Marvel women: More to be listed but these are the general
Natasha Romanoff
Wanda Maximoff
Carol Danvers
Yelena Belova
Kate bishop
Rules: I explicitly do not write anything relating to pedophilia, rape or incest. I do not write male reader or male characters. I do not write smut. If any request seem to make me uncomfortable I will clarify that I will not write(sorry). Hope you enjoy your time in my blog
Natasha x Reader
Series:
Littlest Widow: [Masterlist]
One-shot:
Cat and Ears
My koala bear
Keep me warm
Sweet Child of Mine [platonic]; [Part 1.5]; [A day out with Mama Nat]
A.N: an unrealistic ending to a story that’s true for many. This one I’ve been meaning to write for a while; it felt like a hug 🫂
You don’t like loud classrooms.
They make your chest feel tight, like the air is too thick to breathe properly.
The other kids don’t seem to notice the chatter, the scraping chairs, or the laughter that comes too easily.
You sit at your desk near the window, fingers curled around the edge, eyes fixed on the trees outside.
It’s easier that way.
“Y/N?”
Your shoulders tense.
You know that voice.
Soft.
Careful.
Like it doesn’t want to scare you.
You turn your head just a little. Your teacher, Ms. Maximoff, is kneeling beside your desk now.
Her red hair falls forward slightly as she tilts her head, studying you with gentle concern.
“You’ve been awfully quiet today,” she says. “Is everything okay?”
You nod immediately.
Her expression doesn’t change much, but something in her eyes softens even more, like she doesn’t believe you, but she won’t push. Not yet, at least.
“That’s alright,” she murmurs. “If you ever want to talk about anything, I’m here.”
You look back at the window, not wanting to continue the conversation.
Wanda notices patterns. It’s something she’s always been good at. Like, small shifts, quiet changes, the things other people overlook.
It’s part of what makes her such a good teacher.
And you… You don’t fit.
Not in the way the other children do. You don’t laugh loudly. You don’t raise your hand. You flinch when someone moves too fast near you. You freeze when voices get too sharp.
And sometimes—this is what unsettles her the most—you look tired.
Not sleepy.
Tired.
That deep, bone-heavy kind of tired no child should carry.
She tries again a few days later.
“Y/N,” she says gently after class, when the other students have left.
You pause at the door, your small backpack hanging off one shoulder.
“Can you stay for a moment?”
You hesitate.
Then nod.
You step closer, but you don’t meet her eyes.
Wanda keeps her voice soft. “I just wanted to check in. I’ve noticed you’ve been a little… quiet lately.”
Silence.
Your fingers tighten around your sleeve.
“You know,” she continues, “sometimes when something is bothering us, it can help to talk about it. Even a little.”
You shake your head.
Still not looking at her.
“I’m okay,” you whisper.
The words sound practiced.
Rehearsed.
Wanda feels her chest tighten.
“Alright,” she says, just as gently. “You can go.”
You leave quickly.
Too quickly.
-///-
That night, Wanda doesn’t stop thinking about you.
Her wife, Natasha, notices.
She always does, too.
“You’re doing that thing again,” Natasha says from the kitchen, leaning against the counter with a mug in her hand.
Wanda looks up from the couch. “What thing?”
“The ‘I’m worried but trying not to say it out loud’ thing.”
Wanda exhales softly, rubbing her hands together. “There’s a student in my class.”
Natasha raises an eyebrow. “Only one?”
Wanda almost smiles, patting the seat next to her.
“She’s… different. Quiet. Withdrawn. But it’s more than that.” She hesitates, meeting Natasha’s eyes as she moves towards the couch. “She flinches. A lot. And she looks… exhausted.”
She sits down next to Wanda, knees touching her thigh as she tucks her legs underneath herself.
“How old?”
“Six.”
Natasha sets her mug down.
“Has she said anything?”
Wanda shakes her head. “Every time I ask, she shuts down. It’s like she’s… afraid of saying the wrong thing.”
That’s what does it.
Natasha straightens slightly, something cold and precise settling behind her eyes.
“Tomorrow,” she says, “I’m coming with you.”
Wanda blinks. “Nat—”
"Wands, I work in children's welfare. What you said is reason enough for me to look into it,” Natasha says calmly. “And if something’s wrong…” She trails off, but she doesn’t need to finish.
Wanda nods.
She trusts her.
Always has.
-///-
The next day, you notice her immediately.
She doesn’t belong in a classroom.
Not like Ms. Maximoff does.
This woman is… different.
She stands near the doorway at first, speaking quietly with your teacher.
She’s dressed simply, but there’s something about the way she holds herself, straight, alert, like she’s always watching.
Her eyes scan the room.
And then they land on you.
You look away quickly.
But it’s too late.
She’s already noticed.
Natasha takes her time.
She doesn’t approach you right away.
Instead, she observes.
The way you sit too stiff in your chair. The way your gaze flickers toward the door every few minutes. The way you hesitate before answering even the simplest question.
And then—
A boy runs past your desk too fast, and a chair scrapes loudly.
You flinch.
Not a small reaction.
Not subtle.
A full-body recoil, like you were expecting something worse.
Natasha’s jaw tightens.
Yeah.
Something’s wrong.
Later, during lunch break, Wanda sits beside you on the bench.
Natasha lingers a few steps away, pretending to check something on her phone.
“You remember my wife, Ms. Romanoff?” Wanda asks gently.
You nod.
“She works with children, too,” Wanda continues. “She just wants to make sure everyone is safe and happy.”
Safe.
The word makes your stomach twist.
Natasha steps closer, crouching down so she’s at your level.
Her voice is calm and steady.
“Hi, Y/N. I’m Natasha.”
You don’t answer.
“You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to.”
You glance at her.
Just for a second.
Her eyes are different from everyone else’s.
They’re not soft like Wanda’s.
But they’re not harsh either.
They’re… certain.
As if she already knows something.
“Can I ask you something?” she says.
You hesitate.
Then shrug slightly.
It’s not quite a yes.
But it’s not a no.
Natasha nods once, like that’s enough.
“Do you feel safe at home?”
Your heart stops.
The world goes very, very quiet.
You stare at the ground.
You don’t respond.
You can’t.
Because if you say the wrong thing—
If you say anything—
Your fingers curl tightly into your sleeves.
Natasha watches the silence stretch.
The way your shoulders tense.
The way your breathing changes.
And that’s all she needs.
She doesn’t ask again.
Instead, her voice softens—just slightly.
“You’re not in trouble,” she says. “And whatever is going on… it’s not your fault.”
Your throat tightens.
You blink hard.
Still, you say nothing.
But Natasha doesn’t push.
She stands slowly, exchanging a look with Wanda.
A silent understanding passes between them.
This isn’t nothing.
This is something.
And they’re not going to ignore it.
-///-
That afternoon, as you sit by the window again, the classroom feels a little different.
Not louder.
Not quieter.
Just… different.
Because now, someone has seen you.
Even if you didn’t say a word.
And for the first time in a long while, you’re not completely invisible anymore.
The man introduces himself as Steve.
He doesn’t stand over you like most adults do when they want something. Instead, he pulls a chair out slowly and turns it so he’s sitting across from you—not too close, not too far.
Just enough that you know he’s there, but not enough to make you feel trapped.
“Hi,” he says, offering a small, careful smile. “I’m Steve.”
You don’t answer.
You keep your eyes on the desk, tracing a faint scratch in the wood with your fingertip. You’ve already counted it before—three fingers long, slightly curved—but counting it again feels easier than looking up.
“That’s okay,” Steve says gently, like he expected the silence. “You don’t have to say anything right away.”
The room is quiet. Too quiet.
Outside the classroom, you can hear the distant noise of other students—chairs moving, someone laughing, a teacher calling out instructions. It feels far away. Like it belongs to a different world.
“I heard you like sitting by the window,” Steve continues after a moment.
Your finger stills.
He notices things.
You don’t like that.
“It’s a good spot,” he adds. “Lots of light. And you can see outside.”
You don’t respond.
But you don’t move away either.
Steve shifts slightly in his chair, resting his forearms on his knees. He doesn’t take out a notebook. Doesn’t write anything down.
He just… sits.
“I work with kids sometimes,” he says. “Mostly I just make sure they’re okay.”
Okay.
You swallow.
“I talk to teachers. Sometimes parents. Sometimes kids, if they want to.” He pauses. “But only if they want to.”
Silence stretches again.
Your shoulders feel tight.
Your chest feels tight.
“Do you feel safe at home?”
There it is.
The question.
It drops into the room like something heavy.
Your heart starts beating faster. You can feel it in your throat, in your ears, and in your fingertips.
You nod.
Too fast.
Too automatic.
Steve doesn’t react right away.
He just watches you.
Not in a scary way.
Not like he’s angry.
But like he’s… thinking.
Like he’s trying to understand something you didn’t say.
“Okay,” he says finally.
That’s it.
No follow-up.
No pressure.
But somehow that makes it worse.
-///-
He comes to your house two days later.
You know it’s him before anyone says his name.
There’s something about the knock, firm but not aggressive.
Steady.
Your stomach twists so hard it almost hurts.
“Stay in your room,” your parent says sharply, already moving toward the door.
You don’t argue.
You never argue.
You close your door quietly and sit on the floor, your back pressed against the side of your bed. It feels safer down here. Smaller. Like, if you make yourself small enough, you won’t be noticed.
Voices drift through the house.
Muffled at first.
Then clearer.
“…just a routine check…”
“…she’s a quiet child…”
“…always been sensitive…”
You pull your knees to your chest and wrap your arms around them, pressing your face down.
You try to make yourself even smaller.
“…we would never…”
“…of course, we understand your concern…”
Their voices sound normal.
You know that tone.
You’ve heard it before.
It’s the voice they use for other people.
Not for you.
You squeeze your eyes shut.
If you don’t move, if you don’t make a sound, maybe he won’t come up here.
Maybe he’ll just leave.
Maybe everything will stay the same.
You don’t know if that’s what you want.
But it’s what you’re used to.
After a while, the voices fade.
The door opens.
Closes.
Footsteps.
Silence.
He’s gone.
Nothing changes.
At first.
Then everything does.
You don’t go to school the next day.
Or the day after that.
At first, you think you’re sick without knowing you were.
Or maybe in trouble.
You don’t ask.
You’ve learned not to ask.
“There’s no need,” your parent says when you linger near the door on the third morning, your backpack hanging loosely from your shoulder. “You’ll stay home for a while.”
“For how long?” you whisper.
They look at you.
Just look.
Your throat closes.
“…okay,” you say quickly.
Your backpack stays by the door.
You go back to your room.
-///-
Days blur together.
You lose track of time.
Morning feels like evening. Evening feels like nothing.
The window doesn’t help anymore.
You stop looking outside.
There’s no point.
No one is coming.
-///-
Wanda notices on the first day.
The empty chair.
Your chair.
She pauses in the middle of attendance, her eyes lingering just a second longer than they should.
“Y/N?” she calls out automatically.
Silence answers.
A student shifts in their seat.
“She’s not here,” someone says.
Wanda nods slowly, marking it down.
Absent.
It happens.
Kids get sick.
But something about it doesn’t sit right.
On the second day, she asks the office.
“No call or note,” they tell her.
Her concern sharpens.
On the third day, she calls.
No answer.
By the fourth day, she’s pacing.
“You’re wearing a path into the floor,” Natasha says from the kitchen, watching her with quiet focus.
Wanda doesn’t stop. “She hasn’t been in school all week.”
Natasha sets her mug down. “Did the office hear anything?”
“No. No call. No email. Nothing.” Wanda runs a hand through her hair, frustration and worry tangled together. “That’s not normal.”
“No,” Natasha agrees. “It’s not.”
Wanda turns to her. “What if something happened?”
Natasha doesn’t answer right away.
Because they’re both thinking the same thing.
“What if we missed something?” Wanda whispers.
Natasha’s gaze softens slightly. “You didn’t miss anything.”
“But she wouldn’t talk to me,” Wanda says, her voice tightening. “She wouldn’t talk to Steve either, and now she’s just—gone.”
Natasha straightens. “Then we go find her.”
Wanda blinks. “Nat—”
“I mean it,” Natasha says. “This doesn’t feel right. Not after what we saw.”
Wanda hesitates.
Then nods.
“I’m going there,” she says.
Natasha doesn’t argue.
“I’m coming with you.”
The house looks normal.
That’s the first thing Wanda notices, and it makes something deep in her chest twist uncomfortably.
The curtains are neat. The garden is trimmed. The front step is clean.
Everything looks… fine.
Too fine.
“She lives here,” Wanda says quietly.
Natasha stands beside her, eyes already scanning windows, corners, and small details most people would miss.
“Okay,” she replies.
Wanda steps forward and knocks.
The sound echoes too loudly in the still air.
They wait.
Nothing.
Wanda knocks again, harder this time. “Y/N? It’s Ms. Maximoff.”
❥ ⎯⎯⎯⎯ㅤ𐙚ㅤׄ With each passing day, you're having more and more wet dreams about the Avengers Women. That's the least of your worries, though, because your bills are piling up. Then, one fine day, your future boss bumps into you and hires you, without either of you knowing that you're soulmates... and that she'd have to share you with 12 other women, who as her friends. 🌟ֵᩧ ꒱꒱ ♡
ᰍᰨ ׅ ⸼ parings ꢁ Kate Bishop, Maria Hill, Maya Lopez, Hela Odinsdottir, Starrlight, Valcarol, Shuriri, Wandanat, Agathario x Fem Reader. Selina Kyle x F!Reader (past). Felicia Hardy x F!Reader (crush). Peter Parker x Michelle Jones (MJ) → EXTRA: Bishova, Blackhill, Wandagatha, Helkyrie, Carolnat, BatCat.
ᰍᰨ ׅ ⸼ cw ꢁ +18!! Adult content. Each chapter contains smut. Dom!Avengers x Sub!Reader. Secretary!Reader x Boss!Kate. AFAB (assigned female at birth) Reader; has uterus, hair and uses SHE/HER pronouns. Reader has the skin and sexuality you can imagine!! Soulmates au. English is not my first language. MEN AND MINORS DNI.
Let me know if you want to be tagged in each chapter.
01 ⎯⎯ㅤ⁞⁞⁞ㅤ Prologue ㅤ୭ৎ
02 ⎯⎯ㅤ⁞⁞⁞ㅤ coming soon! ㅤ୭ৎ
୭ৎ ׁ ₊ — N/A ⦂ I had to rewrite the fanfic :)), I was supposed to post it last month, but there were too many inconsistencies and I was in a rush. Therefore, I decided to recreate it. It may take a while, but this time it won't be in oneshot format. Since there are many women, I want to try to develop Reader's relationship with two of them in each chapter. Also, the description or the pairings can change, I think there are already many women, but if u want any other heroine (DC or Marvel, both coexist here), I can add her. Well. Enjoy. S2
☆ Summary: The sheets are ruined, Clara is possibly dating someone, Alexia loves her teammates, an Instagram live might or might not out you and Alexia to the world, and alcohol makes you far too horny for your own good
☆ Word count: 7.5K
☆ Warnings: (+18) SMUT • bathroom sex • fingering (r receiving) • slight voyeurism (?) • lots of kissing • making out • clara walking in during the worst possible time again • the girls teasing you and Alexia a lot • everyone is a bit tipsy ok
☆ A/n: keeping score universe!! You will enjoy this fic more if you read these fics first -> part 1 here
You were finally fully dressed for the club. With a black t-shirt and matching cargo jeans, you looked put together enough. You couldn't say the same about the room, though.
In fact, you and Alexia were currently in the middle of a clumsy and thoroughly ungraceful attempt to strip the bed. You were trying — emphasis on trying — to yank the damp, ruined sheet off the mattress before housekeeping, or worse, one of the girls saw them.
Unfortunately, Alexia was moving way too slowly, and it looked like she had never once been expected to do teamwork, which was a shame for a player of her aptitude.
"Alexia," you said for what had to be the tenth time, pulling off the elastic band from your side of the fitted sheets while watching her struggle with hers for the last two minutes. "Have you ever changed a fitted sheet once in your life? Why the hell is it taking you so long?"
"Of course I have!" She scoffed.
You raised an eyebrow, and she folded.
"The elastic on this one is ridiculously tight, okay?! I have to stick my hand under the mattress," She held up her fingers in protest. "And I got my nails done yesterday. I don't want to ruin them!"
You blinked at her. "You cannot possibly be serious right now."
Suddenly, there was an impatient knock on the door, and Alexia let go of her side of the mattress. Of course she did.
You closed your eyes tight, breathing in and out to not scream at her.
While Alexia wandered off towards the door, you walked to where she was once standing to do the (very, extremely) simple work of removing the fucking fitted sheets off yourself.
All the while, a voice you knew very well called out from the other side of the door.
"Open up! We need to leave soon!" Clara's voice was sunny, and buoyant and utterly unwelcome, well, at least, by your part.
You froze in place with a handful of fitted (damp) sheets gripped tightly in your fist. "Oh no–"
Alexia apparently did not seem to understand that this was possibly the worst time to let a nineteen-year-old into the room. Instead, she smiled at the sound of Clara's voice and reached for the lock before you could mutter a word of protest.
If she had taken one single look at your face, she would have seen the panic written all over; she would have noticed your eyes widening, the internal screaming for her to step away from the door immediately, but since she did not, the door swung open, and your lovely sister walked right in.
Clara was as cheerful as she was the last time you saw her on the pitch, except now she wore clean clothes instead of her dirty match kit. The kid took one step into the room, and her eyes quickly landed on you.
You gulped, forcing a smile that did not come. Judging by the way Clara's eyebrow immediately lifted, you were probably frowning instead of smiling.
Your sister paused and narrowed her eyes. You could see that Clara instantly sensed your distress, like a shark sensing a droplet of blood in the ocean. Very slowly, very Hollywood-like, her gaze drifted to the now-bare, stripped mattress.
You watched colour draining from her cheeks, her pale face turning to Alexia, who was just beaming, wholly oblivious to the situation happening around her.
"Hi, Serra!" Alexia greeted her happily, leaning against the wall next to the entrance,
She was treating Clara as if they hadn't seen each other in months instead of hours. Cute… completely adorable! But also deeply unhelpful! Where was her sense of urgency?!
"Did Patri tell you what time she was meeting us or–?"
"Deu meu! No!" Clara's jaw dropped a centimetre per millisecond. "Please, por favor, don't tell me you two just–"
"Oh… perfect," You groaned as a furious blush rushed out from your neck all the way to the capillaries of your cheeks. You quickly threw the balled-up sheet and shoved it inside the wardrobe just to get it out of sight. "Clara, just close your eyes and try to pretend you didn't see the sheets, okay?"
Alexia stood perfectly still for a moment, slowly taking in the situation. But then, it all clicked in her head: Clara's reaction, the bed, and finally, what exactly you two had been doing before Clara walked in that resulted in you two having to strip the bed—
"Oh. Oh…" she said, her smile faltering. "Mmnn. S-sorry Serra, I don't think I should let you in…just yet."
You looked at Alexia deadpan, crossing your arms. "Oh, you think, Putellas?"
"Ay!" She protested, pouting. "Don't last-name me, mi amor! I was just excited to have the girls here, and I thought Patri was with‐"
"It's been less than an hour since we got to the hotel," Clara interrupted, looking like someone who had seen disgraceful things. "How can you two have already had sex?"
You and Alexia exchanged looks for a second, and then both of you looked at the girl.
"That's… that's actually plenty of time to–" Alexia began responding, right at the same moment Clara clamped both her hands over her ears.
"Ew!!" Clara said, offended, practically jumping backwards. "Don't tell me the details! That's so disgusting! What's wrong with you?!"
"You were the one who asked the question-?" Alexia pointed out, throwing her hands up in the air.
"Sí, pero–"
"Can the two of you please stop talking about this!" you interrupted loudly while wrestling a clean sheet onto the mattress. "Why does everything always seem to circle back to my sexual life!"
"My?" Alexia gasped, looking completely offended. "Excuse me? Our. I'm part of your sexual life!"
"I'm going to puke," Clara gagged. "I'm serious… I'm so nauseous."
"Please do so in the hallways and not in our room, por favor," Alexia replied, gesturing rather dramatically toward the open door, as if having to clean vomit would be the greatest inconvenience imaginable. You were a doctor, you were kind of familiar with it, so it wouldn't be that bad, right?
But Clara didn't move. Instead, her eyes widened even more, squinting intently at your collarbone "Y/n… Is that a– a hickey!?"
You felt your stomach drop as though someone had put stones on it. Your hand flew up on pure instinct to cover your throat before you even thought about it. You hadn't had the chance to put on concealer yet. "No, it's not."
"Then why are you covering your neck?" Clara challenged, crossing her arms.
"B-because–"
Before you could come up with a more convincing lie, Clara turned entirely to Alexia, looking unimpressed. "Really, capi?" she asked. "In the neck? That's such a beginner move… Everyone can see it."
Alexia tilted her head, looking pretty offended "Excuse me? Beginner move? she pointed at herself. "I'm thirty-two!"
"Do you want to tell me something, Clara?" You interrupted, your own eyes at your youngest sister, who, seemingly, overnight, had become suspiciously knowledgeable about the art of giving hickeys.
"Ugh, no!" Clara said, blushing creeping up her cheeks, while she held her hands up defensively. "No! Of course not, mana!" her eyes darted away. "We can actually go back to talking about the fact that my captain was all over my sister!"
"Or," Alexia countered, a slow and dangerous smirk shining across her face as she sensed Clara's panic. " We can talk about you, Serra, and why you seem to know so much about the appropriate, hidden location to give people hickeys.
Clara blushed so deeply and so rapidly that you became genuinely concerned about her blood pressure… Interesting, very interesting. You stared at her, making a mental note and snapping it into a place in your brain. You were definitely going to sit her down for a very long, very serious talk the second you got back from Oslo.
"Okay, stop!" you commanded, throwing your hands in the air. "No more talking about puking, and no more talking about sex, and no absolutely no more talking about hickeys!"
"Yes, Yes! Please, let's not talk about that ever again!" Clara agreed, clearly thrilled to have the spotlight off her own (possible) love life.
Her enthusiasm only made her look guiltier.
But then, in a change of mood of a true teenager, she looked towards Alexia, a smile shining bright on her face.
"...And how's my favourite three time Bollon d'or doing?" Clara asked cheerfully, stepping forward to give Alexia a playful punch on her arm. "After today's game, you'll definitely win it, I can already see itAa Can I go with you? Please? To the red carpet?"
Alexia let out a dramatic huff, rolling her eyes as she walked into the bathroom. "There's no red carpet yet, Serra. You know I don't like it when you guys-"
"Yes! Yet!" Clara said. "You said yet. That's the spirit, capi!"
"Oh Dios mío," Alexia rolled her eyes.
"She's gonna win it, you know?" Clara whispered loudly to you and ignored the captain's attempt to modesty as she trailed behind Alexia into the bathroom. "Your novía is going to be a three-time ballon–"
"I can hear you, Serra," Alexia called out from the mirror.
You glanced over and found her frowning at her reflection while fixing her hair. Her expression should be annoying, but the faint smile tugging at her mouth ruined the whole effect completely.
"-Loud and clear," she continued. "Stop, yeah?"
Clara grinned, and you couldn't help but grin too.
The girls never missed a single opportunity to tease Alexia about her achievements, and despite all her complaining, she secretly seemed to enjoy it far more than she liked to admit, and you found that utterly hilarious.
In the end, you realised a million things were happening at once: a possibly secret relationship brewing in your younger sister's life, a few too many (poorly hidden) hickeys burning on your neck, and an entire squad waiting downstairs while your girlfriend and your sister continued squabbling like siblings.
But right now, your most pressing concern was getting your makeup done before the team bus left without you.
Both Alexia and Clara ended up crowded around the bathroom counter to finish their hair and makeup side by side. You leaned your shoulder against the doorway, simply watching with a small smile on your face.
Alexia was so unbelievably patient and sweet with Clara. She shared her (expensive!!) products without complaining, gently helping her blend her blush the right way and correcting Clara whenever she got too impatient and tired and rushing through it.
Watching the two of them together like that made you fall even deeper in love with Ale. A dangerous thought erupted in your chest without warning, making you wonder about future life with Alexia, one that involved living together. It made you wonder about (eventually) having a small version of her with those same hazel eyes clinging to your legs and calling you mama.
The image hit you so unexpectedly that you quickly shook your head, clearing the thoughts away. That was definitely not a conversation meant for right now. It was a conversation for a much, much older version of yourself… right?
In fact, you were so thoroughly blinded by love and distracted by your rather alarming thought that you completely missed the moment Alexia decided to pick up her phone and started an Instagram Live.
Yes.
Out of the two of them, Alexia was the one who chose to do it.
This was a very unusual day.
"Hola culers!!" Clara beamed instantly as Alexia handed her the phone, only for Clara to focus the camera right back on the captain again.
"Ay, no, no! Point it somewhere else," Alexia mumbled, waving her hand and leaning into the mirror to focus on applying her lipstick. "I don't like cameras."
Despite being literally one of the biggest names in women's football, Alexia was always shy whenever attention was directed solely at her.
It was ridiculous and incredibly endearing.
"It's your live and you don't even want to be in it?!" Clara asked, looking absolutely scandalised. "You're making your fans sad, Alexia!"
"Fans, Serra? Please," Alexia laughed, shaking her head as she pressed her lips together to even out the lipstick.
You chuckled from your spot in the doorway, and both of them snapped their heads to look at you at the exact same time. As if only now they remembered your presence.
Alexia paused, lipstick still held mid-air. The bathroom lighting was incredibly warm, hitting the sharp line of her jaw and making her look unfairly pretty.
You stared at her, your heart doing somersaults.
You were definitely, absolutely going to have more sex tonight. In every possible position. Bedding be damned. Your back too.
"Guys!! Look who is here!"Clara immediately redirected the phone toward you. "This is my real hermana mayor! Say hi!! Oh, and be kind, yeah? she's a little shy." [Older sister]
You, just like Alexia, did not enjoy cameras.
On instinct, you spun around to escape being filmed… only to walk directly into a wall of a body. Patri had apparently let herself into the room at some point and was now standing right behind you.
Great.
Alexia's room was the official gathering point for the late-to-the-party teammates.
"Holaa chicas!" Patri smiled, her strong hands instantly grabbing your arms before you could take another step. "Can we go–Oh! Are you guys on live?" Her face lit up. "I want to be in it, too!"
She steered you back into the bathroom doorway with zero resistance to your protests, presenting you squarely in front of Clara and the phone as if you were the one who asked to participate in the live, and not her.
"Patri, no," You argued.
"Yes!" Clara and Patri said together.
"Jesus," you muttered, looking anywhere but at the screen. You looked so ugly up close! Damn, front cameras need to be destroyed.
"This is my mana," Clara continued cheerfully, shoving the phone close to your face as if you were not currently being held physically in place against your will. "And this is my hermana mediana, Patri!!"
Patri smiled and leaned down to press a kiss on the top of Clara's head, then smoothly lifted the phone out of the nineteen-year-old's hands and turned the focus onto herself. "Serra was incredible today, right guys? Her and La Reina–""
You glanced at Alexia.
She always went a little quiet when she heard that nickname, a faint blush appeared on her neck, a small dip of her head, like she still didn't quite know what to do with it, even after all this time.
You kept your expression very neutral, digging your fingers into the doorframe to hold yourself back from crossing the room and kissing her.
"Are you the only one ready, y/n?" Patri asked, glancing at you with a grin, while Clara successfully wrestled the phone back in her own hand and went right back to chattering with it.
You nodded.
"She's very efficient," Alexia said from the mirror, her eyes catching yours in the reflection.
"I'm not efficient," you countered, voice low and shy, trying to ignore the spike of heat in your cheeks. "You and Clara just take double the time."
"Of course they do," Patri agreed, and without further warning, she reached out and took both Clara's and Alexia's faces in her hands at the same time, ruthlessly squeezing their cheeks together. "Look at these two. Baby doll faces… munequitas!" [Dools]
Clara laughed loudly, the camera tilting. Alexia smiled awkwardly, blushing even deeper, completely helpless against the grip of her midfield partner.
"Párate," Alexia mumbled, mortified, trying to swat Patri's hand away, but smiling nonetheless. [stop]
Clara was already scrolling through the comments on the live, squinting so hard at the screen that you were half tempted to confiscate the phone and send her to an eye doctor.
"Oh!" she exclaimed. "Someone just asked if Alexia always takes this long to get ready-?"
"I don't," Alexia said at the same time Patri said, "Yes."
Alexia shot her a grumpy look, and Patri smiled at her innocently. Clara, meanwhile, continued to move through the comments.
"Who is this girl? Guys!" She sounded offended."I already told you, she's my sister, like… my blood-related sister! We have the same last name!"
Without any warning, she swung the camera towards you, catching you off guard again and making you recoil immediately. "Clara, stop it."
"She's a doctor, too!" Clara continued. "Do you want to come say hi, mana? Show the world your face?"
You shook your head immediately, hiding being Patri. "No."
The words left her mouth before she could stop them, her eyes meeting yours in the mirror again. For a brief moment, neither of you reacted.
