen, you grunted.

Wanda unhooked your bra, throwing it somewhere around the floor and you tossed your head back when she cupped your breasts. You hid your face in the crook of her neck, kissing her as she pinched your nipples.

And you moaned, feeling Natasha’s tongue over your skin as Wanda’s hands worked over your chest. Your teeth sank in her skin and the brunette growled when you started sucking.

Your hips bucked up when Wanda’s fingers were replaced with Natasha’s mouth. Her tongue swirling over your harden nipple and her lips popping when she let you go.

The redhead continued to mark you, bruises appearing over your skin as a statement. When her knee pressed against your cunt you moaned and started grinding to ease the tension.

“Easy, malyshka” Natasha whispered in your ear “We are getting there”

Then you whined when they stopped touching you. Both kissing over you as you looked up. They were rough, you could almost feel the power battle that was taking place over you.

Your fingers hooked in Natasha’s pants and the redhead broke the kiss to looked down on you with curious eyes. You smiled innocently.

“Too much clothes, daddy”

Wanda chuckled as Natasha smirked with amusement and they shared a loving look, checking on each other before they kept going. The brunette pecked her wife’s lips and said something in russian.

Their attention was back on you. Moving around you with ease and Natasha made you stand up. You tripped and she caught you. Your heart melted when you heard a soft ‘I got you’ that felt like an oath.

“Who do you want to undress first, little one?” Wanda asked softly and you bit your lip.

Your eyes danced in between them. Your ears ringing as you tried to decide and when your breath hitched, the brunette’s hand wrapped around your wrist. You looked at her and she smiled reassuringly.

“Perhaps our cute girl shouldn’t choose” Natasha suggested tenderly and your cheeks flushed. Her finger traced your collarbone and she smiled “it’s a huge decision, isn’t it malyshka?” you moaned at her tone. Natasha was stripping you from your freedom, the one that came with consequences and a lot of anxiety “Mommy and daddy will do it for you. Sit and watch”

You nodded and sat at the edge of the bed. Your eyes fixed on them as they helped each other out of their clothes. Their movements deliberate, their eyes glancing at you every now and then with smiles that reached their eyes.

Wanda turned around. Natasha unzipped Wanda’s dress and her tongue traced her wife’s spine. You weren’t sure if Wanda moaned or if it was you. You clasped your legs to get some relief.

But your underwear was ruined when Wanda knelt before Natasha. It was one hell of a sight as the brunette looked up to her wife and took off her pants. You whimpered when Natasha stepped out of her pants and took off her shirt.

Both were goddesses. Your eyes were trying to decide where to focus. Natasha’s toned abdomen was calling you but Wanda’s long legs were alluring. You needed them both, not sure if you needed them to touch you or you needed to touch them.

As if they could read your thoughts, they approached you. Standing before you with softened eyes, giving you silent permission to touch.

You swallowed, not ready to pick between them without feeling you were failing them. Wanda smiled at you knowingly and looked at her wife.

“Dibs” Wanda said triumphantly and you looked at them confused as Natasha chuckled.

“No, you can’t call dibs. She gets to do it” Natasha said amused and you tilted your head with curiosity “Mommy wants to pick who goes first. Do you want her to pick, malyshka?”

You giggled softly and nodded “Yes, daddy” you looked at Wanda and grinned “You pick, mommy”

The brunette caressed your cheek and smiled proudly. She leaned to peck your lips, leaving a dreamy look in your eyes.

“Our perfect girl” she praised you and you smiled “Tasha, sit on the bed”

Natasha huffed but complied, she knew better than to piss off her wife by not following orders. The redhead sat next to you with a grin and you giggled when she winked at you.

“If you piss mommy off, I will let you cum sooner than later” Natasha teased and you gasped but Wanda smacked her thigh.

“Do not give her ideas” Wanda scolded and Natasha rolled her eyes playfully “Sweetheart come here, kneel before daddy”

You did as told, eagerly. And Natasha moaned at the sight of you as you looked at her with doe eyes that twinkled with excitement.

Wanda knelt behind you, kissing your neck and then your shoulder. She pressed her chest against your back and you moaned when she nip your earlobe.

“Daddy is so beautiful, isn’t she?” Wanda purred and you nodded “Do you want to touch, little one?”

“Yes, mommy, please”

Wanda hummed proudly and took your hand. She showed you the way, your fingers caressing her legs tenderly. Natasha rested her body over her elbows, tossing her head back when your hand reached her thigh.

“She will never say it out loud, but she loves being worshipped” Wanda murmured and you whimpered as she guided your fingers over Natasha’s clothed cunt “Natasha acts all tough and powerful, but she is a golden retriever in disguise. A woman that needs to be taken care of” your thumb pressed against her clit and Natasha moaned, a sound so heavenly that you thought you could come just by hearing it “Show her how much you want her, sweetheart. Make daddy feel good”

Natasha gasped when your arms hooked around her legs and you pulled her closer with strength you didn’t know you had. And your body moved with a mission in mind.

The redhead watched you licked her abdomen, sucking and marking her. Her body was perfect, museum worthy. Wanda helped you unhooked her bra and you sucked her right breast first and then the left one.

Natasha’s breath hitched as you kept leaving bruises over her body. She didn’t like love bites, at least not that much unless Wanda was doing it to prove a point. But with you doing the job, looking at her like you’ve been dying to taste her and own her, Natasha knew she was fucked.

Maybe you weren’t their first addition to their marriage. They’ve tried multiple times and as much as they gave themselves up, it never reached that point. Not because they didn’t want to. It was because they never felt ready.

It could be the alcohol in her veins or her foggy mind. But instead of wanting to stop you from keep bruising her, she pulled you closer.

Wanda took in the image, noticing the way Natasha was letting you step into a territory she barely unlocked. The way her wife was holding you close as she unravelled under your touch. And she smiled because as much as the three of you felt like something that could vanish as soon as the sun came up, Wanda knew it wouldn’t happen.

They just found you. They wouldn’t let you go any time soon.

Not when Natasha felt so safe. Not when Wanda’s body buzzed with excitement and need she had never felt with anyone but Natasha. Not when you were so obedient, so eager, so fucking perfect.

Your tongue traced a line down her body. Your fingers hooked on the waistband of her underwear as you asked silently for permission and Natasha nodded, biting her lip as she watched you undress her.

You moaned at the sight of her slick. You leaned and kissed her thighs tenderly. And when your lips met her cunt, you both moaned.

“Take your time, sweetheart” Wanda cooed, her hand snaked between your legs. You whimpered when she tossed aside your underwear “I got you”

You swirled your tongue over Natasha’s clit, moaning at the taste and Wanda pressed her thumb against yours. You ran down your tongue making Natasha buck her hips up. And when your thumb rubbed circles over her clit as your tongue entered her, Natasha tossed her head back with a loud moan.

Your movements started gentle, slow, almost afraid of rushing things. But then your hunger came out to play, drunk on her taste and her moans. The way her fingers twitched next to your face trying to restrain herself from tugging your hair.

And your mind was hazy, moaning against her cunt as Wanda’s fingers worked between your legs. You whimpered when she pushed two fingers inside of you, your knees spreading a little more to give her more space to work and Wanda hummed satisfied.

The three of you were moving in sync. Wanda’s lips marking your back as she pumped her fingers, you eating Natasha out like she was the last meal on earth and the redhead finally broke and tugged your hair, guiding you as she bucked her hips up, grinding her hips against your face.

“Fuck, malyshka” Natasha whimpered, forcing herself to watch you and when she met your eyes she moaned louder “You look so perfect like this. I’m almost jealous, thinking your tongue worked on someone else” you grunted and Wanda fastened her movements, a possessive rhythm took over with Natasha’s words “Yes, baby, just like that. Don’t stop”

You pushed your hips back, trying to get Wanda to move faster. And she complied, her mind deciding she couldn’t wait for you to come around her fingers.

Natasha tugged your hair again and you whimpered, your eyes fixed on hers and you sucked on her clit and she moaned, not only at the sensation but at the way you were looking at her.

“I’m so close, please don’t stop” Natasha begged, feeling her abdomen tightened and her knees clasped in your head “Fuck”

Wanda licked your shoulder and smirked “You will come when she does, sweetheart. So it’s up to you”

Your eyes rolled back, your walls clenching around Wanda and your abdomen tightened as you tried to wait. And Natasha came moaning your name. She collapsed against the bed as you slowed your movements, your chin dripping with drool and her arousal as Wanda kept you in place.

“You made her a mess, sweetheart” Wanda whispered and you pressed your right cheek on Natasha’s thigh, moaning as Wanda kept pumping her fingers and her thumb rubbed circles on your clit “Mommy is so proud of you, little one. You are such a good girl. Cum, baby, claim your reward”

Your back arched against her chest, your head leaning on her shoulder and Wanda sucked on your neck as you came around her fingers. Your desperate moans filled the room and Natasha straightened up, watching the way your body trembled against Wanda’s.

The brunette slowed her movements and she captured your lips with hers, tasting her wife and moaning against your mouth. You bit her lip harshly and she whimpered. And she broke the kiss when she pulled out her fingers as you grunted.

You watched her lick her thumb clean, her eyes fixed on you for a moment before looking at Natasha. The redhead understood the command, leaning closer with her mouth opened as Wanda pushed her fingers in.

Natasha looked at you as she sucked her wife’s fingers, tasting you and moaned. You watched her mesmerised, noticing the way her eyes rolled back when Wanda pressed her fingers down her tongue. Natasha’s lips popped when Wanda pulled out her fingers and smiled.

“You taste better than I imagined, malyshka” your cheeks flushed and she signalled you to get closer “And that pretty mouth does wonders, mommy will love it” her knuckles caressed your cheek “Our perfect girl”

Natasha kissed you tenderly, your skin flushed and your heart racing. You were sure you could never get tired of her lips. The way she kissed you was charged with something you couldn’t name but it sat right on your bones.

Wanda stood up, leaving you both as you made out. Your body hovered Natasha’s as you climbed the bed and her hands squeezed your ass making you moan. You only broke the kiss when your lungs started burning needing more air and you smiled at Natasha.

“You are perfect too, daddy” you leaned and kissed her neck “So perfect”

Natasha grunted as you sucked on her neck, her hand slapping your ass and made you moan. The redhead tugged your underwear, contemplating ripping it off and the consequences. But it lasted one moment before she did it anyway and you gasped.

“I’ll buy a new pair, don’t worry” she grinned and you giggled.

Natasha’s heart skipped a beat, founding you extremely cute. It was a balance, silly things during an intimate moment that warmed her heart. Someone that didn’t expect her to be cold and heartless but actually enjoyed her goofy self.

“Tasha!” Wanda gasped and you both turned to look at her “It was such a nice piece. Why you do it, moya lyubov’?”

“My hands have mind of their own” Natasha grinned and Wanda chuckled “I see you brought the big guns”

In that moment, you noticed the strap on her hands and you gasped. Wanda looked at you amused, approaching you as if you were her prey. The small break was over because it was Wanda’s turn and Natasha was going to show you the right way to treat her wife.

“You are so tight, sweetheart. I think you deserve to be stretch out” you moaned as she brushed your lips with the tip of the toy “Sadly, it won’t be me doing it. Daddy doesn’t like to share her toys” she pouted and Natasha chuckled under you.

“Malyshka, sit closer to the headboard. I’ll show you how to treat mommy, hm?” Natasha instructed and you looked at her “And since it’s our grand opening night, I will let you enjoy the show as you please”

Natasha winked at you and you growled at her words. You moved around the bed, following her orders and the redhead gave you a proud smile that only increased your arousal.

You took off what was left of your underwear and tossed it away, your body getting comfortable between the pillows as you watched them carefully.

Natasha went back to her powerful state. Imposing and commanding as she watched her wife putting the strap in place around her hips. The redhead told her something in russian and Wanda grunted, stripping off her underwear and kneeling before Natasha.

It was hard to tell which one held the power over the other. They both seemed to share but in that moment, the picture was clear.

Wanda looked at her wife with devotion. Letting Natasha handle her as she pleased. Focusing on her and not daring to look away, not even when the brunette wanted so bad to watch you.

And as easy as it looked, the only reason Wanda bent to her wife’s wishes was because she loved Natasha dearly. Enough to give up her own power, enough to show the redhead she was hers too.

Natasha looked at you and you moaned. They looked perfect, delicious, you couldn’t even feel left out because they were letting you watch their interaction. It was hot the way they surrendered to each other, their love an intoxicating force that not everyone could see fully. Not like this. But you were lucky by just witnessing.

“Mommy’s tongue ran a little earlier, don’t you think?” Natasha smirked and looked down to her wife “Telling our perfect girl how much I love being worshipped, how soft I can be, how to hold power over me” you and Wanda moaned. Natasha’s smirk widened and she turned to you “I’ll pay back the favour. Here’s the secret, malyshka” her hand grabbed the toy and she brushed it against Wanda’s lips. Her wife opened her mouth and Natasha pushed it gently “Mommy looks so collected, so expensive, you wouldn’t even dare to think how much of a slut she is” your hand landed between your legs as Wanda bobbed her head “She walks around the world pretending she doesn’t like to serve, to please, but her inner slut always comes out to play in the bed. Isn’t that right, my love?”

Wanda and you moaned. The brunette’s mouth stuffed with the toy as your fingers played with your clit. Natasha looked so powerful like that, holding your attention and your needs. Knowing what to say and when to say it. A side of her that she always showed; composed, in control, intimidating and powerful.

Because her goofy self was for those that were close to her. She couldn’t be nice to everyone, it wasn’t in her nature to trust any stranger and yet, she trusted you. Natasha was willing to let you see every part of herself.

“Malyshka, be a dear and toss me a pillow” Natasha asked gently and you moved to complied. She smiled gratefully and dropped the pillow before Wanda “Come on, my love. Put on a show for our girl. Ride it as you suck my cock”

Wanda whimpered, her hands grabbing the pillow and putting it underneath her. Her head kept bobbing on the toy, the tip meeting the back of her throat as Natasha tugged her hair.

It was also hard for Wanda to show that side of her. Because Natasha’s words were true; the brunette walked around the world with all the confidence she had. Every inch of herself screamed power and she loved it.

Wanda loved the control, her ability to solve everything as if the world depended on her and the power all of it gave her. But when Natasha stripped her out of her power, Wanda also found a way to breathe.

She wouldn’t say it out loud, she would deny it if asked, but there was something about giving her power up for the woman she loved the most that was thrilling. But she felt vulnerable.

Her power shielded her from the outside. None of their exes had ever witnessed the power exchange between them because Wanda couldn’t let them see that side of her, the one that could break if handled poorly.

However, you were there. Touching yourself at the sight of her sucking the strap and humping the pillow and instead of seeing someone easy to destroy, you still looked at her like her power was never gone.

No, Wanda still had power over you. She wasn’t vulnerable. Wanda didn’t feel the ache in her chest or her usual fear igniting inside of her. She was free, holding everything and letting it go all at once.

Natasha fucked her wife’s mouth as if she could just come by the sight. You pumped two fingers inside you as you applied pressure on your clit. And Wanda was humping the pillow like it could save her.

“Seems like our girl is liking the show, Wands” Natasha grinned at you, her fingers tugging the brunette’s hair and you moaned when Wanda choked on the strap “Who would’ve thought? You are a slut just like mommy, hm?”

You whimpered, curling your fingers inside as Natasha paid attention to both of you. You were part of the show, they were letting you in and it felt like your body was on fire.

The gagging nosies Wanda was making were driving you to the edge. Her neck was flushed and you could see drool dripping. But what almost broke you was the moment you saw a tear rolling down her cheek.

You wished you were Natasha in that moment. The sight of Wanda from above was heavenly. A sight that shattered the powerful image of the brunette, the same woman that commanded you with a single look.

You moaned louder, your hips bucking up trying to reach your high and Natasha looked at you with a smirk. She pulled out the toy and Wanda coughed trying to regulate her breathing. The redhead crouched before her wife and grabbed her chin.

“Keep moving, Wands” she ordered and Wanda whimpered, hands steadying herself over the floor as she was grinding her hips “But look at her. Look how much she loved watching you being a slut for me” Wanda’s eyes met yours and you both moaned, your abdomen tightened and you tossed your head back as you came around your fingers “I wish I could take the credit, my love. But you did that, don’t you love it? Someone finally matched your slutty ass”

And with that Wanda fell apart, her orgasm crashing over her bones. Natasha’s words landing in all the right ways. And when you finally regained yourself back, you crawled over the bed. You laid down over your chest and reached for Wanda, the brunette moaning your name like a prayer as she slowed down her movements with her eyes closed.

Your eyes met hers when she finally opened them. Panting with her cheeks flushed like she just realised how much of herself she let go and afraid that you would think less of her. But when you cradled her jaw and caressed her cheek with your thumb, Wanda leaned into your touch.

“Thank you, mommy” you whispered “you looked amazing”

Natasha smiled softly, watching the interaction as her heart raced. You were giving them all they needed, all they craved and you didn’t even know. They cracked open before you and you weren’t judging, you were following them.

Wanda leaned and kissed you, a tender kiss that said more than she could trust her own words to tell. A silent thank you and at the same time, she was holding onto you like you could save her.

Then she broke the kiss and reached for your hand, sucking the fingers you were using to touch yourself and you moaned when her eyes never left yours. There was something more than hunger in them, something that screamed ‘see me as much as I see you’.

“You really are perfect” Wanda whispered after she let go of your fingers “Now, let mommy and daddy take care of you”

“I just had two-“

“It’s really not about how many times, malyshka” Natasha explained and you looked at her confused “Lay on your back and let us have you, yes?”

“Yes, daddy”

“Such a good girl you are” she pecked your lips.

You laid on your back and Wanda hovered your body, not before leaving bruises over your abdomen like Natasha did earlier. She was claiming you too, marking you as a shared possession with her wife. And when she finally was face to face with you, Wanda smirked.

Her hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing just enough to make your breath faltered. You bit your lip, nodding slightly as she squeezed a little more testing the limit. But Natasha and Wanda made a promise, they wouldn’t push too far that night.

They needed to try, to see how comfortable you were around them, how much of yourself you were willing to give. For them it wasn’t physical, it never was. They saw you, they wanted you, they talked to you and realised they needed you.

Love a first sight was for fairytales, but you looked like the one that could finally break them and glue them all at once. You were perfect in more than one way, you just had to believe it. And they were ready to make you see it.

“I want to try that pretty mouth of yours, is that okay little one?” Wanda whispered, brushing her lips against yours and then tracing your cheek with her nose as she inhaled your scent.

“Please, mommy” you murmured, closing your eyes as you felt Natasha’s hands over your thighs.

Wanda took a moment to admire you. You looked so eager, so innocent, so… breakable. But you were trusting them, she could feel it. Her fingers brushed your hair and your eyes fluttered open, meeting hers with a soft twinkle.

“If you could only see what we do” Wanda said softly, smiling as she brushed her lips against yours “We waited for you for so long, sweetheart. This will work out, I promise” she kissed you again and your hands held the back of her neck trying to pull her closer. Wanda broke the kiss and you grunted “Easy. The night is still young” she pecked your forehead “Now, if you make mommy cum, daddy will let you cum” she leaned closer to your ear “but I’m not like daddy, I don’t like sloppy work” she purred.

You nodded eagerly and she hummed, hovering your face and you moaned at the sight of her glistening cunt. She smelled delicious. Just like Natasha, she smelled like paradise. An expensive paradise.

“Okay, malyshka. You better make mommy cum. Tap her thigh if you need us to stop” Natasha said spreading your legs and you whimpered when Wanda lowered herself over your mouth and the redhead spit on your cunt.

Your lips sucked on Wanda’s clit and the brunette had to steady herself with the headboard. And you moaned against her cunt when you felt the tip of the toy in your entrance.

Your movements faltered as Natasha pushed inch by inch of the toy inside and Wanda grunted, getting impatient and started riding your face. You matched her pace once that Natasha bottomed out, grunting against Wanda when the redhead started moving.

Your head felt foggy. Overwhelmed by the sensation of both women over you. Their noises driving you to the edge. Wanda was moaning louder over you as your fingers dug into her skin and Natasha was whimpering, hypnotised by the way the toy disappeared inside of you.

And your back arched when her thumb pressed over your clit and Wanda’s movements turned erratic, her slick covering your face as she used you just like she used that pillow.

Soon the brunette came, legs pressed against your head as she shuddered above you. Wanda was sure she had never came that fast, not even Natasha had made her.

She moved after a few minutes, letting you breathe and moving your body so she could hold you from behind. You buried your face in her inner thigh, your hands holding her legs as Natasha hovered your body.

The redhead was focused, whimpering as she pounded her hips against yours. Your legs wrapped around her hips and both moaned when Natasha kissed your neck.

“You are so perfect, malyshka. So tight” she breathed out in your neck and you whimpered “We are not letting you go”

Natasha looked at you, green eyes as darkened as yours. You tried to talk but only a moan came out and Natasha smirked. Wanda caressed your hair, soft fingers grounding you while Natasha shattered your world.

“Do you like when daddy fucks you, sweetheart?” you looked up and Wanda’s eyes were fixed on you, engraving in her mind every feature of your face as it contorted with pleasure.