"You're gonna make the kid sad," she added, her voice dropping low, the usual cadence she reserved only for when you were both alone.
Mi sol.
Mi sol.
Mi sol.
Your mouth hung open, you looked at the phone, then at Alexia's obvious face. You lifted an eyebrow, trying to signal to her with your eye, "abort mission".
"I- Mhm… S-she can handle a little sadness from time to time," you said back, your voice way too tight as you tried to pivot the conversation away from the term of endearment. "Y-you both spoil her far too much."
"The people can hear everything you're both saying," Clara announced, more specifically to Alexia. She said it with the precise timing of a pest of a younger sibling who had been waiting for this.
"W-what?" you asked.
"The whole… mi sol thing." Then she put her hand under the mic and whispered. "People are commenting about it!"
The bathroom went horrifyingly quiet.
You and Alexia locked eyes in the mirror. Then, slowly, you both dropped to the phone, the live stream was still running perfectly, and the comments were scrolling faster than anyone could read them.
Mi sol. Mi sol. Mi s–
The eye contact with Alexia lasted longer than it should have. She had called your pet name, so… naturally. The atmosphere between you shifted into something awkward, of two people trying very hard to act normal and of course, failing spectacularly on it.
Alexia cleared her throat, suddenly becoming very interested in her makeup sponge. You, on the other hand, found a very tiny spot on the bathroom tiles that clearly required your absolute attention.
Patri looked between the two of you, then at Clara, then burst out laughing. It echoed off the walls and absolutely did not help the situation at all. If anything, it made it worse.
"I-I think I'm going to wait in the bedroom," you muttered, already turning on your heel to escape.
Behind you, Clara was calling your name in a whine,e and Patri was still cackling, and Alexia had said nothing at all. But when you caught her eye one last time, she had her lips pressed together, staring very hard at her face in the mirror to keep from smiling.
You walked back out and collapsed onto the mattress, hoping for a single second of peace. But guess what happened once you settled into the warm and clean blankets?
Salma walked straight into the room without knocking. It looked like Patri hadn't bothered to latch the door when she arrived. Salma, already visibly tipsy and glowing from the win, immediately threw herself at you, wrapping you in a massive bear hug.
"Mira, si no es la otra Serrajordi", she beamed into your ear. It was always a little weird hearing the player call you by your last name; usually, you just hear it around the hallways of the hospital back home. "How was the experience of the post-victory, huh?" [Look, it's the other Serrajordi]
You loosely pointed a finger toward the open bathroom door where Alexia's, Clara's and Patri's voices were echoing. The worst possible," you mumbled while rubbing your temples. "They are on li–"
"Estan en live?!"
It seemed like your worst nightmare was Salmas'greatest joy.
She sprinted into the bathroom, and a second later, all you heard was a mix of laughter, screaming and teasing. Through the noise, you could hear Clara saying that Kika told her that everyone else was waiting for them to go to the bar.
Usually, you were very good at finding your place in things. You were very good at minding your own business. But sitting out on the bed alone, hearing the girls laugh while you waited… felt a little weird.
At the same time you wanted to be closer to Clara and Alexia, you were well aware that the internet would hyper-analyse every single frame of you and Ale together. So, you were taking one for the team.
Alexia, seemingly possessing super girlfriend powers, chose that exact moment to walk out of the bathroom. She shut the door behind her, locking the girls inside, and walked in your direction.
She was wearing her dark blue champions shirt, just like every other girl on the squad. Her brunette hair was down, falling around her shoulders. She looked so breathtakingly pretty that you entirely forgot there were other people currently screaming in the next room over.
"Hey, guapa," she said softly.
She reached down, taking your hands in her warm palms and gently pulling you closer to her. She forced you to sit upright on the edge of the bed, and since she was standing right on the floor at the edge of the mattress, she was towering over you perfectly.
She stepped into your space, resting her chin right on top of your head and pressing a long and lingering kiss into your head.
"Why do I feel like your social battery is gone before we have even made it to the club?" she murmured.
"That's usually my baseline state after interacting with my sister for more than ten minutes," you mumbled into her shirt. You wrapped your arms around her waist, burying yourself in her before tilting your chin up onto her sternum to look up at her. "Sorry. I can't help it."
"Maybe with a few drinks in, you'll feel a little better," she suggested, a lazy, teasing smirk on her face as her thumb brushed your jawline.
"I can't drink," you said with a sigh. "My tolerance is practically zero."
"You can have one," she insisted softly, her eyes filling with affection. "I'll take care of you. I promise I won't let you dance on top of tables or anything."
You chuckled, the tension in your shoulder starting to melt. Okay, maybe a drink or two would be nice. "How generous of you."
"I know," she said. "I'm a sweetheart."
For a moment, neither of you said anything, but then her smile faded slightly.
"You are not mad, right?" she asked after a second, her teasing tone disappearing, turning hesitant, the change was very subtle, but of course you nodded it immediately.
You frowned slightly, super confused at the shift. "Mad about what?"
"That I called you mi sol…?" she explained. "In the live, just now? I didn't mean to, it just… came out."
"Oh, of course not, love," you said immediately. "Of course I'm not mad. I mean, we've been together for months now. People are going to find out at some point."
"So you don't really mind," she pressed, looking way too vulnerable for a woman who had just won the champions league. "Being seen with me… like that?"
Instead of answering with words, you held onto her waist and firmly pulled her down. She let out a gasp as she fell right on top of you, her body pinning you.
Lying there under her, you were acutely aware of the muffled voices and laughter still coming from the bathroom, making the proximity feel entirely too reckless. "Never," you said, looking right into her eyes so she could see you meant it.
"Never, baby, I'm only like that because I love what we have so much, and I want to keep it just ours for as long as we can, okay? And… yeah, the public and the media scare me. I mean… not even my Instagram is public, so seeing this many people constantly watching you… watching Clara… It scares me. But it is never, ever, about you, Ale."
She smiled so beautifully, a look of relief flashing across her face, so much so that you couldn't help but reach up to kiss her. You parted your lips, testing her tongue as your hand came up to cup her jaw, pulling her further down to deepen the kiss.
"My lipstick," she mumbled weakly against your mouth, though she wasn't actually trying to pull away. "You're going to completely ruin it."
"Mhm," you hummed. "Don't care."
"I spent a few minutes putting it on."
"I still don't care, Ale."
She smiled into the kiss and rolled her eyes, surrendering completely as she came back down to press her mouth to yours again. "Qué pesada eres, bebé," she muttered fondly. [you are so annoying, baby]
Even so, she leaned down again as your other hand slid down her back, moving lower to cup her ass over her jeans, pulling her hips flush against yours.
"Want you," you whispered, pout on your face.
"I know mi amor, but we can't–"
Like a bucket of ice being thrown directly over your head, the loud voices in the bathroom became calmer, and you heard the girl shouting goodbye to the live stream.
Alexia scrambled up from on top of you with the reflexes of a true professional athlete. She smoothed down her shirt and hurriedly walked to the vanity, correcting her lipstick with her thumb.
You sat up straight, smoothing down your shirt.
The second the girls walked into the room, Clara immediately rolled her eyes while Patri and Salam exchanged highly amused smirks.
"What?!" you snapped defensively, your voice way too loud and fast. "What are you guys looking at? Vamos, the bus is going to leave us–"
"Chica," Patri interrupted, walking right past the bed, casually patting your shoulder, a look of mock pity written all over her face. "You have lipstick on your nose."
Your cheeks turned a deep crimson. You hissed out and raised the back of your hand to aggressively wipe at your nose, wishing the hotel floor would succumb with you. "Oh fuck me," you said, more to yourself.
"You couldn't wait until after the club?" Salma smirked at you before shifting her gaze to wink at Alexia through the mirror. Alexia's shoulders went rigid, her cheek pink. "Damn, at this point I'm just going to start calling you two Lover girls."
"Please do not," Clara groaned, throwing her hand over her face.
By the time you arrived at the club, the panic of the Instagram Live disaster – and the whole being caught thing – had mostly dissolved beneath the sound of reggaeton music and a few (too many) sugary drinks.
Barcelona had rented out a private venue exclusively for the squad, the staff, and their families. There were easily around a hundred people packed into the space, creating a dense sea of bodies in wildly different stages of drunkenness. Everyone was dancing, drinking and eating… simply having a good time.
Blue and red lights were shining over the room, but they were dim enough that you could barely make out anyone's face, which was honestly ideal. The team had a silent agreement about not taking photos or videos during the later hours of the party, when everyone was drunker than they should be, with mascara running down their cheeks, lipstick smudged, inhibitions lowered, and composure long abandoned.
All the couples on the team were scattered around the club, completely unbothered as they kissed and danced freely now that the pressure of the cameras and public appearances had disappeared.
The atmosphere completely stripped away your usual reservedness, too.
You were tucked into a dimly lit booth beside Alexia, the heat of her body pressed against yours. You leaned your head back, looking around the room in search of Clara, but your sister was entirely occupied in the far corner of the club, laughing and dancing with the younger girls.
You turned back to Alexia. The alcohol humming pleasantly through your veins made you bolder than usual. Without really thinking about it, you leaned in, caught her jaw in your hand, and pressed your lips against hers.
Alexia went completely stiff. She was clearly not expecting it. You had never, ever kissed her in a public place before.
Even if the club was private, the reality of having her mother, your sister, her manager, and practically her entire professional circle in the same room usually kept both of you firmly on your best behaviour, private, but, as it was obvious, tonight you seemed determined to break several rules at once.
The size of the crowd only made it feel more intimate; everyone was so wrapped up in their own celebrations that no one was paying any attention to the two of you tucked away.
When you finally pulled back, the tables had completely turned. Now, you were the one pouting, staring at her with heavy, dissatisfied eyes.
"Kiss me, baby", you whispered, your fingers tightening slightly against her jaw. "Why don't you kiss me back? Don't want me?"
Alexia's pupils were blown wide, her breath hitching as she glanced nervously over your shoulder, but she made no attempt to move your hands away.
"There are people here, mi sol," she murmured, her voice low. She said it as if you had forgotten where you were, it only made you roll your eyes. "We can't-"
"I don't care, Ale," you said, rather bratty, as you shuffled closer until your knees bumped against hers. "I've been thinking about you since we left the hotel."
Alexia tilted her head, an incredibly fond smirk breaking through her as she took in your flushed cheeks. "I think you might be a little bit tipsy, cariño. When you told me you had a low alcohol tolerance, I thought you were being a bit dramatic," she paused. "but… I guess not."
You pouted harder, leaning your forehead against her shoulder.
"I've only had two drinks, baby," you mumbled, voice so sweet you barely recognised yourself. "I am sober enough, yeah? So please... just one kiss?"
That was all it took to break her. Alexia also folded for you, always.
With a resigned growl, she slid her hand gently around the back of your neck to pull you back to her. The kiss lingered a little longer than it probably should have. It was enough for the kiss to turn heated and far too intense for a room full of people.
Alexia's lips parted yours easily, her tongue tasting like the expensive drinks she had also been drinking. She slipped her tongue in, interviewing with you, completely devouring you with a sudden, desperate hunger that made your cunt pulse with need.
The touching and the kissing got dangerous too quickly, and Alexia had to be the one to forcefully drag herself away, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she rested her forehead against yours.
"My mum is here, baby," Alexia reminded you softly, breathing against your lips, her grip on your neck still there. "Clara, too. We can't do this here, alright? Later, I promise. Just a couple of hours and we'll leave."
You whined at the loss of contact and leaned forward to tease her lower lip with your teeth, biting it gently and feeling her trembling. Alexia closed her eyes as if she were trying her hardest to be the responsible one.
You touched her jaw, and Alexia opened her hazel eyes. You looked up at her through your lashes, completely undone by the alcohol and her touch. You were horny, the horniest you've been.
That was exactly why you didn't drink.
"Please, mi amor," you whispered, your voice small, breathless and desperate. "I need you now, Ale."
Alexia's gaze dropped to your mouth, her jaw tightening as she fought a losing battle against herself. You never did this; you were usually the cautious one, the one reminding her to behave, the one who always worried about who might be watching.
But right now, you were looking at her like the rest of the room had disappeared, and Alexia was the only person that mattered.
"Joder, Y/n," she muttered, shaking her head. "What happened to you, baby? Want me that bad?"
Before you could answer, she stood up and grabbed your hand. "Come on."
You let her pull you up from the booth, guiding you through the crowd. A few of her teammates stopped to talk to her, but Alexia was good at pretending she was just taking care of her drunk girlfriend.
"Hey! Where are you going?" Kika asked near the bar.
"Taking this one out for some fresh air," Alexia said, giving your joined hand a subtle squeeze.
Kika smirked, her eyes flickering between the two of you. "Oh, alright."
Alexia kept walking before Kika could say anything else. Instead of heading to the balcony, she turned left to make for the bathrooms. The second the door closed behind you, you were entirely all over her.
You didn't know what had shifted inside you between the hotel room and the club, but something had. Maybe if it was the alcohol, maybe the celebration, maybe watching Alexia simply relax for once.
Whatever it was, it made you suddenly consumed by an overwhelming need to just take Alexia apart, or be taken apart by her.
For the first time, you completely understood everything she had said back at the hotel about cannibalism being an act of pure adoration and bla bla bla. You wanted to take physical bites of her, bit by bit, until there was nothing left of Alexia but you.
The bathroom was private and small, one of those single-occupancy ones. It had just a toilet, a mirror, and a sink with a counter. You immediately backed her up against the counter, wrapping your arms tightly around her neck to drag her face down to yours.
"I'm wet," you whispered against her lips straightaway. "I'm all messy, Ale."
A sudden, fleeting flash of your usual shyness hit you,u but it also disappeared immediately. You knew exactly what you had to say to make Alexia lose that stiffness in her shoulders. Right now, you didn't want her tense; you wanted her to want you, too, to not hold back.
Alexia let out a low groan, her forehead falling against your shoulder as she fought for what little restraint she still had.
"Mi amor," she muttered, a mix of exasperation and affection. "I really don't think we should be having sex in a dirty club bathroom..."
But you were far too whiny, far too needy to listen to her logic or her reasoning.
The alcohol and the unadulterated craving for her had completely taken over. Without breaking eye contact, you reached down to unbutton your jeans, shoving the fabric out of the way.
You caught her hand in yours, your fingers locking around her wrist as you guided her hand down between your thighs, forcing her fingers to press right against your soaked underwear.
"Look, look amor," you whispered. "Look, I'm so wet, Ale. For you, baby."
Alexia let out a sharp moan into your neck, her entire body tensing at the sensation of your warm and slick underwear.
"Oh, cariño... joder—" she breathed, her fingers were already slicking with your wetness as you tilted your pelvis hard into her hand.
"Please, Ale?" you whimpered, your voice small, broken abnd desperate as you looked up. "We can do whatever you want with me once we get to the hotel, but please, I just need you now."
That was her absolute breaking point.
Alexia didn't say another word.
With a possessive growl, she hooked her fingers into the elastic of your underwear and hauled the fabric aside. She lifted you easily, setting your hips onto the edge of the counter, and jammed two of her long fingers deep inside you.
"Oh, fuck–" you moan, your head rolled back against the bathroom mirror, a sharp gasp tearing from your throat as Alexia immediately attacked your neck.
She was kissing, biting, and licking your skin all over, claiming you while her long fingers began to move in a deep, punishing rhythm inside your tight walls.
You were so wet for her; the intrusion felt so pleasing, it was exactly what you needed.
"Who would have thought that my girl would want to be fucked in a club bathroom, huh?" Alexia murmured against your skin, her fingers stretching you open effortlessly. "Any other fantasy you want to tell me?"
You whined, a sudden wave of warmth hitting your face that had nothing to do with the alcohol. "No teasing, Ale. Please–"
"No?" Alexia chuckled right against your ear, her fingers picking up the pace, curling deep inside you to find the exact spot that made your toes curl. "Por qué no? Estás tan mojada...no podías esperar a que volviéramos?" [Why not? You are so wet… You couldn't wait for us to go back?]
You were well aware ( and deeply embarrassed) of how completely desperate you sounded right now.
Having sex in a public bathroom was such a juvenile, reckless thing to do, so completely out of character for you. Under normal circumstances, you would have been the first person pointing out all the reasons it was a terrible idea, but under her touch, you couldn't help it. Common sense had abandoned you entirely.
You were undone, your orgasm was so, so close.
Desperate to ground yourself, you tangled your fingers into the hair at the nape of Alexia's neck, pulling her face away from your throat to bring her mouth directly to yours.
"Aah," you whined into the space between your lips. "I love you, baby. I love you, Ale."
Alexia truly was the softest person alive when it came to you. Hearing those words was all it took to completely shatter her teasing, dominant facade.
Her breath hitched, her entire posture melting as she kissed you with a sudden, overwhelming tenderness that made your chest ache.
"I love you too, mi vida," she whispered against your mouth, her voice thick and entirely gone for you. "So, so much. My sweet girl. My love."
"Not sweet," you mumbled, tightening your walls against her fingers.
"Oh, you are," she said, kissing your cheek, your lips, her fingers working so gently now. "You really are, my love. You taste so good, too. I can't wait to eat you as soon as we get into the hotel, gonna bury my face in this sweet cunt of yours."
"Ale–" you gasped, your nails running down her clothed back. "Baby–I'm close."
"Sí?" She asked. "Vas a correr para mí, mi nena?" [Are you gonna cum for me, my girl?]
"Uhum," you nodded, pouting. "I'm so close… c-can I?"
"You cum whenever you want, my love," Alexia said, "I'm here, amor, cum for me."
Alexia fused her mouth against hers and swallowed your cries as her hand kept moving, driving you toward your climax.
With her thumb pressing against your clit and her fingers thrusting inside your pussy perfectly, the friction became too much to bear. Your hips stuttered against the cold counter, your body arching into her hand as a orgasm took over you.
Your breathing was all wrong. Your heart was beating too fast. Alexia had broken you, or maybe you had broken yourself.
You could feel your pulse against her fingers, still buried deep inside of you; seemingly, she didn't want to leave you.
When the haziness finally passed, when your body felt like your own, the silence of the bathroom rushed back in, broken only by your ragged breathing.
The alcohol-fueled boldness completely vanished, replaced by an acute, overwhelming wave of post-climax embarrassment.
Slowly, you realised exactly what you had just demanded of her in a public venue, and immediately scrambled off the counter, frantically pulling your pants up and buttoning them with trembling, uncoordinated fingers.
You couldn't even look her in the eye, your face burning crimson as you stared intensely at the sink.
"I-I'm sorry. I-" You put your hand over your face. "I-I think I was.. a bit horny."
Alexia just stood there, entirely amused, taking a step closer to the sink to wash your slick fluids off her hands. "Oh, you think?" She said, smiling.
She rinsed her hands clean under the water, shook off the excess, and then leaned against the counter. The way she looked felt too pornographic. She watched you with a fond grin playing on her lips.
"You are awfully shy today, cariño," she teased softly, reaching out to gently pry your hands away from your face. "Come here, let me see that pretty face of yours."
You pouted, stubbornly refusing to look at her, keeping your eyes on the white floor. "No, don't look at me. I'm so embarrassed. We are never speaking of this again, alright? Let's forget this even happened."
Alexia just laughed, leaning down to press a soft, sweet kiss to your burning cheek.
"Whatever you say, mi sol," she murmured, but then, she leaned even closer, her mouth closer to your ear. "But I'm never forgetting the way you came so pretty all over my fingers."
You groaned, mortified.
Alexia stopped her movements to really look at you, taking in your flushed skin and rumpled clothes. Her expression softened into something that you could only call protective and attentive.
She knew exactly how your brain worked, as much as she loved teasing you, she didn't want to actually push your embarrassment past its limit.
"Hey," she said tenderly, her index finger hooking into your belt loop. She gave a slight tug, bringing you closer. "Want me to help you clean up?"
Your head snapped up, your eyes wide. "I said stop teasing!"
"I'm not teasing amor," Alexia said, her voice calm and reasonable, which only made you more embarrassed. "You were very wet, and you always complain that it makes you uncomfortable afterwards, and we aren't exactly at home with our towels, so–"
Unfortunately. Alexia was right, the wetness spread on your inner thighs and dampening your underwear was already slick and cold, ready to become a sensory hell if you didn't do something about it.
"Stop, stop talking about towels and-and me being wet, please," you mumbled, your voice dropping as you let her pull you completely forward by your belt loop.
Alexia looked down. "So… want me to help you, or do you want me to turn around?"
You swallowed hard, and with a hopeless voice, you said "Turn around, please."
You carefully checked both sides of the hallway before stepping fully out of the bathroom corridor. To your relief, nobody seemed to have noticed your absence at all; the party was still going strong.
Feeling tired by everything that had happened over the last few hours, you and Alexia decided to come back to the same booth near the back to just sit down for a bit.
The second you slid onto the seat, you buried your face straight into the crook of her neck, still confused and mortified by what had just possessed you in that bathroom.
Alexia noticed your sudden retreat, but she didn't make a big deal out of it. Instead, she chuckled softly and wrapped her arm around your waist. Her thumb slipped naturally beneath the hem of your shirt, tracing lazy circles directly against your skin while she pressed a tender kiss to your temple.
A waitress stopped by the table a moment later, putting a couple of glasses on it. Alexia thanked her and picked up one of the glasses before pressing the glass into your hand.
"Drink," she murmured close to your ear. "Your lips are cracked, and it's hot here."
"No," you muttered into her skin, completely pouty and refusing to lift your head.
"Why not?" Alexia asked, her voice tinged with amusement.
"I am too embarrassed to look at you right now."
Alexia burst out laughing. "Baby, we have done way worse things than that before... don't be embarrassed."
"That's not helping."
"Perdon, perdon…" she chuckled, thinking for a second. "What about this: You have absolutely nothing to be embarrassed about?"
"I acted completely desperate," you groaned, hiding deeper into her neck.
"You were desperate," Alexia pointed out mercilessly. "Un poquito, sí." [A little, yes]
You rolled your eyes against her skin, your cheeks burning hot. "You are enjoying this way too much."
Alexia's grin was huge, completely wicked and proud as her thumb kept stroking your waist. She leaned in closer, her voice dropping into a smoky whisper that sent a fresh shiver straight down your spine.
"Claro que sí. Te has corrido dos veces hoy y soy la campeona de Europa... Tengo todo el derecho a disfrutarlo." [Of course I am. I made you cum twice today, and I'm a European champion… I have the right to enjoy this.]
☆ A/n: I hope you guys liked it! Once again I'm trying very hard to make this universe as realistic as possible, it's not very easy because I have to do a lot of thinking, so I'm honestly drained from all the writing i've been doing the last few days haha.
but oh I've been having a lot of thought about this universe lately, , ones that would add a bit of drama hehe.... because what if Clara was dating someone a bit too old for her? and oh! Reader just told me she got a job offer in england! hehe <3.....
☆ Summary: A glimpse into the hours following the Champions League victory in Oslo. You might or might not be wearing Patri's shirt through it all, which is a problem for a certain captain.
☆ Word count: 6.7K
☆ Warnings: (+18) SMUT • lot of dry humping • scissoring (again, yes) • boob love <3 • the captain armband stays on during sex • jealous/possessive Ale • mention of body image issues • baby alexia
☆ A/n: keeping score universe!! You will enjoy this fic more if you read these fics first
The Champions League final was here.
You had managed to get a few (precious) days off from the hospital, all so you could tag along to Oslo.
But travelling with the Football Club Barcelona meant navigating a game of hide-and-sick. You and Ale were still very private about your relationship, so much so that your presence in Norway has sent some small corners of the internet buzzing.
Online, the fans were completely split into two teams. Half of them thought you had come solely to support Clara, your younger sister, while the other half suspected you were there for Alexia, your rumoured girlfriend.
None of them knew you were there for both.
It was Clara's first time playing in a Champions League final, and since your parents were far too "busy" to make it to the game, you had made sure she would have someone cheering for her in the stands. At the same time, it was the first opportunity you had ever had to travel and watch Alexia play anywhere other than Barcelona.
Two birds, one stone.
When the final whistle blew, you were in the stands wearing a Guijarro shirt. The shirt had been a very strategic decision on your part.
Alexia and Clara had both suffered absolute meltdowns at the mere thought of you wearing the other's number and name. There was no chance you were subjecting yourself to the humiliation of a half-and-half shirt either, so you had ended the argument by picking up Alexia's phone, texting Patri yourself, and asking if she could sort you out a shirt with her name on it.
Clara had retaliated by making sure you could hear Traitor by Olivia Rodrigo playing from her room for three days straight. It was, indeed, torture.
Alexia, meanwhile, had pouted and declared that you were officially banned from kissing, hugging, or holding her hand until you came home with a shirt with her name and number eleven on it.
You did not cave.
She lasted four hours without kisses, hugs, or hand-holding. You didn't mention it when she finally folded. You just smiled into her hair as she pulled you in, both of you pretending the temporary ban had never happened.
Your plan had never been to go down onto the pitch for the celebrations.
You didn't want fans spotting you and Alexia together, which you knew would happen the second you were within a few meters of each other. You had told both Ale and Clara that beforehand, and they had agreed, after, of course, being babies about it.
But then the fans began to leave the stadium, the medal ceremony things were dismantled piece by piece, and the red and blue ribbons settled in the turf.
That's when you saw it.
Across the pitch, Alexia was laughing with her mum and uncle, tucked between them as if she were a little kid. A little further, Cata was wrapped up with her girlfriend and parents. Pina was surrounded by her mum and cousins, all of them talking over each other.
And then there was Clara.
She stood all by herself, a gold medal hanging around her neck, quietly watching everyone else. It was long past the moment when teammates were celebrating with each other; now they had all turned toward their own families. And Clara's family consisted entirely of you and your brother, who hadn't been able to take time off uni to come.
You felt your heart crack right down the middle, pieces of it falling in the stands. Before you could think better of it, before you could remind yourself why you had promised to stay in the stands, you were already moving towards the barrier.
You showed your credentials to the security guards, and they let you through without a second glance.
Clara didn't see you coming.
You caught her by surprise, wrapping your arms around her shoulders from behind. She gasped when she saw it was you, and you knew it was a sound you were going to carry around with you for a long time.
She was just so, so happy.
The expression on her face reminded you of when she was younger, doing dance recitals. Back then, she would search for you in the audience because your parents thought those performances weren't worth attending. As she spun around inside your embrace, her smile looked exactly the same as it had all those years ago. Except now, with fewer baby teeth.
You pulled her into a tighter hug, burying your face into her shoulder because, of course, she was taller than you despite being the youngest. The edge of her medal dug painfully into your sternum, but you ignored it.
"I'm so proud of you, Clarita," you whispered, "Te quiero, mana."
"Te quiero," she replied, kissing your cheek. "Thank you for being here."
Neither of you moved for a long time, and although there were plenty of people around, talking nonstop, it felt like this tiny space between the two of you was the quietest place on the entire pitch.
"You said you wouldn't come down," Clara murmured, squeezing you even tighter. "You said we would meet back in the locker room."
"I was being silly," you said, smiling up to her as the bear hug finally came to an end.
Your ribs were hurting. When had Clara gotten so strong?
You pulled back just enough to take the medal in your hands, turning it carefully. "I needed to see this medal up close, no?" You smiled. "You deserved it, bebé."
Clara rolled her eyes. "Don't call me bebé. I'm nineteen."
You ignored her completely as you reached up and pinched her cheeks. "Mi bebezota!"
"Urgh!" Clara groaned, trying to escape your grip. "Stop! You are embarrassing me"
A grin tugged at your lips. That was exactly what you wanted.
"People are watching, you know," she added.
People were watching indeed. Including Alexia.
It hadn't taken long for her to find you.
You obviously spotted her before she saw you; she was standing several meters behind Clara.
The moment her hazel eyes landed on you, something in her whole posture softened; a beautiful smile spread across her face even as she held herself carefully still, stiff, almost rigid.
Her shoulders were far too straight, the professional façace held tightly in place. She, as much as you, was entirely aware of how many broadcast cameras were following her every move.
It was almost as if she were waiting for you to make the decision.
Seeing her standing there, her temples covered in sweat that slipped down her collarbones, her face flushed from the game and from being smothered in her mother's affection, the identical gold medal that also adorned her neck....
She was pretty, and yours and the distance suddenly felt far too ridiculous to be taken so seriously.
You patted Clara on the back when Syd and Aicha called her to take some pictures. After watching her go, you turned and started walking towards Alexia.
She smiled at you the entire way.
When you stopped in front of her, you immediately pulled her into your side. You were hyper aware of your surroundings, so you kept the gesture simple, safe and casual.
You slid your arm around her shoulder, nothing more. You leaned in close enough for only her to hear, whispering a "mi campeona" right into her ear. Then you pressed a quick kiss to her cheek.
You hear her breath hitched, the puff of air that came out of her mouth was slow and warm against your neck as she instinctively leaned into you. She squeezed your waist just a second too long, just a fraction harder than any friend normally would.
"I thought you weren't coming down?" she murmured the exact same word Clara had said only moments earlier.
"Mhmm," you whispered, reluctantly stepping away from her, putting a more friendly distance between you. "I changed my mind."
Behind her, Eli and her uncle were watching the interaction with matching smiles.
You had met Alexia's family a few months ago, and along with the team, they were among the very few people who knew exactly what you meant to her. Something much, much more significant than her protegé's sister.
"Hola, mi amor!" Eli exclaimed, stepping forward and pulling you into a motherly hug, completely unconcerned by the cameras around you. "I'm glad you came down! I told you, it's fun being on the pitch after they win."
"Hey, Eli," you said, smiling and kissing both her cheeks. "You were, once again, completely right."
You turned in a slow circle, taking in the stadium, taking in everything.
"Everything feels far too big down here." You turned to Alexia. "How can you even play? I feel so tiny, like an ant."
Alexia shrugged, a soft look in her eyes. She always got those whenever you and her mom were together.
"You get used to it and--Mama! I told you I'm not cold" she pouted.
Alexia twisted away, trying to dodge as Eli attempted to drape a heavy coat over her shoulder.
"But you are shaking, bebé!" Eli insisted.
"I'm not shaking, mama," Alexia protested, already blushing. "I'm just–"
Before she could finish, you felt an arm suddenly land over your shoulder, dragging you slightly sideways.
"Guapa! Hi! look who's decided to join us. Got tired of hiding in your cave?"
Patri's voice was excited; she was always the sweetest on the team. She looked like she had been to war and back, maybe for them footballers, the Champions League final really was war.
"Hola!!!"
Another voice came. Kika appeared beside Patri, vibrating with energy, her dark hair sticking out in every possible direction. You knew those two would party a lot tonight.
Patri's brown eyes dropped to your back, her grin widening as she noticed the name printed across the fabric.
She looked over at Alexia, raising one eyebrow with mischief.
"Look at that, Ale," Patri teased, patting your shoulder proudly. "Your girl knows talent when she sees it."
Alexia's eyes narrowed playfully, her lips pressing into a tight, pouting line as she stared at the Guijarro shirt covering your torso. She looked at you, her eyes shining with that possessive spark you had come to adore. To expect.
Kika laughed, leaning into Patri's side. "Oh no... capi's a bit mad."
"I'm not mad," Alexia countered smoothly, though her eyes never left yours. "It's a nice shirt. It just happens to have the wrong number on it.
By the time you made it back to the hotel, Alexia had been grinning ear to ear for approximately forty minutes straight. She knew perfectly well what the two of you were going to do once you set foot into the hotel room.
The team bus wasn't leaving for the club for another hour and a half, but Alexia did not seem particularly invested in the public celebrations anymore. At the moment, she appeared to be significantly more excited about kissing your entire face.
The door had barely clicked shut behind you before her hands were on your waist.
"I'm so happy you are here, mi sol," she whispered against your lips, her voice raspy, probably from running so much and whatever singing had taken place in the locker room afterwards.
She kissed you gently at first, and then deeper, before resting her forehead against yours, breathing in slowly. Breathing you in.
"You looked pretty in the stands," she murmured. "My favourite fangirl."
"I'm your favourite even while in Patri's shirt?" You teased softly.
"Shut up," she murmured with a breathless laugh, not allowing you to mutter another word as she captured your mouth again, sucking your tongue.
"You won't be wearing it much longer, so enjoy it while you can."
You were fairly sure you would.
Her hands settled on your hips as she slowly guided you backwards through the room. There was something confident in her steps; they were so deliberate and confident, for a moment, it was easy to forget you were in a hotel a few kilometres away from her actual home in Barcelona.
The back of your knee bumped against the edge of the bed, and you let yourself fall onto it, with Alexia following right after.
You kissed her, tasting her champagne-tinged tongue, she felt weightless on top of you.
Her captain's armband was still hugging her bicep tightly; of course, she hadn't taken it off. Once you had told her how much you loved it when she fucked you with it, she had started to keep it. Her heavy gold medal was still hanging around her neck, swaying between you like a pendulum.
Alexia was exactly as good as she thought she was, completely dominant on and off the pitch. The way confidence seemed to be radiating off of her in a way that was equal parts dangerous and attractive.
Your hand travelled down to her lower back, your finger sliding beneath the waistband of her shorts to squeeze the firm flesh of her ass. You shifted under her, tilting your body just right to force her pelvis closer to yours.
"It was hot watching you play," you murmured against her mouth.
You leaned up, caught her lower lip between your teeth, biting into it enough for you to hear a small whimper fall from her tongue.
She pouted at you, her eyes hazy, unfocused. She was completely fixed on you, silently asking you to kiss it better.
You didn't make her wait, pulling her down once more.
"Soy su campeona?" Alexia whispered into the narrow space between your mouth. Her voice sounded much smaller than usual, completely bewitched, and slightly tipsy. [Am I your champion?]
"Si," you whispered, your hand clutching her ass. "Mine, only mine."
Alexia smiled and caught you in a kiss.
Her hot mouth trailed down the line of your jaw, dragging over the side of your throat. One hand guided your head gently aside as she found the hidden and sensitive spot right behind your ear, choosing to brand you there, sucking firmly until you knew it would leave a purplish mark.
A mix of a giggle and a gasp escaped you as your hand settled on her shoulders. "A hickey? Really? You teased. "How old are you? Sixteen?"
She huffed a laugh against your pulse point. "I deserved it, okay? I won the Champions League. I can do whatever I want today."
"Mhm," you hummed, tipping your head back a little further to give her entirely uninhibited access to do as she pleased. "I suppose you can do whatever you want with me, yes."
"Si?" She asked dangerously.
Even without looking, you could feel the slow, coy smile pressing right against your jugular.
"Uhum," you nodded as much as you could under her weight.
"Joder," she cursed, her breath hitching as the absolute submission in your voice sank in. Her hips shifted, rolling hard and against yours as she pinned you to the mattress. "Voy a correr si sigues diciendo eso." [I'm gonna cum if you keep saying that.]
She kept moving against you; it was clear that the confession made her turn absolutely relentless. She took off your shirt, leaving your torso bare.
She pressed her body completely flush, the medal a cool contrast between your breasts, while the rough fabric of her armband brushed against your arm. Her mouth claimed yours once more, her tongue pushing deep, the taste of champagne still there.
You could, somehow, feel her wetness through the fabric of her shorts, slick and hot.
Your fingers dug deeper into the meat of her ass, squeezing as you tilted your own body, forcing her pelvis to drag exactly where you needed. "You're so fucking hot, Alexia."
Alexia moaned low straight into the kiss, then broke it to trail her lips back to your neck, sucking another mark right beside the first.
"Mía," she murmured, voice dropping as her hips found a steady rhythm. [Mine]
Her clit was pressing and sliding against yours through layers of clothing. Her chest was absolutely perfect against yours. She nipped at your earlobe, her breath becoming faster and faster with every passing second.
"Dilo otra vez," Alexia demanded, grinding harder. [say it again.]
You arched up to meet her, your hands roaming beneath her shirt to feel the sweat-slick skin of her back. She trembled when your fingers dug into the tense muscles there.
"You can do whatever you want with me, baby," you breathed right into her ear. "Whatever you want, sí? I'm yours; you deserve it. I'm all yours tonight."
"Ah," she moaned, the medal clinked softly with every roll of her hips. "I want to fuck you nice and slow."
She was growing impatient with the barrier of clothes between you.
She shifted, yanking her shorts down just enough to bare herself before turning her attention to you, working at your clothes with impatient tugs until skin finally met skin.
Finally, you were both completely naked.
When her bare pussy finally settled over yours, your folds parted wetly under the weight. She resumed the grind right away, clit to clit, moving in slow circles.
"Oh god, you feel so good," you gasped, eyes dropping to watch the way her slick coated you, it was so messy, so raw, so fucking delicious. Your eyes landed on her armband again and that only made you get wetter. "Damn, Alexia. You are fucking dripping baby."
"Joder, amor" She hissed again, her voice cracking as overstimulation hit her. "Tan mojada-" [you're so wet]
Still, she kept the pace even, riding the shared wetness, her body soft yet controlled as she chased the edge without rushing towards it.
Her medal continues to swing between you, a constant reminder of the massive victory waiting just outside the hotel room.
Her hands slid up your arms before settling around your wrists, pinning them above your head.
"You get so bossy when you win," you manage to say, rolling your eyes. You loved it when she got more dominant.
Your head suddenly felt so heavy.
You weren't sure whether it was exhaustion, dehydration, or simply the overwhelming intensity of the day catching up with you.
You were so overwhelmed with the way her body was touching every centimeter of your skin, how her kisses were getting sloppy and wet.
She was desperate, and you were, too. Your cunts were grinding, making a mess on both your bodies, the slickness dripping down her pussy right into yours, soaking you completely.
"I'm bossy and you fucking love it," Alexia shot back, moving her body carefully, trying not to crush you, but apply the right amount of pressure to your clit. "You are soaked, mi amor, all for me, huh"
She was, of course, right.
Keeping one wrist pinned above your head with one single hand, Alexia used the other to grip your thigh firmly, spreading it wider.
"Stay like that," she whispered while absolutely devouring your neck. "Don't you dare move."
Alexia shifted you as if you were a rag doll, moving your legs how she wanted until her cunt was aligned to her liking.
"Next time you wear my shirt, si?" she murmured, jealousy still thick in her voice as her cunt moved with yours.
She looked down at you, her eyes dark as she kept rutting against you. "Tengo mi coño pegado al tuyo, y todavía no llevas mi camiseta?" [My cunt is pressed against yours, and you're still not wearing my shirt?]
"Mhmm," you moaned. Fuck.
You were gonna cum.
"Tell me who is going to make you cum," she asked, as if reading your mind, her voice was low as she continued her movements.
The pleasure was becoming so intense, you were going to snap.
Alexia's dirty talk was way too good. Her pussy was pulsing over yours, all slick, dripping down to soak the white sheets between your thighs.
Alexia pinched your arm. "Ouch!" You gasped, caught between pain and pleasure.
"Who is rubbing your cunt? Me or Patri?"
"Y-you," you managed to say, breathless.
"Who marked your whole neck?" She asked again. "Who gets to have you naked in her hotel bed? Who, mi sol?"
The sensation pushed you over the edge right after, your body arching up into her as waves of pleasure took over you.
"F-fuck, Ale," your body was going limp, all warm as the orgasm took over. "You baby, you, always you."
Alexia, sensing your orgasm, rutted her cunt faster until she was climaxing all over you. "Oh, god–" she moaned in your ear.
She stayed exactly where she was afterwards, naked and beautiful on top of you.
Your pussies were still pressed together, warm and dripping. Alexia nuzzled lower until she found your breast, drawing the nipple into her mouth with slow and comforting pulls.
Her tongue flicked lazily, her breath warm and even against your chest as she settled in, tasting the mix of sweat on your breast, while her fingers played with your other nipple.
"You didn't answer my question," she mumbled from your breast after a minute.
"Ahn?" You asked, your mind far too dizzy. You hadn't even realised she was on your breast, when you did, pleasure began to grow again. "I did, no-?"
"You'll wear my shirt?" She asked, her words slightly slurred. "Next time? Please?"
"Oh," you said, nodding against the pillows, your voice still shaky from the climax, it was so… intense. You weren't sure you would ever regain all of your breath.
"Yeah, of course. I mean…" A laugh escaped you. "After this, how can I not?"
Alexia made a pleased sound deep in her throat and kept her lips sealed around your nipple. Her body stayed relaxed on top of yours, her frame soft pressing down.
You realised it was probably the first time she felt at ease and relaxed since she woke up.
Her thumb continued to touch over your nipple, rubbing slow circles before giving it a gentle tug and roll between her fingers.
"We need to get ready for the club," you murmured eventually, your fingers threading through her now-brunette hair. "It's getting late."
She whined softly.
She sucked a little harder for a moment, refusing to lift her head. Her thumb kept playing, flicking and pinching the other nipple while her hips gave one lazy grind that made both of you shiver, your clits brushing.
"No..." she mumbled around the peak in her mouth. "Stay like this. Just a little longer."
"I can't be the reason you are late," you said with a chuckle, still combing your fingers through her hair. "It's not good for my reputation. I'm new to the Barcelona circle, the girls need to like me... they won't if I make their captain late."
"The girls will never think anything badly of you," Alexia said, her mouth finally unlatching. She rested her cheek against your chest, listening to your heart. "You are too sweet for that."
You chucked at that, staring at the beige hotel ceiling. Was it beige? Or had it once been white and simply not been cleaned properly in years.
"Sweet? Me?" You chuckled. "Okay, maybe love really is blind."
Alexia looked up, frowning. "What? You are sweet, gentle, caring-"
You shook your head, a hint of a self-deprecating smile on your face. "I'm not bebé. I'm stressed all the time. I'm moody as soon as I wake up. I'm constantly worried about something or someone-"
"Because you care," Alexia interrupted instantly.
She pushed herself up onto her elbows, no longer putting her full weight on you; she looked down at you with a very fierce expression.
"You are worried all the time because you care about your patients, about your siblings…" Her voice softened slightly. "About me."
You looked at her with soft (and slightly sad) eyes.
"I think you see me in a much better light than I actually deserve."
"I see you just right, mi sol," Alexia said, leaning down to kiss your lips.
"My sweet." Kiss.
"Pretty." Kiss.
"Gentle." Kiss.
"Loving." Kiss.
"Girlfriend.
You were smiling second one. You didn't try to stop it.
"You get too cheesy when you cum," you whispered, a sudden blush creeping up your cheeks. "It's adorable."
"I know, perdon," Alexia replied, pouting down at you without a single ounce of regret.
"I'm sorry I don't get cheesy," you murmured. "But I swear I love you just as much."
"It's okay," she chucked. "I know you love me. This is the first time you have actually taken time off for someone. That has to be true love."
You squinted your eyes, your cheeks heating up even more. "And who exactly told you that?"
Alexia chucked, leaning down to press a warm kiss on top of your blush. "Your sweetheart of a sister."
"Of course she did."
As it turned out, actually getting out of bed and preparing for the night was considerably less romantic than the books made it seem.
Once Alexia finally untangled herself from you, the two of you were forced to acknowledge the mess the sex left on the hotel sheets.
There was a large, damp stain stretched across the middle of the bed. The lingering scent of sex and slickness was mixed with the light breeze coming through the window.
Alexia did not seem remotely concerned about the ruined sheets, instead, she just propped her head up on her hand and simply watched you with a big and proud grin on her face.
You, in response, blushed all over, immediately scrambling for the duvet, dragging it up to your chin to cover yourself.
"Stop watching me like that," you pouted, clutching the fabric tighter.
Alexia rolled her eyes and continued to smile.
She swung her legs over the side of the bed, moving smoothly without a single hint of instability; you were certain you would be wobbling if you had been topping the way she just did.
She walked across the room to fetch the two white hotel robes hanging by the wardrobe.
She slipped one on herself before returning to bed with the second. She gently tried to pry the duvet away from your tight grip so she could put the second one over your shoulders.
"We had sex less than twenty-four hours after we met for the first time," she teased, tugging playfully at the duvet. "Back then, you had absolutely no problem being naked around me… And now you are embarrassed?"
You rolled your eyes, holding it for dear life.
"Back then, I was thinner. But you know what they say, happy relationships make you gain weight." Your gaze dripped over her athletic frame. "Bon… unless you are a very disciplined footballer, then apparently, you don't gain a single kilo."
Alexia's playful expression vanished instantly, replaced by genuine worry.
"What!??" She blurted. "Are you having issues with your body? Like... body image issues?! Mi amor, you are the prettiest woman alive!"
You rolled your eyes at her dramatics. This was exactly why you hadn't said a single thing until now.
"No, I'm not having any issues," you said. "I know I'm... fine. I'm just different than when we started dating and–"
"You are, like, hotter now," Alexia interrupted, stating it so blankly and firmly as if she was merely speaking facts.
"Huh?"
"You are hotter," she repeated. "Because you are my lovely, beautiful girlfriend now."
You smiled at her, your heart feeling warm. The poor thing was trying hard to reassure you.
Your sweet, sweet girl. "Gracias, Ale."
"No, baby, I mean it," Alexia insisted, her tone changing to something so incredibly tender and sincere it made your chest ache. "You are perfect. Your face is perfect, and your body-"
Your grip around the duvet loosened, and Alexia took advantage, finally managing to wrap the robe around you. "And your thighs are perfect, and your tummy is perfect… and everything about you–"
"Okay, love, that's enough--"
"If I could, I would eat you whole."
You blinked at her.
"Okay, that's literally cannibalism."
"Some cultures see cannibalism as an ultimate act of love and adoration," Alexia countered immediately.
She said it with the most profound, soft, tender and deadpan face. She was completely serious, looking at you like a proud cat that had just caught a dead bird and was offering it as a sign of love.
"Oh, okay," you said, as you reached up and patted both her cheeks. "Thanks, my love. I'm feeling much better now. I would absolutely let you eat me whole if it wouldn't result in the complete ceasing of my existence."
"Really?" Alexia asked happily, her eyes lighting up. "Would you do the same to me?"
What the hell kind of sweet talk even was that?
"Oh... yes," you said with fake enthusiasm. "Of course."
Alexia beamed, looking incredibly happy and touched that her (bizarre) feelings were being fully reciprocated.
Relationships, however, and as sad as it seems, were not built entirely on sex and body image conversations that somehow end up in discussions of cannibalism, you see. Most often, they were not; there were arguments. Petty and ridiculous arguments.
Like the shower.
"Okay… we really need to clean up and get dressed," you said, glancing towards the bathroom. "The bus is leaving soon."
Alexia wrapped her arms around your waist, resting her chin on your shoulder. "Let's take a shower together then," she murmured against your skin, her voice dropping to a seductive cadence.
You let out a dry laugh. "Nice try, Ale."
Alexia stepped in front of you, her face collapsing into a (guess what?) pout.
"Mi sol, please?" she pleaded, yes, pleaded. "I love you and your body, and we love taking showers together, sí? Come on, please? Pretty please? You say I'm your champion, no? Don't I deserve to take a shower with mi amor?!"
You stared at her for two full seconds before you folded.
You always fold. It was entirely Eli's fault for creating a woman with the prettier, most stupidly devastating puppy face ever made in the world. Nobody could say no to those eyes.
"Ugh, fine," you sighed, letting her take your hand and lead you to the bathroom. "You do deserve it."
Slowly, the reality of what she had accomplished began to settle over you, a warm feeling took over your torso, a smile appeared on your face, and Alexia noticed it.
She grinned too, pushing you gently against her, one hand sliding to your robe as she backed you against the tiled wall.
She was all over you, kissing you until your knees felt weak.
You caught her jaw in your hand, and she leaned into the touch. "You really won, huh, bebé?" you whispered again, "yeah, yeah... you really do deserve it."
"Your girlfriend is a European champion," she whispered back.
She grinned again before she stole another kiss, her hips drifting a little to yours.
"Ale, no," you gasped, pushing lightly on her shoulder. "We seriously cannot have sex again. We'll actually miss the bus, and I'm not taking an Uber to the club. That would be a proper walk of shame."
"No sex, no," she dismissed the concern with a wave of her hand. "Just a little kissing," she bargained, punctuating the statement by nipping at your chin.
"Okaaay," you said slowly. "Kissing, yes, but under the shower."
You both stepped into the shower stall. You reached over and turned the knob, settling the temperature to your preference. You waited a bit till the water completely heated up and then walked under the water, feeling it soak over you.
So warm. So perfect.
Alexia, still wearing that confident and romantic smile of hers, stepped directly behind you. Okay, maybe too could fit in a quickie and-
Alexia went completely silent behind you. Then… her eyes flew wide open.
Before you could even register what was happening, a hand clamped around your waist, and she yanked you backwaters out of the stream of water.
"Joder! Estás loca?!!" She said, frantically wiping stray droplets of water from her face as though she had just been splashed with HCl. "The water is burning my skin! It's melting me!" [Fuck, are you crazy?!]
"That's the temperature I like to shower at!" You protested, completely bewildered by her reaction. "What is wr–"
"You are making a soup out of yourself!!" Alexia looked so genuinely horrified, you were starting to wonder if the water was really that hot. "You are a doctor, you, of all people, should know how bad this is for your skin! It's gonna fall off!"
You cautiously stuck a hand back under the stream.
It felt oh so lovely… warm, comforting. Exactly how a shower should feel.
"You are being dramatic again, Alexia!"
"I'm not!" she said. "You want us to stand in boiling water!"
"You and Clara," you said, shaking your head. "Dramatic as hell. That's why you get along so well. Exactly the same personality."
Alexia opened her mouth to argue, and then snapped it shut. Apparently, she did not appreciate the comparison to her teenage protege, and got deeply wounded by it.
In the end, the romantic shared shower never happened.
Alexia kept her robe on and sat on the closed toilet lid while you showered, her arm crossed, pout deep in her lips. She watched you through the steam the entire time, her eyes fixed on you, refusing to look away for even a second.
When you finished, the two of you switched places.
Alexia then proceeded to shower at a temperature that, according to her, had been specifically designed for people who weren't actively trying to cook themselves alive.
Not everything is as romantic as it seems.
You were halfway through putting on your shirt when Alexia's voice drifted out from the bathroom, muffled by the glass door and the rushing water.
"You know I gained weight, too, right?"
You paused, confused, with your arms caught awkwardly in the fabric. "Uh?"
After a second, the sound of the shower cut off.
Alexia emerged wrapped in her hotel robe, her damp hair dripping down her shoulders and right onto the wooden floor. Unlike you, she actually had to wash her hair after being on the pitch for so long.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
You silently counted every single drop that fell.
"You said disciplined athletes don't gain weight," she explained, pulling at the collar on her robe, which seemed too tight on her; her skin was red and irritated. "I gained two kilos this season."
You stared, still confused, but then the realisation finally set in. She was still thinking about what you had said earlier.
"Bebé," you sighed, your arms dropping to your sides ."You don't need to do that."
"Do what?' She frowned.
"You know exactly what I'm talking about,' you said, turning away from her toward the small vanity to start doing your hair. "I'm fine, Ale. Really."
"Well," she began, stepping closer. "And you don't need to do that – saying you are fine just because you don't want to talk about something."
You rolled your eyes, focusing on the mirror and and how your hair was completely inconsiderate of the fact that you had places to be tonight.
Alexia didn't like to be ignored.
Predictably, she appeared behind you a second later. For a brief moment, the angry dog in you wanted to snap her, tell her to back off because her wet hair was soaking through your dried clothes.
But then she rested her chin on your shoulder. In the mirror, you noticed how her cheeks were still pink from the shower. She smelled overwhelmingly like generic hotel shampoo because she forgot to pack her own, and the lightning made her hazel eyes look somehow greener.
The anger completely dissipated. You let her stay.
"I love your body," she said quietly, her eyes on yours through the reflection.
You softened even more. "I know you do, Ale."
She pressed a soft kiss against your neck, and you continued. "I never worried about that. You have never given me a single reason to, okay?" you said.
It was the truth. Alexia had always looked at you like you were the most beautiful woman she had ever seen. Always. From the very first day back at her house until now.
"You always make a point of showing it, ale," you murmured, feeling a deep need to reassure her.
"Okay, good," she said, pleased with herself.
For a moment, you genuinely thought the conversation was over, and you could go back to fighting with your hair. But then her expression shifted, turning serious again. "So… where is this coming from, then?"
You looked away from her reflection, or tried to. A million different reasons passed through your mind, but none of them seemed serious enough or logical enough to be the actual reason behind it.
Maybe it was the junction of it all. Maybe it wasn't just one thing. Or maybe it was just you, fighting with that universal human flaw, that dangerous voice that made it hard to feel fully satisfied with yourself.
You shrugged, choosing the simplest answer you could find. "I don't want to talk about it."
"Oh, but we are talking about it," she said, delivering with certainty as if a conversation didn't always need to be bidirectional.
You rolled your eyes again. "Alexia, the bus–"
"The bus can wait."
"It literally cannot."
She pressed a firm kiss to your cheek, then finally released her hold on you. She let the robe fall carelessly to the floor, leaving her beautiful naked body entirely free for you to look at.
She was really an unfairly pretty woman. Then, killing your fun, she grabbed a fresh towel to dry her body off.
"Okay," she said, drying herself and then beginning to brush her wet hair. "We'll talk while we get ready, that way we wont miss the bus."
"Oh Jesus Christ," you groaned, letting your forehead rest against the glass of the mirror.
"The faster you talk," she sang out, completely cheerful. "The faster we leave."
"You are so annoying," you sighed. "And incredibly stubborn."
"And excellent at time management," she countered, clearly proud of herself.
"And insistent," you mumbled, though you couldn't help but smile. "So annoyingly insistent."
"I prefer the word tenacious."
You rolled your eyes at that.
You were quiet for a moment, desperately hoping she would let the silence take over and drop it. But Of course, she didn't. She was tenacious, unfortunately for you.
"It' just…" You hesitated, thinking of ways to put it. "Everyone around you is so... fit. You know?"
Alexia paused her brushing, looking at you. "What? Everyone?"
"The girls on the team," you explained, your voice dropping a bit. "Their girlfriend, your other friends… Everyone in that circle is so into the gym and everyone is so athletic and they all look a certain way."
"And what does that have to do with you and your body, amor?" she asked softly. "They are them; you are you."
You opened your mouth to give a very sharp and pragmatic answer, but the words never came. You couldn't think of a single thing to say.
Yeah, what exactly did that have to do with you?
For once in your life, you didn't have an answer, and you absolutely hated that. You were witty, rapid thinking, you always knew what to say, but right now, you were empty of logic and words.
Alexia instantly sensed your distress, as always, she saw right through the quiet.
"Eres guapísima," she said tenderly, putting her brush aside and walking back over to you and gently cupping your face.
You felt your cheeks warm, but she didn't stop. She leaned down, pressing a kiss to your forehead and then your chin.
"Hermosa, preciosa," she murmured against your skin. "Perfecta. Mía."
You laughed, weakly trying to push her shoulder to hide your face. "Okay, okay, got it. You are like, super, hopelessly in love with me."
Alexia just grinned. "Something like that, si."
She locked her arms around your waist, pulling you against her and bringing her mouth close to your ear. "You will always be the prettiest woman in every room – or pitch – that I ever walk in, okay? Don't forget that."
You rolled your eyes, trying your absolutely best to look unimpressed, but unfortunately, your smile completely gave away.
☆ A/n: I really really wanted to write something "realistic" and domestic about the final, so why not with our keeping score babies? Someone asked me once what shirt reader would wear to a game, so this is the answer hehe. I got an ask a few months ago about reader feeling a bit insecure because everyone around Alexia was so fit, so I decided to add it to this fic. I'm sorry if it was too random, but I feel that keeping score reader would be a bit upset and try to hide it and I didn't want to write a whole blurb around it.
- Everyone thinks your bunny hybrid roommate Megan is the sweetest, softest angel on campus — wrong. You know she's a shameless, horny little menace. Sore tails? Achy ears? All just part of her little bunny business to trick you into touching her most sensitive spots. She'll dry‑hump you anywhere, anytime, all while batting her pretty eyes and playing the perfect innocent act. Once you finally catch on?
Let's just say all that pent‑up tension was... hopping hot.
● (fluff)
● (smut)
___
a/n: figured i need to feed my babies while working on the 3rd chapter of the domme sophia series
__ __ __ __
______
The world you live in has had humans and hybrids living side by side for generations now — same schools, same jobs, same grocery stores, same everything.
Basic facts get taught in middle school: dog hybrids are loyal and energetic, cat hybrids are independent and like warm spots, bunny hybrids are gentle, skittish, love soft things and sweet snacks.
That's it. Literally.
No one ever teaches you the specific little details, the weird biological quirks that no one talks about unless you're actually dating or sleeping with one.
Well, that ended up being the the main reason on how you exactly ended up making the worst (best) decision of your life when you filled out your university housing forms.
Because right at the bottom of the page just as you were finishing typing your details, a little pop‑up appeared:
"All human‑only rooms are currently full. Is it okay if we assign you a hybrid roommate? Please note: you will not be able to change rooms once assigned."
You clicked "YES" without even thinking. You have plenty of hybrid people in your life, you're friends with some, you're acquainted with many, it wasn't a problem to you at all.
So, not even a few minutes had passed when you immediately got notified that you were now rooming with a bunny hybrid.
A bunny hybrid?
Well, how bad could that be?
Bunny hybrids were supposed to be soft, quiet, harmless little things. You pictured coming home to someone who’d share carrot sticks with you, nap on the couch, and keep to themselves. You imagined a cute, fluffy roommate that your friends would coo over.
So, when you finally moved in... you absolutely, 100% did not expect to end up sharing a tiny 12x12 dorm room with Megan — a Holland Lop bunny hybrid who was 5'6 and a half of long, delicate limbs, lean figure, soft curves, and the most chaotic, shameless, horny little menace to ever walk the face of the earth.
First impressions were deceiving as hell.
Megan looked like an angel: tall and slender, no bulky muscle anywhere, just long graceful legs, smooth pale skin, and the prettiest face you'd ever seen. She had long, folded, velvety cream‑colored bunny ears that twitched and swiveled constantly like they picked up every sound within a 50‑meter radius, and a massive fluffy white cotton tail that stuck out from the back of her jeans or shorts no matter how hard she tried to tuck it away. Her nose also twitched nonstop, revealing those adorable whisker dimple. She's got big warm brown eyes that were always bright and shiny, and she smiled so sweetly at everyone that people would stop her in the hallway just to gush over how cute and polite she was.