You nodded and sank your teeth in her thigh when Natasha got rougher. You needed them everywhere, you didn’t want the night to end. And when Wanda started rubbing your clit, you screamed with pleasure.

“Daddy, mommy, please” you whined, feeling so close again and Natasha grunted “I’m so close, don’t stop please”

But the redhead stopped, she pulled out and you mewled. Wanda shushed you as Natasha flipped you, raising your hips and pushing the toy inside again.

Her hands landed in between your shoulder blades and she pushed you down. Wanda’s hand tugged your hair as Natasha started grinding her hips faster, erratic, with her fingers between your legs.

“Come, detka. Show me how much you love daddy’s cock” Natasha whimpered and your knuckles turned white as you fisted the sheets.

And you came, not sure of what you screamed but your orgasm came down like a crashing wave. You whined when Natasha didn’t slow down, she went faster and rougher. Her fingers working over your sensitive clit and your nails started digging into Wanda’s thigh like she could save you.

“Tasha, I think-“

“No” Natasha grunted, looking at Wanda with hungry and possessive eyes “She can take it, right malyshka?” you moaned and Natasha pulled you up, pressing your back against her chest and bit your neck.

Your eyes met Wanda’s and the brunette searched for any sign of discomfort but when your eyes rolled back with pleasure, she knew you were okay.

She knelt before you, biting the other side of your neck. Both were marking you, claiming you and your mind was one step away of crashing. It didn’t take that long for you to come again, one hand tugging Wanda’s hair and the other one tugging Natasha’s.

And the redhead slowed down, but she wasn’t ready to pull out. Neither Natasha or Wanda were actually ready to give you a break. Not when the last orgasm was possessive, claiming and promising.

And you didn’t want to let them go either.

(—)

At some point that night and after watching them come undone under your touch, you had a break. Regretting not listening to Wanda about the food when your stomach roared with hunger.

But you were sore, your body slumped over their bed with sheets covering you slightly. You looked like a fucking masterpiece, covered in love bites all over. Sweat glistening your skin and your head hazy.

“Don’t sleep yet, sweetheart. It’s time to eat before bed” Wanda said softly, lifting your body and holding you in between her arms as you hid your face in the crook of her neck. You whined “None of that, pretty girl. You need to hydrate and eat”

“Mommy, please” you pouted and Wanda giggled, brushing your hair “Sleep now”

“She’s a little brat” Natasha grinned, straddling your lap and offering you a water bottle “Come on, malyshka, don’t get on mommy’s bad side”

You grunted but straightened up, drinking as Natasha held the bottle. Then she turned and held a club sandwich before you and you pouted again. The redhead chuckled but you sighed, reaching for a fry but Wanda smacked your hand.

“Sandwich first” Wanda ordered and you rolled your eyes, Natasha held back a grin.

“Daddy is more fun” you groaned and took a small bite of the sandwich as Natasha bit a fry and wiggled her brows, amused.

“You say that now, until she is the one mad” Wanda whispered in your ear and nip your earlobe “And if you keep being a brat, I’ll show you the real deal”

Natasha laughed and fed you a fry, then she offered her wife a bite of sandwich and Wanda looked at her gratefully.

“She’s right, I’m more fun” Natasha teased her wife, shrugging and biting another bite.

Wanda glared at her but you giggled. They kept bantering as you ate. And your eyes wandered over their bodies, they were as bruised as you. Not once did they stop you. They let you claim them as well and that made your heart flutter.

When the brunette was satisfied, Natasha cleaned up and Wanda moved to cuddle you. She pecked your lips and then peppered kisses all over your face making you giggle. And when she smiled at you, your breath hitched.

“Thank you for trusting us, sweetheart” she whispered and nudged your nose with hers “You did good”

“Thank you, mommy” you murmured and pecked her lips again.

Natasha laid behind you, covering Wanda’s body with the sheets and then hers. Her arm wrapped around your hips and pulled you closer, leaving a kiss behind your ear.

“Let’s rest, malyshka. Tomorrow we can talk about everything” she whispered and you nodded.

And they kept whispering sweet praises until you fell asleep. Natasha looked at Wanda one last time, a silent conversation being held over your sleeping body. They kissed softly and went back to nestle your body between theirs.

You were perfect. And they would make sure you knew it.

(—)

You slid out of the bed, careful not to wake them up. And when you stood up, you tripped a little, gasping.

The only thing you could blame the alcohol for was your damn headache. But every decision that night was yours and your heart wanted to believe everything was true and not just a dream.

You bit your lip. No, you wouldn’t ruin this for yourself with insecurities. You couldn’t when they were so sweet before, during and after everything. And if it was a lie, then they would have to tell you themselves.

Your phone started ringing and you jumped a little, running and trying to answer before waking them up. You tripped with the sofa, grunting as you reached for your purse and when you turned around, Wanda was already looking at you, leaning back on the headboard as you answered.

“Dude, where the fuck are you?” Luke’s voice was on the other end and Wanda beckoned you and your body moved on its own, you could swear on that.

“I’m a little… busy” you said softly and Wanda raised a brow with amusement “Why? What do you want?”

“Breakfast? Open the door, I’ve been knocking” your best friend groaned as you crawled over the bed and sat on Wanda’s lap.

And if Wanda’s mood wasn’t enough to prove you they were planning on keeping you, her lips sure did because they found their way to your neck soon enough.

“I’m not there, vipes” you bit your lip as Wanda licked your throat “But I’ll meet you at the restaurant”

Wanda slapped your ass and you held back a moan, looking at her confused and she started shaking her head. Making you furrow your brows.

“What do you mean you are not here? Oh wait!” he started laughing but you couldn’t snap at him, not when Wanda kept roaming your body with her hands “You still with them? Naughty girl!”

“I’m not telling you shit” you smirked but it faded away when Wanda mouthed ‘language’, you rolled your eyes and she slapped your ass again making you whine.

“Dude, you okay?”

“Yeah, I just tripped” you lied and Wanda giggled, pecking your lips “Anyway, see you at breakfast like in…” you looked at the screen but Wanda blocked your view and you frowned “Yes, Wanda?”

“You are not leaving” she sentenced and you looked at her in awe.

“But I’m hungry” you pouted and heard Luke screaming on the phone “Lucas, give me a minute. Shut up!”

Wanda grabbed your pillow and punched Natasha with it, her wife groaned and grabbed the pillow by the third time. She glared at her wife and you held back a smirk.

“What?” Natasha grunted, yawning and rubbing her eyes. Then her eyes found you and she squinted “Why is your phone in your hand, malyshka?”

“She’s trying to leave” Wanda replied and your jaw dropped, you grabbed the pillow from Natasha’s hand and punched her with it “Watch it, little one”

“That’s not- I’m not trying to leave, I swear” you looked at Natasha “I’m just hungry” Luke shouted your name again and you groaned “Luke, I said shut the fuck up! Give me another…”

“Luke, right?” Natasha said after snatching the phone from your hand and you looked at her stunned and Wanda smirked “Yeah, Natasha here. I don’t think she will make it to breakfast” the redhead hummed as she smacked your hand away and Wanda went back to kiss your neck “I see, yeah. When are you leaving?” she grabbed her phone and looked at the hour “Sure, we will join if that’s alright with you and your friends?” she hummed again and typed something in her phone, showing it to Wanda and her wife nodded “Yeah, see you then. Thank you”

Natasha hung up and placed your phones together over her nightstand and your jaw dropped. You weren’t sure if you heard right, but apparently the redhead already decided they weren’t going to leave your side.

“What did he tell you?” you asked as Natasha kissed her wife and looked at you amused.

“Something about a trip to Women Island?” she shrugged and leaned to kiss you “Hope you don’t mind if we tag along”

“I- I don’t but I don’t think you want to hang with four strangers and-“

“We are hanging out with you and may I remind you this stranger made you moa-“ you clasped your hand over her mouth as your cheeks started burning and she raised a brow.

“Fine, three strangers. They are stupid and teasing and…” Natasha licked your hand and you moved it away “Hey!”

“Oh so now you don’t like my tongue? Wasn’t she asking me to never stop using it last night, dorogaya?” Natasha asked to Wanda and the brunette laughed.

“Yeah, I remember that” she teased and you groaned, trying to get off Wanda’s lap but she kept you in place “What I don’t remember is giving you permission to move”

“Is this my new life? Am I gonna get teased for the rest of my life?” you said without really thinking about your words but when realisation settled, you panicked “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-“

“Yes, that’s what you should expect for the rest of your life” Natasha smiled and grabbed your hand “And we don’t mind hanging out with your friends. It will be good getting to know them since you know… you are kinda stuck with us now”

“You make it sound like a threat, moya lyubov’” Wanda laughed and you bit your lip “We don’t have to go if you don’t want us to”

You looked at them, like really looked. Their eyes were twinkling softly, their smiles didn’t waver and they kept one hand touching you as the other were linked.

They made it look like you’ve been part of them all their lives, as if they didn’t meet you the day before but like you belonged there already. And your heart melted.

Maybe you didn’t take the best choices in the past, but this felt right. They felt right. So what if you just took a leap of faith?

“Yeah, okay. Let’s do it” you smiled and leaned to kiss each one of them “and I mean all of it, if you guys still want me” you whispered shyly and Wanda caressed your cheek.

“I know a way or two to show you how much we want you” she purred and you whimpered “What do you think, Tasha?”

“Yeah, I know what you are talking about?” the redhead smirked and you moaned.

“Again?” you grunted when Wanda pushed you down in between their bodies and their lips were already on your neck.

“Again. And again after that” Natasha whispered and you bit your lip but your stomach growled and the redhead laughed.

“Or not. I guess she really is hungry” Wanda chuckled and you groaned, looking down to your abdomen.

“No, no, I’m not hungry. Come back” you whined but Wanda was already picking up the phone to order room service “She won’t let it go, will she?”

Natasha patted your thigh “You get used to it, now come back to my arms and wake me up when food is here”

And when you settled in her arms, watching Wanda reading the menu and ordering for you as Natasha kissed your shoulder and held you protectively, you knew whatever happened next it didn’t matter.

Wanda had looked at her with those green eyes, sharp and guarded, and Y/N had felt something tug deep inside her chest. Something familiar but unnameable. She’d tried to smile, offer her hand, but Wanda only gave a curt nod and turned away.

It didn’t matter. Y/N was hooked.

She couldn’t explain it — the strange, magnetic pull toward the Sokovian witch. She wasn’t the type to get caught up in fleeting crushes; she had control, discipline. But Wanda had made her heart pound in a way no one else had.

The only problem? Wanda wanted nothing to do with her.

Every time Y/N tried to ask her out — coffee, a walk, even just training together — Wanda turned her down. Sometimes with a clipped excuse, sometimes with barely concealed irritation. It was clear: Wanda didn’t like her. Or maybe she didn’t like Alphas at all.

Wanda was a Beta, so maybe that explained some of it. Most Betas resented how much the world revolved around Alphas and Omegas. Y/N couldn’t blame her. Still, it hurt more than she cared to admit.

But none of that mattered on the mission.

---

Today’s mission was supposed to be simple — infiltration, extraction, clean getaway. Of course, missions never went that smoothly. The Hydra base had more guards than intel predicted, and the team split up to cover more ground.

Y/N ended up partnered with Wanda, much to the witch’s dismay.

They were moving down a narrow corridor when a Hydra agent burst out from the shadows, weapon raised. Y/N reacted without thinking—her arm shooting out, shoving Wanda behind her as she drove her blade into the man’s chest before he could fire.

The body hit the floor with a heavy thud.

But before Y/N realized it, something else filled the air. A low, protective growl slipped from her throat, her alpha pheromones spilling into the space—dominant, warning, wrapping thickly around Wanda as if to shield her too.

Wanda froze, wide-eyed, then her jaw tightened. She shoved Y/N’s arm off her.

“You stay out of my way,” she hissed, her accent cutting sharp. “I don’t need you playing hero. I don’t need *you* at all.”

Y/N swallowed hard, pulling her pheromones back under control. She didn’t answer, just nodded and stepped aside, letting Wanda storm ahead.

She wasn’t here to fight with Wanda; she just wanted them both to get out alive.

For a while, everything went smoothly again. They moved through the halls in sync, Wanda’s scarlet energy crackling at her fingertips, Y/N covering their flank. But halfway through the mission, Y/N noticed Wanda slowing down.

Her breathing was heavier, her skin flushed.

“You okay?” Y/N whispered, scanning the shadows for movement.

“I’m fine,” Wanda snapped, brushing past her. But her steps faltered, and Y/N caught her elbow before she stumbled.

That was when Y/N smelled it.

It hit her like a punch — sweet, heady, intoxicating. Omega pheromones, thick and undeniable. Not just any pheromones either. Heat.

Y/N froze. Her entire body tensed, her Alpha instincts roaring awake. No. That couldn’t be right. Wanda was a Beta. She’d said so herself. Everyone believed it. But there was no mistaking this smell: Wanda was an Omega. And not just that — she was in the middle of a dangerous, overwhelming heat.

“Wanda…” Y/N murmured, her voice low, almost strangled. “You’re—”

“Shut up!” Wanda hissed, though her voice trembled. “Don’t say it. Don’t you dare.”

But her legs gave out, and Y/N had no choice but to catch her before she hit the ground. Wanda writhed in her arms, her body hot, trembling with need she clearly despised.

Y/N’s instincts screamed at her to claim, to soothe, to sink into the Omega who smelled so maddeningly perfect in her arms. But she clenched her jaw, fighting it. This wasn’t about her. Wanda didn’t want this. She didn’t even want her.

“I have you,” Y/N whispered firmly, gathering Wanda up bridal-style. “I’m taking you somewhere safe.”

Wanda’s nails dug into her shoulder, her scarlet magic flickering uncontrollably around her. “Don’t—don’t touch me,” she said, but her voice lacked conviction, broken by a needy whimper.

“I don’t have a choice,” Y/N said, carrying her down the hall, scanning for exits. “You’re burning up, Wanda. You can’t fight like this. You’ll get hurt.”

Her Omega.

The thought seared through her mind unbidden, primal and raw.

Y/N shook her head. She needed to focus. She had to get Wanda out, away from danger, away from enemies who would smell her condition and know exactly how vulnerable she was.

They made it out of the base and into the forest, Y/N’s arms tight around Wanda as she followed the map in her comm to the nearest safe house. Wanda was half-conscious, panting, trembling against her. Every whimper nearly undid Y/N, every shift of her body against Y/N’s chest a brutal test of self-control.

Then Wanda shifted closer, her nose brushing the curve of Y/N’s neck. For a split second, Y/N thought it was an accident—until she felt the soft inhale, the shiver that ran through the Omega in her arms.

Wanda breathed her in, desperate, her lips parting against Y/N’s skin. A small, broken whimper escaped her throat, the sound laced with need.

Y/N froze, her Alpha instincts flaring violently. She wanted—needed—to answer that call, to soothe, to claim. But she clenched her jaw, forcing her body rigid as she kept moving through the trees.

“Easy,” Y/N murmured, her voice rough, betraying the storm inside her. “Just hold on. I’ve got you.”

Wanda’s fingers curled tighter in Y/N’s shirt, another needy sound catching in her throat as she pressed closer to that intoxicating Alpha scent, too far gone to fight the pull anymore.

Y/N’s boots thudded heavily against the wooden steps as she reached the cabin. She shifted Wanda in her arms just enough to reach for the door, shouldering it open with a force that rattled the frame.

Inside was dark and dusty, but it was safe — four walls, a roof, and most importantly, solitude.

She carried Wanda straight to the narrow bed in the corner and laid her down as gently as she could. But before she could pull away, Wanda immediately reached for her, slender fingers snagging the fabric of Y/N’s combat top. Her body arched subtly, like her heat wouldn’t let her tolerate even a moment without the Alpha she clung to.

“Wanda,” Y/N whispered, crouching beside the bed. Her own breath came harsh, shallow, as she tried to put space between her instincts and the woman she had fallen before her. “You need to rest. I’ll get water, I’ll make sure you’re okay—”

Wanda’s glassy eyes fluttered open, unfocused but locked on Y/N. She inhaled shakily, the sound almost a sob, before burying her face into the crook of Y/N’s neck again.

The rush of her Omega pheromones filled the small room, wrapping around Y/N like a suffocating embrace. Sweet, dizzying, primal. Y/N’s muscles tensed, her hands flexing against the urge to pull Wanda into her lap and have her way.

“Please,” Wanda whimpered, her voice muffled against Y/N’s throat. She wasn’t even fully aware of what she was asking, but her body knew. Her scent knew.

Y/N’s heart clenched painfully. She had wanted Wanda for so long — her laugh, her smile, her attention, anything she’d give. But not like this. Not when Wanda was vulnerable and suffering, when the choice wasn’t truly hers.

Y/N forced her voice low, steady, though her pulse hammered in her throat. “Wanda, listen to me—do you have an emergency suppressant? In your suit, your pocket, anywhere?”

Wanda only whimpered, shaking her head against her neck, fingers clawing weakly at Y/N’s shirt like a lifeline. Her body trembled, her Omega scent spiking hotter, sweeter, overwhelming.

“Damn it,” Y/N hissed under her breath, dragging in a sharp inhale through her nose and immediately regretting it. The pheromones were thick, suffocating, pressing against every inch of her restraint. Her cock strained against her pants, the ache unbearable.

Her hands curled into fists at her sides. If she stayed, if she breathed Wanda in for another second, she was going to lose control. And the last thing she’d ever forgive herself for was hurting Wanda.

“Wanda,” she said harshly, voice rough with desperation. “I can’t— I can’t stay here. Not like this. If I don’t get out, I’ll—” She cut herself off, teeth gritting.

Wanda lifted her head then, eyes glazed, pupils blown wide, lips parted with shallow breaths. She looked utterly undone, caught in the throes of her heat, her instincts reaching for this Alpha. For her.

“No,” Wanda whispered, her accent thick, her hand fisting tighter into Y/N’s shirt. “Don’t go.”

Y/N squeezed her eyes shut, swallowing down a groan that tore from her chest. “Wanda, you don’t understand—I might hurt you if I lose control. I can’t risk that.”

But Wanda’s heat had already swallowed her whole. She pressed closer, nuzzling into Y/N’s neck, her teeth grazing skin before a needy whine slipped from her throat. Her pheromones surged again, flooding the air until Y/N felt dizzy, drunk on her.

Every instinct in her screamed to claim, to soothe, to give Wanda what she was begging for without words. Her body shook with the effort of holding back.

Y/N’s breath came ragged, her voice breaking. “You’re killing me, Wanda…”

Y/N’s hands trembled as she shoved them into her own pockets, praying she’d been smart enough to carry an emergency alpha suppressant. Please, please… She patted down her vest, her belt, every compartment. Nothing.

Her chest tightened. “Shit.”

Wanda whimpered at the sound, clinging tighter. Her scent was practically liquid in the air now, coating Y/N’s lungs, seeping into her skin. The Alpha in her howled for release, for the Omega crying out against her chest.

Y/N gritted her teeth and forced herself to act. She hooked her hands gently but firmly under Wanda’s arms, pulling her away from her body. The moment her warmth left, Y/N felt the cold slam into her — relief and agony all at once.

“I can’t,” she rasped, pushing to her feet, every muscle rigid with restraint. “I need to get out of here before I hurt you. Before I—”

But before she could even take a step, Wanda’s hand shot out, desperate and uncoordinated, and caught her wrist. She pulled with surprising strength for how weak she looked, her body bowing toward Y/N again like a magnet to steel.

“Don’t go,” Wanda pleaded, her voice raw, her eyes glossy with heat. “Please… don’t.”

Y/N froze, chest heaving, staring down at the Omega who wouldn’t release her. Wanda’s nails dug into her wrist, trembling as she tried to drag Y/N closer. Her pheromones flared, thick and demanding, her entire being screaming for this Alpha. Her Alpha.

Y/N’s body shuddered with the effort it took not to give in. Her cock throbbed painfully in her pants, and every instinct urged her to turn around, to pin Wanda to the mattress, to sink into her until the need was gone.

But this wasn’t about instinct. This was Wanda.

Y/N’s throat worked around the words, broken and harsh. “You don’t know what you’re asking for.”

Wanda’s fingers curled tighter into her shirt, her whole body trembling. She tilted her face up, glassy green eyes locking on Y/N’s with a desperation that made Y/N’s chest ache.

“I… I need you,” Wanda whispered, her accent thick, voice hoarse with heat. Her thighs rubbed together, clenching as another wave of fire rolled through her body. A broken whine escaped her lips, sharp with pain and want. “Please—make it stop.”

The sound gutted Y/N.

Her Omega was shaking, suffering, looking at her with helpless need. Not because she wanted Y/N, but because her body demanded it.

Y/N’s jaw clenched so tightly it hurt. Her cock strained painfully against her pants, her Alpha instincts screaming take her, claim her, soothe her. But she couldn’t—she wouldn’t—cross that line, not unless Wanda chose her outside the haze of heat.

“Wanda…” Y/N’s voice cracked, raw with restraint. She gripped the edge of the mattress so hard the wood groaned, anchoring herself in place. “You don’t know what you’re asking me. If I give in, I won’t be able to stop.”