Professors loved her, your friends thought she was the sweetest person alive, the dorm's RAs called her "the perfect tenant."
You knew better.
You learned the truth within the first 24 hours, and it only got worse from there.
Bunny hybrids were supposed to be calm?
Megan zoomed around the room at 7 AM like she'd chugged three energy drinks for breakfast, jumping over the bed, climbing on top of the desk, doing laps around the couch, thumping her feet loud enough that you were constantly getting passive‑aggressive notes slipped under your door from neighbors.
They were supposed to be shy?
She had zero sense of personal space whatsoever, constantly climbing all over you, stealing your hoodies, eating your snacks, and chattering your ear off about literally everything that crossed her mind.
They were supposed to be innocent?
Oh, no.
Fuck, no.
Megan was literally the biggest horndog you'd ever met, and her absolute favorite hobby in the entire world? Dry humping you. Everywhere. All the time. For literally no reason. And if that wasn't bad enough, she quickly figured out exactly how clueless you were about hybrid anatomy — and she started using it to her advantage to trick you into touching her in ways she definitely wasn't supposed to ask for.
______
It was mid‑semester, finals season was creeping up, and you'd dragged yourself to the university library at 10 AM with a giant stack of textbooks, determined to get at least some work done for once. You'd explicitly told Megan you were studying, told her to stay back at the dorm, told her you needed four whole hours of quiet and no chaos.
And of-fucking-course, twenty minutes later, you heard the soft patter of socked feet across the carpet.
You didn't even need to turn your head to know who was standing next to you.
You just knew.
You don't know whether it's because of her loud presence or the raging teenage hormones that was coming off of her, either way, you just knew that it was Megan.
And you were right.
Becauze there was, all in her glory, grinning wide and bright, holding a bag of baby carrots and a huge iced coffee, looking like she'd just won the lottery.
"Hi roomie~" Megan whispered way too loud, earning a sharp glare from the librarian at the front desk, which she completely ignored. "Bored without me, right? I knew you'd miss me."
"I told you I needed to study." You hissed, flipping open your notebook and trying to focus, already knowing this was going to be a disaster. "Go sit somewhere else, there's tons of empty tables."
"Nope!" She only chirped, plopping down directly across you, kicking her long legs out under the table so her feet bumped against yours every few seconds.
"This is the best table, right next to you. You're my favorite study buddy."
For the first fifteen minutes, you thought maybe, just maybe, she'd actually behave. She ate her carrots quietly, flipped through a random textbook, twitched her nose at every little sound, and every time you glanced over she was staring at you with big shiny eyes, like you were the most interesting thing in the whole room.
That lasted for a few good minutes until the slow invasion started.
First, she moved next to you, dragging her chair closer, so close your knees were knocking together under the table. You shifted away, she shifted right after you. Then she leaned forward across the table, resting her chin in her hands, staring at you like you were a puzzle she was trying to solve.
When you ignored her and kept writing, she slid her chair even closer, until she was practically pressed up against the side of your chair, her shoulder warm and firm against yours, her fluffy tail swishing slow and happy behind her, thumping soft little taps against the leg of your chair.
"Megan." You whispered, not looking up, face already heating up. "You have your own chair. Back up."
"But yours is comfier." She hummed innocently, tilting her head so her long velvety ear brushed against your cheek, making you jump. "And you're softer than any chair. C'mon, don't be mean."
Before you could argue, she stood up, and you thought for a second she was finally going to go sit somewhere else — until she swung one long leg over your lap, then the other, settling her full weight right on top of your thighs like it was the most normal thing in the world to do in the middle of the quietest room on campus. She was tall and lean, light enough that you could have easily lifted her off you if you wanted to, but she settled heavy and warm, her hips pressed perfectly right over yours, her chest brushing against your shoulder, her arms looping loose and lazy around your neck like she was just giving you a friendly hug.
Fucking hell.
You froze completely, pen hovering over your paper, heart beating so fast you were sure it was going to burst out of your chest. Your face burned so hot you were sure anyone walking by would be able to see how red you were, and you could feel every single inch of her pressed against you — her soft skin, her thick fluffy tail resting heavy against the back of your legs, her long legs bracketing your hips, her core sitting right over yours, separated only by two thin layers of clothing.
"Megan! What are you doing?!" You hissed, grabbing her waist to try and nudge her off, panic rising in your chest. "Get off, people are looking!"
"Let them look." She whispered back, sweet and unbothered, nuzzling her face right into the crook of your neck, breathing slow and deep like she was just relaxing. "I'm just being cozy! Everyone knows bunnies love to cuddle, no one's gonna think anything of it. You're just overreacting as usual."
And then she started moving.
Slow, subtle, deliberate, rolling her hips back and forth right over yours, soft and firm and steady, dragging the thick soft fabric of her shorts against you through your jeans, creating that maddening, perfect friction that made your toes curl and your brain turn to complete mush.
She kept her eyes half-lidded, her face calm and sweet, like she wasn’t basically dry-fucking you right in front of dozens of people, like she couldn't feel you getting hotter and shakier and more desperate by the second, like she didn't notice how tight you were gripping the edge of the table, how your breath was coming short and fast and shaky against her shoulder.
You tried to shift, tried to push her off, tried to make any movement at all, but she just tightened her arms around your neck and locked her ankles loosely behind your back, keeping you exactly where she wanted you, rolling her hips a little harder, a little slower, grinding right against that sensitive spot that made your whole body jolt every time she dragged over it.
This... perverted rabbit.
Megan only hummed a soft happy little sound against your throat, her tail wagging slow and heavy against your legs, thumping soft little taps that matched the rhythm of her hips.
"Relax roomie~" She murmured, turning her head to press a soft, sweet kiss right to the corner of your jaw, like she was just being affectionate. "You're so tense. I'm just helping you loosen up, isn't this nice? I liked this better than sitting in that hard boring chair."
Nice was not the word you would absolutely have used.
It was maddening, it was embarrassing.
It was so hot you felt like you were going to pass out right there.
Every slow drag of her hips against you sent shocks of pleasure shooting up your spine, making your pussy throb and ache, making you painfully aware of how wet you were getting, how easy it would be for her to feel it through all the layers. You were terrified someone would look over and see exactly what she was doing, terrified anyone would notice the way her hips moved, the way she was practically squirming on top of you, the way you were gripping her waist like you were holding on for dear life.
At one point, a group of students walked past your table, laughing and talking quietly, and Megan leaned even closer, pressing her chest flush against yours, grinding harder and slower against you, her nose nuzzling fast and messy against your neck like she was just being cuddly.
"Hi guys!" She called out cheerfully, waving at them over your shoulder like she wasn't making you completely lose your mind right now. "Yeah we're just studying! Isn't it so nice and quiet here? My favorite place to hang out with my favorite person!"
They smiled and waved back, cooing over how cute and sweet she was, how lucky you were to have such an affectionate roommate, and you just sat there red as a tomato, dying of embarrassment, wanting to push her away but also wanting to pull her closer, completely trapped by her chaos and her affection.
Are people here fucking blind?
When they finally walked away, Megan turned her head to grin at you, all smug and pleased, her ears twitching with amusement, her brown eyes dark and bright and knowing.
"See? Everyone loves me. They think I'm an angel. Only you know I'm a menace, huh?" She teased, her voice dropping low and rough and only for you to hear, grinding down harder, making you bite back a moan so hard your jaw ached.
"And I can feel how much you love it too. You're practically grinding back against me right now, baby. You like sitting here with me on your lap, like everyone seeing you're mine, like getting off on this as much as I do, don’t you? Like knowing I can make you fall apart anywhere, anytime, no matter where we are?"
You didn't answer, you couldn't answer, you just grabbed your stuff and practically ran out of the library the second she finally climbed off you, her loud bright laugh following you all the way down the hallway, knowing full well she'd won this round, and she'd be doing it again and again until you finally gave her exactly what she wanted.
______
After she got away with the dry-humping this for weeks, she quickly realized just how easy it was to tease you, and she started branching out, coming up with more and more ridiculous excuses to get you to touch her in all the most sensitive places. The next one was even more shameless, and even more effective, because you were completely clueless about hybrid anatomy.
It was a rainy Tuesday evening, you were sitting on the couch eating dinner and watching a movie, when Megan came bouncing into the room, ears drooping all the way down against her head, nose twitching fast and distressed, tail tucked tight between her legs, looking like she was in absolute agony.
She flopped down right next to you, leaning her whole weight against your side, letting out little soft whimpers that sounded so real you immediately put your bowl down, concerned as hell.
"Roomie..." She whined, pressing her face into your shoulder, her long ears dragging over your arm. "I wore my headphones too long during practice today, and my ears hurt so bad… the muscles and the nerves inside get all tight and sore, it's the worst pain ever, I can barely even move them. Can you help me? You're so good at making things feel better!"
You blinked, confused but sympathetic.
You'd never heard of ear muscles getting sore, but then again, you didn't know anything about bunny hybrid biology! "Oh, that sounds terrible. Yeah, sure I'll help! What do you want me to do?"
Megan immediately perked up just a tiny bit, her nose scrunching, her tail twitching like she was excited, but she kept up the perfect act, turning her head so her long velvety ears were resting right in your lap, turning the soft sensitive inner side up towards you. "Just rub them gently! Start at the base, right where they connect to my head, and stroke slow and soft all the way up to the tip. Don't press too hard, they're really tender right now, and be careful with the insides, that's where all the nerves are!"
You nodded, leaning down and gently resting your hands on her ears. They felt incredible — softer than the finest velvet, warm and smooth, covered in such delicate fine fur it felt like touching cloud. You started doing exactly what she said, rubbing slow gentle circles at the base, stroking light and careful all the way up, completely focused on being helpful and gentle, not noticing the way her whole body went rigid the second your fingers touched her.
Her eyes rolled back in her head, her mouth fell open in a silent gasp, her legs kicked out a little like she was trying to hold herself back, her tail went from limp to wagging so hard it smacked against the couch cushion over and over again.
Megan let out a shaky, breathy little moan that she quickly turned into a sigh, pressing her head harder into your lap, her whole body going soft and pliant under your touch.
"O‑oh— yeah… right there…" She mumbled, voice all wobbly and high, like she was struggling to speak. "That feels… so much better… you're doing it perfectly, don't stop…"
You didn't notice anything wrong. You just thought you were being a good friend, thought you were helping her with a real injury, thought that was just how it felt to have sore ears massaged. "Really? Good! Is it still hurting? Should I go slower? Or softer?"
"SOFTER! YES!" She yelped way too fast, then cleared her throat and lowered her voice, all sweet and innocent again, her cheeks and the insides of her ears flushed bright pink, glowing even through her fur. "I mean — yeah, softer is better! Bunny ears are super sensitive, way more sensitive than human skin, so light touches feel the best. You're amazing at this, seriously. I don't know what I'd do without you."
You sat there for almost twenty minutes, just rubbing and stroking her ears, completely unaware that for a bunny hybrid, the ears are sensitive — that touching them like that, gentle and slow and careful, was basically the equivalent of stimulation, that every little stroke sent electric shocks of pleasure racing through her whole body, making her soaked and throbbing and desperate, making her want to flip you over and fuck you right there on the couch.
You had no idea that she was biting her lip so hard she was almost drawing blood, that she was clenching her thighs together tight to try and get some friction, that she was holding back loud moans and whimpers the whole time, just so she could keep you touching her like that.
When you finally stopped, pulling your hands away and saying "hope that feels better now!", she let out a shaky, ragged breath, turning to look at you with eyes dark and blown out, pupils so big they almost swallowed up the brown, her face flushed bright red all the way down her neck. She looked like she'd just run a marathon, or just come really hard, and you just thought she was relaxed and tired from the pain.
"It… it feels way better." Megan breathed, voice rough and hoarse, grinning at you all shaky and satisfied. "You really are the best roomie ever. Seriously. I owe you big time."
You were completely clueless, completely unaware that you had basically edged your roommate, that you were driving her absolutely out of her mind with desire, that you were playing right into her little game.
______
One weekend, you and Megan invited all your friends over to the dorm for a movie night and snacks. Everyone was crowded into your tiny living room, sitting on the floor, the couch, the bed, eating pizza and candy, laughing and talking while some random comedy played on the TV.
You were sitting cross‑legged on the floor, near the couch, holding a plate of snacks, chatting with your friend, completely relaxed and having a good time — until you felt someone plop down right behind you, long legs bracketing your hips, arms wrapping tight around your waist, and a warm chest pressing flush against your back, a huge, comfy blanket draping over the both of you.
And, viola, you weren't even surprised anymore.
Megan rested her chin on your shoulder, nuzzling her face into the side of your neck, her fluffy tail swishing slow and happy, thumping soft little taps on the carpeted floor as she adjusted the blanket over both of your figures.
"Hi roomie~" She hummed loud enough for everyone to hear, all sweet and affectionate, like she was just being a cuddly friendly roommate. "You're so warm, can I sit here?"
"Megan there’s plenty of space over there on the couch." You said, trying to squirm away a little, already knowing exactly what was coming. "You don't have to sit right on top of me."
"Nope, this spot is mine now." She chirped, tightening her arms around you, and before you could say anything else, she started moving. Slow, steady, deliberate, rolling her hips back and forth right against your ass, pressing her core tight against your lower back, grinding soft and firm through both your clothes, right there in front of all your friends.
You froze completely, eyes going wide, face burning so hot you were sure everyone could see how red you were. You tried to nudge her, tried to push her away, tried to signal her to stop, but she just kept going, acting completely normal, laughing along with the conversation, answering people when they talked to her, smiling that sweet innocent smile, like she wasn't grinding on you right in front of everyone, like she couldn't feel you getting more and more flustered and turned on by the second.
When one of your friends turned to talk to you, Megan leaned even closer, grinding harder and slower against you, her nose twitching fast against your neck, her breath hot and damp against your skin. "Yeah she loves it when I sit like this, right roomie?" she said loud and cheerful, squeezing your waist gently, making you jump a little. "I'm just super clingy, it's a bunny thing! Can't help it when I'm around my favorite person."
Your friends all cooed and aw‑ed, saying how cute you two were, how sweet it was that she was so affectionate, how lucky you were to have such a nice roommate. No one suspected a thing, thinking that it was just harmless cuddling, no one realized how she was fully moving behind that thick blanket, that every slow drag of her hips against you was making your head spin, making your pussy throb and ache, making you have to bite your lip hard to stop yourself from making any sound that would give you away.
No one knew that Megan was grinding on you on purpose, that she was doing it just to tease you, just to make you desperate, just to show everyone that you were hers, even if neither of you had actually admitted it yet.
Halfway through the movie that night, you can't even catch a fucking break.
You felt her hand slip down, resting casually on your thigh, sliding slowly higher and higher until her fingers were brushing right over the front of your sweatpants, pressing light little touches right against your core, right where you were already aching and desperate. You gasped quietly, grabbing her wrist to stop her, and she just laughed soft and quiet against your ear, nipping gently at your lobe, her voice low and rough and only for you to hear.
"Relax, babe." She whispered, grinding harder against you, making you bite back a moan.
"No one's paying attention. Everyone thinks I'm just being cute and cuddly. Only you know what I'm doing, only you know how bad I want you right now… can feel how wet you are through your pants, baby, you're so easy for me. Love knowing I can turn you on just by touching you a little bit, just by being close to you."
You didn't know what to say, even if you do, you couldn't literally say anything, you just sat there for the rest of the night, trapped between your friends and your chaotic, horny bunny roommate, your mind completely blank, your body burning hot and desperate, knowing full well that once everyone left, she was never going to let you get away with this.
And sure enough, the second the door clicked shut behind the last person, Megan finally let go of you, leaving you in the living room to head to her bed with a sweet peck on your cheek and a teasing goodbye as if she hadn't just basically left you wet and burning.
______
After that whole fiasco, the next few days soon calmed down, and you could actually take a fucking breather finally. There were no grinding, no dry-humping, no teasing touches.
Thank god, honestly.
Though, that lasted only for a few more days until into the semester, Megan came limping into the room one afternoon, ears drooping low, tail tucked between her legs, putting on the most pathetic little act you'd ever seen. She flopped onto the couch next to you, big dark brown eyes wide and watery, nose twitching like she was in real pain.
Unbeknownst to you, after having her little fix of you massaging her ears innocently a few weeks ago, she figured on why not try out the most sensitive part of her, more sensitive than her ears even, her tail?
"Roomie~" She whined, soft and sweet, leaning her whole weight against your side. "I carried way too many textbooks back from the library, and my tail is so sore… the muscles back there are all tight and achy, it hurts so bad I can barely sit down. Can you help me? You're good at rubbing things!"
You, being the nice, clueless human you were, didn't think twice. She hadn't pull any tricks these past few days, she was actually behaving so, why not?
And you'd seen people rub each other’s sore shoulders or backs a million times, it was just a normal nice thing to do, plus, you already had experience from massaging her ears.
"Oh, yeah sure, no problem. Where does it hurt?"
Megan immediately perked up, ears shooting halfway up, tail twitching just a little like she was excited, but she kept up the act perfectly.
Yeah, she's gonna enjoy this.
She turned around, knelt on the couch, pushed her shorts down just enough to expose the base of her tail — soft, thick white fur covering warm, smooth skin, right above the curve of her ass. "Right here! All along the base, it's all tense and sore. Just rub it nice and slow, okay? Don't press too hard, it's really sensitive."
You nodded, leaning forward and gently resting your hands on the soft fluffy fur. It felt amazing — softer than any blanket or stuffed animal you'd ever touched, warm and smooth under your fingers. You started rubbing slow and gentle, exactly like you would if you were massaging someone's sore back, kneading carefully at the "tight muscles" she was talking about.
The second your hands touched her, Megan froze completely.
Her ears shot straight up in the air, stiff as boards, her dark eyes dilating, and her big fluffy tail went from limp to wagging so hard it smacked against your arm over and over again. She let out a weird high‑pitched little squeak, then immediately covered it up with a fake sigh, leaning back against your hands like it was the most relaxing thing in the world.
"O-oh– yeah… right there…" She mumbled, voice all wobbly and breathy, her whole body going soft and pliant under your touch. "That feels so much better… you're really good at this."
You didn't notice anything wrong. You were too busy thinking you were being a good roommate, feeling proud that you were helping her. "Really? Good! Is it still sore? Should I press harder?"
Megan's tail stiffened at that, squeezing her thighs as she tries to gather her bearings. She was sure that if you went harder, she'll probably gush all over the place.
"NO!" She yelped way too fast, again, then cleared her throat and lowered her voice, all sweet and innocent again. "N-No, soft is better! Bunnies have really soft skin and sensitive muscles, remember? I told you that before. Gentle touches are the best, it helps us relax. Keep doing exactly that, please..."
And, so you did.
You sat there for ten whole minutes, slow, gentle circles pressed right at the soft, fluffy base of her tail, completely unaware that for any bunny hybrid, that spot isn't just some random muscle group — it's one of their most erogenous, hyper‑sensitive zones, every nerve ending wired straight to pleasure, just as sensitive as a clit or the tip of a dick, maybe even more so. Touching it like this didn't feel like a soothing massage to her; it felt like you were deliberately teasing her, edging her so slow and steady it made her head spin, driving her absolutely out of her mind with need she couldn't do a single thing about.
You had no idea that every time your warm, rough fingertips brushed over that exact sweet spot, it sent sharp, electric shocks of pleasure shooting all the way up her spine, pooling hot and heavy low in her belly, making her pussy throb and ache and get so wet her underwear was already sticking uncomfortably to her swollen, aching folds. You didn't notice the way her breath caught every time you pressed just a little deeper, or how her hips would instinctively jerk back a tiny bit, chasing more of that perfect, maddening friction like she couldn't help herself, desperate for even a fraction more of the feeling you had no idea you were giving her.
You thought you were just being a good friend, helping work out a little stiffness from a long day — you had no clue you were touching the one part of her body that made her want to throw all her cute little innocent acts out the window, turn around, and climb right into your lap to grind against you until you both couldn't think straight.
Oh, and Megan?
She ate every single second of it up, absolutely drunk on how sweet and clueless you were, how good your hands felt on the one spot that made her lose all control.
She leaned her full weight back against your legs, letting her head loll back a little against the couch cushion, big brown eyes half‑lidded and glassy, dark with desire she tried so hard to pass off as relaxation. Her cheeks were flushed bright pink, the blush spreading all the way down her slender neck and even creeping up the insides of her long soft ears, turning the pale fur there a deep, warm rose color that gave her away if you'd only been paying attention.
God, she felt like she was in nirvana.
Soft, breathy little whimpers and shaky little hums kept falling from her parted lips, quiet enough that you just wrote them off as happy, relieved sounds, never guessing they were moans, pure and simple, pulled out of her by every little stroke of your fingers.
Every time you rubbed a little slower, or pressed a little firmer, or brushed your thumb right over the most sensitive little patch of skin hidden under all that fluff, she'd let out a tiny, breathless gasp and have to bite hard on her lower lip to keep from crying out too loud, squeezing her thighs tight together to try and get any kind of friction against her throbbing, soaked core that was aching for anything more you'd give her.
Her big fluffy white tail didn't just wag — it shook, thumping hard and fast against the couch cushions and your legs, so rough and constant the whole couch rocked back and forth a little under you, a dead giveaway of just how turned on and desperate she was, if you'd only known what to look for. Megan was dripping, burning, so close to begging you to never stop, so close to just turning around and pulling you down to kiss you until you got the hint, all while you sat there so calm and sweet, completely oblivious to the fact that you were playing her favorite game perfectly without even knowing the rules.
When you finally stopped and pulled your hands away, she let out a shaky little sigh, turning around to grin at you all bright and happy, like she hadn't just been sitting there getting off on your clueless kindness.
"Thank you so much! That helped so much, you're the best roomie ever~"
Megan chirped, bouncing off the couch like she'd never been in pain a day in her life, leaving you sitting there confused but pleased that you'd done something nice.
And that became her new favorite game.
She did it every single chance she got, making up the most ridiculous excuses every time:
"I sat on my tail during lecture and it's all stiff!"
"I tripped and fell on my butt, my tail hurts so bad!"
"It's cold outside and my tail muscles get tight when I'm chilly!"
"I thumped it too much earlier and now it's sore!"
Every. single. freaking. time.
She would keep asking you to rub it, and every single time you agreed, completely oblivious to what you were actually doing.
So, when once, you mentioned it to your friend while you were grabbing lunch, well...
Hell went loose.
"Megan keeps hurting her tail, it's weird. I have to massage it like every other day, I didn't know tails had muscles that get sore that often!" You murmured out, taking a bite out of your food as you started a topic, that unbeknownst to you, would start chaos.
Daniela, who happened to have grown up around hybrids, choked on her soda, staring at you like you'd just said the dumbest thing in the world. "Wait — you stupid bitch! You massage her tail? Girl… do you not know anything? For bunny hybrids, touching their tail is basically foreplay. That's like asking you to rub your clit and calling it a massage! She's tricking you! She's getting off on it!"
Rubbing your clit— what...?
You froze, food halfway to your mouth, eyes going wide. "WHAT?"
"Dead serious!" She cackled, had completely lost interest in her food because she apparently find your misery entertaining. "If you touch a bunny hybrid’s ears gently like that, it's basically the same thing as you jacking them off. They go feral over it. She is absolutely playing you, she's been horny for you this whole time and she's too much of a little tease to just say it! And the dry humping thing? That's literally how bunny hybrids flirt! They rub against things and people they like, it's their version of holding hands or kissing! She's been telling you she likes you this whole time, you were just too clueless to notice!"
Son of a bitch– it makes sense.
"Wait, wait! Hold the fuck on! How do you even know this stuff?!" You sputtered, face flushing red as you try to take control of the situation, pointing your fork at Daniela who was laughing non-stop.
"Um, duh. Sophia's a bunny hybrid too. A Mini Rex to be exact." Daniela murmured, rolling her eyes as if she was stating the obvious. "Gosh, keep up."
"Since when did Sophia became your girlfriend?! The fuck??" You exclaimed out, furrowing your eyebrows.
"Since we fucked." She only retorted simply up as she stuck her tongue at you, standing up to grab herself a drink and to also leave you to contemplate your awareness in life and your feelings for Megan.
Everything clicked all at once the more you think about it.
Every time she'd asked you to rub her tail or ears, every time she'd climbed into your lap or pressed herself against you, every time she'd teased you or acted clingy or got pouty when you gave other people attention — it all made sense now.
You thought she was really just horny, wanting to have some fun and you were her closest target because you're her roommate.
Clearly, you were wrong.
You felt like the biggest idiot in the world, but also, weirdly, your stomach was flipping, your heart was beating faster, and you realized you didn't mind at all. In fact, you'd been wanting it too, this whole time, you'd just been too scared and too clueless to admit it.
You stormed back to the dorm that afternoon, ready to confront her, but of course, as always, Megan was one step ahead.
She was sitting on the couch, eating carrots and watching TV, looking as innocent and sweet as ever, and the second you walked in she jumped up and ran over to you, wrapping her long arms around your waist and grinding slow and deliberate against your thigh right there in the middle of the room, like she knew exactly what you'd just found out and didn't even care.
"Hi roomie~" She hummed, all sweet and cheerful, nuzzling her face into your neck, her tail thumping happy and fast against your leg. "You're home early! Wanna help me with something later? My tail is feeling a little tight again.."
You opened your mouth to call her out, to yell at her for tricking you for weeks, but then you looked at her — tall, lean, pretty, looking up at you with big shiny dark brown eyes, her long soft ears twitching, her tail wiggling against you — and you realized something terrifying:
You didn't even mind.
In fact, you'd started looking forward to it.
You'd started looking for excuses to touch her, started noticing how good she smelled, how soft her fur was, how warm and solid she felt against you when she climbed into your lap. You'd spent months complaining about her being a menace, but the truth was you were just as obsessed with her as she was with you.
And of course, her favorite thing of all was still dry humping you, anywhere and everywhere, no matter who was watching or what you were doing. If you were standing in the tiny kitchenette making coffee at 8 AM? She'd sneak up behind you, wrap her long arms tight around your waist, press her whole tall slender body flush against your back, and grind slow and hard against your ass, resting her chin on your shoulder like she was just giving you a casual friendly hug.
If you were sitting on the couch watching a movie? She'd climb right over the back of it, practically falling on top of you, straddle your hips, and rock her hips back and forth against you steadily, her tail thumping fast and happy against the cushion, her nose nuzzling into the crook of your neck while you tried to act normal.
If you were just standing around talking to friends or classmates in the common room? She'd come bouncing over, push her face right into your shoulder, wrap one arm around your neck, and grind her thigh right between your legs in front of everyone, acting like she was just leaning on you for support. Once she even did it while you were brushing your teeth in the shared bathroom, pressing her front against your back and grinding slow while you spat out toothpaste and stared at her in the mirror, absolutely horrified, while she just winked and twitched her nose at you like she was the funniest person alive.
You tried everything to make her stop, especially in public.
You told her it was weird, it was inappropriate, it was embarrassing, it was driving you absolutely crazy. You tried pushing her away, she'd just come back five minutes later and do it harder. You tried putting pillows or blankets between you, she’d just throw them on the floor and keep grinding like nothing happened. You tried locking your bedroom door to get five minutes of peace, she'd just pick the lock — turns out bunny hybrids were built to squeeze through small spaces and get into places they weren't supposed to be, so a cheap dorm lock was nothing to her. You even tried wearing three layers of baggy clothes to stop the friction, and she just pulled your shirt up or slipped her hand under the waistband of your sweatpants, grinning all smug and pleased with herself like she'd just won some kind of game.
And the worst part? You liked it.
No, fuck it.
You loved it.
You love how she gets so territorial when you're talking to another person, you love how she keeps thinking that she was slick on getting you to try and touch her in not-so-innocent ways, you love how she's not aware that you're just playing along.
That you knew all the time.
That you want her just as much as she does to you.
_____
The games, the teasings, the pretending finally halted when it all came down to a head one lazy rainy Saturday afternoon where the dorm room had been filled with tension the whole damn day.
The sky was dark and gray, rain was pouring down against the window, and you were lying on your bed curled up under a blanket, scrolling through your phone and half asleep, when you felt the mattress dip next to you.
Before you could even open your eyes fully or sit up, Megan was climbing right over you, straddling your waist, her long legs locking tight around your hips to pin you gently in place.
She was wearing nothing but an oversized gray t‑shirt that fell mid‑thigh and tiny cotton shorts, her big fluffy ears flopping soft and messy around her face, her huge white tail swishing slow and excited behind her, thumping soft and steady against your legs.
Even sitting on top of you, she looked so soft and pretty — tall, slender, delicate, all long limbs and smooth skin and fluffy fur — that if someone walked in right now they'd probably think you were the one harassing her, not the other way around.
But you knew better.
You saw the way her eyes were dark and blown out, bright and hungry and completely focused on you, the way her cheeks and the insides of her long ears were flushed bright pink, the way her tail was twitching fast and messy as she breathed in your scent like she was starving for it.
"Megan, seriously." You groaned, already feeling your face heat up and your pulse pick up speed, knowing exactly what was coming.
You met her gaze, seeing the pure want in it that made your heart thump against your chest and heat flood between your legs.
Should you tell her?
You hesitated before swallowing, not averting your eyes away from her, not even a second as your tone took on a more series note.
"I... know exactly what you've been doing. I know you tricked me into rubbing your tail all those month... your ears... I know that's not a massage, and I know about why you kept dry-humping me... Had known for weeks now."
Megan didn't even look guilty.
She just grinned wide and cheeky, leaning down to press her whole chest flush against yours, her hands resting heavy and warm on your shoulders to keep you exactly where she wanted you. "Oh? You finally figured it out, huh? Took you long enough, dummy. You're so cute when you'e clueless."
"I've been basically screaming fuck me! want me! love me! these past few months and all you ever gave me was a tail job." She snickered, nuzzling against your shoulder.
"You're literally the worst person I have ever met." Blush crept from your face down to your neck at her words and instead of pushing her away, you tangled your hands in the soft fluffy fur at the base of her ears, scratching right there exactly how you knew drove her crazy, just to get some sort of revenge for your dignity.
The second your fingers touched her ears, oh, she was a goner.
Megan let out a loud, shaky moan, her eyes fluttering close, her whole body going limp and pliant on top of you. Her ears flopped completely back against her head, her tail started wagging so hard the whole bed shook, and she ground her hips down hard against yours, right against your core, making you gasp and buck your hips up against hers before you could even stop yourself.
"Fuuck..." She whined, high and desperate, her voice all wobbly and breathy. "Okay, okay, you got me! I'm a tease, I'm a liar, I'm obsessed with you! Happy now? God, that feels so good… please don't stop touching me, I'll do anything..."
"Yeah? You'll do anything?" You murmured softly, voice coming out a breathless whisper as your heart hammered against your chest at everything that's happening.
You swallowed again, running your hands down her long slender back, squeezing her soft waist, your fingers brushing right over the base of her tail just to make her shiver and cry out. "How about you stop teasing me and actually do something about it then? You've been grinding on me and tricking me into touching you for months, I think it's time you made it worth my while, don't you?"
Megan didn't even hesitated for a second.
She just went in for the kill.
She leaned down to kiss you, messy and deep and hungry, all tongue and teeth and heat, her hips never stopping their steady, perfect rhythm against yours. She tasted sweet, like strawberries and vanilla, and she smelled like rain and fresh hay and something uniquely her, making your head spin and your blood burn hot in your veins. She kissed you like she'd been waiting to do it for years, like she wanted to eat you alive, her long limbs wrapping tight around you, pressing every inch of her soft warm body against yours until you couldn't move or breathe or think about anything but her.
"Say less, roomie." She purred against your lips, grinding down harder, making you both moan loud and desperate into each other's mouths.
"I've been wanting to fuck you since the first day we moved in. You have no idea how many nights I laid in bed right over there, touching myself and thinking about you, thinking about how good it would feel to have you touch me everywhere, to have me touch you everywhere. You have no idea how crazy you make me, how wet I get just being near you, just thinking about you."
She didn't waste any time, yanking her t‑shirt over her head and tossing it across the room, then doing the same to your shirt and sweatpants, leaving you both in just your underwear, skin to skin, warm and bare and desperate. You ran your hands all over her body, marveling at how soft and smooth she was, how perfect her long lean limbs felt under your touch, how her skin got even warmer wherever you touched her.
Good heavens.
You touched the base of her tail again, just light and gentle, and she cried out loud and sharp, her whole body arching against yours, her legs wrapping tight around your waist.
"Right there– fuck, right there, that's the spot!" She babbled, breathless and desperate, grinding her pussy hard against your covered core, the friction perfect and burning hot, sending shocks of pleasure shooting up your spine that made your toes curl and your head spin. "That's my favorite spot, you have no idea how good it feels when you touch me there… every time you massaged me before I was so close to cumming right there on your hands, I had to bite my lip so hard I almost drew blood..."
You reached between your bodies, sliding your hand into her underwear, and gasped when you felt how wet she was — soaked, dripping, her pussy hot and swollen and throbbing just from touching her ears and tail, just from grinding against you for a few minutes.
"God, Megan… you're so wet… you really were this desperate for me this whole time, weren't you?"
"Mhm..." She whined, nodding fast and eager, her eyes rolling back when you ran your fingers through her folds, circling her clit slow and firm. "Always… every single day… every time I'm near you I get like this, I can't help it! Bunny instincts remember? We're horny little creatures, and you're the only person I want, the only person that makes me feel like this."
"More, more..." Megan was practically grinding against your hand, seemingly in a dilemma where she can't decide if she's going to push her ass back into your hand that was fondling her tail or if she's going to rub herself more forward against your fingers.
Most delicious problem she had ever had in her life.
"Fuck, I need to feel you more." She halted your movements, pulling off your underwear in one quick motion, then pushed you back against the pillows, climbing between your legs after getting rid of every pesky clothing in the way, her long slender body hovering over yours, her big brown eyes dark and hungry and completely focused on you.
Oh.
You have a feeling you were going to enjoy everything that's going to happen from this point.
Megan ran her hands all over your body, touching every inch of you like she wanted to memorize every curve, every spot that made you gasp or shiver or moan, teasing you just like she always did, even now.
"Look at you." She teased, her voice rough and hot and so cocky that it made your stomach flip. "All wet and desperate just for me, just from me touching you a little bit. You're just as bad as I am, aren't you? You love it when I grind on you, you love it when I trick you into touching me, you're just as needy as me, if not , even more, you know?"
"Shut up and fuck me, Megan." You groaned, pulling her down closer, tangling your hands in her soft hair, scratching right behind her ears just to make her melt. "Or I'll make you beg for it."
She laughed loud and bright, grinding her pussy right against yours, sliding through your wet folds perfectly, the friction burning hot and perfect, making you both cry out and cling tight to each other. "Ooh, scary~ I'd like to see you try. But fine, since you asked so nicely."
She lined herself up, slotting her legs between yours, then pushed against you in a slow and thorough grind, making you throw your head back and moan loudly, your nails digging into her back hard enough to leave marks. She felt amazing — warm, soft, slick, moving with a perfect steady rhythm, every grind hitting exactly the right spot, as you forgot every thought in your head except her name.
Her long limbs wrapped tight around you, her body pressing heavy and warm against yours, her ears twitching and swiveling every time you made a sound, her tail wagging fast and frantic behind her, thumping hard as it twitched erratically.
She used every single one of her bunny traits to make this feel as good as possible, driving you absolutely crazy. She was faster and more agile than any human, her stamina endless, able to keep moving hard and fast for what felt like hours without getting tired. She was way more sensitive too — every time you touched her ears or her tail, she cried out loud and sharp, her cunt getting more slick and wet against you, her hips snapping faster and harder against yours, her whole body trembling with pleasure.
She made the sweetest, dirtiest sounds you'd ever heard — soft whimpers, loud moans, breathy little whines, your name falling from her lips over and over like a prayer, mixed with teasing little comments that made it even hotter.
"Feel good, roomie?" Megan purred, leaning down to kiss and bite at your neck and shoulders, marking you up bright and dark so everyone would know you were hers.
"You feel so good against me, so tight and warm and perfect… I could fuck you all day every day and never get tired. You're made for me, aren't you? Made just for my little bunny instincts."
"God, yes..." You sobbed, clinging tight to her, meeting every grind with a sharp buck of your own hips, chasing that perfect burning pleasure that was building fast and deep in your stomach. "You feel so good, Megan. So perfect, I love it... fuck, I'm close.."
You bit your lower lip, eyes closing as you clung against her, hips wildly bucking against each other while your hand squeezed her tail, eliciting a loud whimper to slip out of her mouth.
"Me too, baby, me too.." She moaned, speeding up, her hips snapping fast and hard against yours, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the quiet room, mixed with your loud desperate moans and the scent of sex. "Cum for me, baby, cum all over me, I wanna feel you fall apart for me…"
Megan leaned down and bit down soft and hard right over your pulse point, sending a shock of pleasure shooting through your whole body that pushed you right over the edge. You cried out her name loud and long, your whole body shaking and trembling, cumming hard and messy around her, your vision going white for a second as pleasure crashed over you in wave after wave.
Megan followed right behind you, crying out loud and high, her ears pinning flat back against her head, her tail going stiff and trembling hard. Her pussy grounded down against you as she came, her whole body going limp and pliant on top of you, her hips stuttering slow and gentle against yours to ride you both through the aftershocks.
Both of your thighs were a mess, your mixed release and slick glistening against your skin, hips grinding lazily to ride out your orgasms.
She collapsed on top of you, breathing hard and heavy, her face buried in the crook of your neck, her long limbs still wrapped tight around you, her tail twitching soft and happy. You ran your hands through her soft hair, scratching gently behind her ears just like you always did, and she hummed happily, nuzzling closer to you, pressing soft lazy kisses all over your neck and jaw.
"Told you so.." Megan mumbled against your skin, voice all sleepy and satisfied, grinning cheekily against you. "Best roommate ever, right? Worth all the trouble, huh?"
You laughed breathlessly, rolling your eyes but pulling her even closer, kissing the top of her head, completely and totally happy. "You're practically a perverted old man trapped in a hot woman's body."
"The fuck?" Megan huffed, lifting her head to look at you. "Don't compare me to an old man after I just literally scissored the fuck out of you."
You only chuckled tiredly, pressing a soft chaste kiss on her lips because you can't even argue back at this point, too blissed out to banter. "Yeah, yeah.."
Megan only let out a convinced hum against your mouth, lips lazily glinding against yours before she pulled back a bit, resting her forehead against yours. "Psh, you like it when I'm perverted, don't lie. You'd be so bored and lonely without me. You love my chaos, you love my humping, you love my sore tail massages. You love me."
"Shut up." You only grunted softly, your heart responding for you as it thumped inside your ribcage, beating wildly for the horny rabbit hybrid on top of you.
Here's a nice little fluff before I turn the blender back on for werewolf Celine:
Thirdlight and/or Miyeong bought a sun hat big enough for a werewolf head. Holes are made for Celine's werewolf ears to poke through. They subtly places the sunhat on werewolf Celine's head when she was gardening. They get an unamused look from Celine like, "..Really?" Before she relents and continues working in her garden, wearing a sunhat.
[Oh, the good ole days before they died and traumatizing the young trio 🙂↕️].
Summary: Y/N release a new song that goes viral immediately.
Word Count: 9,398
Request: Yes
Warning: Fluff, Little Smut, (18+), Reader has a P.
Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist
---
---
The internet didn’t explode right away.
It cracked first.
Like a glass under pressure—silent, subtle fractures spreading before anyone realized it was about to shatter.
Y/N’s name had already been trending that morning. That wasn’t unusual anymore. Ever since her debut, everything she touched turned into noise—charts, headlines, speculation. But this… this was different.
Because at midnight, without warning, she dropped a new single.
“Pillowtalk.”
No teaser.
No countdown.
No explanation.
Just a black cover, her name, and the track.
---
Lizzie’s POV
Elizabeth woke up to the sound of her phone vibrating relentlessly against the nightstand. She groaned, burying her face deeper into the pillow—Y/N’s pillow, she noted absently, still faintly smelling like her—before blindly reaching for the phone.
“...what,” she mumbled, eyes barely open.
Notifications flooded her screen.
Mary-Kate: DID YOU HEAR IT??
Ashley: Lizzie. Call me. Now.
Trent: Uh… so is this about you or—
Unknown Number: “Pillowtalk?? Girl???”
Lizzie frowned.
“…what did she do now…”
She tapped one of the links. A music app opened, and the song started.
---
Climb on board…
We’ll go slow and high tempo…
Lizzie froze.
Her eyes snapped open.
“…oh no.”
---
Y/N’s POV
Across the city, Y/N was very much awake—pacing, phone in hand. Regret? No. Nerves? Definitely. She stared at the ceiling of her apartment, jaw tight as notifications rolled in faster than she could process. Streams skyrocketing. Fans losing their minds. Speculation threads already forming.
And then—
Lizzie ❤️ calling…
Y/N stopped pacing immediately. “…shit.” She answered.
“Hey—”
“Did you write a sex song about me?”
Straight to it.
Y/N blinked. “…good morning to you too?”
“Y/N.”
There it was—that tone. The one that made her both want to laugh and immediately behave. She exhaled, running a hand through her hair. “Okay, first of all—”
“—it’s very detailed,” Lizzie cut in.
“I—”
“Second of all, my entire family just woke me up.”
Y/N winced. “…okay, that part I’m sorry about.”
“Y/N.”
“…yes?”
A pause. Then, softer—dangerously softer: “…is it about me?”
Y/N leaned back against the wall, staring at nothing. There it was. The real question. Not teasing. Not playful. Something vulnerable underneath it. And suddenly, all the confidence she had at midnight? Gone.
“…you tell me,” she said quietly.
Lizzie huffed on the other end. “Don’t do that.”
“I’m serious,” Y/N replied, a small smile tugging at her lips despite herself. “You’ve been in my life long enough. You know how I write.”
Lizzie didn’t answer right away—because she did know. Y/N didn’t just write songs. She documented feelings. Moments. People. And this song—the intimacy, the tension, the want threaded through every line—
Her cheeks flushed. She pressed her lips together, pacing once before dragging a hand through her hair. “…you’re unbelievable,” Lizzie muttered, but there was no real bite to it now—just warmth, familiarity… recognition.
On the other end, Y/N smiled softly. Not nervous this time. Just… fond.
“You know,” Y/N said, voice quieter, steadier, “it’s about this girl I’ve been dating for over six months.”
Lizzie rolled her eyes immediately, even as her heart picked up. “Oh really? Tell me more,” she said dryly.
Y/N huffed a quiet laugh. “She’s kind of a menace. Steals my clothes. Judges my cooking. Wakes up grumpy if I’m not there—”
“I do not—”
“—and I’ve been in love with her for a while now.”
That stopped her.
Not because it was new—it wasn’t. Y/N had said it before, softly, late at night, half-asleep, pressed into her skin like a secret meant only for her. But this—hearing it now, wrapped inside a song the whole world was dissecting… it hit differently.
“…you’re really leaning into this, huh,” Lizzie murmured, quieter now.
Y/N smiled. “I mean, it’s not exactly breaking news.”
Lizzie let out a small breath, shoulders relaxing despite herself. “No,” she admitted. “…it’s not.”
A pause settled between them—comfortable, lived-in. Then Lizzie spoke again, quieter now. “…come over tonight.”
Y/N didn’t hesitate. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
There was a soft shift on the other end, like Y/N had straightened, like something in her had warmed at the invitation. “I’ll be there.”
Lizzie nodded to herself, even though she knew Y/N couldn’t see it. “…good.”
A beat. Then, softer—almost shy, but not quite: “And for the record…”
Y/N hummed. “Yeah?”
Lizzie’s lips curved, her heart steady now. “I really like the song.”
Y/N’s smile grew, slow and certain. “Good,” she said. “Because I wrote it thinking about you.”
Lizzie shook her head, huffing under her breath—but she was smiling. Of course she was. Because this wasn’t the beginning. It wasn’t some sudden confession. It was just them—six months in, already in love, and now, apparently… with a hit song to prove it.
---
Lizzie’s POV
The apartment felt quieter after the call ended. Not empty—never empty—but… full in a different way, like the air itself had shifted. I stared at my phone for a few seconds longer than necessary, Y/N’s contact still open, her last words lingering in my ears. Because I wrote it thinking about you.
God.
I dropped the phone onto the bed beside me and fell back against the pillows, staring up at the ceiling. “…she’s insane,” I whispered, but my lips were already curving. Because this wasn’t new.
That was the thing. Anyone else listening to Pillowtalk would think it was some bold confession, some reckless, romantic reveal—but they didn’t hear her the way I did.
They didn’t know how she sounded at 2 a.m., voice low and soft, tangled up in me as she murmured I love you like it was the easiest thing in the world. They didn’t know how she looked at me when she thought I wasn’t paying attention.
They didn’t know the way she felt.
I did.
And somehow… that made the song feel even more intimate—not because it was the first time, but because it wasn’t. Because it was ours—just… louder now.
I turned my head, glancing at the nightstand—at her hoodie half hanging off the edge, at the faint imprint of where she’d slept last time she stayed over. My chest tightened, soft and warm. “…six months,” I murmured. It hadn’t felt like six months. It felt like something that had just… settled into place, like she had always been there and I just hadn’t noticed until suddenly I couldn’t imagine anything without her in it.
And now the entire world was trying to piece her together through a three-minute song.
I huffed, sitting up again and reaching for my phone. Big mistake. Notifications exploded across the screen the second it lit up, but curiosity got the better of me anyway. I tapped into Y/N’s page—and immediately, chaos. Comments flooding in faster than I could even read them.
“WHO IS THIS ABOUT???”
“SHE’S IN LOVE I CAN HEAR IT 😭”
“I VOLUNTEER AS TRIBUTE—PICK ME Y/N”
“WHOEVER SHE’S DATING IS LIVING MY DREAM”
“GIRL WHAT DID YOU DO TO HER???”
I snorted despite myself, scrolling—thread after thread, fans dissecting every lyric like it was a crime scene. Some were sweet, some unhinged, most were… thirsty.
My eyes paused on one:
“I wish I was the one she’s singing about.” Another: “The way she sings?? I’d fold instantly.”
I shook my head, lips pressing together to hide the smile creeping in. “…you have no idea,” I murmured.
But then—another comment.
“Have you SEEN her Calvin Klein shoot?? Whoever she’s with is GOD’S FAVORITE.”
I froze. Oh. That. That week.
I groaned, dropping my head back dramatically. “…don’t remind me.” I could still picture it perfectly—those photos, the way she looked at the camera, the comments that followed, the absolute feral energy her fans had unleashed.
I had been so annoyed—not at her, never at her—but at… everything else. At the fact that everyone got to look. At the fact that people talked about her like she wasn’t—
Mine.
I rolled onto my side, staring at my phone again. And yet… now? Now I was just smiling. Softly. Because the comments kept coming—
“WHO IS SHE AND HOW DID SHE PULL Y/N???”
“SHE MUST BE INSANE LEVELS OF LUCKY.”
“I’D NEVER SHUT UP IF Y/N WROTE THIS ABOUT ME.”
My chest warmed, a quiet, almost smug kind of warmth. “…yeah,” I whispered. Because they didn’t know. They didn’t know what it felt like to have Y/N’s hands on you, steady and sure. To hear her voice drop just for you. To be the one she *looked at* when the world wasn’t watching. They didn’t know how soft she could be—how gentle, how *hers* she was when it was just the two of us.
I locked my phone, bringing it down to rest against my chest. A small smile stayed on my lips. Because for all the noise—for all the speculation, for all the people wishing, hoping, imagining—
Y/N was mine.
Only mine.
And tonight?
I’d have her right here again. Not through a song, not through a screen—just…
Mine.
My phone buzzed again against my chest.
I groaned. “Please don’t be—”
Ashley.
Of course.
I unlocked it slowly this time, bracing myself.
Ashley:
So… we’re all just going to ignore the fact your girlfriend dropped the horniest love song of the year?
I snorted. Before I could even type back—another notification.
Mary-Kate:
Be serious for one second. Is this the same girl you’ve been secretly smiling at your phone about for six months?
“…I hate both of you,” I muttered under my breath, already typing.
Lizzie:
You’re both dramatic.
Three dots appeared instantly. Then—
Ashley:
That’s not a no.
Mary-Kate:
That’s VERY much not a no.
I pressed my lips together, fighting the smile that was trying to give me away—even though they couldn’t see me.
Lizzie:
You already know I’m dating her.
Ashley:
Dating is one thing.
Being the muse of THAT song is another.
I rolled my eyes, flopping back against the pillows again. God, they were relentless.
Mary-Kate:
Okay, jokes aside—
That made me pause.
Because Mary-Kate only said that when she actually meant something.
Another message came through.
Mary-Kate:
We need to meet her.
My fingers stilled over the screen.
Ashley:
Yeah. Before this whole thing goes public and suddenly she’s everywhere with you.
A small knot formed in my chest—not bad, just… real. Because they weren’t wrong. This—whatever this was turning into—It wasn’t going to stay quiet forever.
I sat up again, pulling my knees in slightly as I read the next message.
Mary-Kate:
If she’s important to you, Lizzie… we want to know her.
Ashley:
Also I need to see if she’s actually worthy of inspiring THAT song.
I huffed out a laugh at that, shaking my head.
“…you two are unbelievable.”
But my heart had softened. Because underneath the teasing—they cared about me. About who I was letting into my life.
And Y/N…
My gaze drifted briefly to the hoodie still draped over the chair. To the quiet presence of her that lingered everywhere.
“…she is,” I murmured.
More to myself than anything.
Then I looked back at my phone and typed.
Lizzie:
You’ll meet her.
A pause. Then I added—
Lizzie:
Soon.
The replies came instantly.
Ashley:
Oh my god it’s serious serious.
Mary-Kate:
Of course it is Ash! They’ve been dating for six months!
I laughed, shaking my head as I locked my phone again.
“Idiots,” I said fondly.
But the word soon lingered in my mind. Because tonight—
Tonight wasn’t about family. Or the public, or any of that. It was just us.
But after that?
After the song…
After everything it stirred up—things were changing.
And maybe—Just maybe—I was ready for them to.
---
At Night
Lizzie’s POV
By the time I got home, my head was full.
Meetings always did that—too many voices, too many opinions, too many versions of my future being laid out in neat little bullet points like it was something that could actually be controlled.
My PA had gone over scripts, scheduling conflicts, press timelines… the usual. I said yes to some things. Maybe to others. No to a few I already knew I didn’t want. But through all of it—there was this quiet pull in the back of my mind.
7 p.m.
I slipped my shoes off by the door, exhaling as the silence of my apartment wrapped around me again.
Finally.
Just me.
Well…
Me—and her, in all the little ways she seemed to exist here even when she wasn’t.
My phone buzzed in my hand. Right on cue.
Y/N ❤️:
Still alive? Or did your meetings kill you?
I smiled instantly, dropping my bag onto the chair.
Lizzie:
Barely. I think I signed my soul away to at least two projects.
The reply came fast.
Y/N ❤️:
Damn. Should I be jealous?
I scoffed, walking toward the kitchen.
Lizzie:
You wish.
Three dots.
Y/N ❤️:
I mean… I am the one getting you tonight, so I think I’m winning.
My cheeks warmed.
God.
I leaned against the counter, biting back a smile.
Lizzie:
Don’t get cocky.
Y/N ❤️:
Too late.
Another message followed right after.
Y/N ❤️:
I’ll be there around 7. Still at the studio right now.
I glanced at the time. Just past five. Two hours.
My chest did that annoying little thing again—tightening, but in a way that felt more like anticipation than anything else.
Lizzie:
Okay.
I hesitated. Then—
Lizzie:
Drive safe.
A pause. Longer this time.
Then—
Y/N ❤️:
I can’t wait to see you.
And with that I smiling stupidly. I stared at that for a second longer than necessary before locking my phone.
“…okay,” I murmured to myself.
Two hours. I pushed off the counter, looking around my apartment again.
Still clean.
Still… very obviously lived-in by two people, if anyone looked close enough.
I walked into the bedroom, opening my closet without really thinking about it.
My hand hovered over a few options.
Something casual?
Something comfortable?
Something that would absolutely get a reaction out of her?
I huffed a quiet laugh.
“…why am I like this?”
Because it mattered. Because she mattered.
I pulled out one of her shirts instead. Of course I did. Slipping it on, I caught my reflection in the mirror—hair a little messy from the day, her shirt falling just right on me.
My lips curved slightly.
“…yeah. That’ll do.”
I left the room, glancing at the clock again.
6:12 p.m.
Still time.
I tried to distract myself—turned on the TV, flipped through channels, didn’t actually watch anything. Checked my phone. Put it down. Picked it up again.
Scrolled. Locked it.
“…this is ridiculous,” I muttered.
But my leg wouldn’t stop bouncing. Because no matter how many times she’d been here—no matter how normal this should’ve felt by now—it didn’t. Not completely. There was always that little spark. That anticipation. That pull.
And tonight…
After the song.
After everything it stirred up—
It felt just a little more intense.
6:47 p.m.
I stood up.
Paced once.
Twice.
Then stopped in front of the door, like somehow that would make time move faster.
“…relax,” I told myself.
As if that was going to happen.
6:55.
The handle moved. I blinked.
“…wait—”
The door unlocked before I could even react, and then it opened—
And there she was.
Like she had just appeared.
Y/N stood there, slightly breathless, hair a little messy like she’d run a hand through it too many times, jacket still on—
And the second her eyes landed on me—
She smiled.
Wide.
Immediate.
Like it had been longer than three days. Like those three days had actually mattered.
My chest tightened.
“Hi—”
I didn’t even get to finish.
She stepped in, closing the door behind her without looking, already moving toward me—and then her arms were around me, pulling me in like she’d been waiting all day for this.
Like she needed it.
The height difference made it effortless. I barely had time to react before I was pressed against her, her warmth wrapping around me—her face burying into the side of my neck.
“Hey,” she murmured, voice soft, a little rough.
I exhaled, my hands coming up instantly, gripping onto her like I had something to prove.
“Hi,” I whispered back.
God. Three days. It wasn’t long. It shouldn’t have felt like this.
But it did.
She held me tighter, like she was making up for lost time. “Gosh, I missed you,” she mumbled against my skin.
And this time—I didn’t tease her.
“…I missed you too,” I admitted, quieter.
She stilled for half a second at that, like she felt it—really felt it—before pulling back just enough to look at me. Her eyes softened, something warm and a little undone flickering there. “Yeah?” she asked gently.
I nodded, not trusting myself to say it again without sounding… too much. But she already knew. She always did.
And then—she kissed me.
Not rushed. Not playful. Slow. Like she was grounding herself, like she was reminding herself I was actually here. My hand slid up to her jaw, holding her there as I leaned into it, letting it linger just a little longer than usual.
When we finally pulled back, my forehead rested briefly against hers. “…you’re early,” I murmured softly.
Y/N smiled faintly. “Couldn’t stay away.”
That did something to my chest. Of course it did.
Her gaze dropped slightly—and she paused. “…is that my shirt?” she asked.
I glanced down, then back up at her, completely unapologetic. “Maybe.”
Her smile returned, softer this time. “…looks better on you.”
I rolled my eyes, but I didn’t move—didn’t step away. Because after three days, this—this was exactly where I wanted to be.
Her smile lingered for a second longer before she finally shifted, like she’d just remembered something. “Oh—” Y/N pulled back slightly, one arm still loosely around my waist as she lifted the other.
A takeout bag.
I blinked. “…you brought food?”
She raised a brow, a hint of amusement slipping into her expression. “You just noticed?”
I glanced down at it, then back up at her, a little sheepish. “I was… distracted.”
Y/N huffed a soft laugh. “Yeah, I could tell.” She gently nudged the bag toward me. “Figured you wouldn’t have eaten properly,” she added, tone casual—but there was that underlying care she didn’t even try to hide anymore.
My chest warmed. “…I had a meeting,” I defended weakly.
“Exactly,” she said, like that proved her point.
I rolled my eyes, but took the bag from her anyway, peeking inside. The smell hit immediately. “…oh my god.”
Y/N watched my reaction, clearly pleased with herself. “Yeah?”
I looked up at her, genuinely impressed. “You got my favorite.”
“I know.”
Of course she did.
I shook my head, smiling as I walked toward the kitchen, setting the bag down on the counter. “You didn’t have to—”
“I wanted to,” she cut in easily, shrugging off her jacket.
I turned back just in time to see her toss it over the chair, already making herself at home like she always did—like this place was just as much hers as it was mine. And honestly? It kind of was.
“You eat yet?” I asked, opening the containers.
Y/N shook her head, leaning casually against the counter across from me. “Not really.”
I paused, glancing up at her. “Then we’re sharing.”
She smirked. “I was hoping you’d say that.”
I grabbed two sets of chopsticks, handing one to her as I nudged the food between us. We stayed by the counter at first, eating straight from the containers like we always did when neither of us felt like being proper—comfortable, easy, familiar.
But it didn’t take long before the silence shifted—subtle, but noticeable. Because there was something sitting between us. Unsaid.
I glanced at her, catching the way she was focused on her food a little too much. “…so,” I started casually, leaning my hip against the counter. “The song.”
Y/N’s chopsticks paused mid-air for a second. Then she resumed eating like nothing happened. “Mm,” she hummed. “What about it?”
I narrowed my eyes slightly. “You really just dropped that,” I said. “No warning. No heads-up. Nothing.”
She glanced up at me, already reading the tone behind it. “I wanted it to be a surprise,” she said simply.
I blinked. “…a surprise?”
A small smile tugged at her lips. “Yeah.”
“For who?” I asked, half incredulous.
“For everyone,” she replied—then her eyes softened slightly when they met mine. “For you, too.”
That… did something to me. But still—
“You couldn’t have, I don’t know, mentioned it?” I pressed, though there wasn’t real anger behind it. “Like, ‘hey Lizzie, I’m about to release a very—very—specific song’?”