“I don’t care,” Wanda gasped, her nails digging into Y/N’s chest as she pressed closer, her body wracked with another needy tremor. Her legs squeezed together tightly, a low whimper slipping through her clenched teeth. “It hurts—please, Alpha…”

The word cut straight through Y/N. Wanda had never once addressed her like that — never even acknowledged her as an Alpha without disdain. Hearing it now, dripping with helpless need, only proved how far gone she was.

This wasn’t Wanda speaking. This was her heat, dragging her under.

Y/N’s mind raced. I have to get out, I have to—if I stay, I’ll break. I’ll hurt her. Her instincts screamed the opposite, urging her to give in, to soothe her Omega, to take what was offered.

Then movement drew her eyes back down.

Wanda’s trembling fingers fumbled at the hem of her own top, tugging it upward. She was shaking too hard to be precise, but determination drove every clumsy movement. Fabric rose, inch by inch, baring pale skin flushed pink from heat.

Y/N’s eyes widened, blood rushing hot to her face. “Wanda—!”

Before she saw more than she should, she spun around, her back rigid, fists clenching at her sides. Her ears burned, her throat dry, every nerve in her body alight with the effort it took to not look back.

Her cock strained painfully against her pants, the sight of Wanda undressing burned into her mind even though she hadn’t let herself see more than a glimpse.

“Stop,” Y/N choked out, voice rough and frantic. “Don’t—don’t do that. You’re not yourself right now.”

Behind her, Wanda let out a needy whimper, the soft rustle of fabric making Y/N’s chest tighten with panic.

She squeezed her eyes shut, muttering under her breath like a prayer. “God, I can’t stay in this room…”

Y/N forced herself to take one shaky step toward the door, her back still turned, heart hammering against her ribs. If I can just get out—just one breath of clean air—

But before she could reach the handle, Wanda’s arms wrapped around her waist from behind.

“Wanda—!”

Y/N barely had time to react before the Omega’s strength, fueled by need and desperation, yanked her backward. They tumbled onto the bed in a tangle of limbs, Y/N’s back hitting the mattress with a heavy thud.

The breath was knocked from her lungs, and then she realized the full weight straddling her hips.

Wanda.

Only in her bra and underwear now, flushed skin glowing in the dim light, her hair mussed, her thighs trembling as she pressed down onto Y/N. The sight stole every ounce of oxygen from Y/N’s chest.

Her blush flared so violently it felt like fire across her face. But when her gaze dropped — unwillingly, instinctively — she saw it.

The slick coating Wanda’s inner thighs, glistening as it smeared against her trembling skin.

Y/N’s entire body went rigid. Her fangs itched, sharp and aching, threatening to drop. Heat surged through her veins, primal and demanding.

A strangled groan tore out of her before she slapped a hand over her mouth, squeezing her eyes shut as though that could erase what she’d just seen, what her instincts screamed at her to take.

But Wanda, lost in her own heat, shifted slightly, lowering herself onto Y/N’s covered hardness. The friction hit like a shockwave.

A loud, desperate moan escaped Wanda’s lips, raw and unrestrained.

Y/N froze entirely, paralyzed. Her body refused to obey, every nerve on fire, every muscle trembling. Wanda’s pheromones enveloped her like a physical force, thick and heady, searing into her lungs, sinking into her blood.

She couldn’t move. She couldn’t pull away. She couldn’t think. Her Alpha instincts roared, raw and relentless, whispering claim her, claim her, claim her.

Her hands shot to Wanda’s waist, gripping in a mix of panic and instinct, but even that was half-hearted; her body was teetering on the edge of losing control entirely.

“Wanda…” she gasped, voice trembling, barely a whisper. “I… I can’t… I really… can’t… You’ll hate me…”

Her words died in her throat, choked off by the overwhelming scent, the slick heat pressed against her, the needy moans of her Wanda. She squeezed her eyes shut, praying she could hold on, praying she could resist, but her body was screaming in rebellion.

Wanda whimpered, shifting again, almost instinctively pressing closer, completely lost in her own need. Every movement, every sigh, pushed Y/N closer to the edge she had fought so hard to resist.

Y/N’s fists clenched at her sides, teeth gritted, the struggle written across every trembling line of her body. She was on the verge of losing it—completely, utterly.

Wanda’s whimpering grew more frantic. She shifted desperately, pressing into Y/N again before suddenly freezing, her hands fumbling at the buckle of Y/N’s combat suit pants.

“Wanda—no!” Y/N gasped, her voice cracking as panic and arousal warred violently inside her. Her hands shot down instinctively, trying to stop Wanda, but her body was already trembling, every nerve alight from the overpowering pheromones.

Wanda’s green eyes were glazed, pupils blown wide with heat-driven need. She didn’t hesitate, her fingers working at the buckle, jerking at it with fumbling insistence. “Please… I need you…” she whimpered, voice raw and desperate, completely lost to her instincts.

Y/N’s chest heaved, sweat beading on her temple. She pressed her palms harder against Wanda’s shoulders, trying to push her back, but even that small movement was agony — every second of proximity burned hotter, every scent, every motion pulling her closer to the edge.

“I… can’t… You’ll hate me!” Y/N choked out, voice trembling, eyes squeezed shut. Her teeth clenched as her fangs itched uncontrollably, her cock straining painfully in her pants. She had to stop herself, had to get away, but Wanda wasn’t letting go.

Wanda whined again, pressing closer despite Y/N’s frantic struggle, letting her hands roam, utterly consumed by need. The room was thick with heat, scent, and tension — every second a battle Y/N might not survive.

Wanda didn’t pause. Every rational thought gone, every instinct overridden, she continued removing Y/N’s clothes with clumsy, desperate movements.

First the combat suit top — it went over Y/N’s shoulders, tearing slightly at the seams as Wanda’s hands fumbled with the fabric. Y/N groaned, pressing her eyes shut, trying to resist, trying to keep control as the scent of Wanda’s heat swirled around her.

Wanda’s eyes roam Y/N’s chest, seeing the black bra, but then her eyes caught the little patches under Y/N’s collarbones. Pheromone blockers. Two tiny pieces meant to keep Y/N’s Alpha scent contained, meant to protect both of them from this very scenario.

Wanda’s nose twitched, and before Y/N could even speak, she let out a low, throaty growl — a pure, omega growl, sweet and desperate, utterly lost in need.

Y/N’s heart jolted. Her cock throbbed painfully, fangs aching to sink. That tiny growl — so raw, so needy — did something unrelenting to her body. She could feel herself reacting, alpha instincts screaming, arousal flaring like wildfire.

“Wanda—stop, no!” Y/N gasped, tugging at her, voice broken, panicked. But Wanda didn’t care.

With trembling hands, slick with heat and desire, Wanda ripped the pheromone blockers from Y/N’s collarbones. The instant they came off, Y/N felt it — her Alpha pheromones bursting free, thick, heavy, alive, flooding the room.

The effect was immediate. Wanda moaned, a high, desperate sound, and trembled against Y/N, pressing down harder, her hips rocking slightly on instinct. Whimpers tumbled from her lips as her body reacted violently to the flood of Alpha scent, heat and need colliding in a heady, intoxicating storm.

Y/N’s hands shook, gripping Wanda’s waist, nails digging in as she fought to maintain control. Her own instincts were screaming, telling her this is yours, claim her, she’s yours, she needs you!

But Y/N’s mind still screamed louder. Not like this. Not while she’s lost to heat. Not until she can choose.

Wanda’s thighs squeezed tightly around her, her breaths coming in short, desperate gasps. “I… I need you… inside me… please… Alpha…”

The words were broken, pleading, dripping with heat-fueled desire. Every tremor of her body, every whimper, drove Y/N closer to the edge.

Y/N’s chest heaved. Her Alpha scent now rolling thick and heavy into the room, mixing with Wanda’s heat, making the air almost electric. She was trapped, every part of her body screaming in need, but her mind still fought — for Wanda, for control, for both of them.

Wanda pressed herself onto Y/N, her small body practically melting into the Alpha. Her nose brushed along Y/N’s neck, teeth grazing lightly in little nips, lips pressing soft, frantic kisses against the curve of Y/N’s jawline. Every touch was a plea.

“It hurts… it hurts so much,” Wanda whimpered, her voice ragged with need. Her hands clawed weakly at Y/N’s shoulders, desperate for grounding, for comfort, for anything.

Y/N gasped, body trembling violently. Every nerve was on fire, every instinct screaming to claim, to soothe, to answer her heat. Her hands shook, her mind spinning, and for a moment she thought she could fight it. She tried.

But the pleading in Wanda’s voice, the way she pressed into her, the way her pheromones engulfed Y/N, was too much. She couldn’t hold anymore. Not for a single second longer.

With a sharp inhale, Y/N shifted, carefully but decisively flipping them both so that Wanda was lying on the mattress. The moment Y/N’s body left her, Wanda’s legs spread instinctively, her inner heat desperate, exposed, calling for what she needed.

Y/N pressed a soft, apologetic kiss to Wanda’s cheek, murmuring, “I’m sorry… I can’t… I can’t help it anymore.”

Wanda let out a low, needy whine — and then, without hesitation, she pulled Y/N down into a heated, desperate kiss. Her lips crushed against Y/N’s with all the frustration, longing, and ache she had been holding back. Her hands tangled in Y/N’s hair, tugging gently, claiming.

Y/N groaned softly into the kiss, hands trembling over Wanda’s body, heart pounding as desire and restraint collided. The heat between them was electric, thick with pheromones and need, yet threaded with something else — care, apology, and something neither had dared admit until now.

The world outside the cabin ceased to exist. There was only heat, scent, and the frantic, desperate press of their bodies against each other.

As their lips met in a heated, desperate kiss, Y/N pressed a trembling hand to Wanda’s cheek, her voice low and rough against her lips.

“I’m… I’m sorry, Wanda,” she murmured, breathless. “I’ll make it stop. I… I can’t hold it anymore, but I’ll be gentle. I promise.”

Wanda’s only response was a whine, a tiny shake of her body pressing closer, needy hands clinging to Y/N as though letting go wasn’t an option.

Y/N’s hands moved with shaking precision, carefully sliding Wanda’s underwear down, exposing her heated, slick skin. Wanda’s legs spread wider again, hips wiggling instinctively against Y/N, silently begging for more.

Y/N swallowed hard, fumbling with the waistband of her own combat suit, pulling it and her boxers down in one motion. She froze for a moment, staring at the desperate, glistening heat before her, heart hammering, every Alpha instinct screaming. She couldn’t afford to lose control, not entirely. She had to be careful.

Sliding slowly forward, she positioned herself at Wanda’s entrance, pressing gently against her damp heat. Wanda’s hips moved instinctively, tiny whimpers escaping her lips as Y/N tried to take it slow, careful, resisting the urge to go faster, to sink deep and claim her the way her body demanded.

The moment Y/N slid inside, Wanda gasped, a long, loud moan that reverberated through the small room. The sound hit Y/N like a lightning bolt, every nerve screaming, and she pressed a shaky hand to Wanda’s hip to steady herself, to try to keep the pace gentle.

But Wanda didn’t want slow. Her arms shot around Y/N’s waist, pulling her down, urging her faster, her legs instinctively closing around Y/N’s hips to guide every movement. Her moans grew louder, desperate, tinged with frustration and pure, raw need.

Y/N groaned softly, apologizing again, even as Wanda’s walls clenched and rolled around her, forcing her deeper. “Wanda… I’m sorry… I—”

Wanda only pressed closer, grinding her hips against Y/N, lost in the intensity of the sensation, unable to wait. “More… faster… please…” she begged, voice broken, trembling as she arched up into every movement, chasing the overwhelming pleasure rolling through her.

Y/N’s body tensed, heart hammering, struggling to maintain that thin line between restraint and giving in completely. Every motion of Wanda’s hips, every tight, needy clench of her walls, threatened to push her over the edge. And yet, even as she lost a fraction of control, she kept sliding in slowly, softly, matching Wanda’s frantic rhythm as best she could, whispering apologies with every thrust.

The cabin was filled with the sound of desperate moans, their ragged breathing, and the slick, wet friction of two bodies moving together — a storm of pheromones, heat, and the first tentative surrender to a bond that neither had fully understood until now.

Y/N’s hands pressed against Wanda’s hips, holding her steady, trying desperately to maintain some control. Her movements were deliberate at first, slow and measured, coaxing Wanda gently, whispering soft apologies between ragged breaths.

But every thrust, every tight, rolling squeeze of Wanda’s walls, ignited something deep within her. Her body screamed, her Alpha instincts clawing at her mind. Claim her… claim her… The words repeated over and over like a mantra, echoing in her head, growing louder with every moan and whimper from the Omega beneath her.

Her hips began to betray her, moving gradually faster, deeper, more desperate, even as her mind fought. Each inch she sank into Wanda sent a thrill shooting through her veins, the friction against her tightening body almost unbearable. Y/N’s fangs itched, her breath came ragged, and yet she held onto the smallest threads of restraint, whispering apologies to the woman beneath her.

Wanda’s moans grew louder, higher-pitched, frantic with need. Her hips jerked, grinding against Y/N with abandon, each movement coaxing her Alpha closer to the edge.

“Wan… Wanda—” Y/N gasped, voice breaking, as Wanda’s walls clenched around her again.

And then it happened. Wanda’s second climax hit, her body shuddering violently, nails digging into Y/N’s shoulders, head thrown back, moaning like it was the only language she knew. The scent of her heat filled the small room, thick and intoxicating, almost too much to bear.

But even that wasn’t enough. Her body didn’t relax; her hips jerked, pleading for more, chasing another wave of pleasure. Y/N’s own heart thudded violently as she realized it — Wanda needed her more than her body could tell, more than any single release could satisfy.

Her walls clenched again around Y/N, teasing, desperate, and the raw, unrestrained heat pressed against every inch of her. She was lost, caught between restraint and desire, every instinct screaming claim her, claim her, claim her.

Y/N groaned, biting her lip as she buried herself deeper, sliding in harder, moving with her need, desperate to bring Wanda what she wanted — even if it pushed her closer to losing herself entirely.

The cabin echoed with the sounds of desperate pleasure, panting breaths, and the unstoppable pull of fated desire, the storm between them only growing more consuming with every passing second.

The pull inside Y/N only grew stronger, a roaring tide she could no longer ignore. The voice in her head — her Alpha instincts — was deafening now. Claim her. Claim her. Make her our Omega. Our Omega. My Omega.

She pressed herself against Wanda again, groaning and growling, lips crushing onto hers as she tasted her desperate need. Every nerve in her body was on fire, every motion stoking the heat between them. Wanda writhed beneath her, moaning and gasping, lost in the haze of her own heat and desire.

Before she even realized it, Y/N shifted positions, moving behind Wanda, positioning her butt up before slipping inside her in a deep, demanding thrust. One arm braced against the mattress to hold them both up, the other wrapping around Wanda, pulling her close.

Y/N’s lips found the nape of Wanda’s neck — a sensitive, intimate spot, the very place where an Alpha’s claim would bond an Omega forever. She licked and nipped repeatedly, feeling Wanda shiver and mewl under her, hips pressing harder, desperate for every touch. Every movement, every sensation screamed claim her in Y/N’s mind.

The voice in her head continued to scream, relentless, possessive.

Then, somewhere deep in the fog of sensation, Y/N realized what she was doing, and panic lanced through her. No… stop… Wanda already hates me… I can’t… not like this… please. she fought the voice desperately, as tears streaked her cheeks. Her Alpha instincts raged against her mind, her body betraying every word.

Her movements didn’t slow, her tongue didn’t stop, every thrust and lick carrying her closer to the edge. She could feel the knot starting to swell, thick and urgent as she continue to thrust into Wanda. Her fangs aching to claim, to mark, to bind Wanda to her forever.

In a flash of desperate clarity, she bit down hard on her own arm, tasting copper, drawing blood, anchoring herself just enough to ride out the flood of instinct without losing control entirely.

Wanda’s cries and moans surrounded her, pleading and needy, urging her on even as she tried to fight. But it was too late — the sensations, the pheromones, the overwhelming pull of fate and heat were unstoppable.

With a shuddering cry, Y/N climaxed, knot swelling and slipping fully inside Wanda, locking them together. Waves of pleasure tore through both of them as Wanda’s body convulsed beneath her, moaning loudly, pressing every inch of herself against Y/N, utterly lost in need and release.

Y/N collapsed against Wanda, trembling, her body shaking with the storm of sensations she had just survived. Soft sobs escaped her lips, muffled against her arm she was still biting. Every fiber of her Alpha instincts was still thrumming with need, guilt, and the residue of pleasure. She bit down harder on her arm, the sharp pain cutting through the haze and grounding her just enough to keep from losing herself further.

She wasn’t sure what would happen if she let go completely — if she released the tension in her body, would she lose control again? Would her instincts push her too far? The thought made her shiver, and she held herself together by clinging tightly to Wanda.

Wanda, finally sated for the moment, had gone limp beneath her. Her breathing was slow, even, and her heat, for now, was tempered. She was sound asleep, curled instinctively against Y/N, small whimpers escaping her lips from lingering pleasure and fatigue.

---

Next Morning

Wanda stirred, eyelids fluttering open. Her mind was sharp now, lucid, and for a brief moment she felt… nothing unusual. Somehow, the overwhelming pull of heat was gone. She blinked, trying to gather her thoughts.

Then her body betrayed her. A dull ache radiated from her core, sore and wet, muscles tight from tension and release. Her nakedness on the bed made her gasp softly, a mix of shock and embarrassment flooding her. Slowly, memories crept back — the mission, the sudden onset of heat, the way it had overwhelmed her, how she’d lost control.

Her mind raced, trying to make sense of it. It wasn’t supposed to happen… but it did. And Y/N… The picture of Y/N carrying her from Hydra’s base, soothing her, staying close as her body demanded, forced itself into her thoughts.

Wanda’s chest tightened. She had always hated Alphas. They claimed, they abused, they forced Omegas into submission and then blamed them for manipulating with pheromones. The very idea of being at their mercy made her stomach twist. And now, naked and sore, she remembered how completely she had been at Y/N’s mercy.

Panic rose in her throat. Her hand shot to the back of her neck — the sensitive nape where Alphas claimed Omegas, the mark that would bond them forever. Her fingers traced her skin, finding… nothing. No bite, no mark. Relief washed through her, quick and sharp, but confusion followed almost immediately.

And then she heard it. A wet, ragged sound behind her. Alarm flaring, she turned sharply, eyes wide.

Y/N was there. On the bed, writhing, fangs bared, biting fiercely into her own arm. Blood smeared across her skin and the sheets. Her body trembled violently, taut with tension, every muscle straining, lost somewhere between instinct and desperation.

Wanda froze, heart hammering. “Y/N?” she whispered, voice shaking.

Y/N’s head lifted slightly, eyes glazed, unfocused, and a low, guttural groan escaped her lips. She wasn’t aware of Wanda’s gaze, wasn’t seeing her — she was trapped in the raw storm of her Alpha instincts, trying to control herself, trying not to harm the woman she loved.

Wanda’s mind spun. Her core ached, sore and sensitive from the intensity of her heat, every muscle still trembling from the release she hadn’t fully expected. And now she was faced with Y/N — the Alpha she hated, yet couldn’t deny the pull toward.

The Alpha she had refused countless times, brushing her off, cold and distant. The Alpha she had believed embodied everything she despised: possessiveness, entitlement, and the dangerous instinct to take what she wanted.

And yet… here she was. Naked, vulnerable, writhing, and entirely human in front of Wanda. The Alpha who had carried her from Hydra’s base, soothed her, and — astonishingly — slept with her during her heat without claiming her. Without marking her.

Wanda’s chest tightened at the memory, confusion and a strange, reluctant admiration mingling with the lingering ache between her legs. She had been so sure of what Alphas were, what they did, and yet Y/N had… restrained herself. She had indulged her need, had given in to her Alpha instincts, yet she hadn’t taken Wanda by force.

Her hands tightened slightly on the sheets, nails digging into the fabric as she stared at Y/N, who was still lost in her own storm of instincts, biting her arm, fangs itching, trembling to keep control.

Part of Wanda wanted to flee, to retreat, to bury herself in self-protection and old hatred. But another part — a deeper, more confusing part — couldn’t look away. She couldn’t ignore the way her body still ached, the way it still craved the closeness, the lingering warmth of Y/N pressed against her during the heat. And then there was the strange, disarming comfort in seeing Y/N struggle so hard not to hurt her.

Her eyes widened as she noticed the crimson staining Y/N’s arm — the Alpha had been biting herself to fight her instincts, to hold back the primal need to claim her. Wanda’s breath hitched. Slowly, cautiously, she reached out, hands glowing faintly with red magic, and gently cupped Y/N’s face.

“Stop… stop hurting yourself,” she whispered softly, voice trembling with a mix of awe and worry.

Y/N froze for a moment, still trembling, and then let out a broken sob, lowering her head into Wanda’s hands. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she whispered, “I… I’m sorry… I… I couldn’t… I tried…” Her voice cracked, raw with guilt, shame, and the lingering pull of instincts she had fought to restrain.

Wanda blinked, stunned. She had always assumed that Y/N — just because she was an Alpha — was dangerous, forceful, impossible to control, someone who would take without thinking. And yet here she was, a woman trembling, crying, and apologizing for not being able to control her own instincts.