Y/N huffed a quiet laugh, scratching the back of her neck. “Okay, yeah… maybe I should’ve.”
I raised a brow. “Maybe?”
She exhaled, her expression shifting—more serious now. “I didn’t think it would hit like this,” she admitted. “The reactions. The speculation… all of it.” Her gaze flickered over my face, searching. “And I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable,” she added quietly. “So if it did, I—”
“Hey.”
I didn’t even let her finish. My chopsticks clattered softly onto the counter as I stepped forward, closing the small distance between us.
She looked up, slightly caught off guard.
I didn’t say anything else—just moved.
One second I was standing in front of her—the next, I was settling onto her lap, turning slightly so I was facing her properly.
Her hands instinctively came to my waist, steadying me.
“Liz—”
“I liked it,” I said immediately.
She blinked.
“…what?”
“I liked the song,” I repeated, softer this time, my hands resting lightly on her shoulders. “A lot.”
Something in her expression shifted—like tension she hadn’t even realized she was holding started to ease.
“You did?” she asked, almost careful.
I nodded, a small smile pulling at my lips.
“Yeah.”
Her thumbs brushed absently against my sides, grounding, but there was still a hint of uncertainty in her eyes.
“…it didn’t freak you out?” she asked.
I shook my head.
“No.”
A pause. Then, quieter—“It’s not the first time you’ve said those things to me,” I added. “It’s just… the first time the world heard it too.”
Y/N watched me for a second, really watched me.
“…and you’re okay with that?” she asked.
I held her gaze.
There was still that carefulness in her eyes—like she was bracing for something, like she didn’t want to push too far.
God.
She really didn’t get it sometimes.
My hands slid up slightly on her shoulders, grounding myself before I spoke.
“I love you too,” I said softly.
The words landed between us—familiar, but still heavy in the best way. Her breath caught just a little.
And I didn’t look away.
“I’ve loved you,” I continued, quieter but steadier now. “This doesn’t change that.”
Her eyes searched mine, like she was making sure—really making sure.
So I gave her more.
“And I don’t care if the world knows about us,” I added.
That did it.
I felt the shift in her hands immediately—tightening just slightly at my waist, like something in her had finally settled.
“Lizzie…” she murmured.
“I mean it,” I said, brushing my thumb lightly along her shoulder. “Yeah, it’s a lot. And yeah, people are going to talk and speculate and be… insane.”
That pulled the faintest smile from her.
“But they already are,” I added softly. “And none of that changes what this is.”
I leaned in just a little closer.
“What we are.”
Her gaze dropped briefly to my lips, then back up again. Something warm. Something certain.
“…you sure?” she asked, almost like she needed to hear it one more time.
I smiled.
“Yeah.”
A small pause.
Then, a little teasing—because I couldn’t help it:
“Besides,” I murmured, “if you’re going to write songs like that about me…”
Her lips twitched.
“…kind of hard to stay a secret.”
She let out a quiet breath, somewhere between a laugh and something more emotional.
“Fair point,” she said.
But then her expression softened again, deeper this time.
More real.
Her hand came up, brushing lightly against my cheek.
“…I meant what I said too,” she murmured.
“I know.”
And I did.
Because I could feel it—
In the way she held me.
In the way she looked at me.
In everything she didn’t even have to say anymore.
Her forehead rested briefly against mine.
“…you’re really okay with this?” she asked one last time.
I didn’t hesitate.
“I’m okay with you.”
That was the answer. That had always been the answer. And whatever came with it—the world, the noise, the attention—
None of it mattered as much as this.
As her.
Y/N smiled then. Not the confident, teasing smile the world knew. Something softer. Something only I got to see.
“…come here,” she murmured.
I was already there.
Her lips were already on mine before I could say anything else.
This time, it wasn’t slow. It wasn’t careful.
It deepened almost immediately—like something that had been building all day, all week, all three days apart finally snapping into place.
I inhaled sharply against her, my hands sliding up into her hair as hers tightened at my waist, pulling me closer—closer—until there was barely any space left between us.
“Y/N…” I breathed, but it came out softer than I intended.
She answered by tilting her head, kissing me deeper, more certain—like she didn’t want to stop now that she had me again.
And I didn’t want her to.
God, I didn’t.
My fingers curled slightly in her hair, holding her there as I leaned into it, completely giving in to the warmth, the familiarity, the pull of her.
Her hands shifted—one pressing firmer against my lower back, grounding me, keeping me right where she wanted me.
And somewhere in the middle of it, I start to grind down on her lap.
It wasn’t intentional. Not really. Just instinct. Just the way my body reacted to hers—
The way I shifted on her lap, closer, seeking more without even thinking about it.
A soft, breathless sound slipped out of me before I could stop it. The sound was barely more than a ghost, but in the quiet of the kitchen, it felt deafening.
Y/N let out a low, rough groan against my mouth, and I felt it everywhere—vibrating through my chest, settling deep in my stomach. It was raw, unfiltered want. The kind of sound that never belonged in public, never belonged to the polished version of us the world saw.
Hearing it now, after everything today, made something in my blood spark.
I didn’t pull away. I leaned into it.
My hands tightened in her hair, and I started to move—slow, deliberate. A gentle roll of my hips, pressing myself down into the heat of her lap, testing, teasing.
Y/N hands, steady on my waist just seconds ago, suddenly gripped harder. Fingers digging into the fabric of the shirt—her shirt—that I was wearing.
“Lizzie,” she rasped.
Her voice cracked just slightly as she pulled back an inch, her forehead still resting against mine. Her breathing was uneven, her eyes dark and completely locked onto me.
I didn’t stop.
If anything, I slowed down, making every movement count. Every shift of my hips more intentional, more precise.
And then I felt it.
That firm, growing pressure beneath me—impossible to miss, impossible to misunderstand. The heat of her, even through the denim, sending a sharp, electric feeling straight through me.
My lips curved before I could stop them.
Not soft. Not shy.
A smirk.
Because I knew exactly what I was doing to her.
“Oh…” I whispered, letting it trail into a quiet hum as I shifted again, deliberately chasing that friction. “Is that for me?”
Her eyes fluttered shut, her jaw tightening like she was trying to hold herself together—and failing.
Another groan slipped out of her, deeper this time.
“You know it is,” she managed, her hands sliding from my waist down to my hips, guiding me—or maybe just holding on. “God, Lizzie… you’re going to be the death of me.”
I let out a quiet, breathy chuckle, the sound brushing right against her lips.
Leaning in, I nipped lightly at her jaw before murmuring into her ear, “Good. Because after that song… I think you owe me.”
I pressed down once more—slow, firm—feeling the way her breath hitched, the way her whole body reacted under me.
The rest of the world could keep talking, guessing, analyzing. Right here, in this dim kitchen—there was only one thing that mattered.
And I was sitting right on top of it.
The heat in the kitchen had become too much—too consuming, too intense to stay contained against the counter. I barely remember how we moved, only that I didn’t let her go for more than a second before we ended up in the living room, collapsing together onto the couch.
The change of space didn’t cool anything down. It made it worse.
The kiss deepened instantly—hungrier, more desperate—like the three days apart had left something aching under my skin that only she could fix. My hands moved over her without thinking, tracing the lines of her body through her clothes, relearning, needing more.
Too much fabric.
I grabbed the hem of her shirt and pulled it up, the motion urgent, wordless. She understood immediately, breaking the kiss just long enough to lift her arms so I could drag it over her head and toss it somewhere behind me.
The second her skin was bare, she was back on me—her mouth crashing into mine with a force that made my head spin.
Then it was my turn.
Her hands found the bottom of the oversized shirt I was wearing—her shirt—and tugged it up and off. The moment it cleared my head, our skin met, and—
God.
It was like fire.
I let out a shaky breath as I settled back into her lap, straddling her, my chest rising and falling against hers. Without the layers between us, everything felt sharper. Every movement, every shift of my hips—
I felt her.
Firm. Heavy. Pressing through the denim of her jeans. Familiar.
My lips curved slightly despite how unsteady my breathing had become.
“You’re so desperate for me tonight,” I murmured against her mouth, the smirk slipping back into place even as my voice came out softer than I intended.
Her hands slid down to the small of my back, pulling me closer—flush against her.
“Can you blame me?” she breathed. “I spent twelve hours in a booth singing about exactly this. Having the real thing is… a lot better.”
Then she moved.
Her hips tilted up, pressing against me in a way that made my head fall back, a sharp gasp tearing out of my throat before I could stop it. The directness of it—the way she reacted to me so openly, so unapologetically—it sent a rush straight through me.
My hands moved on instinct, fumbling slightly in my haste as I reached for the button of her jeans. I popped it open, dragging the zipper down, the sound loud in the otherwise quiet room.
She exhaled—long, shaky—as she was released from the constraint of the denim, the tension eased.
And I felt it. Her cock, already slick and aching, sprang free, pulsing against my stomach. My eyes dropped, my breath catching as I took her in, my hand moving almost automatically, wrapping around her—warm. Soft. Alive under my touch.
I tightened my grip, drawing a slow, deliberate stroke that pulled a broken sound from her.
“Lizzie…” she warned, her head dropping on my shoulder, her voice strained.
“I’ve got you,” I murmured, my voice dropping—lower, steadier, something possessive threading through it without effort. I shifted slightly, moving in a way that teased both of us, letting the contact build just enough to make her react again.
“I’ve got you,” I repeated softly, closer this time, my lips brushing near her ear. “And I’m not going anywhere.” The “soon” I’d promised earlier—everything waiting outside this moment—felt impossibly far away. Right now, none of that existed. No public. No expectations. No noise. Just her beneath me—and the undeniable, electric reality of us.
The air felt thick—heavy with the scent of us, with everything that had been building since that song dropped at midnight.
I didn’t slow my hand.
I kept that same steady rhythm—firm, knowing—and I felt the exact moment her composure started to crack. She leaned into me, her hips lifting instinctively into my touch, like she couldn’t help it anymore. Our kiss turned messy—desperate, teeth catching, breath mixing—until she pulled away, like she needed air just as much as she needed more of me.
Then her face was in my neck.
Her breath hit hot and uneven against my skin, and I shivered as she started moving—slowly, deliberately—her lips dragging along my jaw, then down my throat. Every small bite, every soft press of her tongue after, pulled sharp, shaky breaths out of me before I could stop them.
“Don’t stop,” she murmured against my skin.
I felt it more than I heard it.
“God, Lizzie… don’t stop.”
I wasn’t going to. My grip tightened, my thumb sweeping over the crown of Y/N’s cock, catching the beads of moisture gathering there. I watched her—really watched her—the way her eyes rolled back, the tension in her arms as she braced herself against the couch.
It did something to me.Seeing her like that. Undone. Because of me.
But she wasn’t the only one losing control.
Her hands moved over me, sliding up my sides, fingers spreading over my ribs like she was feeling everything—my breath, my heartbeat. Then higher, thumbs brushing just beneath my breasts before her mouth followed.
I gasped softly, my head tipping back as she moved lower, her kisses turning slower, heavier, more deliberate along my collarbone. My fingers tightened in her hair, holding her there without even thinking.
And when Y/N reached my chest—She didn’t hesitate. The moment her mouth closed around my nipple, her tongue moving in a way that sent a sharp, direct pulse straight through me—I gasped, my hips jerking forward on instinct.
The movement pressed me harder against the base of Y/N’s pulsing length, the friction sudden and overwhelming, and for a second it was almost too much.
But I didn’t stop. If anything, I sped up. My hand moved faster, more urgent now, feeling the way she was swelling, the way everything in her was starting to give.
I could feel it—the way she was winding up again, every small break in her control finally collapsing into something much sharper, much heavier. And I held onto it. Pushing her right to the edge.
The room felt smaller, like everything had narrowed down to just us—the sound of our breathing, heavy and uneven, and the soft brush of skin against skin.
I barely had time to think before her hands moved to the clasp of my bra. Even with the slight tremor in her fingers, she was sure, steady. A quick flick—and it gave way, the lace loosening and falling from me. Y/N pulled back just enough to reach for the clasp of my bra, her fingers sure and steady despite the slight tremor of adrenaline. With a deft flick, she released it, letting the lace fall away.
A sharp, cut-off gasp slipped from my lips.
Y/N’s mouth was on me immediately—warm, firm, claiming—while her hand cupped the other one. The sensation hit all at once, overwhelming and grounding at the same time, like the only thing keeping me tethered while everything else blurred.
My hand never stopped. Still wrapped around her, still moving—firm, slick—feeling every pulse, every shift in her as she reacted. My other hand stayed tangled in her hair, holding her there, silently urging her not to stop.
“God, you’re so good to me,” she groaned against my skin. I felt it more than I heard it, the vibration running straight through me. She pulled back just enough to look at me, her eyes dark—heavy with something deeper than just want.
“Lizzie, you’re perfect. Everything about you.”
The smirk I’d been holding onto slipped away. All I could do was look at her, breathless, my chest rising and falling as I felt the way she harder and harder beneath me—the tension building in her thighs, her breathing turning sharp, uneven. Her cock starting to throb in my hand.
“Lizzie… I’m close,” she rasped, her voice breaking. “I’m so close.”
I didn’t answer. I just tightened my grip. My hand moved faster, more focused, every movement deliberate as I pushed her closer. My thumb brushed the crown focusing there, and her head fell back to my shoulder, a deep, raw sound tearing from her.
Then suddenly—
She surged forward, pulling me into a kiss that stole whatever breath I had left.
And I felt it. Her whole body tensed, a sharp shudder running through her as a hot, heavy release coated my fingers as she came in my hand—hot, overwhelming, the force of it making her go weak against me. She collapsed into me, arms wrapping tight, almost desperate, her face pressed into my shoulder as she rode it out.
I held her there, my own breathing uneven, my heart pounding against hers. For a moment, neither of us moved. Just that—our hearts racing, bodies pressed together.
Then she shifted.
Before I could react, her arms hooked under my thighs and she flipped us in one smooth motion. A breathless laugh escaped me as I landed back against the couch, her body now above mine.
Y/N reached for her bra, tossing it aside like it didn’t matter anymore, her hands already moving to the waistband of my jeans. I looked up at her—and the look in her eyes made my breath catch again.
Bright. Focused. Dangerous in a way I knew meant I was in trouble.
“My turn,” she whispered, her smile slow, certain.
My breath hitched as I felt her tug at my jeans, my heart already racing for what came next.
---
Next Morning
The next morning came softly—warm, quiet.
And then—
Ding dong.
I groaned, my face still buried somewhere warm and familiar. “…no,” I mumbled, voice thick with sleep.
Ding dong.
I shifted slightly—and that’s when I realized.
I wasn’t in bed.
I was… on the couch.
More specifically—on Y/N.
My eyes blinked open slowly, adjusting to the soft morning light spilling through the windows. Y/N was still asleep beneath me, completely still except for the steady rise and fall of her chest. One arm was wrapped securely around my back, the other resting loosely at my side, like even in her sleep she hadn’t wanted to let me go.
And we were—
Oh.
Right.
Naked.
I huffed a quiet, sleepy laugh, my lips curving as I took her in. “…you’re going to have the worst back pain,” I murmured softly. Because somehow, at some point, we’d ended up here—half tangled, half collapsed—falling asleep in the middle of everything. There was a blanket thrown over us, barely covering anything, like one of us had tried… and then given up halfway.
I didn’t remember when. Or how. I must’ve passed out.
But still—she’d held onto me. Even like this.
My fingers lifted, brushing gently through her hair, slow and careful. God. She looked peaceful. Soft in a way the world never got to see.
Ding dong.
I groaned again, dropping my forehead lightly against her shoulder. “…whoever that is, I hate them.”
The bell rang again. Persistent. Annoying. Very much not going away.
I sighed, reluctantly pushing myself up—careful not to wake her as I slipped out of her arms. She shifted slightly at the loss, brow furrowing just a little, but didn’t wake. “Sorry,” I whispered, pressing a quick kiss to her shoulder.
Then I stood.
And immediately paused.
“…oh my god.”
The living room was a mess. Clothes everywhere—on the floor, on the couch, half hanging off the table. And—
I pressed my lips together, trying, and failing, not to smile. Used condoms. Two on the floor, one definitely on the coffee table, wrappers scattered around like we hadn’t even tried to be discreet.
“…wow,” I muttered under my breath.
I shook my head, heat creeping up my neck despite everything. “…okay.”
Grabbing a robe quickly, I slipped it on and tied it tight before making my way to the door, running a hand through my hair in a half-hearted attempt to look presentable.
Ding dong.
“I’m coming!” I called, still a little hoarse. I reached for the handle, pulling the door open—and froze.
“…oh my god.”
There she was. Mary-Kate. Standing on my doorstep like she hadn’t just flown across the country on a mission, looking way too pleased with herself.
Her eyes flicked over me instantly—taking in the robe, the messy hair, the very obvious context. Her lips curved. “Well,” she said casually. “Good morning.” She leaned slightly to peek past me into the apartment. “…I came to meet your girlfriend,” she added, far too calm.
I just stared at her.
“…you said soon,” she continued, completely unapologetic. “I interpreted that as immediately.”
I blinked once. Twice. Then glanced back over my shoulder—at the very naked, very asleep singer currently on my couch, and the very incriminating state of my living room—then back at her.
“…you have got to be kidding me.”
Mary-Kate’s smile only grew. “Oh, this is going to be fun.”
I immediately stepped out just enough to block the doorway. “No,” I said quickly. “No, it’s not. You can’t just—show up like this—”
“Lizzie,” Mary-Kate cut in, already trying to peek around me again, “you’re wearing a robe at”—she checked her phone—“eight in the morning.” She tilted her head slightly, eyes narrowing just enough to take in the details. “…and your hair looks like that.”
I deadpanned. “Thank you.”
Her smirk turned sharper. “So she’s here.”
I crossed my arms. “That is not the point.”
“That is exactly the point.”
She leaned a little closer, lowering her voice just enough to make it worse. “…I can smell it.”
I froze. “…you can—what?”
Mary-Kate waved a hand vaguely. “Not literally. Just—” she gestured toward me, then past me—“the vibe.”
I stared at her. “…you’re insane.”
“Move,” she said simply.
“No.”
“Lizzie.”
“No.”
A beat.
Then Mary-Kate spoke again, calm as ever—“Is she naked?”
I choked. “Okay—nope—conversation over.”
Her eyes lit up. “Oh my god, she is.”
I pressed my lips together, trying very hard not to laugh and scream at the same time. “You are not coming in here right now,” I said, lowering my voice. “She’s asleep.”
That made her pause. A small shift. Because despite everything—she wasn’t completely heartless.
“…I flew all the way here,” Mary-Kate said, softer this time—but still stubborn.
“And you’ll survive waiting five minutes,” I shot back.
She studied me for a second. Then, unexpectedly—she smiled. Small. Knowing.
“…you really like her,” she said.
I didn’t hesitate. “Yeah.”
No deflection. No teasing. Just—yeah.
Her expression softened, just for a second. “…okay,” she said, holding her hands up slightly. “I’ll behave.”
I narrowed my eyes. “You don’t know how to behave.”
“That’s fair,” she admitted.
I sighed, running a hand through my hair. “…give me a minute.”
She nodded—reluctantly.
I stepped back inside, closing the door just enough to leave them outside, then leaned against it for half a second. “…oh my god,” I whispered to myself.
Then I pushed off and turned—and immediately softened. Because there she was. Still on the couch. Still asleep. Barely shifted from where I left her, except now one arm was stretched out where I had been, like she’d reached for me even in her sleep.
My chest tightened.
“…hey,” I murmured quietly, walking back over. I crouched beside Y/N, brushing my fingers gently through her hair again.
She stirred this time—brows furrowing slightly before her eyes blinked open, slow and heavy with sleep. “…Lizzie?” she mumbled, voice rough.
“Hi.”
She squinted up at me, clearly still half asleep. “…what time is it?”
“Too early,” I said.
That earned a faint, sleepy huff from her. Then her gaze focused a little more. “…why are you dressed?”
I smiled despite myself. “Because—”
I didn’t get to finish.
Her hand caught my wrist, tugging me forward before I could react. A soft yelp left me as I lost my balance, landing right back on top of her, the blanket shifting around us. “Y/N—” I started, but it came out more breath than protest. She was already smiling—sleepy, warm, dangerous in that quiet way of hers.
“Mm,” she hummed, eyes still half-lidded as her hands settled at my waist. “You left.”
“I was gone for like—two minutes,” I said, but my voice softened automatically as she pulled me closer.
“Too long,” she murmured.
Her fingers brushed the edge of my robe, slowly, like she was rediscovering me all over again. My breath caught slightly.
“Y/N…” I warned, though there wasn’t much strength behind it.
She looked up at me, a small smirk tugging at her lips.
“What?”
Her hands slid a little higher, pushing the robe open just enough to expose my shoulder. “You are not supposed to wear this yet,” she added, quieter now.
My breath hitched as her lips brushed just under my ear—soft at first, then a light nip that sent a sharp shiver down my spine. I bit my lip instantly, trying to keep quiet, but it barely helped.
“Y/N…” I whispered, already losing a bit of my resolve.
She hummed against my skin, clearly pleased with herself, her voice dropping as she murmured teasingly into my ear—“Thought you liked it when I take my time…”
That did it.
I turned my head, catching her lips in a kiss that was anything but slow this time—harder, needier, like the night before hadn’t been nearly enough. Her hands moved instinctively, sliding along my sides, pushing the robe further open—and then one of them lifted, settling against my chest—
“Wait—”
I caught her wrist gently but firmly, breaking the kiss just enough to breathe.
She frowned slightly, confused, still close enough that I could feel her breath against my lips. “…why?”
I let out a shaky exhale, pressing my forehead lightly against hers. “Because,” I said, trying—and failing—to sound unaffected, “my sister is outside.”
A pause.
Y/N blinked. “…your sister.”
“Mm-hm.”
Another pause.
Then her eyes closed briefly as she groaned under her breath. “…that is incredibly bad timing.”
I laughed softly, still a little breathless. “You think?”
She opened her eyes again, looking at me—really looking—like she was debating whether or not it was worth ignoring that fact. “…we have five minutes,” she said slowly.
I raised a brow. “Y/N.”
“I’m just saying—”
“No.”
She huffed, but there was a faint smile tugging at her lips. “…fine.”
I leaned in, pressing a quick, softer kiss to her mouth—gentler this time. “Later,” I murmured.
Her expression shifted instantly at that. “…yeah?” she asked.
I smiled. “Yeah.”
That seemed to satisfy her.
For now.
I pushed myself up with a quiet exhale, forcing my brain to actually function. “Okay—move,” I muttered, already stepping off her.
Y/N let out a soft, reluctant groan as I left her, but she didn’t argue this time. Instead, she ran a hand through her hair and sat up, blinking away the last of her sleep.
I grabbed the nearest thing—a shirt from the floor—and started picking up whatever I could reach. “…condoms,” I muttered under my breath, scooping up the very obvious evidence from the table and floor. “Great. Fantastic. Love that for me.”
Y/N snorted softly behind me. “Hey,” she said, voice still rough, “that’s teamwork.”
I shot her a look over my shoulder. “You’re helping.”
“I am helping,” she said, already leaning down to grab her boxers from the floor.
I huffed but didn’t argue, tossing wrappers into the trash as fast as I could. Behind me, I heard the soft rustle of fabric as she pulled on her boxers, then reached for the rest of her clothes—her bra, her shirt, her jeans—moving quickly but without that earlier rush. Now it was… focused. Real.
“We have, like, two minutes,” I said, glancing at the door.
“We’re fine,” she replied, way too calm for someone about to meet my sister for the first time.
“Easy for you to say.”
She smirked faintly. “I’m charming.”
I rolled my eyes, grabbing the last of the mess before backing toward the hallway. “Bathroom,” I pointed.
“Got it.”
I disappeared into my room while she headed the other way.
---
A few minutes later, I stepped out, now fully dressed, hair quickly fixed, trying to look like I hadn’t just—well. Everything.
At the same time, the bathroom door opened. Y/N walked out, running a hand through her hair one last time, looking… annoyingly put together for someone who had been asleep on my couch five minutes ago.
She glanced at me immediately. “…do I look okay?” she asked.
I didn’t even hesitate.
I stepped closer, reaching up slightly before leaning in and pressing a quick, soft kiss to her lips. “You look perfect,” I murmured.
Her shoulders relaxed just a fraction at that. “…good.”
I smiled faintly, then grabbed the perfume from the table, spraying it quickly. “Okay,” I said, more to myself than anything. “We’re doing this.”
Y/N nodded once. “Yeah.”
I took a breath, reaching for the door. And then—I opened it.
Mary-Kate was still there. Waiting. Watching.
And the second she saw us, her expression shifted—curious, assessing, and just a little too amused.
I glanced back at Y/N briefly, then stepped aside.
“Alright,” I said. “You wanted to meet her.”
A small pause.
Then—
“This is Y/N.”
I stepped aside, giving her a clear view.
For a split second, everything went… still.
Y/N, standing just behind me, lifted her hand in a small, polite wave—calm, composed, like she wasn’t standing in front of my sister for the first time after… all of that. “Hi,” she said simply.
Mary-Kate didn’t wave back.
She just looked at her—up, down, then back up again. A slow, impressed hum left her.
“…okay,” she said, tilting her head slightly. “You’re hotter in person.”
“—Mary-Kate,” I snapped immediately.
Y/N blinked, clearly caught off guard—and then, just slightly, she blushed. Actually *blushed*. Which somehow made it worse.
Mary-Kate let out a quiet breath through her nose, clearly amused—but at least she didn’t push it further. “What?” she said, glancing at me. “I’m just being honest.”
“You’re being inappropriate,” I shot back.
Y/N cleared her throat softly, lowering her hand with a small, slightly awkward smile. “…hi,” she said again, a little more unsure this time.
Mary-Kate stepped forward then, shifting gears. “Hi,” she replied calmly this time, extending her hand. “I’m Mary-Kate.”
Y/N took it immediately, grateful for the normal interaction. “Nice to meet you.”
There was a brief pause. A weird one. Not uncomfortable exactly—but new. Everyone taking each other in.
I cleared my throat, stepping in before Mary-Kate could say anything else that would make this worse. “…so,” I said, forcing a small smile, “how about breakfast?”
That seemed to break the tension just enough. Mary-Kate shrugged. “I flew here. I’ll take food.”
“Great,” I said quickly, already turning toward the kitchen—and, without thinking, reaching back to grab Y/N’s hand and pull her along with me.
The second we were out of direct view, I let out a quiet breath. “…oh my god.”
Y/N chuckled softly beside me. “That went well.”
I shot her a look. “Did it?”
She smiled, relaxed despite everything. “I’m still alive, so yeah.”
I huffed a laugh, moving around the kitchen to grab plates. Then, out of nowhere—
“You know,” Y/N said casually, leaning against the counter, “you really do look like her.”
I paused. “…what?”
She gestured vaguely toward the living room. “Your sister. You look like twins.”
I stared at her for a second—then laughed. “Okay, first of all—rude. And second, she has her own twin.”
She grinned. “I’m serious.”
I shook my head, still smiling as I turned back to the counter. But then—I glanced at her again, a thought clicking into place.
“…wait,” I said slowly, narrowing my eyes. “Is that why you blushed?”
Y/N blinked. “What?”
“Earlier,” I pressed, pointing slightly. “At the door. When she said…” I stopped myself, rolling my eyes. “When she said you were hotter in person.”
She immediately lifted her hands in defense. “No—no,” she said quickly. “That’s not—”
I raised a brow.
“I was just caught off guard,” she added, a little more carefully this time.
I studied her for a second. “…uh-huh.”
“I was,” she insisted, softer now.
Then she stepped closer—and just like that, the teasing faded a little.
“Yeah, you look alike,” she said, voice quieter. “But…” Her eyes met mine. “…you’re different.”
Something in my chest shifted. “How?” I asked, before I could stop myself.
Y/N smiled—small, but real. “You’re you.”
Simple. But the way she said it—like it meant everything.
“…smooth,” I muttered, but there was no bite to it.
She huffed a quiet laugh. “I mean it.”
I looked at her for a second longer, then shook my head, turning back to the counter to hide the way I was smiling. “Yeah, yeah,” I murmured. “Help me before she comes in here and starts judging my cooking.”
Y/N pushed off the counter immediately. “Wouldn’t dream of it,” she said, stepping beside me.
And just like that—it felt normal again.
Well.
As normal as it could be—with my sister in the other room, and the girl I loved standing right next to me.
---
Everything… actually went well.
Surprisingly well.
There were a few teasing comments—mostly from Mary-Kate—but nothing Y/N couldn’t handle. In fact, she handled it better than I expected. Calm, easy, just the right amount of charm without trying too hard.
Mary-Kate warmed up to her quickly. That quiet, observant way she had? Y/N met it with the same kind of steady presence, and somewhere between breakfast and coffee, they just… clicked. Mary-Kate, of course, still tested her a little. Pushing. Waiting to see if Y/N would crack.
She didn’t.
And by the time they were both laughing over something stupid I’d said—completely at my expense, obviously—I realized something.
Y/N fit.
Not perfectly. Not instantly. But naturally.
Like she wasn’t forcing her way into my world—she was just… stepping into it.