Her hands moved instinctively, glowing as she closed the shallow wound on Y/N’s arm, the magic knitting the skin together, easing the sting and the blood. Y/N flinched slightly at the touch but didn’t resist, allowing herself to be cared for, even as sobs continued to shake her body.

“You… you didn’t hurt me,” Wanda said softly, voice barely above a whisper, still trying to process what she was seeing.

Y/N wiped at her tears quickly, shifting back slightly, keeping a careful distance. “Are you… okay? I didn’t… I didn’t hurt you, did I? Did I—” Her voice trembled, emotion raw, as she pressed her hands together in front of her. “I swear I was trying… I just…”

Wanda shook her head slowly. “No… you didn’t…” she whispered, her voice soft but firm. “You… you didn’t hurt me at all.”

Y/N took a cautious breath, still keeping a small space between them. Her voice was quiet, tentative. “Your… heat… how… how come it’s over? I… I thought it lasts a week.”

Wanda blinked, still processing the situation herself. She shifted slightly on the bed, running a hand over her forehead as if trying to steady her thoughts. “I… I don’t know,” she admitted, voice low, confused. “It… it wasn’t supposed to happen, not like this. It felt… induced, sudden… maybe because of the mission, or… or being so close to you. I… I think it never fully developed.”

Y/N’s eyes widened slightly, disbelief mingling with curiosity. “Induced…?” she echoed, her own instincts still twitching at the memory of Wanda’s scent, her pheromones, the way she had lost herself completely.

Wanda nodded, biting her lip. “Yeah… it… it was triggered, I guess… by… by you being there. But it wasn’t my full heat. That’s why it passed so quickly… I… I think.” Her voice faltered, uncertainty and fatigue threading through her words.

Y/N’s chest tightened, a mix of relief and lingering tension pressing down on her. “I… I didn’t know it could… stop like that,” she admitted softly, voice barely above a whisper. “I… I thought it would last… longer… I…” She trailed off, swallowing hard, trying to reconcile the lingering pull of instincts with the reality of Wanda’s sudden calm.

“I… I’m sorry,” she whispered again, her voice heavy with emotion. She reached for one of the blankets draped over the bed, wrapping it quickly around her naked form. Every movement felt clumsy, still taut with residual Alpha tension, but necessary — she needed distance, needed to ground herself.

“I… I need… I need to shower,” Y/N said quietly, avoiding Wanda’s gaze. Her voice was small, hesitant, but firm enough to leave no room for argument. “I’ll… I’ll be back.”

Without waiting for a response, she stepped away from the bed, blanket clutched around her, and moved toward the small bathroom of the safe house. The warmth of the water, she hoped, would help wash away some of the intensity, some of the instincts still clawing at her mind.

Behind her, Wanda remained on the bed, naked and vulnerable, still processing the surreal aftermath of her heat and the shocking reality of Y/N’s restraint. She lay there quietly, watching the door close, feeling both confusion and a strange, reluctant sense of trust beginning to form toward the Alpha who had… not claimed her, despite everything.

The room was silent except for the faint sound of running water, and in that quiet, both of them had a moment to breathe, to begin untangling the chaos of heat, instinct, and unexpected connection.

---

After leaving the bathroom, Y/N finally contacted the team, her voice calm but firm over the comms. “We’re both okay,” she said. She deliberately lied about the situation, fabricating a sudden rut and claiming Wanda had used her powers to contain her in the safe house. She carefully avoided exposing Wanda’s true second gender, protecting her secret as always.

The team acknowledged the message, voices full of concern, and promised to debrief them once they returned. Y/N ended the call, taking a deep breath and steeling herself for the trip back.

When they arrived at the compound, Y/N led Wanda inside quietly. Once they were alone, she turned toward her, eyes full of remorse. “I… I’m sorry,” she whispered once more, voice heavy with everything left unsaid. “For… for all of it.”

Wanda nodded silently, still processing, her mind tangled with the memories of her heat, the sensations, and Y/N’s restraint. She opened her mouth to say something but couldn’t find the words.

Without another word, Y/N wrapped herself in a blanket, avoiding further closeness, and retreated to her own room, leaving Wanda on her own to gather her thoughts.

The following week, Y/N deliberately kept her distance. She didn’t approach Wanda, didn’t try to talk or touch, carefully giving space while her instincts simmered beneath the surface, waiting.

Wanda, meanwhile, was still processing. Her emotions were tangled and confusing — relief, lingering desire, admiration, fear, and the faint stirrings of something unfamiliar and unsettling. She replayed the moments over and over, the feel of Y/N’s body, the way she had restrained herself, the closeness she had offered without claiming her.

She didn’t know what to think, or how to feel. All she knew was that despite herself, her thoughts kept drifting back to Y/N, and she couldn’t deny that the memory of the Alpha who had cared for her so intensely left her… unsettled in a way she didn’t understand.

---

The team had realized almost immediately that something was off. Y/N, who had spent every spare moment chasing Wanda since the day she joined, had suddenly gone silent. No teasing, no persistent invitations, no casual touches or lingering glances. If anything, she seemed to be actively avoiding the witch.

Nat was the first to break the silence. She didn’t waste time with pleasantries. She barged into Wanda’s room, slamming the door behind her with a sharp clack. “Alright,” Nat said, crossing her arms, her tone firm. “Spill it. What the hell happened with Y/N?”

Wanda looked up, her brow furrowed in confusion. “I… what do you mean?”

Nat sighed, rolling her eyes. “Don’t play dumb, Wanda. Y/N told us she had a sudden… rut during the mission. You both didn’t come back for two days, and now… now it’s like you’re actively avoiding each other. Something happened, and I’m not letting it slide. Tell me.”

Wanda’s stomach tightened. The memories of the heat, the safe house, the way Y/N had restrained herself, all surged back. She opened her mouth, then closed it again, trying to form words that wouldn’t expose herself.

Nat’s sharp gaze didn’t waver. “Did she—? I mean, did Y/N force herself on you?” she asked, carefully but directly. Her voice was edged with concern, but there was also that hard, unyielding undertone that made it clear she wouldn’t accept vague answers.

Wanda’s eyes widened. Her chest tightened. She had been so confused herself about what had happened, about her own feelings and sensations… and now Nat was asking this. Panic surged.

“No,” Wanda said quickly, shaking her head. “She… she didn’t. She—” Her voice faltered, and she stopped, unsure how much to say. “She… she tried to… hold back. She didn’t… she didn’t force me. I… I don’t know how to explain it…”

Nat’s expression softened slightly, though the concern in her eyes remained sharp. She crossed the room and stood in front of Wanda, arms folded, a knowing look on her face. “Okay,” she said slowly, her voice calm but pointed. “But… you two *did it*, right?”

Wanda blinked, caught off guard. “I… what?”

Nat’s voice dropped, quiet but laced with steel. “Wanda… did she hurt you?”

Wanda’s breath hitched. The question slammed into her, tearing at the knot in her chest. Her mouth opened, but no sound came. How could she say it? That it wasn’t Y/N’s rut but her own heat? That she had been the one losing control, clinging to Y/N, begging her? That Y/N had been so careful, so patient, even when instincts were eating her alive?

Her silence stretched too long.

Nat’s eyes narrowed, her jaw tightening. “She did, didn’t she?” Her tone hardened, venom dripping with every word. “That bastard— I’ll kill her.”

“No!” Wanda shot up from the bed, panic surging through her as her eyes glowed faintly red. “No, Nat, stop—please!”

Nat froze, thrown off by the desperation in Wanda’s voice.

“It wasn’t like that,” Wanda rushed out, her words tumbling over each other. Her hands trembled as she pressed them against her chest. “She didn’t hurt me, she… she helped me. I wasn’t—” She choked, swallowing hard, her face burning with shame. “I wasn’t in control. It wasn’t her rut, Nat. It was… it was my heat.”

Nat’s brows knit together, her head tilting slightly. “Heat? But you’re a… beta.”

The word stung, almost like an accusation. Wanda’s breath hitched, her pulse pounding in her ears. She lowered her eyes, shoulders curling inward as though the weight of the truth might crush her.

“I’m not,” she whispered, voice barely audible. “I’m not a beta.”

Nat blinked, caught off guard. “Wanda…?”

Her lips trembled, the confession clawing its way out of her throat. “I lied. I’ve always lied. I had to. No one would’ve let me stay here, no one would’ve taken me seriously if they knew I was an Omega.” Her hands clenched against her knees, knuckles white. “But I am. And the suppressants— they just—” she shook her head, frustrated tears burning her eyes. “They stopped working when I met her.”

Nat’s face hardened, jaw tightening as the realization sank in. “So you’re telling me… you went into heat. And Y/N was there.” Her voice was sharp, clipped—dangerously controlled.

Wanda’s chest tightened. “Nat—”

“Did she mark you?” Nat cut in, her green eyes burning with fury. “Tell me right now if she forced a claim on you, Wanda, because I swear—”

“No!” Wanda blurted, panic lacing her voice. She grabbed Nat’s wrist before she could stand, holding her down with desperate strength. “She didn’t. She didn’t do anything like that.”

Nat’s nostrils flared, unconvinced. “You were in heat, Wanda. You were vulnerable. And she’s an Alpha. Don’t you dare protect her if—”

“I’m not protecting her,” Wanda interrupted, her eyes glassy with tears. “I’m telling you the truth. She didn’t force me. She could’ve, but she didn’t. She was careful, Nat. She helped me through it. She… she was good to me.”

Her voice cracked, shame and longing spilling out in the same breath. “She held me when I thought I was going to fall apart. She touched me like I mattered, not like I was just an Omega in heat. And now she won’t even look at me, and I—” She bit her lip hard, cutting off the words, but it was too late.

Nat froze, her fists still clenched, but the sound of Wanda’s voice cracking made something twist in her chest. She sat back slowly, watching Wanda with sharp, searching eyes.

“Wanda…” she said carefully, her tone quieter now. “You’re saying she didn’t take advantage of you?”

Wanda shook her head fiercely. “No. She… she was the only thing holding me together. She didn’t hurt me, Nat. She helped me.” Her voice wavered, and she added in a whisper, “And I hate that she’s avoiding me now. I hate it because I miss her. I miss everything.”

Nat inhaled slowly, trying to let the fury drain out, but her protective instincts weren’t so easily calmed. “Alright,” she said finally, voice steady again. “If that’s what happened, then I believe you. But…” her eyes narrowed, “…I thought you hated her.”

Wanda froze. Her breath caught in her chest, her lips parting but no sound coming out. She had spent months making sure everyone knew how much she despised Alphas—their arrogance, their entitlement, the way they looked at her like she was something to claim. And Y/N…

Her throat tightened. Y/N had asked her out more than once, always gently, always with a hopeful smile that Wanda crushed every single time. She remembered the way she’d scoffed, the way she’d rolled her eyes, the venom in her voice when she told Y/N she would never want someone like her.

So why was her heart aching now, days later, because Y/N wouldn’t look at her?

“I…” Wanda’s hands fisted in her lap, her eyes stinging. “I don’t know anymore.”

Nat tilted her head, studying her. “You don’t know if you hate her, or you don’t know if you like her?”

Wanda’s breath hitched. Her heart pounded so hard it drowned out the quiet hum of the room. Deep down, she knew. She’d known from the very first time she laid eyes on Y/N—that strange pull in her chest, the way her stomach fluttered when those Alpha pheromones brushed over her like an invisible hand.

Suppressants had always worked for her, even when she was surrounded by other Alphas. But with Y/N… the pills faltered. Her body burned for her. The ache in her bones, the warmth that coiled low in her belly whenever Y/N was too close—it all made sense now, even if Wanda didn’t want to accept it.

She hated Alphas. She’d told herself that over and over, built up her armor against them. But Y/N wasn’t like the rest. Y/N wasn’t arrogant, wasn’t entitled—she was kind, steady, respectful. And that only made it worse.

So she pushed Y/N away. Again and again. She used her cold words, her scoffs, her glares as a shield. Because every time Y/N smiled at her, every time she inhaled those intoxicating pheromones, her body betrayed her. It ached. It *wanted.* Sometimes, it even tipped her into heat like it had this time—unexpected, brutal, undeniable.

Wanda swallowed hard, blinking fast as if the motion could push the truth back down where she’d buried it. But Nat’s piercing gaze cut right through her defenses.

“I don’t hate her,” Wanda whispered finally, her voice trembling. “I never did. I was just… scared. Because whenever she’s near, it feels like I can’t fight it anymore.”

Nat’s eyes narrowed slightly, her sharp mind putting pieces together with alarming speed. Suppressants failing. Heats triggered by a single Alpha. The way Wanda’s voice cracked just speaking of Y/N.

“Wanda,” she said slowly, deliberately, “this isn’t just attraction. Not the casual kind. You know what this means, don’t you?”

Wanda froze, her breath caught in her throat.

Nat leaned forward, lowering her voice even though they were alone. “Your suppressants don’t just stop working for no reason. Heats don’t just spike like that around any Alpha. That only happens with one person. Your person.” Her eyes softened, even as her words struck like a blade. “Y/N is your mate.”

Wanda’s lips parted, but no words came. Her whole body went still, as if the truth had knocked the air right out of her lungs.

Mate.

The word rattled in her chest, terrifying and undeniable all at once. She wanted to argue, to deny it, but deep down—deep where no walls or excuses could reach—she knew Nat was right. Every moment, every ache, every stolen glance at Y/N had been building to this truth.

And now that it was spoken aloud, there was no taking it back.

---

After talking to Nat, Wanda felt overwhelmed. She thought about Y/N being her fated mate. Was it true? Were they fated. But she swore she wouldn’t end up with an alpha. She swore she would fight. And now she found her mate.

She stayed the whole day thinking about it. When she realized it was already midnight.

With a sigh Wanda stand up and go out of her bedroom, heading for the kitchen.

The kitchen was dim, the faint hum of the refrigerator the only sound. Wanda padded in, expecting silence, but stopped short when she saw Y/N leaning against the counter, a half-empty glass of water in her hand.

The Alpha looked worn down, shadows bruising beneath her eyes. The second her gaze flicked up and met Wanda’s, she startled—almost like she’d been caught doing something wrong.

“W—Wanda,” Y/N muttered quickly, setting the glass down with a clink. “I’m going already. Sorry.”

She moved fast, shoulders hunched, as if she could escape before Wanda’s presence unraveled her further. But Wanda’s hand shot out, catching her wrist before she could flee.

“Wait,” Wanda said, breathless. Her touch tightened instinctively, her heart hammering. “I want to talk.”

And then it happened. Without meaning to, without even realizing, Wanda’s control slipped. The subtle pulse of her Omega pheromones slipped free, sweet and heavy in the air.

Y/N froze. Her eyes widened, panic sparking instantly as the scent hit her like a wave.

“Wanda—don’t.” Y/N’s voice cracked with desperation as she tried to pull away, but Wanda’s grip held fast. “Please, you—you can’t—”

“I’m not doing it on purpose,” Wanda whispered, realizing too late what was happening. Her body was betraying her again, answering to Y/N in ways she couldn’t stop.

The Alpha’s chest rose and fell sharply, like she was fighting for every breath. Her pulse thundered in her neck as she wrenched her wrist back, stumbling toward the hallway. “I need to go.”

But Wanda followed, her feet moving before her mind could catch up.

“Y/N, please!”

Y/N reached her room, slammed her palm against the door and tried to shut it, but the wood halted mid-swing, glowing faint red. Wanda’s magic held it open, trembling with the force of her own turmoil.

Y/N turned back, eyes dark and frantic. “Wanda—stop. You don’t know what you’re doing.”

But Wanda only took a step closer, her voice breaking as her eyes shone in the dim light. “Then tell me why it feels like I can’t breathe when you’re not here.”

Y/N’s chest tightened at Wanda’s words, the raw plea in her voice cutting straight through her. But instead of relief, instead of the hope she secretly craved, dread crashed over her like ice water.

Her hands trembled as she pressed harder against the door, trying to make it budge despite Wanda’s magic. “Don’t say that,” Y/N rasped, eyes locked on the floor, refusing to meet Wanda’s gaze.

Wanda blinked, stunned. “What?”

“You’re only saying that because of what happened,” Y/N forced out, voice low and ragged. “Because your heat—because I—” She stopped, swallowing hard, unable to finish the thought. Her throat burned with shame.

“That’s not true.” Wanda’s voice cracked, her fingers tightening on the wood as if she could hold her words in place the way her magic held the door.

Y/N shook her head fiercely. “You don’t mean it, Wanda. You think you do, but it’s just the bond messing with you. If I let myself believe it…” Her jaw clenched, her eyes finally lifting to Wanda’s, glistening with the weight of sleepless nights. “If I let myself believe you actually wanted me, and then I found out it was just pheromones—just your body tricking you—I wouldn’t survive that.”

The words landed like a blow. Wanda’s breath hitched, tears pricking her eyes. She didn’t let go of the door, didn’t let go of Y/N. Instead, she stepped closer, her voice trembling but fierce.

“Then make me prove it.”

Y/N’s eyes widened, caught off guard.

“Let me prove that it’s not just my body,” Wanda whispered, her Omega pheromones pulsing heavier now, unable to be contained. “That it’s me. That it’s always been me.”

Y/N staggered back a step as if the force of it pushed her. “Wanda—”

But Wanda only moved forward, refusing to let her retreat again.

Y/N’s voice broke through the tension, bitter and trembling all at once.

“Then why did you always say no?” she asked, her eyes searching Wanda’s with an ache that made her stomach twist. “Every time I asked you out, every time I tried—you pushed me away. You even said…”

Her voice faltered. She looked down, jaw tight. “You even said you don’t like Alphas.”

Wanda’s lips parted, her throat tightening with guilt. “Y/N—”

Y/N’s voice cracked again, sharper this time. “So what changed, huh? Suddenly because your suppressants failed, because your body wants mine, now I’m good enough?”

The words burned as they left her, because even as she said them, her heart begged to believe otherwise.

Wanda flinched, tears welling at the edges of her eyes. “That’s not what this is.”

“Then what is it, Wanda?” Y/N snapped, finally lifting her gaze to meet hers, raw and desperate. “Because I can’t—” Her voice wavered, broke. “I can’t be the mistake you regret in the morning. I can’t be something you hate yourself for.”

Wanda’s breath shook, and she took a trembling step forward. “I never hated you,” she whispered, her voice thick with guilt. “I hated what you made me feel. I hated that every time you were near, my chest ached, my skin burned, and no amount of pills could make it stop. I told myself I hated you because it was easier than admitting the truth.”

Y/N’s brows furrowed, her whole body tense. “And what truth is that?”

“That you might be the one I’ve been running from my whole life,” Wanda admitted, tears sliding down her cheeks now. “That you’re the Alpha who can undo me with a single look.”

The silence that followed was crushing. Y/N stood frozen, caught between disbelief and the yearning that clawed at her chest.

“Please,” Wanda whispered, voice breaking. “Don’t make me keep pretending I don’t want you.”

Wanda’s chest rose and fell in uneven breaths, her hands clenching at her sides. “I always hated Alphas,” she admitted, her voice raw, almost trembling. “Do you know why? Because they take whatever they want. And then they turn around and blame it on us—on Omegas. They say we tempted them, seduced them, like we’re nothing but… toys. Something to use when they can’t control themselves.”

Her throat tightened, but she forced the words out anyway. “I swore I would never let myself become that. Never let an Alpha decide who I was. So I hid. I took suppressants so strong they made me sick sometimes, but it was worth it. They hid my scent, they dulled my heat. They gave me control.”

Y/N’s jaw clenched, her chest aching as she listened, but she stayed rooted in place.

Wanda’s lips quivered as she continued, softer now, vulnerable in a way Y/N had never seen. “But since I met you, nothing works anymore. No matter how much I take, it’s like my body knows. The scent won’t stay buried. The heat keeps breaking through. And after… after that day in the cabin…” Her voice cracked, her eyes glistening. “I can’t stop thinking about you. About how it felt. I thought if I put enough distance, if I froze you out, it would fade. But it hasn’t. It’s only gotten worse. I miss you. I miss you so much it feels like it’s tearing me apart.”

Her words hung heavy in the air, pressing down on both of them.

Y/N finally exhaled, the sound shaky, almost broken. “You’re not the only one who felt it,” she whispered, her voice low but steady enough to make Wanda’s heart jolt.

Wanda’s breath caught.

“When I first met you, there was this… pull. Something I couldn’t explain. I’ve never seen anyone so beautiful in my life. And it didn’t make sense because you were a Beta—at least, that’s what everyone thought. Alphas aren’t supposed to feel something like that toward Betas, but I didn’t care.” Y/N gave a weak laugh, though her eyes stayed fixed on the ground between them. “I thought I was losing my mind, being drawn to you like that.”

She lifted her gaze then, meeting Wanda’s trembling one.

“And when I finally smelled it—your pheromones, your real scent… god, Wanda. Do you know how hard it was to hold back at the cabin? To fight my own instincts in that tiny place, when all I could smell was you?”

Her throat bobbed as she swallowed, words scraping out like a confession she’d buried too long. “It felt like every part of me was screaming to take you, to claim you, and it terrified me. Because I didn’t want you to think I was just another Alpha—like the ones you despise. I didn’t want you to feel trapped. I wanted…” she trailed off, shaking her head. “I wanted you to choose me, not be forced.”

Y/N’s voice cracked, the restraint in her tone raw. “So I fought it, even when my body was burning, even when it nearly broke me. Because the truth is, Wanda…” her lips parted, breath uneven, “…I’d rather destroy myself fighting those instincts than hurt you. Than become exactly what you’ve always feared.”

Wanda’s chest rose and fell too quickly, her eyes shimmering. She looked like she wanted to speak, but the words caught, tangled in her throat.

Y/N drew in a shaky breath, her voice low, almost breaking.

“I like you, Wanda. More than I’ve ever liked anyone.” Her eyes softened, even as her chest ached. “But I don’t want you to choose me because of… what happened. Because we lost control in that cabin. That wasn’t fair to you.”

Wanda’s brows knit, lips parting to protest, but Y/N pressed on.

“I didn’t claim you. I made sure of that. You still have a choice. You can walk away from me, and if you want to—” her voice faltered, throat tightening, “—you can mate with someone else. Someone you actually choose.”

The words hung in the air like poison. Wanda flinched as if they were physical blows. Her hands curled into fists at her sides, nails digging into her palms.

“Someone else…” she whispered, the phrase tasting wrong, bitter, like ash in her mouth. Her stomach turned violently, nausea crawling up her throat at just the thought. The very idea of another Alpha touching her, of another scent binding to hers, made her feel sick, made her body recoil.

But across from her, Y/N wasn’t any better. The moment she let the possibility slip out loud, it was like she’d swallowed broken glass. Her gut twisted, her whole chest aching with the image of Wanda with anyone else. Her jaw clenched so hard it hurt, bile rising at the thought.

Both of them stood there, breath unsteady, their bodies betraying the truth their words refused to voice: the mere thought of belonging to anyone else was unbearable.

Wanda swallowed hard, her hands trembling slightly at her sides. “Nat… she told me something. She said… she said we might be—”

“Fated mates?” Y/N interrupted softly, her voice trembling. “I know. But even if that’s true, I… I won’t force you into anything. You have a choice. I’ll even—” She grimaced, pressing a hand to her mouth, “The thought makes me wanna puke but… if it makes you happy… ”

Wanda’s eyes narrowed, a flush rising to her cheeks. The sheer insistence, the self-denial—it irritated her more than she expected. “Y/N,” she said sharply, stepping closer, voice low but firm, “if you want a date with me… just shut up.”

Y/N blinked, startled by the intensity, her own body tightening with a mixture of fear, anticipation, and longing. “I—” she began, but Wanda cut her off with a frustrated groan, leaning closer, eyes locked on hers.

“I want you,” Wanda said, voice rough, desperate but controlled. “Not because of some heat or pheromones. Not because of anything else. Just… me. Only me. Understand?”

Y/N’s chest ached, the tension in her limbs fading just enough for her to breathe. She nodded slowly, swallowing the lump in her throat. “Yeah,” she whispered. “I… I understand.”

Wanda’s lips quirked into a small, almost shy smile, though her hands were still tight at her sides. “Good,” she murmured. “Then… maybe we can start with a date. And you can stop overthinking everything.”

Y/N let out a small laugh, shaky but genuine, and for the first time in days, the pull in her chest didn’t feel like torment—it felt like possibility.

Before Y/N could respond, Wanda stepped forward and threw her arms around her, pressing close. Her voice wavered, soft and desperate.

“Now… can you please… release your pheromones?” she whimpered against Y/N’s shoulder. “I’m… I’m going crazy.”

Y/N froze for a heartbeat, heart hammering in her chest. She could feel the subtle pulse of Wanda’s pheromones even through the embrace—an involuntary signal of need, of trust. Wanda’s body trembled against hers, shivering slightly as if her very nerves were raw and exposed.

Slowly, Y/N exhaled and let herself relax just enough, the tiny release of her Alpha scent washing over Wanda. Wanda’s grip tightened, letting out a soft sigh as her body visibly began to calm.

“You… you can breathe now,” Y/N murmured, voice gentle, careful. She rested her chin lightly on Wanda’s head, letting the subtle pheromone flow steady, protective. “I’ve got you.”

Wanda’s arms clung tighter, nuzzling into Y/N’s neck. “Don’t ever leave me like that again,” she whispered hoarsely, voice muffled against her shoulder. “I… I can’t handle it.”

Y/N hugged her back firmly, a small, reassuring smile brushing her lips. “I’m not going anywhere,” she promised softly. “I’ll always be here. You just have to let me help.”

Wanda shivered again, but this time it was relief, not need or panic, as her breathing slowly evened out. For the first time in days, she felt safe—and like maybe, finally, she could trust someone completely.

Y/N hugged Wanda tighter, pressing her body gently against hers. She buried her nose in Wanda’s hair, inhaling the sweet, intoxicating scent of her Omega pheromones. A low groan slipped past her lips, the pull of her instincts undeniable even now.

“Dang it,” Y/N cursed under her breath, feeling her body betray her again, her cock stirring despite the calm between them.

Wanda pulled back just enough to look up at her, a soft laugh escaping her lips. “Careful, Alpha,” she teased, the tension in her voice light and playful for the first time in weeks. “Don’t get too carried away before our date.”

Y/N couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped her own lips, shaking her head with a mixture of amusement and exasperation. “Yeah, yeah… I’ll try,” she muttered, though her hands lingered gently on Wanda’s back, reluctant to let go entirely.

They stayed like that for a moment, wrapped in each other’s arms, a warmth spreading between them that had nothing to do with heat or pheromones—just trust, understanding, and the first flickers of something new and real.

Wanda tilted her head, resting her cheek against Y/N’s collarbone. “I think… I think I like this,” she murmured softly, eyes half-lidded, a teasing smile playing on her lips.

Y/N chuckled, tightening her hold once more. “Me too,” she admitted, voice low and full of affection. “Me too.”

And in that quiet kitchen, with only the hum of the refrigerator and their steady breaths around them, they found a fragile, hopeful beginning. A chance to explore what they felt without fear, without control, just two people learning to trust that the pull between them could be something beautiful, something worth holding onto.

For the first time, both of them allowed themselves to imagine a future together—one step at a time, with love and hope guiding the way.

---

You were hired as a live-in caretaker. Wanda hadn’t wanted to admit she needed help, but she’d recently been promoted at work, which meant longer hours, and her boys deserved more than a frazzled mother rushing through bedtime stories. Wanda had seen a few other candidates before you—perfectly qualified people with neat resumes and polite smiles—but none of them felt right. Then you walked in.

There was something about you from the start. The way you crouched to greet Billy and Tommy like they were the most important people in the room. The way your laugh filled Wanda’s living room like you’d been there a hundred times before. Your effortless warmth immediately softened Wanda’s day. She liked you instantly. Maybe more than she should have.

By the end of the interview, she was already picturing what it might be like to come home to the sound of her boys’ laughter drifting from the kitchen, knowing you were there with them. It wasn’t just convenience, it was comfort. Something she hadn’t realized she’d been missing.

And when you smiled at her, just before she offered you the job, Wanda felt something she couldn’t quite name. Something dangerous. Attraction adjacent.

The boys helped you carry your suitcase upstairs that first night, chattering the entire way. Billy wanted to show you which light switches controlled which lamps, while Tommy insisted on demonstrating how fast he could run down the hall without knocking anything over (he failed—twice).

Wanda trailed behind, watching the scene unfold with a strange tightness in her chest. They’d taken to you immediately. She should’ve been relieved, and she was, but there was another feeling there too—something sharper. It was the way you listened to every word the twins said, like none of it was silly, like every detail about their lives mattered. She wasn’t used to seeing her boys that open with someone new.

When you finally set your bag down in the spare bedroom, you turned and smiled at her. “Thank you for letting me stay here. I’ll do my best to make things easier for you.”

Your voice was so soft and genuine and Wanda’s heart betrayed her, stuttering in her chest. She smiled at you. “Well, I can say you’ve gotten a pretty good head start. The boys already adore you.”

Billy and Tommy beam as if confirming their mother's words, and Wanda does her best to ignore the tightness that makes itself welcome in her chest.

A few nights later, after the boys were asleep, the house felt unusually quiet. Wanda laid awake in her bed, feeling like she could hear the house physically settling. And after tossing and turning and not sleeping a wink for the better half of an hour, she finally gets up and decides to go make herself some tea.

She's surprised to find you sitting at the breakfast bar when she walks in, a notebook open in front of you. She takes in your soft-looking cardigan and flannel sleep shorts and suddenly feels like she can't get enough air into her lungs. You pick that moment to look up at her, an easy smile on your face.

"Oh hi. Sorry, I couldn't sleep, so I decided to get started planning next week's schedule," you explain. "Figured it might help if I got ahead of the curve. Learned the boys' routine."

That shouldn't have meant so much to Wanda, but it did, and she has to fight a smile as she moves toward the stove to start the kettle. Once the kettle whistles, she prepares tea for both herself and you without even thinking about it. When she sets the prepared mug of tea in front of you, you thank her with a grateful smile and a dimple she hadn’t noticed before.

Her fingers brush yours just for a moment. It's quick and fleeting, but enough for her to feel it. That dangerous pull again. She clears her throat, looking anywhere but at you.

"So, any particular reason you couldn't sleep?" she asks instead.

You smile. "Still getting used to being in a new place, I guess."

Wanda hums in understanding. "That's me when I would have to go away on business. I could afford the nicer hotels, so that wasn’t the issue. It was the lack of familiarity, I guess.”

You glance around the room at the framed photos, your eyes straying to the few scattered toys on the coffee table. "Yeah, but your house doesn't feel unfamiliar, though. It feels...lived in." You bring your gaze back to Wanda's. "Warm," you add.

Wanda looks at you then, really looks, and for a moment, it feels like something inside her cracks. She’d worked so hard to give the boys stability, to make their home feel safe, but hearing someone else say it—hearing you say it—makes her throat tighten.

She exhales slowly. “I wasn’t sure I could do this alone.” The words slip out before she can stop them. Her gaze drops to her hands. “For a long time, I told myself I could. That I didn’t need anyone else. But lately…”

"Lately?" Your voice is gentle when you prompt her, bringing the borrowed mug to your lips for a sip.

Wanda’s eyes flick to yours, uncertain. She sees nothing but patience there, an open invitation to go on.

“Lately it feels like I’m just… running on fumes. I come home, I put on a smile, but—” She breaks off, swallowing hard. “Some days I’m afraid the boys can see right through me.”

You lean forward slightly, elbows resting on the granite countertop. “They don’t, Wanda. I know I've only known them for a short time, but it's obvious how much they adore you. Kids don't fake that."

Her lips part, ready to argue, but your conviction disarms her. She lets out a small, shaky laugh. “You make it sound so simple, y/n."

You shrug. "Well, sometimes it is," you remark softly.

For a moment, silence stretches between the two of you—comfortable, but charged. Wanda realizes she's staring, caught on the curve of your mouth, the softness in your expression. She forces herself to look away, to reach for her mug of tea that’s started to go cold.

A companionable silence falls over the two of you, then as you finish off your tea. (Well, silent aside from Wanda’s erratic heartbeat). And when she’s done, she feels like she can’t stand fast enough. “I should let you get some rest,” she murmurs. “It’s been a long day.”

“Yeah,” you agree, but Wanda doesn’t miss the smidge of disappointment in your eyes. “Goodnight, Wanda. Thank you for the company. And the tea.” You smile at her again, and she finds her stubborn eyes straying back to that dimple.

“Goodnight, y/n,” she replies. Then, she turns and walks out of the kitchen, fighting against every inclination to stay just for one more stolen moment.

—

The late-morning sun spills down the school field. Wanda sits on a checkered blanket under a shady tree, priding herself on finding one of the best spots to sit. She'd taken the day off from work—emails ignored, her work phone silenced—because there were things more important than deadlines. Things like Billy and Tommy’s field day.

They were running somewhere in the distance with their classmates, their laughter carrying faintly across the breeze. Wanda should’ve been watching them, should’ve been scanning the crowd for the next event. Instead, she couldn’t stop herself from glancing at you.

You sat right beside her, legs stretched out over the blanket, hair catching the light like it had been made for days like this. You weren’t in your usual cardigan and jeans. Today, you’d chosen something lighter, softer: a flowy blouse tucked loosely into shorts that bared more skin than Wanda was used to seeing on you.

Her gaze betrayed her, slipping down to your thighs where sunlight kissed the plush skin. Her throat tightens. She tries to look away, to anchor herself to the soccer goals at the far end of the field, but it was no use. Every time her eyes strayed back, the same warmth pooled in her belly.

You lean back on your palms, tipping your head toward her with that easy smile she’d come to crave. “They look like they’re having the time of their lives out there,” you say, nodding toward the twins.

Wanda swallows, dragging her gaze back up to your face where it belongs. “They are,” she manages, though her voice feels thinner than it should. “They’ve been talking about their upcoming field day for weeks. You should’ve seen the way they were parading around the house when they first got their team shirts.”

You laugh softly. “Speaking of, I promised Tommy I’d run the three-legged race with him. Hope you don’t mind losing to us.”

Wanda arches a brow, grateful for the banter to ground her. “Is that so? I’ll have you know, Billy and I make an excellent team.”

“Mm, I’ll believe it when I see it,” you tease, nudging her knee with yours before you lean forward again to wave at the twins across the field. The brief touch lingers, burning through the fabric of Wanda's jeans. She inhales sharply. Get it together, she thinks to herself.

Luckily, Wanda doesn't have to worry about her conflicting feelings for much longer. She's relieved when one of the gym teachers blows their whistle, signaling the start of the parent-child events. The twins rush over to the two of you, with Tommy making a beeline for you and grabbing your hand. You laugh, letting him tug you toward the starting line. Billy stays behind with Wanda.

"We're gonna be the real winners, right, Mom?" he asks sweetly.

Wanda smiles down at him, her chest warming at his certainty. "Of course we are."

The four of you lined up together, ankles tied with bright red fabric. You crouch beside Tommy, adjusting the knot so it won’t pull too tight, your hand resting lightly on his shoulder. Wanda watches the small, natural gestures—your patience, your gentle encouragement—and her stomach twists. She wants to look away, but she can’t.

The whistle blows again, and everyone lurches forward. Tommy takes off like a rocket, nearly toppling you both, but your good-natured laugh carries across the field.

Beside you, Wanda and Billy find a rhythm quickly, her hand braced firmly at her son’s back as they stumble in unison. Wanda's focus is mainly on him, and keeping their steps aligned, but her gaze will occasionally slide sideways, drifting to you and Tommy, watching the way you throw your head back in laughter; your hair sticking to your forehead, cheeks flushed pink from the sun.

By some miracle, Wanda and Billy cross the finish line a beat before you and Tommy. Billy throws his hands in the air in triumph, and Wanda scoops him up into a celebratory hug.

You and Tommy collapse into the grass just behind them, both laughing too hard to care about second place. Wanda’s smile softens when she looks at you sprawled there in the sunlight, breathless and radiant. And she suddenly thinks about how it might feel to fall onto the ground beside you, lean down, and capture your lips in a sweet kiss.

Later, when all the races are over and the boys are busy trading snacks with their friends, you flop back onto the picnic blanket beside Wanda. Your blouse flutters in the breeze, your legs stretched out carelessly, and Wanda has to dig her fingers into the blanket to keep from staring.

“You were good,” you say lightly, turning your head toward her. “Almost like you’ve done this before.”

Wanda lets out a quiet laugh. “Parenthood is basically one long three-legged race.”

You grin, eyes sparkling, and the warmth of it nearly unravels her. Wanda looks away quickly, focusing on the twins in the distance. But her hand brushes yours where it rests on the blanket, and the tiny spark that leaps between your skin is impossible to ignore.

That afternoon back at the townhouse, Billy and Tommy have retreated to their bedrooms for much-needed naps, both happily exhausted from the day's chaos.

You and Wanda linger in the living room, the sunlight fading to gold as it streams through the windows. On the coffee table sat an open bottle of sparkling wine, two glasses already poured. You sink onto the couch beside Wanda, legs occasionally brushing hers, and let out a contented sigh. “They really wore themselves out, huh?”

Wanda leans back, swirling her glass thoughtfully. “You have no idea. I didn’t think they could run that fast.” She then smiles faintly, glancing at you.

“Or maybe it’s just that you kept them laughing the whole time. I love how happy they get when they get to spend time with you,” you say.

Heat flares in Wanda's cheeks at the praise. She tries to look down at her glass, pretending to focus on the bubbles rising in the wine, but her gaze keeps drifting. The sunlight in your hair and in your eyes, the soft line of your shoulders beneath that flowy blouse… every little detail makes her stomach twist in ways she isn't ready to admit.

“You handled the three-legged race really well,” she says, almost absentmindedly, though the undertone of her voice made it impossible to miss.

You laugh softly, a little breathless. “I had a good partner. Tommy made it a bit… challenging, though.”

Wanda’s eyes flick toward yours, and she catches the teasing edge in your expression. “You mean he almost made you eat shit?” she jokes.

You laugh. “Yeah, a couple times, I thought I was going to fall on my face. That boy is fast.”

Wanda laughs at that, shifting slightly as if moving closer would be too bold, but too far would be unbearable.

For a few minutes, you sit there in companionable silence, glasses of wine resting between you on the coffee table. Wanda lets herself relax into it—the quiet, the domestic normalcy, the way your presence makes the house feel alive in a way it hadn’t before.

And yet, every time your legs brush hers, or your fingers reach for the bottle to top off your glass, she feels a spark ignite low in her stomach. And she was starting to think she didn’t want to ignore it.

Once, you catch her looking and give her a small smile. She takes a careful sip of wine to buy herself a moment, but it does nothing to cool the heat building inside her.

"Do you like oldies music, y/n?" Wanda asks suddenly.

You look at her, surprised for a moment, before smiling. "You mean like soul? Yeah, I love it."

A woman after my own heart, Wanda thinks to herself. Her smile deepens, a flicker of something unreadable in her eyes, before she sets her wineglass down carefully on the coffee table. Without another word, she stands from the couch.

You watch her as she wanders over to a record player tucked in the corner, her hands brushing along the spines of her vinyl collection.

“Ah, here it is,” she murmurs, pulling out a worn record. She slides the vinyl onto the turntable, the soft click of it settling into place. As the needle touches the groove, the warm crackle of the record fills the room. The first notes of a soulful melody drift across the living room, curling around the two of you. Wanda turns, green eyes meeting yours, and gestures toward the open space in front of the couch.

"Dance with me?" she asks quietly.

You blink, caught off guard by the request, but Wanda's smile is patient and inviting. Slowly, you set your glass down too, standing to meet her. The moment your fingers brush hers, a familiar spark hums low in your stomach, and you let yourself be drawn in.

She guides you into the center of the living room, the song winding around you like a secret. Wanda’s hands find your waist naturally, warm against your skin. You rest your hands lightly on her shoulders, feeling the faint pull of her body against yours.

It's just a simple dance. But the air between you feels electric, charged with weeks of quiet glances, small touches, and maybe even an unspoken attraction you hadn't dared to name.

Wanda’s head tilts slightly as she watches you, her eyes softening. “You’re really good at this, you know,” she murmurs, her voice almost drowned out by the music but heavy with meaning.

You laugh softly, heart hammering. “You make it easy.”

Wanda’s eyes search yours, and she can feel it—the warmth, the hum, the ticklish pull in her stomach that has nothing to do with the sun or the wine.

Without warning, she spins you gently, letting your hands lift instinctively to her shoulders. You laugh softly, a high, delighted sound that made her chest flutter. She dips you, careful but playful, and your giggle rings through the room, mingling with the soft hum of the record.

When she brings you back to standing, her hands linger on your waist longer than necessary, and she feels her restraint slipping. She can see the light flush on your cheeks, the way your hair frames your face.

She couldn’t help herself. The pull inside her blooms, hot and magnetic, and she closes the distance between you, letting her mouth meet yours softly at first.

You gasp into the kiss, a startled sound that melted instantly into something sweeter as her lips move with tentative confidence, testing the water before deepening ever so slightly. Her hands cup your face, thumbs brushing your cheeks, as if she needed to anchor herself to the reality of you.

You press back instinctively, letting yourself be guided. The room seems to shrink around the two of you, leaving only the sound of your breaths and the vinyl crackle of old soul music.

It's a moment before the immersion breaks, and when it does, it's with one of the twins calling out from their bedroom. "Mom?"

Wanda pulls back from you, her head snapping toward the sound. Her hands slip from around you like you'd burned her, her eyes wide and her breath catching.

“I… sorry…” she murmurs, stepping back, running a hand through her hair. She can't meet your gaze anymore, not after that kiss.

Your heart pounds in your chest, your lips still tingling. “Wanda…” you start.

"I should go see what they need," Wanda says, already stepping toward the hallway, somehow both desperate for space and hating the distance simultaneously.

Wanda barely looks at you as she turns and hurries down the hall toward the boys’ rooms. You were left alone with the echo of what just happened—Wanda’s lips, the warmth of her hands, and the sudden dizzying realization that everything just shifted.

—

It hurt.