---
Later, after MK left—after the apartment finally went quiet again—my phone buzzed.
I glanced down.
A message from Mary-Kate.
Mary-Kate:
Y/N is approved! I really like her.
I smiled before I could stop myself. Then—another message came through.
Ashley:
So you’re telling me you met her WITHOUT ME?
A second one, almost immediately—
Ashley:
I’m offended.
…another.
Ashley:
Actually no, I’m jealous.
I huffed out a quiet laugh. Of course she was.
Mary-Kate:
You were busy.
The reply came instantly.
Ashley:
That’s not the point and you know it.
I shook my head, locking my phone. “…unbelievable.”
But I was smiling. Of course I was. I looked up from my phone—and there she was. Y/N, sprawled comfortably on my couch like she belonged there, scrolling through something on her own phone, completely unaware of the messages I’d just gotten.
My chest softened.
“…hey,” I said.
She glanced up immediately. “Yeah?”
I shook my head, smile still lingering. “Nothing.”
She narrowed her eyes slightly. “You’re smiling.”
“Am I not allowed to smile?”
“Not like that,” she said, already suspicious.
I laughed, shaking my head. “Just—come here.”
She didn’t question it—just got up and walked over, settling beside me like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Which, at this point—It was.
---
Outside our little bubble, though—the world hadn’t slowed down.
Pillowtalk kept climbing. Streams rising, charts updating, the buzz getting louder. It hit Billboard.
And the speculation? It only got worse.
Fans digging through interviews, clips resurfacing, every glance, every interaction, every *moment* being picked apart.
“WHO IS SHE???”
“SHE HAS TO BE SOMEONE FAMOUS.”
And all the while—we stayed quiet. Stayed in this space that was still ours, for a little while longer.
---
Until few weeks later—we were spotted.
Just a simple moment. A walk, a laugh, a hand that lingered a little too long.
Summary: The forced proximity of a long road trip is finally wearing down the walls between Wanda and Y/N. Trapped in a cramped car with an incredibly perceptive Yelena Belova, the unspoken tension reaches a boiling point.
Words: 13k+
Warnings: Fluff, Angst, Soulmate AU, Mentions of Past Hydra Abuse/Experimentation, Reader has a P, mention of smut.
Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist
---
---
Yelena’s POV
The road stretched endlessly ahead of them beneath heavy grey clouds that turned the late afternoon dim and cold. Trees blurred past outside the windows in dark smears of green and black, occasionally broken by tiny gas stations or forgotten roadside towns as the car pushed steadily south.
Inside, it was quiet except for the hum of the engine and the faint music drifting from the radio. Yelena drove with one hand resting lazily on the wheel, sunglasses pushed into her hair despite the lack of sunlight. Wanda sat in the passenger seat with one knee slightly pulled up, staring out at the distant hills passing by. In the backseat, Y/N sat sideways behind Wanda, one arm draped across the top of the seat. Her attention seemed split between the scenery outside and Wanda beside her. Even now. Always.
Yelena had noticed it in the rearview mirror probably a hundred times already. How the taller woman acted around Wanda. A faint smirk tugged at Yelena’s mouth before she finally broke the silence.
“Tell me again what happened.”
Wanda blinked and looked over. “The mission?”
“Yes, mission,” Yelena replied dryly.
Y/N snorted softly from the backseat.
Wanda ignored it, shifting slightly before answering. “We were ambushed during a retrieval mission. Hydra knew we were coming.”
Yelena’s amusement faded immediately. “That is bad already.”
Wanda nodded faintly. “There were too many of them. Too organized. They knew exactly how we’d move.” Her jaw tightened slightly at the memory. “It wasn’t random.”
“Someone leaked information,” Yelena said.
“Maybe,” Wanda admitted quietly. “Or they’ve been studying us longer than we thought.”
In the backseat, Y/N’s posture stiffened almost instantly.
Wanda noticed immediately. Her fingers twitched faintly in her lap before she continued. “We escaped. Barely. But during the escape we had to split up.”
“Nat, Steve, and Bucky went one way,” Y/N added quietly. “Me and Wanda went the other.”
Yelena glanced toward the mirror again. “And Natasha told you to run.”
“A week ago,” Wanda said. “She contacted us through an encrypted burner. Told us to stay off-grid, keep moving, change locations constantly, and not go near the compound.”
“Until they figured out what happened,” Yelena murmured.
Wanda nodded. Silence settled inside the car again as light rain began tapping softly against the windows. The windshield wipers swept once across the glass.
“And after that?” Yelena asked.
Wanda’s expression dimmed slightly. “Nothing.”
Yelena’s grip shifted slightly on the steering wheel. That bothered her. Natasha never stayed silent unless she had a reason. Or couldn’t answer. The thought lingered heavily in the car for a few seconds, mixing with the sound of rain against the windows and the steady rumble of tires against wet pavement.
Wanda noticed the slight tension settling into Yelena’s shoulders. “…Where are we going exactly?” she asked quietly.
Yelena blinked once, pulling herself back from the thought. “South coast.”
“That narrows it down so much,” Wanda muttered.
Yelena ignored the sarcasm easily. “There’s a place,” she said after a moment. “Old safehouse Natasha used years ago after Red Room.”
That immediately got Wanda’s attention. “You think she’d go back there?”
“No,” Yelena said simply. “Which is exactly why she might.” A faint smirk tugged at Yelena’s mouth. “Yes.” Yelena adjusted her grip on the wheel before continuing. “It’s near the coast. Small town. Forgettable.” Her expression dimmed slightly. “One of the first places Natasha brought me after we escaped Dreykov.”
Wanda’s gaze softened.
Yelena shrugged one shoulder casually, though there was something quieter beneath it. “She used it sometimes when things became... too loud.”
In the backseat, Y/N listened silently, chin resting against her folded arm near the window while rain streaked across the glass beside her.
The silence thickened again after that. Rain continued tapping softly against the windows while the car pushed farther south through long empty roads. Yelena drove one-handed again, though this time her eyes kept flicking toward the rearview mirror, but because she was studying Y/N now. Curious.
Eventually she spoke again.
“So,” Yelena said casually, “how were you able to smell Natasha on me?”
Wanda glanced over slightly.
In the backseat, Y/N blinked once. “…What?”
“At the alley,” Yelena explained. “You said I smelled like her.”
“Oh.” Y/N shifted slightly. “You do.”
“You can smell family connections?”
“No. I just have a good nose.” Y/N hesitated briefly, like she was trying to explain something obvious to someone who lacked the context for it. “I can turn into a wolf.”
Silence. Yelena stared at the mirror for a full second.
“Wait.” She glanced toward the backseat. “Like actual wolf?”
“Yes.”
“Big wolf?”
“…Yes.”
“How big?”
Y/N paused slightly. “…Big.”
Wanda smiled faintly despite herself.
Yelena barked out a laugh immediately. “That is amazing.”
Y/N relaxed slightly at the reaction. Then Yelena’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully as she looked at Y/N through the mirror again. “So are you enhanced too?”
Y/N frowned. “What?”
Yelena gestured vaguely toward her. “You are giant. Strong. Dramatic. Broody. I’m trying to determine if you are enhanced or just hot.”
Wanda’s head snapped toward Yelena instantly. A visible frown formed on her face.
Y/N, meanwhile, looked deeply confused again. But answered anyway, “It’s part of the wolf,” she explained quietly. “Strength. Senses. Healing.”
Yelena tilted her head slightly. “And Hydra did this?”
Y/N shook her head. “No.” A small pause. “I was born this way.”
That got Yelena’s full attention immediately. “…Seriously?”
Y/N nodded once.
For a second, Yelena just stared at her in the mirror. Then a grin spread across her face. “That is coolest thing I’ve ever heard.”
Wanda’s frown deepened.
Y/N looked surprised by the enthusiasm. “…Really?”
“Yes,” Yelena said immediately. “You are giant magical wolf woman.”
Another pause.
“Can I see later?”
Wanda turned sharply toward Yelena again.
Y/N blinked once. “…The wolf?”
“Yes, the wolf.”
“…Okay.”
Wanda’s jaw tightened slightly. Yelena caught it immediately finding amusing.
Wanda stared ahead at the road in complete silence now.
Yelena smirked to herself before continuing to poke at Y/N. “Can you understand people while wolf?”
“Yes.”
“Can you talk?”
“No.”
Wanda pinched the bridge of her nose. “Yelena.”
“What?”
“You are interrogating her like she is a zoo exhibit.”
“I am learning,” Yelena corrected.
Y/N tilted her head. “I don’t mind.”
“See?” Yelena pointed triumphantly.
Wanda made a noise of irritation and looked out the side window again.
Yelena was absolutely certain now. The more she complimented Y/N, the grumpier Wanda became. And Y/N was somehow too oblivious to notice any of it. Which only made it funnier.
“This is amazing,” Yelena continued.
Y/N blinked once, slightly unsure how to respond to that level of enthusiasm. “…Okay.”
“No, seriously.” Yelena pointed dramatically toward the backseat. “Do you understand how cool this is? Natasha never told me the Avengers had an actual werewolf.”
“I’m not a werewolf,” Y/N corrected automatically.
Yelena waved a dismissive hand. “Close enough.”
“It’s not.”
“What is difference?”
Y/N frowned slightly, genuinely considering it. “…I’m not cursed.”
Yelena barked out a laugh loud enough to echo through the car. Wanda stayed facing the window. Silent.
“You are funny too,” Yelena informed Y/N.
Y/N looked mildly alarmed by that statement. “I wasn’t joking.”
“That makes it better.”
Another soft laugh escaped Yelena as the car rolled down the road. In the backseat, Y/N relaxed a little more into the seat, one arm resting against the door while she watched the road ahead through the windshield.
Yelena glanced toward the mirror again. “So how does it work?”
Y/N tilted her head slightly. “What does?”
“The wolf thing.”
“Oh…I shift.”
Yelena stared at her reflection for a second. “…You are terrible at explaining things.”
Wanda’s lips twitched faintly despite herself before she forced the expression away again.
Y/N noticed immediately. Her attention shifted toward Wanda for a second longer than necessary, lingering there briefly before returning to Yelena.
“Okay!” Yelena glanced back again. “Do you chase things?”
Y/N looked genuinely confused. “…What things?”
“Cars. Squirrels. Tiny annoying animals. A ball.”
“No,” Y/N said immediately, mildly offended. “I’m not a dog.”
Wanda covered her mouth quickly to hide another laugh as she very briefly—and disastrously—imagined throwing something just to see what Y/N would do.
Y/N looked immediately pleased by the sound. That tiny shift in her expression didn’t escape Yelena either. God, these two were obvious.
“So,” Yelena said casually, still grinning to herself, “if I buy squeaky toy later—”
“No.”
“Very fast answer.”
“Because it’s stupid.”
“You thought about it though.”
“I didn’t.”
“You did.”
Wanda let out another quiet laugh before she could stop herself. Y/N’s attention snapped toward her again immediately, expression softening all over again like flipping a switch.
Wanda looked away toward the window quickly before Y/N could notice the heat returning to her face.
Unfortunately, Yelena noticed both.
The car slowly settled into a quieter rhythm after that. Rain tapped softly against the windows while the highway stretched endlessly ahead of them, illuminated only by distant headlights and occasional road signs flashing past in the dark. Yelena hummed quietly along with the radio. Wanda stayed turned toward the window, though the faint smile never fully disappeared from her mouth. And in the backseat, Y/N relaxed deeper into her corner, calm and content in a way she rarely allowed herself to be. Mostly because Wanda kept laughing.
---
Wanda’s POV
By the time they finally stopped, Wanda felt like her entire body had gone numb from sitting in the car for so many hours. The road had long since emptied into stretches of darkness, civilization thinning until there was barely anything left except trees, old gas stations, and occasional flickering signs glowing weakly in the distance.
When the motel finally appeared, it looked like something pulled straight out of a horror movie. A buzzing neon VACANCY sign flickered unevenly near the road. Half the letters were dead. Wanda stared at it through the windshield. “…Absolutely not.”
Yelena parked anyway. “Perfect hiding place,” she declared.
“It looks like we’re about to get murdered.”
“Exactly. Nobody searches for someone in murder motel.”
That was... annoyingly logical.
The gravel crunched beneath the tires as they pulled into the nearly empty parking lot. The motel itself was old and weatherworn, paint peeling along the doors and railings. A single dim light buzzed outside the office. Wanda climbed out of the car slowly, stretching her arms above her head with a quiet groan. Cold air hit immediately. Before she could even react properly, warmth settled at her back.
Y/N.
She had moved beside Wanda almost instantly after getting out, standing close enough that their shoulders brushed lightly while golden eyes scanned the parking lot carefully. Wanda tried very hard not to notice how automatic it had become.
Yelena absolutely noticed. Again. The blonde grabbed the car keys and headed toward the office with an amused little hum under her breath. “I’ll get the rooms,” she announced.
Wanda watched her disappear inside before exhaling quietly. Beside her, Y/N tilted her head slightly. “Tired?”
Wanda glanced up at her. Even exhausted, Y/N still looked unfairly good. Which was a problem Wanda was aggressively not thinking about.
“A little,” Wanda admitted.
Y/N nodded once, gaze flicking briefly toward the dark edges of the parking lot again before settling back on Wanda.
“You should sleep.”
Something about the simple certainty in her voice made warmth spread through Wanda’s chest again. Dangerous. Very dangerous.
A few minutes later, the office door opened again. Yelena stepped back outside, twirling two keycards between her fingers. “One room for me,” she said casually. Then tossed the second card directly at Y/N. “One room for the couple.”
Wanda nearly inhaled her own soul. “We are not a couple!”
Yelena raised one eyebrow slowly, visibly amused. “…Okay.”
The way she said it somehow made it infinitely worse.
Wanda’s face burned hotter instantly. “We’re not!”
“Mhm.” Yelena smirked faintly before turning away, already walking toward her room with her duffel bag slung over one shoulder.
“Goodnight, married people.”
“Yelena!”
The blonde only waved dismissively without looking back.
Wanda stood frozen in the middle of the parking lot for a full second, absolutely mortified before she grabbed her own bag quickly. “Come on.”
The motel walkway creaked softly beneath their footsteps as they crossed the parking lot. The farther they moved from the office lights, the darker everything became, shadows stretching long between the doors. Y/N walked slightly behind Wanda this time, close enough that Wanda could feel her presence without looking.
It made her chest ache in that confusing, dangerous way again.
Wanda unlocked the door quickly and pushed it open. The room was exactly what she expected. Old and small with a single buzzing lamp cast soft yellow light over faded floral wallpaper and worn carpet that had definitely seen better decades. There were two bedside tables, a tiny bathroom tucked near the back, an old TV mounted crookedly on the wall—and one bed.
Wanda stopped walking and slowly, she turned toward Y/N.
Y/N blinked once. “…What?”
“There’s one bed.”
Y/N looked at the bed. Then back at Wanda. “…Okay?”
Right. Of course that wouldn’t bother her. They’ve been sleeping on the same bed this whole time.
“It’s fine,” she said quickly. Too quickly. “We’ve shared beds before.”
Y/N nodded immediately. “Yeah.”
Because for Y/N, this really was normal. Wanda hated how much that calmed her.
Y/N quietly locked the door behind them before setting her bag down near the wall. The room immediately felt smaller afterward. Quieter.
Wanda busied herself taking off her jacket, avoiding eye contact completely. But unfortunately, Y/N noticed her mood almost instantly. “…Wanda?”
“I’m fine.” The answer came sharper than intended.
Y/N went still for a second.
Wanda immediately regretted it. She rubbed a hand over her face tiredly. “Sorry. I just—”
Before she could finish, warmth suddenly wrapped around her making her freeze. Y/N had stepped closer without a sound and pulled her gently into a hug. Not tight. Not restraining. Just there. Warm arms around her shoulders. Y/N chest against hers. Steady heartbeat beneath her ear.
“I don’t want to fight,” Y/N murmured quietly.
Wanda’s breath caught.
Y/N held her carefully, like she was afraid Wanda might pull away if she moved too suddenly.
“I just want to know if you’re okay.”
The honesty in her voice shattered something soft inside Wanda immediately. Because there was no accusation there. No frustration. No confusion. Just concern.
Wanda felt herself melt against her before she could stop it. Her forehead slowly dropped against Y/N’s shoulder as tension drained out of her body all at once.
“I know,” she whispered tiredly.
Y/N’s arms tightened slightly around her at the sound. Warm and safe.
Wanda closed her eyes.
God.
This was becoming a serious problem.
---
Wanda stayed there longer than she meant to, pressed against Y/N’s chest while the motel room hummed quietly around them, the old air conditioner rattling softly somewhere near the window.
Y/N didn’t rush her. Didn’t ask questions. Didn’t push. She just held her. One hand rested carefully between Wanda’s shoulder blades while the other stayed warm against her waist, grounding and steady in that effortless way only Y/N seemed capable of.
Wanda hated how much she needed it.
After a long moment, Y/N spoke quietly. “Did I do something wrong?”
The question was so soft, so genuinely worried, that Wanda’s chest tightened painfully. She pulled back just enough to look up at her.
Y/N’s expression was open, uncertain now in a way she rarely allowed herself to be. Like Wanda’s reactions mattered more than her own comfort.
“No,” Wanda said immediately. “No, you didn’t.”
Y/N studied her face carefully, searching for any sign she was lying. “…Then why are you upset?”
Because you smile every time I laugh. Because you look at me like I’m something precious. Because I can’t breathe when you touch me anymore. Wanda swallowed hard. “I’m just tired,” she said instead.
Y/N kept looking at her for another second, then slowly nodded. “…Okay.”
She believed her enough not to push further. That somehow made Wanda feel even worse.
Y/N finally loosened her hold, though one hand lingered lightly against Wanda’s waist for a second longer before falling away completely. The loss of warmth was immediate.
Wanda tried very hard not to notice.
Y/N stepped back and glanced around the room before wrinkling her nose slightly. “This place smells weird.”
The abrupt change nearly made Wanda laugh.
“It’s a motel.”
“It smells like cigarettes and sadness.”
A startled laugh escaped Wanda before she could stop it. Y/N’s entire expression softened instantly at the sound again.
There it is. That look. Wanda felt heat crawl back into her face immediately. Wanda turned away quickly before Y/N could notice her spiraling again and dropped her bag near the bed. Behind her, she heard Y/N moving quietly around the room, checking windows and locks automatically out of habit. The familiar sounds settled something anxious in Wanda’s chest.
A few minutes later, Wanda sat near the edge of the bed while Y/N disappeared briefly into the bathroom to wash up. The second the door closed, Wanda dropped her face into her hands with a groan.
“This is bad,” she whispered to herself. Very bad. Because now every little thing affected her. The hugs, the smiles, the protective instincts, the way Y/N looked happier whenever Wanda laughed. And the worst part?
Wanda liked it. A lot.
The bathroom door opened again. Wanda looked up automatically—and immediately regretted having eyes. Y/N stepped back into the room wearing loose grey sweatpants and a black sports bra, hair still damp from washing it quickly in the sink.
Wanda forgot how breathing worked. Again.
Y/N glanced at her immediately. “…What?”
“Nothing.” That answer came way too fast.
Y/N stared at her for a second. Then, to Wanda’s absolute horror, a small smirk appeared.
“Why is your face red?”
Wanda nearly choked. “It’s not.”
“It is.”
“It’s warm in here.”
Y/N glanced around the room. The ancient air conditioner rattled loudly from the window. “…No, it isn’t.”
Wanda hated everything.
Y/N took another step closer, still looking genuinely curious despite the faint amusement lingering on her face.
“You keep doing that.”
“Doing what?”
“The red face thing.”
Wanda grabbed the nearest pillow and threw it at her. But Y/N caught it automatically. And the smirk got slightly bigger.
Wanda wanted the floor to open and swallow her whole. “Stop looking at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like you know something.”
Y/N frowned slightly, clearly trying to understand what Wanda meant. Then, instead of backing off, she stepped closer.
Wanda immediately regretted saying anything.
“Why?” Y/N asked.
Wanda opened her mouth but nothing came out.
Y/N tilted her head. “Am I the one making you blush?”
The question hit Wanda like a freight train. Her entire brain stopped functioning. For one horrifying second, neither of them spoke. Y/N watched her carefully. Wanda stared back completely frozen. Y/N kept watching her, golden eyes focused entirely on her face. There was no teasing there. No smugness. Just curiosity. Which somehow made it ten times worse.
Slowly, Y/N reached out and took Wanda's hand.
Wanda's breath caught. “Y/N—”
“You keep doing it.”
“What?”
Y/N shifted a little closer. Far too close. Wanda could feel the warmth radiating from her.
Y/N tilted her head. “Is it?” The question came out quiet. And somehow that was the problem. Because Y/N wasn't trying to corner her. She actually wanted to understand.
“You blush when I get close,” Y/N continued carefully. “And when I touch you.”
Another inch closer.
“Your heartbeat gets faster.”
“Y/N.”
“And when I hug you—”
“Y/N.”
“Is it because—”
“Stop.”
The word came out sharper than Wanda intended.
Y/N immediately fell silent.
Wanda hated the flash of uncertainty that crossed her face. This was exactly why she couldn't do this. Because one more second and she was going to say something she couldn't take back. Something that would change everything.
Wanda pulled her hand free and stood abruptly. “I need a shower.”
Y/N blinked. “What?”
“A shower.”
“Right now?”
“Yes.”
Y/N glanced toward the bathroom. Then back at Wanda. Still confused.
“Did I say something wrong?”
The guilt hit instantly.
“No.”
“You seem upset.”
“I’m not upset.”
“You pushed me.”
Wanda groaned and scrubbed both hands down her face. “I just need five minutes, okay?”
Y/N studied her for a moment.
Then nodded slowly. “…Okay.”
The disappointment she tried to hide made Wanda feel even worse. Without trusting herself to say anything else, Wanda grabbed her clothes and headed for the bathroom. The door shut behind her. The lock clicked.
For a long moment, Wanda simply stood there staring at her reflection in the mirror. Then she dropped her forehead against it.
“Oh, this is a disaster.”
---
Y/N’s POV
The bathroom door clicked shut.
Y/N remained exactly where she was on the edge of the bed, staring at it. Very confused. A few minutes ago she had been certain she was finally understanding what was happening. Wanda’s heartbeat accelerated whenever Y/N got close. She blushed, she looked away and she got nervous when Y/N touched her.
Those signs seemed obvious. At least, they did to Y/N.
So why did Wanda keep denying it? It didn’t make sense.
Because Wanda was her imprint. The certainty of that sat deep inside her bones. Unshakable. The moment Y/N had seen Wanda for the first time, something had changed. Every instinct she possessed had immediately recognized her.
Protect. Stay close. Keep safe. Make her happy.
It wasn’t something Y/N had chosen. It simply was. As natural as breathing. As natural as her heartbeat. Which was why Wanda’s reactions confused her so much.
Y/N wasn’t afraid.
Why would she be?
Wanda was Wanda. Her imprint. The person her instincts trusted more than anyone else in the world. Even now, with a locked bathroom door between them, Y/N could hear Wanda moving around inside. Running water. Soft footsteps. Safe.
The knowledge settled her immediately. So why wasn’t Wanda settling too?
Y/N rubbed the back of her neck.
Maybe other people were just complicated. That seemed increasingly likely. She thought back to the car ride. The way Wanda smiled when Yelena was being ridiculous. The way her face turned red. The way she’d melted into Y/N’s arms earlier. And then five minutes later acted like Y/N had asked her to dismantle a bomb with her teeth.
None of it made sense. Y/N’s frown deepened. Maybe Wanda was afraid Y/N didn’t feel the same way. The thought made her sit up straighter.
Was that it?
Normal people needed things said out loud sometimes. Maybe Wanda couldn’t feel what Y/N felt. Maybe she didn’t understand.
Y/N stared at the bathroom door.
Of course she didn’t understand. She didn’t even know what imprinting was.
The realization hit all at once.
Y/N had spent so much time assuming Wanda knew. Assuming she could somehow see it.
But Wanda wasn’t a wolf.
She had no reason to know why Y/N always ended up beside her. Why Y/N watched every room for threats. Why her attention always drifted back to Wanda no matter what else was happening. Why hearing Wanda laugh felt better than winning a fight.
Y/N exhaled slowly.
Maybe Wanda thought those things were choices. Not instincts. Not something woven into the very core of Y/N’s existence.
The thought made her chest ache unexpectedly. Because if Wanda didn’t know…
Then from her perspective, Y/N probably looked insane.
Y/N frowned, then sighed.
Humans were confusing. Wanda was confusing. And somehow she was still the easiest person in the world to be around.
---
Wanda’s POV
The next morning, they were back on the road before sunrise.
Wanda had barely slept. Not because of the motel. Not because of the old mattress or the rattling air conditioner.
Because of Y/N.
After escaping into the shower the night before, Wanda had spent nearly twenty minutes standing under lukewarm water trying to get her thoughts under control. By the time she finally came back out, Y/N had been sitting on the edge of the bed waiting for her.
Wanda had immediately announced she was tired before Y/N could continue whatever conversation they'd almost had earlier. Y/N had looked like she wanted to ask something, but after a second she'd simply nodded and said okay.
Then they'd gone to bed.
One bed. One very small bed.
Wanda was refusing to think about that too.
The motel coffee had been terrible, Yelena had insulted the complimentary waffles for five straight minutes, and somehow Y/N had still eaten four of them.
Now the three of them were driving farther south beneath a cloudy grey sky. This time, Y/N was driving. Wanda was absolutely not thinking about that. Not thinking about the way Y/N's hands looked on the steering wheel. Or the way she drove—steady, calm, one arm resting loosely near the window while the other guided the car effortlessly down the empty road. Wanda sat in the backseat behind her, staring out the window while trying very hard not to focus on the sound of Y/N laughing. Again.
For the past few hours, Yelena and Y/N had been talking almost nonstop. At first it had been practical things—roads, Natasha, safehouses, possible routes. Then somewhere along the way it had devolved into complete nonsense. And Y/N was participating.
Willingly.
Wanda still didn't understand how Yelena had managed this so fast.
When Y/N first joined the Avengers, it had taken months before she willingly joined conversations with the others. Even longer before she started joking back.
But now?
Yelena said one ridiculous thing and suddenly Y/N was relaxed enough to laugh every five minutes.
It was ridiculous.
“See?” Yelena said from the passenger seat, gesturing dramatically with half a granola bar. “This is why I don't trust goats.”
Y/N glanced at her briefly.
“…Goats?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“They look like they know secrets.”
A quiet snort escaped Y/N before she could stop it. Wanda stared at the back of her head in betrayal.
“That’s not a reason,” Y/N said, still amused.
“It is absolutely a reason. I saw one stare at me for twenty straight seconds once.”
“Maybe it didn't like you.”
“Exactly. Suspicious.”
Y/N laughed again. Wanda frowned harder at the passing scenery outside. How was this happening?
Yelena leaned back smugly in her seat.
“You laugh because you know I’m right.”
“I laugh because you sound insane.”
“Thank you.”
“That was not a compliment.”
“In my culture, it is.”
Y/N shook her head slightly, smiling to herself as she focused back on the road.
Wanda crossed her arms tighter. This was really ridiculous. She should've been happy Y/N was comfortable.
And she was. Mostly.
So why did something unpleasant twist in her chest every time Yelena made her laugh?
Wanda frowned deeper.
No. She was not jealous. Yelena was just... easy to talk to. Loud, blunt and strange. And Y/N responded well to that apparently.
---
A few hours later, they stopped at a gas station somewhere in the middle of nowhere. The place looked old and tired, tucked beside a long empty road with faded signs and only two working pumps. A tiny convenience store buzzed beneath fluorescent lights while bugs repeatedly sacrificed themselves against the windows.
Y/N had gone inside a few minutes ago after muttering something about needing the bathroom and “more snacks.”
Which really meant: Many snacks.
Wanda stayed leaning against the side of the car while Yelena finished pumping gas. The air was cooler now, carrying the smell of asphalt and distant rain.
For a minute, neither of them spoke. Until Yelena starts—“So,” Yelena said casually, screwing the gas cap back on.
Wanda immediately narrowed her eyes. That tone never meant anything good.
“What.”
Yelena leaned against the pump. “What exactly is your deal with giant wolf woman?”
Wanda nearly choked on air. “What?”
“I ask simple question.”
“No, you didn’t.”
Yelena looked deeply unconvinced.
“You sleep together.”
“We do not—”
“You literally share a bed every night.”
“Because we’re hiding!”
“Mhm.”
“And there’s usually only one bed!”
“Convenient.”
Wanda glared at her immediately. “Nothing is happening.”
Yelena hummed. “Okay. Then explain.”
“There’s nothing to explain!”
“So you are really not a couple?”
“We’re not,” Wanda said quickly.
“Very convincing.”
“We’re just—” Wanda stopped. What were they?
Yelena noticed instantly. “Oh my god.”
“Stop.”
“You don't even know.”
Wanda hated that she was right.
Yelena folded her arms. “You hold hands. You sleep together. She watches you like emotionally damaged guard dog.”
“She does not.”
“She absolutely does.”
Wanda looked away. Because the worst part? A small, traitorous part of her knew Yelena was right.