The way you could practically see Wanda's wall go up in the aftermath of the kiss was unbearable. She was always respectful, of course—never cruel, never dismissive—but a lot of the warmth that had drawn you in over the past few weeks was absent now. Her eyes rarely met yours, and when she did, her expression was so clearly guarded.

After kissing her boys goodbye, she was out the door before you could even say a word to her. No wave, no parting smile, no whispered “see you later.” Just the click of the front door and the faint scent of her perfume lingering in the air.

At first, you felt sad. Confused. Maybe even a little embarrassed, wondering if you’d misread the moment, if your own pulse had tricked you into imagining more than there was.

But then the anger seeped in.

Annoyance. Irritation. Why were you the one being shut out? She was the one who had kissed you. She had leaned in, pressed her mouth to yours, sent that spark through your chest—and now she was acting as if it had been nothing, as if the boundaries had been your disruption and not hers.

It wasn’t fair.

Your hands curl into fists at your sides, and you can feel your jaw tighten. The quiet townhouse suddenly seems too small, too still, too foreign for just a lowly nanny like yourself. You let out a long, shaky breath, trying to convince yourself it didn’t matter, that it had just been a fleeting moment. But deep down, you knew it wasn’t fleeting—not for either of you. And that knowledge burned.

You did your best to stay present with the twins, focusing on getting them ready for school, tying their shoes, reminding them to brush their teeth, and trying to keep up with whatever new cartoon saga they were rambling about. You smiled, nodded, asked questions that didn’t make sense, and generally faked enough knowledge to pass as an attentive caregiver.

Since the twins went with their dad on Friday afternoons, that left your afternoon open. But the silence didn't bring peace. It gave your mind too much space to dwell on how weird things had become between you and Wanda.

Around six o’clock, the sound of the front door opening brought Wanda into the townhouse, moving with a light spring in her step. You look up, and—surprise—she actually acknowledges you directly.

“I got it, y/n. I got the account!” she chirps, eyes bright, excitement spilling over her features.

The sheer joy in her expression tugs at your chest in a way you weren’t prepared for. Normally, it would have made you smile, maybe even cheer with her. But the tension of the day, the sting from the stolen kiss, followed by the sudden distance, was still fresh.

So you give her a flat, disinterested shrug. “Cool. That’s… wonderful,” you say, voice even, words clipped.

Wanda's smile falters for a fraction, just long enough for a shadow of disappointment to flicker in her eyes. You catch it, but instead of softening, your annoyance only sharpens.

Wanda clears her throat, trying to recover the lightness of her earlier cheer, but the energy has shifted. And you? You weren’t ready to let go of your frustration just yet.

“Did…did everything go okay getting the boys ready for school this morning?” Wanda asks, clearly not ready to stop trying to make conversation.

"Yeah," you reply, not meeting her eyes. "It was a breeze. It always is."

You fiddle with your hands, twisting a ring, tugging at the hem of your sleeve—anything to convince yourself that Wanda's proximity doesn't make your pulse race.

You hear her sigh. "Y/n...I don't want things to be weird between us,"

You scoff lightly, a bitter little sound that barely disguises your own frustration. "Yeah. I can tell," you mutter.

Wanda’s brows furrow, a crease forming between them as she searches your face. “What does that mean?” she asks.

You lift your gaze finally, meeting hers, letting the annoyance and mild hurt show in your eyes. "It means," you say, "that you're the one who kissed me, Wanda. And now you're acting like...like none of that happened. And I'm the one who's supposed to be okay with this useless small talk? I'm just supposed to pretend everything's normal?"

Wanda's mouth opens slightly, as if she wants to reply, but no words come out at first. She takes a careful step closer, her expression softening with something between guilt and longing.

“I…I didn’t mean to make you feel shut out,” she admits, her voice small, almost vulnerable. “I just…I wasn’t expecting that, and I didn’t know how to… handle it. I needed to think."

You let the words sink in, tension rolling through you like a storm that wouldn’t break. Part of you wants to throw your frustration aside, to close the distance and finally reach for her. Another part of you wants to keep her at arm’s length, make her realize how unfair it feels.

“You kissed me,” you say again, softer this time, but no less pointed. “Not the other way around. You… you should’ve known better than to just leave me hanging.”

“My intention wasn’t to leave you hanging,” Wanda says, her voice soft but tense. “I’m just… well, I’m not exactly the best at this.”

“At what?” you press, your tone sharper than you meant. “Kissing your hired help and then making them feel like they did something wrong?”

Her shoulders slump slightly, and she lets out a heavy sigh. “Y/n…don’t be like that,” she murmurs.

“I don’t know any other way to be, Wanda. You hurt my feelings," you say, the words spilling out before you could stop them. Your own words reverberate in your mind immediately afterward. You hurt my feelings. You hadn't anticipated being that honest, but now the words were out in the open.

Wanda's eyes soften. She takes a tentative step closer. "Y/n..." she begins, her voice catching. "I didn't mean to. I...I just wanted to...I—”

“It’s okay,” you rush to say, words tumbling out before you can stop them. “We don’t have to make this a big thing. It’s fine if we just—”

But Wanda cuts you off, shaking her head sharply. Her eyes were wide, her expression fierce. She reaches out, her fingers curling around your wrist, warm and insistent.

“It’s not fine,” she says, and the words hit harder than you expected.

Before you could process it, before you had a chance to think or protest, she tugs you closer, pressing her mouth to yours. The kiss is soft at first, exploratory, and then deeper as if she can’t get enough.

Your breath catches in your throat, a startled gasp escaping as her lips move against yours. Wanda lets go of your wrist only to wrap an arm around your waist, pulling you flush against her to get you closer.

Her body molds to yours, every inch of her pressing insistently. You respond instinctively, hands lifting to her shoulders, then threading through her hair, matching the kiss with equal intensity.

Everything else that's not the two of you seems to cease to exist. All that's there is Wanda; her mouth, her heat, the release of days of unspoken longing.

When Wanda finally pulls back just enough for breath, her forehead rests against yours, eyes half-lidded and searching yours like she's trying to memorize you. “I couldn’t…not,” she murmured, voice thick. “Not after… after that moment. Not after everything.”

Your own chest heaves, pulse hammering, lips tingling from hers. “I… I thought you didn’t feel the same,” you admit, voice barely above a whisper.

Her hands cup your face, thumbs brushing your cheeks softly. “I do. I’ve felt it for weeks,” she confesses. “I just…didn’t know how to handle it. But I do now.”

She kisses you again, harder this time, succeeding in making your knees weak. Her hands slide down to your hips and before you can even register what's happening, she pivots, pressing you gently but firmly against the nearest wall.

Your back hits the cool surface, and the sudden confinement only amplifies the heat radiating between you. Wanda’s lips never leave yours and your hands linger on her shoulders, then go around her neck, fingers threading through the soft strands of her hair.

Her forehead presses to yours briefly, breaths mingling, before she nips softly at your lower lip, coaxing a gasp from you. “I’ve really wanted this…wanted you,” she murmurs against your mouth.

You could feel the strength in her hands on your hips, the way she holds you in place without ever being harsh, and it makes the ache in your chest twist even tighter. “Wanda…” you breathe, your voice shaky, the word barely a whisper.

She pulls back enough to look at you, her eyes seeming to darken. “Y/n…I…I want you,” she whispers, “But…only if you want me too.”

You meet her eyes, and you know you don't even have to think about your answer. "I do," you breathe. "I want you too, Wanda."

A flicker of relief crosses Wanda's face. And then she leans in, pressing her lips to yours again, slower this time, enough to savor the taste. Her hands cradle your face, thumbs brushing your cheeks.

There was no rush as you followed Wanda up the stairs. Every step felt charged, the tension from the living room lingering like electricity in the air, but it was softened by the unspoken understanding between you.

Once inside her bedroom, Wanda's hands are gentle as she removes your clothing, and with each bare inch of skin, she presses her lips to it softly—your collarbone, the curve of your shoulder, the smooth expanse of your stomach.

Her lips leave trails of warmth that make your breath hitch. She pauses at your jawline, tilting her head as her lips brush your skin, eyes locking on yours with an intensity that leaves you a little unsteady.

“Every bit of you… I want to remember it. I wanna remember how this feels,” she murmurs.

Your hands find their way to her shoulders, then around her neck, fingers threading through her hair, anchoring yourself to her, letting her reverence wash over you. The slow, deliberate way she explores you is intoxicating—part worship, part confession, and entirely magnetic. "Me too," is your soft reply.

The fabric of Wanda's shirt falls away under your hands, her skin warm against your palms. When your fingers fumble with the button of her pants, her breath catches, a shaky laugh spilling from her lips—but there’s nothing mocking in it, only anticipation.

And then, it feels like a shift. You blink, and she’s the one guiding, pressing you gently back onto the bed. Her weight hovers above yours, grounding yet dizzying, her hair falling in soft waves around your face like a curtain.

When her hand slides down, you can’t help the sharp gasp that escapes you. Her fingers find heat, wetness, proof of your want for her, and she stills, searching your face. Her eyes, darkened with desire, hold a flicker of restraint, of care.

“Is this okay?” she whispers, voice so low it feels like it melts straight into your skin.

You nod, throat too tight to form words, and that’s all she needs.

Her fingers sink into you with agonizing slowness, stretching, filling, pulling a low, trembling moan from your lips. Wanda’s breath stutters at the sound, her own composure wavering, but she steadies herself, curling her hand against you in a way that feels like worship.

“God, you’re perfect,” she murmurs against your neck, lips brushing as her hand works in slow, deep motions. Each drag of her fingers leaves you unraveling beneath her, your body arching, clinging to her as though she’s the only thing tethering you to the earth.

“Can I touch you too?” The question slips out shaky, almost shy, against the warmth of her shoulder.

Wanda nods, a low hum of permission vibrating against your skin as she presses her mouth to your neck. “Please,” she breathes, and the sound of it unravels you.

Your hand slides down too, tentative at first, skimming the curve of her hip before slipping between her thighs. She’s already warm, already soaked through, and the realization makes your pulse thunder in your ears.

Wanda exhales sharply, her lips parting against your throat. “Oh, detka…” she murmurs, the petname falling from her like a confession. Her hips shift, rolling subtly into your hand, seeking more.

Her fingers falter inside you for just a moment when your thumb circles her clit, a shiver rippling through her body. But then she recovers, pressing her forehead to yours, and it becomes this frantic, perfect rhythm—the two of you working each other over, gasps and moans mingling between your mouths.

Every time your hand drags against her, Wanda’s grip tightens on you, her movements inside you growing more deliberate, more desperate. She looks at you through heavy-lidded eyes, flushed and wrecked already, and it strikes you how vulnerable she looks—how much she’s giving you in this moment.

“Touch me, don’t stop,” she whispers fiercely, almost as if she’s afraid you might.

Your fingers are trembling, but you don’t stop—neither of you do. The pace builds, frantic and needy, until you’re both teetering on the edge. Wanda’s breath comes ragged against your mouth, her body shaking over yours.

“You feel so good,” she pants, fingers curling deep inside you. “Come with me, please—”

And it happens almost in the same instant—your body clenching around her hand, her thighs spasming under your touch. The room fills with the sound of it: the broken cries, the desperate gasps, the unsteady whimpers that blur together as you both fall apart.

When the peak finally ebbs, you collapse into her, chests heaving, foreheads pressed together. For a moment, you think that’s it—that you’ve both found the same messy, perfect release and can just lie here tangled up.

But Wanda is still moving.

Her lips brush your cheek, then your jaw, then lower, feathering across your neck with a new determination. By the time you register what’s happening, she’s sliding down your body, kissing every inch in worship until she settles between your thighs.

Your breath hitches. “Wanda…”

She glances up, her eyes molten, her mouth already so close to where you’re aching again. “I’m not done with you yet,” she murmurs. Her hands grip your thighs, pulling them wider, and then her mouth is on you—soft and reverent at first, then hungrier, tongue lapping and teasing until you’re writhing.

Sparks of oversensitivity race through you, but Wanda holds you steady, moaning against your cunt like she’s starved for you. Every flick of her tongue makes your body jolt, every suck on your clit leaves you gasping her name.

You grab at the sheets, at her hair, anywhere you can anchor yourself. “I—I can’t—”

“Yes, you can,” Wanda insists, her voice vibrating against you before she dives back in, relentless. “Give me another one, detka. I need to taste you fall apart again.”

Her tongue moves with a slow, deliberate rhythm, and every time your hips try to escape the pressure, Wanda is there—firm hands on your waist, coaxing you back down to her mouth. She hums into you, the vibration sending shivers through your body. That little moan of hers, needy and content at the same time, makes your whole chest tighten. She wants this—wants you—and she’s not holding back.

“God, Wanda,” you whimper, fingers tightening in her hair as she guides you through the steady rocking of your hips against her mouth. She groans at the way you move for her, tongue flicking deep and wet before dragging up to circle your clit again.

Your thighs tremble. You’re a mess of gasps and moans, caught between wanting to push her away from the unbearable pleasure and never wanting her to stop. She keeps you there, her tongue relentless, her hands urging you to give in completely.

“Don’t fight it,” she breathes between strokes, her voice wrecked, before sealing her mouth over you once more.

Wanda slows her pace, like she knows exactly how close you are. Instead of chasing your release too quickly, she lets herself savor you—every sigh, every shiver. Her tongue traces you gently as if she’s memorizing you.

Her hands don’t hold you down anymore. They simply cradle your hips, thumbs stroking soft, reassuring circles into your skin. The grip is loving, steady, but not forceful—an anchor grounding you while she worships you.

You tug weakly at her hair, not to guide but to cling. “Wanda…” you whisper, and she hums against you, the sound impossibly gentle. It’s not about urgency anymore. It’s about devotion.

She takes her time, tongue flicking slowly, languidly, as if there’s nowhere else she’d rather be than here, between your thighs. Every now and then, she presses a kiss against your sensitive skin, mouth tender and warm.

And when you finally fall apart under her tongue, it’s not sharp or frantic—it’s slow, like waves washing over you until you’re trembling in her hold, melting completely into her care.

She stays with you through it, lips pressing soft kisses along your inner thighs, whispering, “So perfect for me…so sweet,” as if she can’t stop herself from adoring you.

Once you've stopped shaking, Wanda kisses her way back up your body until she can lie beside you. By the time she reaches your lips, you’re breathless, still trembling, and she kisses you like she’s sealing something into place.

“Hey,” she whispers against your mouth, brushing your hair back with the gentlest of touches. “You with me?”

You nod, though your body still hums, boneless and warm. She doesn’t press for words. Instead, she eases you onto your side and slips in behind you, spooning you close, her arm wrapping around your waist. She tugs the blanket over both of you, cocooning you in softness.

For a while, she just holds you, her hand stroking absent circles on your stomach. The rhythm is steady, grounding, like she’s coaxing you back to yourself. “I’ve got you,” she murmurs, nuzzling into your hair. “You did so good for me.”

Your chest swells at the words. You tilt your head back slightly to catch her gaze, and what you see in her eyes nearly undoes you all over again—affection, yes, but also awe, like she can’t quite believe you let her have you like this.

“I hurt your feelings before,” Wanda says quietly, a tinge of guilt threading her tone. “I never want to do that again.”

You squeeze the arm she has wrapped around you, gentle reassurance in your touch. “You’re not. Not now.”

Her smile is soft, a little shaky. She presses a kiss to your temple and whispers, "I want to take care of you, y/n. If you'll let me.”

You turn your head enough to nose at her neck. "Only if I get to take care of you too," you reply.

Not that your friend cares.

“Hey, I’m talking to you” Darcy says, throwing a pen to the back of your head.

“Ouch, what the fuck, Lewis?”

“Be thankful it wasn’t poop” she mutters, still bitter about what one of the monkeys did to her as she walked by their enclosure.

“Only you could have beef with a monkey” you say, turning around in your office chair to pick up the pen she threw at you. “And anyway, what do you want?”

“It’s your turn to get lunch”

“Oh. Right. Didn’t realise it was that late”

As you pick up your things to go to the nearby coffee shop, Darcy just stares. Before you leave, she decides it’s better to check up on you.

“You ok, pal?”

“All good. Be right back” you wink at her, leaving the small office.

It’s always a pleasant walk out of the zoo, though it’s usually more crowded. Again, the rain is keeping people away, and the school group that was scheduled to come had to cancel.

This time, you’re mentally checked out.

Yesterday was movie day and Wanda was nowhere to be found. It was embarrassing to admit that you were waiting for her, constantly looking at whoever walked in the room. If anyone asked you what the movie was about, you’d have no fucking clue.

But then again, you had no way of reaching out to her, and more importantly, Wanda had a family and a life.

There was no point in dwelling on it. She was busy, you were nothing but a stranger.

Move on.

“Place’s packed today” you greet Jodie, the cashier at the coffee place you always go to on Fridays.

“Yeah, it usually is with the rain”

“Ah, we have the opposite problem” you smile, handing over your credit card.

“Anything fun for the weekend? Heard there’s a new romcom” she says, even though you already paid and there’s at least five other people in line.

“Yeah, I saw it yesterday” you admit, though you hope she doesn’t ask you what you thought of it because you barely paid attention.

Guy got the girl in the end, that’s all you knew.

Would the girl get the other girl one day?

“No way, were you on a date? Pats, take over for me for a second” Jodie calls over her shoulder. Her coworker glares but Jodie just moves along the counter and you take your cue, following her to clear the path for the next customer.

“No, I was by myself”

“I would have loved to go with you! I love going to the movies” she says, and you finally get it.

She’s hoping you ask her out. Which is weird, because she’d never shown any interest in you. That you noticed, at least.

Not that you’re the best at this.

“Well, I…”

“Jodie!” another one of her coworker snaps, overwhelmed with making lattes and getting pastries out of the oven. He turns to look at you apologetically, knowing you’re not comfortable with the conversation. “Hey, Y/N. Sorry, it’s crazy busy today. Here’s your order”

“Thanks, Roger”

A group of women arrive. They’re the Pilates Squad, who stop by to get coffee right after their class from the studio that’s on the second floor.

Their orders are always so specific it takes at least three employees to get them right. It’s a pain to be behind them on line, but today they look like angels, as it’s the perfect excuse to sprint out of there.

“Why does my coffee cup have a heart drawn in it?” Darcy says as you take your grilled cheese.

“Oh, wow, that’s weird”

“And there’s a napkin with a phone number”

“Huh” you say, refusing to make eye contact. She glares at you and you give up. “Jodie kinda hinted at a movie date. But we’ve been going to that place for a year and she’s never shown any interest!”

“Maybe it was because last time we were there together, and I said you’re the most annoying friend I have”

It wouldn’t be the first time someone thought you were with Darcy. Mainly because she bossed you around and you put up with it, as a true people pleaser.

You scroll through your phone, knowing you still have to look over the grounds and make sure nothing’s flooding and all the animals are safe. Bucky made his rounds this morning but it never hurts to be too safe.

“So, what are you going to do about it?” Darcy says when she finishes lunch, ready to read more lab reports.

“About what?” you say, regretting not getting a brownie for dessert.

“About Jodie”

“Have you considered that we’ll have to find another place to get food if it doesn’t work out?” you joke, but as you turn around, Darcy’s sporting a serious look.

“It’s been two years, Y/N”

“Right” you hum, standing up before she can keep going. Serious Darcy is worse than Bossy Darcy. Because it means she has a point. And you’re not ready to stop running.

Your friend watches as you throw away the cups, containers and the napkin with the girl’s number.

Before she can stop you, you’re out the door, ready to avoid a difficult conversation.

And once you’re with the jiraffes, feeding them and checking up on their youngest member, you breathe a sigh of relief.

Here, no one can judge you, or tell you to move on.

—

Wanda’s fidgeting, feeling silly.

She didn’t do anything wrong. But all week, she’s been feeling this strange weight in her stomach when she thinks about you.

Wanda had to meet with her lawyer and wasn’t able to go to the movies. The one place where she can just sit in the dark and enjoy peace and quiet.

The one place where she gets to see you.

But you’ve met each other a total of two times, the first less than pleasant and it’s just ridiculous that she feels so excited to see you.

So, she got to the movies fifteen minutes earlier than usual, looking around.

Sure enough, you stop by the board to check what’s new. Wanda’s frozen in place, admiring your figure for a moment. Hands in the pockets of your jacket, sneakers that look comfortable but have definitely seen better days.

The outfit’s casual but there’s a certain nervous energy in your demeanor as you look around. You huff, walking inside.

Your eyes meet Wanda’s and it feels like time stops.

“Hey” you say, trying to reign in your excitement.

“Hello”

“You weren’t… I mean, are you ok? I thought you’d be here last week”

“Yes, I had to take care of some things” Wanda says, thinking it’s best to spare the details of her messy divorce to someone she doesn’t know that well.

Though she has a feeling you wouldn’t judge her.

“Well, I’m glad to see you today” you smile. “What movie are you watching?”

“I haven’t decided yet, you?”

“I… uh…” you rub your neck nervously, and then admit the truth, plain and simple. “I was waiting to see if you’d show up. And maybe we could watch the movie together? Anything you want”

“Yes, I’d like that” Wanda nods and you sigh with relief. You hand over a bill and go to get popcorn and soda for the both of you.

“Be right back” you smile, turning one last time, as if you’re afraid she’ll disappear any minute.

Wanda goes for the romcom you barely paid attention last time, but you don’t mind, not when she’s finally here, smiling and commenting about the movie with you.

“You chew so loudly” she says at some point and you snort.

“Excuse me, you’ve asked about each actor like three times. Swearing you’ve seen them on something before”

“Well, yeah, the guy that plays Harry looks familiar!”

“That’s Pedro Pascal, he’s been on everything, darling. Game of Thrones, DC, Star Wars, you name it”

“Wait, Star Wars! That’s it, that show with the baby Yoda” she says, sounding like a true mother.

You laugh, ignoring the way she elbows you.

And you wonder if her kids look anything like her.

“What would you do if you were her?” Wanda says, when it gets to a point where the protagonist has to chose.

“Maybe she’s better off alone” you say, though it’s a lie.

You’ve spent two years sulking and stuck in the past, and you’re not doing any better.

But Wanda doesn’t need to know that.

“I think… money isn’t everything. But the other guy hasn’t grown either. I think it should be a balance between stability and romance” she says, fidgeting with her bracelet.

You resist the urge to reach for her hand, and instead shove a bunch of popcorn in your mouth.

“Do you at least eat anything healthier outside of the movies?” Wanda teases, and you nod.

“I’m really trying to eat less meat. And drink more water. But we all have a guilty pleasure, don’t we?” you turn to look at her, and Wanda smiles.

She’s so beautiful it almost hurts.

For the rest of the movie, you think about calling Jodie. Darcy saved her number on your phone without even asking (you really have to change your password).

And it’s not because you want to go out with her, but your first crush ever since you swore off of dating cannot be with a married woman that has what sounds like a perfect family.

But then, the movie ends, and you’re actually surprised Wanda stayed until the credits roll.

When you walk out, she turns to thank you for the movie, and covers her mouth with her hand at the sight of your t-shirt littered with popcorn.

“Aw, crap” you say, blushing.

Wanda has to stop herself from admiting that’s kinda cute.

“Give me your phone”

“What?” you stop cleaning your shirt, looking at her with a frown.

“I… can give you my number. In case we can watch another movie next week?” she says, suddenly shy. But you’re already nodding, handing over the device.

Wanda only gets a second to look at your wallpaper, intrigued at the picture of you holding a small lion cub.

But she doesn’t have time to ask, as her phone rings.

“Class is over” she says, and you nod. “See you next week”

“I hope so, yeah. Take care” you nod, seeing as she walks to the parking lot, back to her life.

And it’s strange, how you wish she could stay a little longer. 

—

A simple text makes you smile.

Wanda: Vetoed.

Y/N: But why?

Wanda: I have kids, animated films are all I see. Pick something else.

Comments like these would only spark your curiosity further. You wanted to know everything about her. How many children, what ages, what did she do for a living.

You could skip the details about the husband, though.

But still, your texts had been limited to some interactions about films. You really didn’t know how to make casual conversation without sounding too eager. But it was Tuesday and you finally had an excuse to talk, checking to know what tickets to get for the day after tomorow.

“Why are you smiling at your phone?”

Crap.

“Did you finally text Jodie?” Darcy says, wiggling her eyebrows.

You sigh, putting the phone away.

“No, I decided I like their grilled cheese a little too much to risk it. So I was thinking next Friday it’s your turn to go pick up the food and tell her I’m not over my ex. Nothing too specific”

“Well, that’s not a lie” Darcy mutters and you turn back to look at her. She clearly regrets it. “Look, I’m sorry but… you can’t just spend the rest of your life feeding baby animals and giving children a tour of the zoo. I worry about you”

“Don’t. I’m fine” you say, leaving her to feed the rest of the lemurs.

Lowkey, you hope they throw poop at her too.

You’re on the way back to the office when Bucky’s voice over radio pulls you out of your thoughts.

“Doc, come take a look at Syd. She has a mass in her neck”

“On my way, Buck” you answer. Never a dull moment when you’re working here.

As you get to Syd’s place, you kneel next to Bucky.

“See that over there? Below her ear”

“Mhm” you nod, looking over at the schedule. “Let’s do lab work and examine her tomorrow. After the rattlesnake ultrasound. I think we’ll have to remove it but can’t hurt to check her liver before anesthesia”

“Got it” he nods, writing it down. “You ok?”

“Yeah. Don’t I look it?”

“You seemed a little sad. That’s all. Plus Darcy asked about you right now”

“Mmm. She just wants me to date. I don’t know why. I’m fine as it is, honestly” you say.

“I’m not the best person to give advice on that” he admits. Besides work and baseball, Bucky keeps to himself most of the time.

“Well, some animals are loners, others travel in a pack. It’s just in our nature, I guess” you pat his shoulder. “Darcy just worries”

“Should she?” he asks as you leave, but you don’t answer.

Honestly? You don’t know.

—

Y/N: Ok, whatever you want, princess.

Wanda bites her lip at the message. You were probably rolling your eyes as you texted, and it was meant to be a jab.

But part of her feels giddy at the term.

She likes to see your name on her screen a little too much.

“Why the big smile? Did the lawyer tell you Jarvis is leaving you everything?” Laura jokes, and Wanda sighs.

“God, I wish. I don’t understand why he’s making this so hard”

“I think you do” Laura says, sitting at her desk and smiling sadly at her friend. It sucks to see Wanda like this.

For years, she had to deal with an absent husband and father to her twins. Barely home under the excuse of work, and when he was actually there he’d be taking calls nonstop or thinking about work.

And now, when she finally had enough, he had the nerve to pretend Wanda was the one destroying their family.

“Anyway, why were you smiling at your phone?”

Well, shit. She can’t really say she’s talking to a stranger she met at the movies and has only seen three times.

A stranger she knows virtually nothing about. Except for your name, kind eyes and easy smile.

And those arms.

“Just… my mom making some plans for the weekend” she lies.

“Good thing they’re coming to visit. When do they get here?”

“Day after tomorrow, around noon”

“Any fun plans?”

“Yes, can’t wait for Thursday actually” she admits, though it has more to do with you.

But no one needs to know that.

—

6:15

The movie hasn’t started yet, but Wanda was supposed to be here a little before 6. Hell, you even managed to leave work early to shower and change into something other than a t-shirt, jeans and sneakers.

Now you feel ridiculous. Who wears a button-up shirt to the movies?

You’re about to lose it when you hear Wanda calling for you, out of breath. She’s in such a hurry, she misses the sign an employee just placed in the most inconvenient of places to warn about the wet floor.

“Crap” she says, sliding and you catch her before she falls.

“Careful, are you ok?”

“Yeah, I’m ok. I got so scared” she laughs, still out of breath.

Fuck, you’re so close to her, and your eyes can’t help but go down to her lips. Wanda’s aware that your hands are on her hips and she looks away, trying to get a grip.

“Uh… thanks for… and sorry for being late”

“You’re right on time. Want popcorn?” you say but she shakes her head no. So, you lead her to the room, and she gives you a funny look, wondering why you didn’t get anything for yourself.

Truth is, this is a nice shirt. One of the only nice ones you have and you’ll kick yourself if you get butter stains all over it.

Plus, you’re not over the embarrassment from last time.

“You know, this movie is two hours long” you comment as you take your seats.

“I know”

“Well, you usually leave at 7:10. 7:20 if you really like the movie. So, I’m just wondering if I’ll have to tell you how it ends”

“I’ll see for myself. Plus, I can’t trust that you won’t just make something up”

At her comment, you let out a small laugh, because that’s exactly what you wanted to do.

Still, the movie starts and you fidget around, not used to being empty handed. Just now, you realise how much the popcorn helped to deal with the nervousness of being close to Wanda.

“Stop it, you’re distracting me” Wanda’s hand goes to your arm, making you stay still.

It almost feels like you’re heart will beat out of your chest when her hand remains there, and then she’s leaning on the armrest, your hands inches apart.

God, what are you? Twelve?

This isn’t even a date. You’re only attracted to her because you can’t have her. So, there’s nothing to lose at all.

But then, she’s laughing at something that’s happenig in the film. And the sound is so cute you know you like her because she’s actually nice.

The fact she’s completely unavailable is just the universe making fun of you once again.

To your surprise, Wanda does stay for the entire movie, and you leave in silence.

“Did you…?”

“Are…?”

You both speak at the same time, and Wanda pushes through before she loses her nerve.

“Want to get something to eat?”

“Yeah, I’d love to” you nod. “Anywhere you want. My treat”

“You already paid for the tickets” she says, blushing at your willingness to pay for anything she wants.

“Well, for the first time since I met you, you’re not running around between watching parts of a movie and picking up your children so it calls for celebration”

Luckily, you know a small Italian place that’s very casual, right around the corner from the cinema.

“My parents came by to visit and they’re taking care of the twins” Wanda explains as you look at the menu. You perk up at that.

“Twins?”

“Yes. Oh, I guess we never really talk about this! Billy and Tommy. They’re my boys” she says, and you immediately adore the way her whole face lights up at the mention of her children.

“Cute. Like hummingbirds. I mean, humminbirds always hatch two eggs at a time” you explain when Wanda gives you a confused look.

“What do you do for a living? Because I’ve tried to figure it out so far and nothing”

“Guess”

“I’m terrible at guessing”

“Then you can ask me three questions and then you have to guess” you propose, forgetting about the food you’re supposed to order.

Wanda smiles, biting her lip as she considers what to ask first.

You think she’s the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen.

“Do you have to explain things to people? Like, teaching”

“Sometimes” you nod your head, thinking about the school field trips that you get from time to time.

“Is it related to science?”

“Yes” you nod, wondering what the third question will be. So far, she’s been on the right track.

“Do you interact with a lot of kids?”

“Not always. They’re around, but I don’t necessarily interact with them as part of my job” you consider if it’s a fair answer.

But Wanda seems to think it is, because she smiles triumphantly.

“You are a Biology teacher”

“Wow, that’s… not even close” you say, laughig when her face drops. “It’s ok, don’t feel bad. It’s a tough one”

“Then just tell me, what are you?” Wanda kicks you lightly under the table, and the contact makes you forget your own name.

What am I? An idiot.

“I’m a veterinarian that focuses on wild animals. So, the official title is Director of Animal Health at the Westview Zoo” you say. But Wanda stays silent. “What?”

“Wait, are you serious? Because that’s such a cool job. If I were you I’d be bragging about it all the time”

“Well, now that you told me you think I’m cool, I’ll become insufferable, Wanda”

“I take it back, please” she says and you shake your head, laughing.

Eventually, the waiter comes and you order, learning more about her. She’s a general manager at a small marketing company, a job that she’s had since the twins were old enough to go to school.

Wanda has a twin brother, which is fascinating on its own. Apparently they’re exact opposites but still, she misses him as he constantly travels around the world.

The topic of the husband is avoided and you’re grateful. Listening about a man who doesn’t deserve her will probably ruin your mood.

But it comes up on its own and it surprises you.

You’re in the middle of discussing sitcoms when she gets a message. In a matter of seconds, her smile disappears and is replaced with a frown.

“Excuse me” is all she says, not waiting for you to reply as she bolts to the door of the restaurant. You can see her arguing over the phone, and she is super pissed. By the time she ends the call, you’re expecting her to ask for the check and leave in a hurry.

Instead, she settles, downs the last of her white wine and asks for another glass.

“Oh, hey… everything ok?”

“No, not really” she huffs. You have a feeling there’s more coming, and of course, she begins to rant a second later. “It’s just… I don’t care if he breaks promises to me anymore, you know? It’s fine, I’m a grown woman. But to leave his kids like that? He promised he’d be there tomorrow. He’s a coward and a liar and probably scared shitless about seeing my dad”

“Right, of course. Just so I know where to direct my anger… we’re talking about your husband?”

“Ex-husband. Soon, hopefully. The divorce has been a nightmare” she sighs, running a hand through her hair. “I’m sorry, you don’t want to hear this”

“No, it’s ok. I know a thing or two about divorce. But I gather it’s more complicated when there are kids involved” you sigh, feeling bad at seeing Wanda so upset. She wants to ask what do you mean by knowing a thing or two about divorce. But then you ask her something else. “What was he supposed to help with, anyway?”

“Career day. It’s tomorrow. Now I gotta call the teacher and tell her we can’t make it. While other parents are there, Billy and Tommy… they were so excited”

“I’ll do it”

“What?”

What the fuck?

“I mean, it’s not a parent-teacher conference, right? Anyone with a career can do it”

“I wouldn’t want to… I mean, I’m sure you have work to do”

“I can… manage to escape for an hour or two. And I think bringing someone from the zoo of all places will make you parent of the year” you tease, knowing kids go crazy when there’s animals involved.

“Are you sure, Y/N?”

Not at all.

“Positive”

“Well, in that case, let’s order dessert and dinner’s on me” Wanda says, reaching for your hand.

“That’s not…”

“I insist, Y/N. Please” she says, squeezing your hand and you can’t say no to her. Not when she’s looking at you like that.

“Well, alright then”

“Uh, yes,” you looked away from her. “Thank you. You didn’t have to.”

“Of course,” you heard her footsteps walk the short distance to your desk. It seemed impossible, but you kept your eyes trained on your computer. “Do you know why I bring you coffee?” You shook your head. “So I can see your beautiful smile.” An embarrassing squeak left the back of your throat before you could top it.

“Belova,” thankfully, Pepper appeared out of her office. “Are you distracting my employee?” The blonde looked at the CEO with a smile.

“My presence is never a distraction,” she sent you a wink. “But I will take my leave. I will see you later, beautiful,” she waved at you as she walked away. You were stunned into silence, feeling your body heat up from the compliment.

“Unbelievable,” Pepper chuckled. She walked over to your desk. “I can ban her from coming over here.” You shook your head.

“No, no, it’s fine,” you said. “She’s not that bad.” Pepper looked you over, scanning you for any lies, and nodded.

“If that changes, let me know. I sent you some data that needs to be analyzed before my meeting.”

“Of course! Right on it.” This was what you were good at - organizing and analyzing data, taking notes for Pepper in meetings, and prioritizing her attention. You had been working with the CEO as her assistant for two years. With all the time spent together, you forged a relationship with her more than a boss and an employer. She looked out for you, especially when it came to you being so shy and soft spoken. You mostly faded to the background. In a room full of superheroes, you were obsolete. Yet somehow you captured the attention of a Black Widow.

You, a plain girl from the Midwest, applied to this position to escape her small town. You barely had said two words to the other members of the team. Somehow, Yelena saw you, and that scared you. She made your heart flutter, stomach twist into knots, and smile so big. But why you?

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

At the end of the workday, Yelena was waiting for you. It wasn’t uncommon for her to be here after your shift, but it was rare. Her hands were behind her back, and you eyed her suspiciously. “What?”

“Are you free tonight?” Hours spent talking to her in the morning, you began to pick up on her mannerisms. The always confident Black Widow was now nervous. There was a slight difference in her voice, a hitch that wasn’t usually there.

“Depends,” you answered slowly. “What do you want?” She took a few steps to close the distance and pulled her hand from behind her back. A single red tulip was behind her fingers.

“Let me take you out to dinner,” she said. “Tonight.”

“Oh,” you squeaked. You took the flower from her and looked in her eyes. Her green eyes were like leaves with golden sunlight shining through them. Some days, you found it impossible to hear what she was saying because you were distracted by the colors. “Why?” Her smile faltered, and she narrowed her eyes at you.

“I am sorry,” she said. “I do not understand what you asked.” You huffed and looked at your office window.

“Why me?” You asked again. “I am a nobody, just a random assistant.” For the first time, you saw a dark shadow cross her face, and it startled you. As quickly as it came, it disappeared.

“You are someone,” she whispered. “To me, at least, and I wish I could hurt whoever made you believe that.” You chuckled softly and bit your lip. You believed her. She was asking you out because she wanted to, not out of pity or a joke.

“Okay,” you sighed. “I’ll go to dinner with you.” Her face lit up like a Christmas tree, and you hated how cute it was.

“Perfect. I will pick you up at 6:30, okay?” You nodded. “See you tonight, beautiful.” Finally, you were left alone. What a whirlwind. Now you had to get ready for a date.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

Your doorbell rang at 6:25. Leave it to Yelena to arrive early. You pressed your hands down your dress to smooth out the wrinkles and opened the door. There stood the blonde in a dark green two-piece pant suit. The top had a V-neck with her arms bare. It was truly unfair how good-looking she was in anything she wore. “You are staring, sweetheart.” You felt your body heat up.

“Sorry,” you mumbled. Behind her back, she brought out a bouquet.

“For you,” she smiled. “Beautiful flowers for a beautiful girl.” You were never going to get used to the compliments that flowed so easily off her tongue.

“Thank you,” you said as you took the flowers from her. “Please come in. I’ll quickly put these in water.” You stepped out of the way for Yelena to enter. Quickly, you made a beeline for the kitchen. You tried to keep your hands busy while Yelena looked around your space. As soon as you got home, you cleaned just in case she would come inside.

“Your home,” you looked at her as you placed the flowers in the center of the island. “It is warm.”

“Oh.” You weren’t expecting that word to describe the place you lived in. When you first moved to the city, you wanted your home to feel safe and lived in. Unlike your old house, where it felt cold. “Thank you.” You hated how your voice shook at the end. But Yelena only smiled at you. “I’m uh ready,” you grabbed your purse from the hook. You triple-checked that it had everything you needed - a cheap stick, wallet, keys, and phone.

“Let’s go.” When your door locked behind you, Yelena grabbed your hand. The feeling was different but not unwelcome. “Is this okay?” She questioned.

“Yeah,” you smiled. It was okay. Butterflies circled in your stomach, and your heart fluttered, but you liked the feeling of her hand in yours.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

Yelena walked back to your door. “I had a really good time.” You said once your door was unlocked. Yelena booked a reservation at a small Italian restaurant. It was quiet, warm, and filled your belly with good food. Time was spent listening to Yelena talk about her time as an Avenger. She caught on early that you weren’t one to talk about your family, but you were happy to listen to her.

Her voice had a way of soothing your anxiety, which was rare. Usually, being the center of attention made your skin crawl. With Yelena, you graved it - wanted it more and more. “So did I. Thank you for saying yes.”

“Thank you for asking.” Now you weren’t sure what to do next. Should you invite her inside? When do you say goodbye? Was she expecting more from you? This was why you never went on dates.

“Well, I will see you tomorrow. Same time as always.” She winked before turning to leave down the stairs.

The only person you told that you were moving to New York right after school was your younger sister. She was the closest thing you had to a best friend. Her only advice was to ‘be brave.’ “Yelena,” she stopped and looked over her shoulder. She waited - patience as ever - for you to gather your bearings. Without thinking, you walked over to her. Her green eyes tracked you the entire time. Standing before her, your sister’s words danced in your head.

Be brave. Be brave. Be brave. Smiling, you kissed her cheek softly. “See you tomorrow.” Her eyes went wide as a blush covered her cheeks. The color looked good on her. Her fingers touched the spot that your lips touched.

“Yeah,” she cleared her throat. “See you tomorrow.” You smiled as she descended the stairs.

The following morning, there was a coffee and a muffin at your desk.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

Date nights became more common. It was becoming more common to spend nights by yourself than with the blonde. Movie nights, walks in the park, dinners at small family restaurants, and every morning there was a coffee and breakfast on your desk. She treated you like a princess, and it was the happiest you’ve been.

Because of this thing with Yelena, you found yourself around the Avengers more. They were loud, energetic, but welcoming. They respected the fact that you were quiet and liked to stand on the outside of the party. It was why you became close with Bucky. Both you and the super soldier could exist in silence. Still, there were moments you wondered why she picked you. You continued to compare yourself to the heroes around you. But she saw you. No matter who else was in the room, her eyes were on you.

At this point, the voice on the phone was going on and on. It was an important meeting with potential partners, but the man was more interested in hearing himself speak than Pepper. You were there to take notes and send documents to Pepper to support her claims because these men never believed her. You had to give it to her. Pepper was holding her own and not getting frustrated.

You looked up at the sound of footsteps. Even seeing the blonde made you smile, but you held up your finger and pointed to the phone. Yelena understood and sat in the empty chair next to you. Her head rested on your fingers, and you ran your fingers through the loose strands of hair. Yelena smiled and wiggled happily in her chair. The action made you smile, and you focused back on the call.

Finally, it was done. You said your farewells and hung up. “Gods,” you mumbled and rubbed your temples. “I hate white men.” Yelena chuckled. Her breath on your skin tickled. But she moved her head and used her hands to dig into the knots on your shoulders. You melted. The tension left your body. “You have magically hands.”

“They can be magically elsewhere,” you heard the smirk in her voice. “But we have to keep it PG or Pepper will have my head.” Her suggestion was not lost on you. You pushed her away as embarrassment crept up your neck.

“I don’t like you,” you mumbled and rolled further away from her.

“Baby.” You kept your eyes on your screen. “Beautiful.” Yelena’s hands were on your sides. “Sweetheart.” You huffed and looked at her. “Hi.” She smiled. Rolling your eyes, you couldn’t help but smile.

“What do you want, Lena?” You asked. “Shouldn’t you be at training?”

“I finished early, so I can come see you,” you raised an eyebrow at her. “And to ask you something.” There it was. “Kate is planning a night out with some of the younger members. They want you to come.” Oh. You weren’t expecting that, especially since clubs and bars weren’t really your scene.

“Do you want me to come?” You questioned.

“I always want you.” You huffed and rolled your eyes. Sometimes you felt small underneath her gaze. “But I understand if you do not want to. I could go for one drink and come see you after.” You frowned. As much as going out filled you with anxiety, it was something the team did regularly. You’ve listened to many stories from Pepper about how she had to save them from their drunken shenanigans. Now that you were dating Yelena, you were part of the traditions. Sighing, you bite your lip.

“I’ll go.”

“Oh. OH!” It was funny to watch Yelena try to school her features, but her excitement was pulsing off of her. “Amazing. We can ride to the bar together,” she stood up and kissed your cheek. “I will go tell Kate. See you later?” She questioned. You nodded.

“Bye, Lena.” The blonde waved goodbye, and she took off. You chuckled and focused back on your work. That Black Widow. She was going to be the death of you.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

“Just stay the night,” you told her behind your shoulder as you stepped into your apartment. “It’s late,” you heard the door close as you filled a glass of water. Your throat was dry from the few drinks you had and talking over the music. The night was fun. You spent a large portion of the night sitting at the table with Yelena’s arm wrapped around your waist. You sipped on the drinks that the blonde got for you and watched the members of the team dissolve into chaos. Kate even managed to pull you onto the dance floor. Lucky, Yelena came to save you.

“Are you sure?” Yelena asked. “I do not mind going back.” You smiled.

“I insist,” you said. “I have some clothes that you can wear and an extra toothbrush.” Yelena huffed, and the sound had you rolling your eyes. You placed the glass in the sink to be dealt with in the morning and walked over to her. Maybe you could blame it on the alcohol. But you felt bolder. You placed your hand over her heart. “Don’t overthink it. Just come to bed with me.” Yelena groaned and threw her head back.

“You can not say stuff like that, detka (babe),” you huffed. Before she could make another snarky comment, you grabbed her hand and led her to your bedroom. Your night routine was simple. Change out of the clothes. Wash your face, then brush your teeth. Finally, you lay under the covers as you waited for Yelena.

The mindless scrolling on your phone helped take your mind off the fact that Yelena was a room away and going to sleep next to you. The butterflies swirled in your stomach, but it was curved with excitement.

The bathroom door opened, and you looked at Yelena as you placed your phone on the side table. Her hair was in a loose braid, and she looked softer in the clothes you gave her. With a smile, you pulled the covers back to make space for the Black Widow. Her movement was slow, calculated, like she was giving you every opportunity to change your mind. Finally, she lay down and pulled the blanket over her. She moved to her side and faced you, arm bent at the elbow with her head in her hand. “Have I ever told you?” Yelena whispered. You were resting on your back so you turned your head to look at her. “You are the most beautiful girl in the entire world.”

“Shut up,” you mumbled and rolled your eyes. “You are just saying that because you are in my bed.” Yelena shook her head.

“I am saying it because it is the truth.” With her free hand, she took yours. Her lips gently pressed to the back of your hand. You gave her a shy smile.

“You are very special, Yelena,” you whispered. “Can you maybe hold me?” Her face softened.

“Yeah, of course, baby,” you turned over until your back was to her. Her arm went around your waist and pulled you flush to her. You felt her breath against your neck as goosebumps formed on your skin.

“Good night, Yelena.” Her lips grazed a spot on your shoulder not covered by your shirt.

“Goodnight.” It was the fastest you’ve fallen asleep.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

Yelena woke up to a weight on her chest. As her eyes fluttered open to take in her surroundings, she realized she was not in her room at the tower. Before panic could settle in her stomach, the smell of floral body wash invaded her senses. Fast asleep on her chest was you. There was definitely dried drool on your cheek, and soft snores that escaped past your mouth made Yelena smile. This was the most at peace she’s seen you, and that made you ever more gorgeous. While you slept, it appeared you were finally able to let your guard down.

The few months of this ‘thing’, you were slowly becoming more open around her. You were shy; no one would argue against that. But the more time you spent around her, Yelena truly believed you made yourself smaller on purpose. Like you were afraid of the attention. But Yelena saw you when you thought no one was looking.

The smile you wore when you were engrossed in a good book. The way your eyebrows scrunched together while you concentrated on a task that Pepper gave you. On rare occasions, she would catch you laughing, and that sound would replay in her head. So, she began to leave you notes, then breakfast at your desk, and little gifts to see you smile. Finally, she got the courage to ask you out, and you said yes. Even though she was free from the Red Room, she finally felt like she was living when she was with you.

Sighing, she kissed the top of your head. You sighed happily in your sleep and nuzzled closer to her. The action made Yelena’s heart leap. For the longest time, she saw herself as a monster. So much blood soaked her hands that she hated the color red. When she was with you, she felt she was capable of being loved.

The clock on your nightstand read 8:15. It was Saturday morning, and neither of you had any plans. Still, Yelena wanted to surprise you with breakfast and coffee, which meant she had to leave the comfort and warmth of your bed.

With expert precision, she was able to untangle herself from you and slip out of the bedroom. Cooking wasn’t in her wheelhouse of skills, so she ordered food, but she could make coffee. While she waited, she walked around your apartment. Your space was welcoming. The walls were covered by local artwork. Pillows covered your couch, and there were half-used candles around. It was lived in, loved, and Yelena found herself feeling more at home here than she did in her own room.

As she was looking for a lighter to light some of your candles, she found a notebook with the Black Widow logo on it. More specifically, it was colored white against the dark green cover. It felt wrong, but Yelena picked it up and flipped it to the first page. Her stomach flipped. Glued carefully to the center of the page was a note, in her handwriting, that wished for you to have a great day. It was the first note she gave you. Now she was drawn to the contents of what else was hidden in the pages of the journal. Some pages just had a note or a flower she gave you that you pressed and saved. Other pages had little doodles or notes you wrote about your day. Every little thing you kept - down to the sticker of your coffee orders or the wrapping paper your gift was packaged in.

Truthfully, Yelena thought you threw the notes away, but you kept them and took the time and care to create this journal. A knock at your door caused her to jump. Quickly, she put the notebook back and rushed to the door. She thanked the deliveryman with a smile and closed the door with her hip.

There was a pep in her step as she grabbed some plates and poured coffee into mugs. “Did you cook?” Yelena glanced at you from where your voice was heard. You were leaning against the wall, your shirt a little lopsided, and you rubbed the sleep out of your eyes.

“No,” Yelena chuckled. “I ordered, but you were supposed to be in bed when I was done here.” You gave her a soft smile and walked the few steps towards her. “Good morning, beautiful.” Yelena would never get tired of complimenting you. You weren’t used to it. Your nose would crinkle up, and Yelena could see the heat rise to your cheeks. It seemed natural for Yelena to lean forward and capture your lips.

You were addicting. Every time you kissed her, her brain would turn to mush. It wasn’t her intention for the kiss to deepen, but your back was pressed against the counter. You ended it. Cheeks flushed and chest rising up and down as you stared at her. “What was that for?”

it had been all nat's idea. you had no play in it, other than simply agreeing.

nat bursts into your room like she owns it, typical older sister antics, throwing herself across your bed. you yelp and tuck your sheets over yourself like a shield.

"get up, we're going out today. i wanna visit that amusement park like a city over, supposed to be real good." she says, none of it a question, all an order.

you groan and pull your blanket above your head, "what if i had plans?"

"you don't," she quips with a smirk, "oh—and lottie's coming too. you cool with that?"

your stomach flips. you can feel the heat crawl up your neck, forcing out a nonchalant "yeah, whatever."

it was stupid to be crushing on your older sister's best friend, right? of course it was. painfully cliche as well. you'd be kidding yourself if you had a chance, and even more out of your mind if you ever thought nat would allow it.

although she never notices the way your cheeks dust pink whenever lottie's name is brought up.

so this is where you find yourself, in a scene full of bright colours and fried food, accompanied by your sister and her friend. your stomach is already doing flips before you even set foot on any rides, all because your not-so-secret-crush was walking a little too close behind you.

nat was all bravado, leading the way with her sunglasses perched low on her nose, cigarette pack tucked in her back pocket like an accessory. "first stop: coaster," she announced, ignoring the fact you'd barely just step foot past the gates.

you had dressed with intent—skirt not too short but still acceptable, lip gloss that caught in the sunlight, and a tank top you knew was teetering the line between cute and too much. subconsciously, it was for lottie. you didn't know if lottie would get it, but you hoped she would.

and judging the way her eyes lingered when she first saw you this morning—yeah, she got it. she'd shown up in her usual, confident but effortless. loose jeans, button up tucked into her jeans with a matching belt, baseball cap and sneakers so worn they'd be considered retired. she looked like she'd just rolled out of bed but somehow managed to look hotter than anyone had the right to.

"you better not flake on us," nat teased you when she caught you eyeing the looming rollercoaster. "chicken."

you rolled your eyes, "i'm not a kid anymore." 

"she's braver than you think," lottie said softly from beside you. her voice low but amused. she glanced over at you, when she smiled a hint of a dimple showing. your breath caught.

nat groaned, "oh, come on. do not encourage her."

by the time you got in line, nat had weaselled her way to the very front row. "you two can sit behind, i'm not babysitting." to which you shot her a look and then the finger.

your heart betrayed the calmness you attempted to put out. alone with lottie.

the metal bar snagged down across your lap, and suddenly your bravado melted. you must've gone a little stiff because lottie noticed immediately. always so attentive. 

"you good?" she asked, leaning close, voice just for you. her shoulder brushes yours, warm and grounding.

"totally fine," you said quickly. a fat lie.

her mouth quirked like she didn't believe you. of course she didn't. without hesitation, she slid her hand over yours on the bar, her thumb brushing lazily over your knuckles, which had a death grip on the bar. "well, now you are." bold.

"hold onto me if you need to. i got you," she added and your heart lurched faster than the ride did forward. 

the ride launched. nat's giggles and screams carried over the wind, but all you could think about was lottie's hand covering yours, steady and unmoving while the world blurred around you. you screamed too, but you screamed into her shoulder, and she laughed.

when the ride finally screeched to a stop, nat turned in her seat, breathlessly laughing. "you look like you just saw god."

you were already too busy catching your own breath. you want to bite back but lottie squeezes your hand before letting go, shooting you a small grin only you catch.

"i thought she did great," she says.

nat's face scrunched in feign disgust, "traitor; you're supposed to be on my side."

and all you knew from that is that you'd have to sit through at least 3 more rides to sooth nat's need for an adrenaline rush.

by the time you made it past the roller coasters, your legs were tired and nat was already whining about how overpriced the food was. you spotted the midway games, all neon signs and rigged prizes, and your eyes locked onto the giant plush tucked high on one of the shelves—an absurdly big white bear with a sparkly bowtie.

"holy shit," you murmured, not meaning to out-loud, "i need that."

nat snorted, "don't waste your money, it's all a scam." she shook her head, but grabbed a crumpled 5 dollar bill from her pocket, nudging it to you.

you gave her a small push but you didn't move. the carny behind the counter spun a baseball in his hands, gesturing to the row of milk bottles stacked in pyramids. "knock 'em down, and ya' can pick whatever from up there." he pointed to the giant plush you just had to have.

you handed the bill over to the man, which he traded for 3 baseballs. you narrowed your eyes on the stacks, throwing the first ball. you frowned as you missed, ball hitting the wall and dropping to the ground.

nat snickered behind you, "come on, drop your purse." she teased, lottie chuckling beside her. 

you ignored her and threw another, this time hitting the top of the stack, dropping one of the glass bottles. you attempted to aim your last ball a little better, throwing it with more hope than skill. to your luck—or skill—it bounced off the wood block, narrowly missing your target. you whined, turning around in defeat.

"so close, maybe next time." the carny announced, rubbing salt on your wounded ego.

"did you even try?" nat added, "you were supposed to hit the bottles y'know."

"asshole." you grunt, ready to move on.

"you want that one?" lottie suddenly asked, stepping forward, tilting her head toward the giant bear.

you bite the inside of your cheek and nodded, "it's stupid. but yeah." you said, suddenly very sheepish.

she smirked—barely there, but a glint of challenge in her deep eyes. "i'll get it for you."

you blinked. "what—lottie, no, it's impossible."

lottie hummed and shook her head, "mmm, let’s see."

nat groaned. "here we go. don't embarrass yourself, lott."

but lottie was already handing the carny a clean bill, rolling her shoulders like she was warming up. she stepped to the line, focused, all that soccer-trained precision snapping into place. you watched the way her jaw flexed, the way her cap shadowed her eyes when she narrowed them on the bottles.

you'd be lying if she didn't look ridiculously hot right now.

first throw—bang. the ball missed, dropping to the ground after hitting the back wall. nat snorted, which lottie shot her a look.

"thank goodness we play soccer and not baseball, matthews." you elbowed your older sister, eyes still trained on lottie.

her hands clenched the second baseball, second throw. crash—the ball hit the top of the pyramid, sending a handful of bottles to the ground. everything relied on her last throw, which she didn't disappoint. with precision she threw the last ball, sending the whole pyramid to come crashing down.

your mouth dropped open, nat actually froze for a beat, "no fucking way," she muttered.

the carny grumbled, but pointed up, "pick your prize."

she didn't hesitate. she pointed right at the giant white bear. when the carny dragged it down it was nearly as tall as you. she took it in one arm and turned to you with maddening calmness, eyes glinting.

"here, i believe this is for you," she said simply, holding it out.

you laughed, half from shock, half from nerves, hugging the blush to your chest. it was giant and ridiculous, similar to the ever growing crush you had on her. "you didn't have to do that." 

"i wanted to." her voice dipped a little lower, almost shy.

nat gagged loudly, then grabbed your elbow dragging you forward, "oh my god, i'm never inviting you two again. let's go get food, im starved."

you felt your face burn but when you glanced back, lottie was still watching you—hands shoved in her pockets, a smug little smile tugging at her lips like she couldn't hide it if she tried to.

the sun dipped low, the amusement park transformed. neon buzzed alive, lights strung on every ride and stand, air thick with sugar, smoke and hum of the crowd. your giant plush bear basically dragging across the pavement by now, nat was two steps ahead, distracted by a stand selling corndogs.

"stay here," she barked, already fishing for cash. "don't wander off."

you rolled your eyes but didn't argue, especially when you realized what that meant—for the first time all day, you and lottie were standing there, alone.

she was leaning against the railing, hat low, arms crossed, watching the ferris wheel spin slowly and glittering against the night sky. she caught you staring, making your heart stutter.

"wanna go up?" you ask, catching her by surprise.

"yeah, i do." she nodded with a gentle smile.

nat's words long forgotten in your minds.

the two of you squeezed in together, the massive bear sitting in front of you two, as if it was another person. you were practically pressed against lottie's side, the smell of her cologne, clean and woodsy, filling your head. you're hoping your perfume did the same to her.

the wheel moved slowly, lifting you higher and higher, the park shrinking below. from up here it looked like another world.

you slid in a little closer to her subconsciously, hands fidgeting in your lap. "this is... kinda insane," you admitted, looking over the metal.

"not scary?" she teased.

"only a little."

she laughed, leaning back, one arm slung casually over the back of your seat, her fingers nearly brushing your shoulder.

"i think i can see nat down there arguing with a vendor." you joke, a nervous tick to the sudden awkwardness you feel pooling. 

lottie laughs, her head tipping back a bit. "i wouldn't doubt it." she hums.

the wheel halts as you make it to the very top, rocking slightly in the summer air. the town glittered underneath, colours and sounds drifting faintly.

"wow," you whispered.

"yeah," lottie said, but her eyes weren't on the view. they were on you.

you felt it—the weight of her gaze, the heat rising under your skin. you dared a glance back and she didn't look away. her sharp yet soft features illuminated by the dim unnatural neons.

"nat would kill me if she knew what i was thinking right now." her voice was low and careful.

you swallowed, "what are you thinking?"

she laughed, shy, like she was embarrassed, shaking her head. "i shouldn't."

but her knee brushed yours, and neither of you pulled back. you couldn't, there was some magnetic force pulling you to her. for the first time all day there was no nat, no noise, no excuse. just the two of you and the whole town below.

"tell me," you pressed, whispering like a dare.

her jaw clenched, like she was fighting something, holding something back. then she leaned in, slow, giving you time to pull away. you didn't.

her lips touched yours, gentle at first, tentative, almost as if she didn't believe she was allowed. you kissed her back before you could think. all those late night thoughts of how her mouth would feel on yours suddenly not just an imaginary scenario.

the kiss deepened for just a second, her hand sliding from the seat to the rail, steadying herself. it was clumsy, secret and it burned hotter than anything you've ever felt.

she pulled back, her cheeks flushed, eyes wide under the brim of her hat. "was that—was that okay?" you whisper, heart thrumming.

a stupid grin stretched onto her face, "more than." she bit her lip. "shit," a shaky laugh escaped her, "your sister's gonna kill me."

the cart jolted again, breaking your trance as it began its slow descent. "she doesn't need to know." you say, the only plausible answer.

nat was waiting at the bottom, two corndogs in each hand, one already halfway eaten. waving each like a flag. "took you long enough! what happened to 'stay put'?" she arched her brow.

you were far too busy replaying what took place on the ferris wheel to even care. nat's eyes darted between you both. you squeezed your bear tight, tethering you to the earth.

"my bad, wanted to go up there while we waited for your slow ass." lottie chimed, calm as ever.

nat laughed, then turned, looking over her shoulder as she led once again. "alright, well let's find out how to fit that thing in the car," she pointed at your bear. "you might have to sit on lottie's lap." nat added nonchalant as she continued her journey, unbeknownst to the heat that flooded your face.

lottie and you exchanged a glance, a smile on lottie's face that just makes you want to kiss her all over again. your little secret now.

Outside, Metropolis slept under a blanket of stars that Y/N could probably count if they wanted to. Hell, they could probably fly up and touch them, bring one back as a souvenir if Lois asked. The thought should have been romantic. Instead, it felt like another reminder of the impossible distance between them - not in space, but in worth.

“You’re up early.” Y/N’s voice was soft with sleep, careful not to startle her. They always did that - moved with deliberate gentleness around her, as if she were made of something more fragile than the steel beams they bent with their bare hands.

Lois didn’t look up from her screen. “Perry’s being Perry.”

It wasn’t entirely a lie. Their editor had been breathing down her neck about the Superman piece, but that wasn’t why she’d been staring at a blank page for two hours. The real story—the one she couldn’t write, couldn’t speak, could barely think - was sitting right behind her, probably seeing the tension in her shoulders with those impossibly perfect eyes.

Y/N moved around the kitchen with practiced quiet, and Lois found herself cataloging every movement. The way they reached for the coffee filters without looking, muscle memory guiding hands that could crush diamonds. The slight tilt of their head as they listened to something she couldn’t hear - probably a cat stuck in a tree three neighborhoods over, or a car accident downtown, or a child crying for their mother in a language Y/N had learned in an afternoon because learning came as easily to them as breathing.

“Mhm.” Y/N set her coffee down, black no sugar, still too hot. They always got the temperature wrong - trying so hard to be normal when they were anything but.

“Thanks.” Another lie about sleeping. She’d spent most of the night watching Y/N, looking for proof they were as human as they claimed. Even unconscious, they were perfect - no snoring, no drooling. Just that faint warmth that always radiated from their skin.

The worst part was that Y/N didn’t even seem to realize how extraordinary they were. They worried about being late to work (as if they couldn’t fly there in seconds). They agonized over which tie to wear (as if anyone would dare criticize Superman’s fashion choices). They asked Lois if she thought they were putting on weight (as if their Kryptonian metabolism would ever allow such a thing).

It was endearing and heartbreaking and completely maddening all at once.

Y/N settled beside her, close enough that she could smell sleep and ozone. “Talk to me.”

“I’m fine.”

“Lois.” That tone - patient but firm, the same one they used with jumpers and hostage takers. “You’ve been weird for weeks.”

Pulling away. What a clinical way to describe the slow-motion disaster of her heart. Because that’s what this was, wasn’t it? The inevitable conclusion to every relationship she’d ever attempted, except this time the stakes weren’t just her pride or her comfort. This time, the person she was going to hurt was literally the best person in the world.

The thought made her stomach clench. She’d broken up with good people before - decent, kind, normal partners who deserved better than her sharp edges and trust issues. But Y/N wasn’t just good. They were good good. They were the person children drew pictures of, the person who made hardened cynics believe in heroes again, the person who had never once used their godlike power for personal gain.

And they were going to let her break their heart because they thought she was worth it.

“I’m not-“ She started to deny it, but Y/N’s expression stopped her. Not disappointed, not angry. Just…understanding. That was somehow worse.

“I know you,” Y/N said quietly. “I know when you’re building walls.”

The problem was, they did know her. Better than anyone had ever bothered to try. Y/N knew that she took her coffee black because she’d grown up poor and sugar was a luxury. They knew she checked the locks twice because her father had drilled paranoia into her bones. They knew she worked late because stillness felt too much like giving up.

Y/N knew all of this and somehow still chose to love her. It defied logic.