Yelena stepped closer, lowering her voice. “She looks at you like you hung moon.”
Wanda's face heated instantly. “That’s not true.”
Yelena stared at her flatly. “You know I was trained from childhood to read people, yes?”
“…Unfortunately.”
“And you”—Yelena pointed directly at her—“look at her like you want climb her like tree.”
Wanda nearly died. “Oh my god!”
Yelena burst out laughing. “You should see your face!”
“I hate you.”
“I don’t care.”
Wanda dragged both hands down her burning face miserably. This was horrible. Because now that Yelena had said it out loud, she couldn't stop thinking about it.
The touching. The closeness. The way Y/N smiled every time Wanda laughed. The way she always seemed happiest when Wanda was happy. The way Wanda immediately relaxed whenever Y/N touched her. And worse—how much she wanted it.
Yelena's amusement faded slightly.
“So why are you fighting it?”
Wanda blinked. “…What?”
“You are very obvious,” Yelena said more gently. “Both of you.”
Wanda swallowed hard. “It’s complicated.”
Yelena snorted. “No. It is actually extremely uncomplicated. You like giant wolf girl. Giant wolf girl likes you.”
If only it were that simple. Wanda thought about the motel room. About Y/N asking if she was the reason Wanda blushed. About those golden eyes looking at her with absolute sincerity while trying to understand. About how confused Y/N had seemed when Wanda ran away to the shower.
Wanda looked away. “It’s not that simple.”
“Is because of robot guy?”
Wanda's head snapped toward her. “How do you know about him?”
Yelena looked completely unbothered. “Giant wolf woman told me.”
Wanda blinked. “…What?”
“The motel.”
Yelena shrugged.
“You went to the bathroom this morning. I asked her the same question I am asking you now.”
A feeling of absolute dread settled over Wanda immediately. “You asked Y/N if she liked me?”
“Obviously.”
“And?”
Yelena stared at her. “Wanda.”
“What did she say?”
“She spent ten minutes looking confused that it was apparently not obvious.”
Wanda felt her face heating already. “Oh my god.”
“She talked about you the entire time.”
That did absolutely nothing to help.
“What exactly did she say?”
Yelena thought for a second.
“Mostly things that sounded concerning.”
“That is not an answer.”
“She said she likes being around you. That you make her happy. That she feels calmer when you are nearby. That she worries when you are upset.” Yelena paused. “And then she looked at me like I was stupid for asking.”
Wanda suddenly found the cracked pavement very interesting. “Right.”
Because how could she? Y/N didn't know about the guilt.
About Vision.
About the part of Wanda that still felt responsible for everything that had happened. That it hasn’t been long since the break up. The thought twisted sharply in her chest.
“…Partly,” Wanda admitted quietly.
Yelena leaned back against the car, some of the teasing fading from her expression. “You know Natasha told me once that love is not always dramatic thing.” She shrugged one shoulder. “Sometimes it is just a person who feels like home.”
Wanda's chest tightened painfully. Because that was exactly the problem. Before she could answer, the convenience store door opened.
Y/N stepped back outside carrying two bags absolutely stuffed with snacks. She paused immediately after seeing their expressions.
“…What happened?”
Wanda straightened so fast she almost injured herself. “Nothing.”
Yelena grinned. “Wanda was just telling me how much she enjoys your company.”
Wanda made a horrified sound.
Y/N blinked once. Then—very softly—she smiled.
Wanda’s face burned instantly. “Oh my god,” she muttered under her breath.
Y/N blinked once, still holding the overloaded snack bags in both hands. “…What?”
“Nothing,” Wanda said quickly. Far too quickly.
Yelena’s smirk widened. Wanda refused to look at either of them. She immediately turned and walked toward the car before this conversation could somehow become even worse.
Behind her, she heard Y/N following automatically. Wanda climbed into the backseat without a word, pretending to be deeply interested in literally anything outside the window.
A second later, the back door beside her opened. Wanda looked over automatically—and found Y/N holding out a candy bar.
“…I got you this.”
Wanda blinked.
“What?”
“You liked it yesterday.”
“…Thanks,” she murmured softly, taking it from her.
Y/N nodded once, visibly pleased by her reaction before closing the door and heading back toward the driver’s seat. From the front passenger side, Yelena watched the entire interaction with the expression of someone having every suspicion confirmed in real time.
Neither of them noticed.
A few minutes later, the car pulled back onto the empty highway. The sky had darkened further while they stopped, low clouds hanging overhead as distant thunder rumbled somewhere far away. Inside the car, the atmosphere felt different now. Softer.
Wanda unwrapped the candy bar quietly while trying very hard not to think about the fact that Y/N had remembered her favorite snack after a single offhand comment the day before. Or the fact that, according to Yelena, she'd apparently spent the morning talking about Wanda.
That thought refused to leave.
In the front seat, Y/N drove with one hand resting loosely on the wheel while the other occasionally disappeared into one of the snack bags. Every few minutes, her eyes flicked toward the rearview mirror automatically. Toward Wanda.
Every single time their eyes met, Y/N smiled a little without seeming aware of it. And every single time—Wanda’s stomach flipped embarrassingly hard.
Beside her, Yelena looked out the window to hide another smirk.
---
Nobody’s POV
They reached another motel long after dark. This one was somehow worse than the last.
The neon sign buzzed loudly overhead, missing half its letters, and the entire parking lot smelled faintly like gasoline and old cigarettes. A trucker smoked near one of the vending machines while static crackled from a tiny radio somewhere nearby.
Y/N parked the car and immediately started scanning the area automatically. Four occupied rooms. Two people near the ice machine. No immediate threats. Safe enough.
Beside her, Yelena stretched with a groan.
“If I die in sleep tonight because of cursed motel ghost, I blame both of you.”
“You’d fight the ghost,” Wanda muttered tiredly as she climbed out.
“Obviously.”
Y/N grabbed their bags from the trunk while Yelena headed toward the office to get rooms.
A few minutes later, she returned twirling keycards between her fingers. “One for me,” she announced. “One for emotionally repressed couple.”
Wanda immediately groaned.
Yelena smirked and handed Y/N the second keycard before disappearing toward her room.
Y/N barely paid attention to the teasing this time. Mostly because she was tired. Partly because Yelena had spent the entire day making comments like that. She adjusted the bags over her shoulder and followed Wanda across the parking lot toward the far end of the motel.
The night air was cold enough that Wanda folded her arms tightly across herself almost immediately. Without thinking, Y/N moved a little closer. Then—
“Actually...”
Y/N looked down immediately at the sound of Wanda's voice.
Wanda wouldn't meet her eyes. “You should sleep with Yelena tonight.”
“No.” Y/N frowned slightly, genuinely confused now. “I want to stay with you.” The words came out before she even thought about them.
Simple.
Obvious.
True.
Wanda's face immediately turned red. Again.
Y/N stared. There it was. The thing she'd been trying to understand since the motel the night before.
“That’s not the point,” Wanda muttered.
“Then what is the point?”
Wanda looked away.
Y/N stood there holding both their bags while trying to understand why Wanda suddenly seemed upset again. Just a few hours ago things had been fine. Wanda had laughed. They talked. Y/N bought her favorite candy bar. And Wanda had smiled. Everything had felt normal.
Now it felt like she'd somehow missed an important conversation.
Again.
A thought occurred to her. “…Is this because of yesterday?”
Wanda froze.
Y/N immediately knew she was right. “The bathroom thing?”
“Y/N.”
“I wasn't trying to upset you.”
“I know.”
“Then why are you avoiding me?”
Wanda closed her eyes briefly.
Y/N's confusion only grew. Because she wasn't avoiding Wanda. She wanted to be around Wanda. Always.
That was the problem. At least, it seemed to be the problem from Wanda's perspective. And Y/N still had absolutely no idea why.
Now suddenly Wanda was pulling away again. It made something uncomfortable twist in Y/N's chest.
Wanda rubbed a hand over her face tiredly. “I just want some privacy...”
The words hit harder than they probably should have. Y/N went quiet immediately.
Oh.
For a second, she just stood there beneath the dim motel lights, trying to understand why her chest suddenly felt tight. Then she remembered what Yelena had told her earlier.
Humans needed space sometimes. Especially when they were confused. And Wanda was definitely confused.
Y/N looked down briefly before nodding once. “…Okay.” Her voice came out quieter than before. She shifted the bags in her hands and stepped forward, handing Wanda hers.
Their fingers brushed. Usually Wanda unconsciously leaned toward contact. This time she pulled her hand back first.
Y/N immediately noticed. Something in her chest sank.
“…Goodnight,” she said softly.
Then she turned before she could ask another question she wouldn't get an answer to.
Wanda watched her walk away toward Yelena's room, shoulders slightly tense, steps quieter than usual.
And for the first time since they'd met—Y/N didn't look back. The realization hit Wanda immediately. A sharp ache spread through her chest as she stood alone outside her room. That wasn't what she wanted. Not even close. The motel suddenly felt colder.
Wanda looked toward Yelena's door just as it opened.
Yelena stepped out, took one look at Y/N, then looked across the parking lot toward Wanda. The assessment took less than two seconds. Y/N's expression.
Wanda standing alone. The distance between them. Understanding flashed across Yelena's face immediately. Her amusement disappeared.
“…What happened?”
Y/N shook her head once. “Wanda wants privacy.”
Yelena glanced at Y/N. Then at Wanda. Then back again.
“Come on.”
Y/N hesitated for one last second. Not looking at Wanda. Not checking if she was following. Then she stepped inside.
The door clicked shut behind them. Leaving Wanda alone beneath the flickering motel light while guilt settled heavily in her chest. Because somehow, in trying to create distance, she'd managed to hurt the one person she least wanted to hurt.
---
Y/N’s POV
Yelena’s motel room looked almost identical to other motels. Same dim yellow lighting.
Y/N stood near the door for a moment after stepping inside, one hand still loosely holding her bag while Yelena quietly locked the door behind them.
The silence stretched. Usually silence around Wanda felt easy. This one didn’t.
Yelena noticed immediately.
“…You look like someone’s kicked puppy.”
Y/N frowned slightly. “Nobody kicked me.”
“Mhm.” Yelena tossed her jacket onto the second bed before sitting down cross-legged against the headboard. She watched Y/N carefully for another second.
“You are upset.”
Y/N shook her head automatically. “…No.”
“Very convincing.”
Y/N stayed quiet. Because she didn’t really understand what she was feeling. Her chest just hurt. A little, not physically. Something tighter than that.
Yelena’s expression softened slightly. “She didn’t mean it badly.”
Y/N nodded. “I know.”
And she did know. Wanda wasn’t cruel. Never cruel.
But—
Y/N sat slowly on the edge of the second bed, shoulders lowering as exhaustion finally started catching up to her. “She wanted space,” she murmured quietly, more to herself than Yelena.
Yelena hummed.
“And you do not like space.”
Y/N immediately shook her head. “It’s not like that.”
Yelena raised one eyebrow. “No?”
Y/N frowned, trying to explain the uncomfortable feeling twisting inside her chest. “I just...” She hesitated. “I like knowing she’s okay.”
That part was true.
If Wanda was nearby, Y/N could relax. Sleep deeper, breathe easier. Distance felt wrong in a way she couldn't fully explain to people who weren't like her. Or people who didn't know what an imprint was.
Yelena watched her quietly. “You are aware normal people do not look physically distressed because they sleep in different room for one night?”
Y/N blinked. “…Oh.”
“Mm.”
Y/N looked down again. “I didn’t mean to upset her.”
Y/N's chest tightened again. Because Wanda had never asked for distance before.
Not really.
Even during the strange, confusing moments lately, Wanda still stayed close. Still leaned against her when tired. Still reached for her without thinking.
Tonight felt different.
Y/N rubbed her thumb absently against the edge of her sleeve. “She sounded...” Her voice lowered. “…frustrated.”
Yelena sighed and leaned back against the headboard. “She is frustrated.”
Y/N immediately looked up. “With me?”
“No.”
The answer came so fast that Y/N blinked. “Then with what?”
Yelena stared at her. For a long moment. Then groaned, “Oh my god.”
“What?”
“You genuinely have no idea.”
“I don’t know what that means.”
“I know.”Yelena pointed at her. “That is the problem.”
Y/N frowned deeper.
Yelena dropped her hand over her face dramatically. “Natasha is never going to believe this.”
“Believe what?”
“That two smartest people I know are somehow both idiots.”
Y/N looked mildly offended. “I’m not an idiot.”
“Debatable.”
Y/N stared at her. Completely lost.
Yelena stared back. Completely exhausted. After several seconds, Yelena sighed heavily. “She is not frustrated with you.”
“Then why does she keep running away?”
The question slipped out before Y/N could stop it.
Yelena's expression softened immediately. Because there it was. The real problem.
Y/N looked away. “She keeps getting close.”
Closer. Laughing. Smiling. Leaning against her. Looking at her like she wanted to say something. Then the moment Y/N tried to understand, Wanda would panic and retreat. The pattern was becoming impossible to ignore.
Yelena was quiet for a moment.
“Have you considered she might be scared?”
Y/N frowned. “Of me?”
“No.” Yelena pointed at her again. “Of this.”
Y/N blinked. “This what?”
Yelena dropped backward onto the mattress with a groan. “Unbelievable.”
Y/N remained exactly as confused as before. Which somehow made Yelena groan even louder.
“With herself.”
That confused Y/N even more.
“…How?”
Yelena stared at her for a long moment. “See, this is why I asked if you liked her yesterday.”
Y/N frowned. “I do like her.”
“Yes, I know.”
“No, I mean I like her.”
Yelena pointed at her. “That. That right there.”
Y/N looked even more confused. “What?”
“You say it like it is obvious.”
“It is obvious.”
“To you.”
Y/N hesitated. Then slowly sat back against the edge of the bed. “Maybe because she’s my imprint.”
The room went silent. Yelena blinked. “…Your what?”
“My imprint.”
“What is imprint?”
Y/N frowned slightly, surprised she didn't know. “It’s a wolf thing.”
That explained absolutely nothing. Yelena waited.
Y/N seemed to realize that. “Oh.”
A pause. Then she tried again.
“When wolves find their person.”
Yelena immediately sat up straighter.
“Their person?”
Y/N nodded.
“The one they're meant to protect. Stay with. Take care of.”
Yelena stared. “Oh my god.”
Y/N tilted her head. “What?”
“You never told me that part.”
“I thought it was obvious.”
“Nothing about this is obvious.”
Y/N frowned again. “But Wanda is my imprint.”
Yelena pointed both hands at her.
“Does Wanda know this?”
“No.”
“Have you told her?”
“No.”
“Then how is it obvious?”
Y/N opened her mouth. Paused. Then slowly closed it again. For the first time, she looked uncertain. “…Oh.”
“Exactly.” Yelena dropped back against the headboard. “From Wanda's perspective, you are just showing up everywhere and looking at her like she invented happiness.”
Y/N looked down. That explained a few things.
After another moment, Y/N quietly stood and gathered her clothes. She paused near the bathroom door.
“…Do you think Wanda’s upset with me?”
The uncertainty in her voice softened Yelena’s expression immediately. “No,” she answered honestly. “I think Wanda is trying very hard not to be upset with herself.”
Y/N absorbed that silently before heading to the bathroom.
A few minutes later, the sound of running water filled the small motel room.
Yelena leaned back against the headboard with a long sigh and stared at the ceiling.
“This is painful,” she muttered to herself.
Because somehow these two idiots had managed to fall catastrophically for each other while operating with completely different instruction manuals. It was honestly impressive.
---
Wanda’s POV
The room felt wrong without Y/N in it. Wanda realized that approximately three minutes after closing the door. Which was completely ridiculous. She sat on the edge of the motel bed, still fully dressed, staring at the muted TV while silence pressed heavily around her.
The room suddenly felt colder than it had before. Wanda rubbed both hands over her face with a frustrated groan before falling backward onto the mattress. “This is stupid.”
Because this was what she wanted, wasn't it? Space. Distance. A chance to breathe. So why did her chest ache now that she had it?
Wanda stared at the ceiling while Yelena's words replayed mercilessly in her head.
You like giant wolf girl.
God.
The worst part? Yelena wasn't wrong. Wanda turned onto her side with another frustrated sound, burying half her face in the pillow. Everything had become too much too fast. The touching, the closeness, the way Y/N always noticed her first, the way she smiled every single time Wanda laughed, and now there was something else she couldn't stop thinking about.
The conversation Yelena had told her about.
The fact that Y/N had apparently spent a long time that morning talking about Wanda. The fact that she'd been confused when Yelena asked if she liked her. Like the answer was obvious. Because to Y/N, apparently, it was.
Wanda groaned into the pillow. Because once she admitted that to herself, everything else became harder to ignore too. The jealousy. The way seeing Y/N with Yelena all day had made something ugly twist in her stomach.
The realization made Wanda sit upright immediately.
“Nope.” Absolutely not. She stood and started pacing the tiny motel room instead. Because this was dangerous territory.
Vision had barely been out of her life for a month. And now Wanda was spiraling because a giant wolf woman smiled at her too sweetly?
It made her feel guilty. Confused. Excited. All at once.
Wanda stopped pacing near the window, arms folded tightly across herself. Outside, rain had started again, droplets tapping softly against the glass beneath the flickering motel lights. Her eyes drifted automatically toward the neighboring room.
The ache in her chest returned immediately. Because now all Wanda could picture was Y/N's face after she'd asked for space. That tiny shift in her expression.
The way she'd gone quiet, the way she'd said goodnight, the way she hadn't looked back. That part hurt most. Y/N always looked back. Always checked. Always made sure Wanda was there. Tonight she hadn't.
Wanda pressed a hand against her forehead. Maybe she'd been too harsh.
No. Not harsh. Just—panicked. That was the problem. Because every time Y/N got close, Wanda felt herself wanting things she wasn't ready to want. And every time Y/N pulled away, it felt worse. A miserable realization settled over her.
She missed her. She'd sent Y/N away less than twenty minutes ago. And she already missed her.
“This is insane,” Wanda muttered to herself.
Finally, with a frustrated sigh, she grabbed her clothes and headed toward the bathroom before she could think herself into another crisis.
---
Y/N’s POV
Something woke her up. Y/N’s eyes snapped open instantly. For a second, she stayed completely still on the motel bed, listening. The room was dark except for faint moonlight leaking through the curtains. Across from her, Yelena was asleep sprawled diagonally across the mattress with one arm hanging dramatically toward the floor.
The motel itself was quiet. No footsteps outside. No strange engines. No weapons clicking into place. Nothing dangerous. And yet—something felt wrong.
Y/N sat up slowly, frowning. Her chest felt tight. Restless. Like an instinct tugging somewhere deep inside her. Across the room, Yelena shifted slightly in her sleep but didn't wake. Y/N looked toward the wall separating this room from Wanda's. Her heartbeat. Still there. But the uneasy feeling didn't leave.
Y/N quietly swung her legs over the edge of the bed and stood. The floor creaked softly beneath her bare feet as she crossed the room and pulled on her hoodie.
A few hours ago she'd told herself she would give Wanda space. That she'd stop pushing. Stop making things harder. But now she couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. Not danger. Something else. Something she couldn't explain.
Cold night air wrapped around her the moment she stepped outside. The parking lot sat silent beneath flickering neon lights while distant thunder rolled somewhere far away. Y/N's eyes drifted automatically toward Wanda’s room. Her chest tightened immediately. Before she could stop herself, her feet were already moving. She crossed the parking lot and stopped outside the door.
Silence.
Y/N stared at it. Wanda wanted privacy. The reminder sat heavily in her stomach. She shouldn't bother her. Especially not after tonight. Y/N rubbed the back of her neck and paced once in front of the room. Maybe Wanda was sleeping. Maybe she was finally getting the space she'd asked for. Maybe she was happier without Y/N hovering nearby every five minutes.
The thought hurt more than it should have.
Y/N stopped again. Her instincts screamed at her to check. Just once. Just make sure Wanda was okay. She lifted her hand toward the door—Then froze.
Because what if Wanda opened it and looked disappointed to see her? The thought made her immediately lower her hand.
No. Don't push. She stepped back.
Paced once more. The feeling refused to leave. Y/N glanced around the empty parking lot before exhaling quietly through her nose. Then an idea occurred to her. A familiar one. Something she'd done dozens of times before. Back at the compound. When Wanda couldn't sleep. When nightmares woke her up. When neither of them wanted to talk.
Decision settling into place, Y/N stepped into the shadows beside the railing. Bones shifted beneath skin, and a second later, a massive wolf stood where she'd been. Golden eyes catching the faint motel lights. The wolf padded quietly back toward Wanda's door. This felt different. Safer. Not pushing. Not asking questions.
The wolf lifted one massive paw. Then, Scratch. Scratch. Scratch.
Three soft scratches against the motel door. The exact same pattern she'd always used at the compound.
A silent question. Are you okay?
Then the wolf sat down outside the room patiently. Golden eyes fixed on the door while distant thunder rolled across the night sky.
Waiting.
---
Wanda’s POV
Wanda jolted upright in bed with a sharp breath, heart hammering violently against her ribs. The nightmare still clung to her. Fragments of it flashed through her mind. Darkness. Loss.
Watching people disappear and being unable to stop it. The familiar panic sat heavy in her chest even after waking. Then again—Scratch. Scratch. Scratch.
For one disoriented second, Wanda thought she was back at the compound. Back in her room. Back when nightmares still woke her almost every night. Back when a giant wolf would quietly scratch at her door before curling up beside her bed until she fell asleep again.
Then reality caught up.
Wanda was already moving before she fully processed it. She threw aside the blankets and hurried toward the door, pulse racing for an entirely different reason now. The second she opened it—she froze.
A massive wolf sat quietly beneath the flickering motel light. Golden eyes lifted immediately toward her.
Y/N.
Relief hit Wanda so hard her knees almost weakened. Immediately followed by guilt. Because she'd sent her away. And somehow Y/N had still come.
“Oh my god—Y/N!”
The wolf's ears flicked backward slightly. Wanda grabbed the door quickly and looked around the parking lot. Empty. Thank god.
“Inside,” Wanda whispered urgently. “Now.”
The wolf immediately stood and slipped past her into the room. The second the door shut, Wanda turned toward her with exasperated disbelief.
“What are you doing?” she hissed quietly. “You can't just turn into a wolf outside the motel!”
The wolf lowered slightly. Ears flattening immediately.
“What if someone saw you?”
A soft whine escaped her. Wanda crossed her arms. “I’m serious.”
Another quieter whine. The ears lowered even further. And instantly—all of Wanda's frustration evaporated. Because somehow Y/N looked guilty. Even as a giant wolf.
Wanda let out a long sigh. “You can't do that,” she repeated, softer this time.
The wolf lowered her head. God. Wanda's chest ached. Not because of the nightmare anymore. Because she'd spent the entire evening missing her.
Without thinking, Wanda stepped forward and wrapped both arms around the wolf's neck, burying her face deep in warm Y/H/C fur.
Immediately, warmth surrounded her. The wolf made a soft sound deep in her chest and leaned into her instantly. Like she'd been waiting for permission.
Wanda closed her eyes. “You scared me,” she whispered into the fur.
The wolf huffed softly against her shoulder. For a long moment neither of them moved. Wanda simply stood there holding her while her heartbeat gradually slowed from the nightmare. While the lingering fear drained away. While the horrible emptiness she'd felt all evening quietly disappeared.
Her fingers threaded slowly through thick fur.
“You know,” she murmured after a while, “I think you were right.”
The wolf's ears twitched. Wanda smiled weakly. “The room was awful without you.”
The wolf immediately perked up. Wanda actually laughed. A real laugh. The wolf's tail thumped once against the carpet.
Wanda stared. “Don't.”
Another thump.
“You are enjoying this.”
The tail thumped again.
Wanda rolled her eyes fondly before resting her forehead against soft fur. Then, more quietly—“How do you always know?”
The wolf tilted her head.
Wanda swallowed against the last remnants of the nightmare.
“…When I have nightmares,” she murmured. “How do you always know?”
The wolf stared at her silently.
Then stepped closer until her large head pressed carefully against Wanda's chest. Like the answer was obvious. Like she'd always know.
Wanda's expression softened painfully. She reached up and cradled the wolf's face between her hands before pressing her forehead against soft fur again. And just like that—the room didn't feel cold anymore. Neither did she.
---
Wanda stayed wrapped around her for another long moment, fingers buried deep in soft dark fur while the last remnants of the nightmare slowly loosened their grip on her chest. The wolf stayed perfectly still for her.
When Wanda finally pulled back, golden eyes were already waiting for her, focused entirely on her with that same endless attentiveness that always made her chest ache.
“You really scared me,” Wanda murmured softly.
The wolf's ears lowered immediately. Apologetic.
Wanda sighed. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”
Y/N ears twitched upward again. That made Wanda laugh quietly.
Without really thinking about it, she leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss against the wolf’s muzzle.
The reaction was immediate. A quick warm lick swept instinctively across Wanda’s lips.
Both of them froze. Silence filled the motel room.
Wanda blinked. The wolf stared at her with wide golden eyes. Then suddenly— a distressed whining sound escaped Y/N while her paws shuffled anxiously against the carpet.
I DIDN’T MEAN TO DO THAT.
Wanda blinked again. The whining got louder.
I’M SORRY. OH MY GOD.
Another panicked sound.
THAT WAS A REFLEX.
Wanda stared at her for one long second—then burst out laughing. Not a small laugh. Bright and helpless and exhausted all at once.
The wolf looked absolutely horrified.
I DIDN’T BITE YOU, RIGHT?
That only made Wanda laugh harder. “No,” Wanda managed between laughs, covering her mouth. “No, you didn’t bite me.”
The wolf immediately shoved her nose against Wanda’s shoulder miserably like she wanted to disappear into the fabric of her shirt. Another embarrassed whine escaped her. Wanda’s entire chest warmed painfully at how genuinely mortified she sounded.
“Oh my god,” Wanda laughed softly, rubbing both hands through her fur. “You’re adorable.”
The wolf made an offended sound at that word. Which somehow made it worse. Wanda shook her head, still smiling helplessly before stepping back slightly. “Shift back,” she murmured softly.
The wolf paused. Golden eyes lifted toward her carefully.
Wanda’s heart squeezed immediately at the uncertainty there. Then softly—“Come to bed with me.”
The wolf went completely still. For a second, Wanda thought maybe she’d imagined how intensely Y/N reacted to things in wolf form—until the giant tail behind her thumped once violently against the dresser.
Wanda smiled helplessly before waving one hand lightly. Scarlet magic flickered around the room lamps. “Okay,” she murmured. “Shift back.”
The wolf hesitated. Then slowly stood.
Wanda turned around immediately to give her privacy as the familiar sound of shifting filled the room behind her—bones moving, breath catching softly, claws retracting against carpet.
A few seconds later, silence returned.
Wanda lifted one hand and used her magic automatically, summoning one of Y/N’s shirts and sweatpants from the other room. The clothes appeared and floated gently backward through the air.
“…Thanks,” Y/N murmured quietly behind her.
Wanda’s chest squeezed at how soft her voice sounded now. Still embarrassed.
“You’re welcome.”
Wanda climbed back onto the bed while Y/N got dressed behind her. The mattress dipped softly a minute later as Y/N carefully settled beside her. Not touching. Leaving space which Wanda noticed immediately.
Y/N sat tense near the edge of the mattress for a few seconds before finally speaking quietly into the darkness. “…Is this really okay?”
Wanda turned her head slightly.
Y/N was staring down at her hands now. “You said you wanted privacy,” she added softly. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
The guilt hit Wanda immediately.
Wanda rolled onto her side with a quiet sigh until she was facing her fully.
“You don’t make me uncomfortable.”
Y/N looked up immediately at that. Moonlight from the window softened her features, silver-blue across tired eyes and damp dark hair. Wanda reached up without thinking and brushed her fingers gently through that hair. Y/N immediately leaned into the touch.
Wanda’s chest ached painfully.
Her hand slid lower until she was cupping Y/N’s cheek softly, thumb brushing warm skin. Y/N visibly melted beneath her hand.
“I just panicked,” Wanda admitted quietly.
Y/N frowned slightly. “…Because of me?”
“No.” Wanda smiled faintly. “Well—yes. But not in a bad way.”
That only confused Y/N more. “I don’t understand.”
“I know.”
Y/N’s eyes searched hers carefully before words suddenly started tumbling out all at once. “I didn’t mean to crowd you and I know I stay close a lot and Yelena keeps teasing and maybe I should stop doing that and I know I hover sometimes but I just—”
Wanda leaned forward suddenly and pressed a soft kiss right against the center of Y/N’s nose.
Y/N froze instantly.
Wanda smiled a little despite herself. “There,” she murmured softly. “That stopped you.”
Y/N stared at her with wide eyes.
Wanda’s heart skipped hard in her chest.
God. She was so beautiful like this.
Wanda’s thumb brushed slowly across Y/N’s cheek again.
“…Did it only work because you were in wolf form?” she whispered softly.
Y/N’s breath caught.
Wanda leaned closer before she could lose her nerve. Then gently, but carefully, she pressed her lips against Y/N’s.
Soft. Barely there. A question more than a kiss.
Wanda felt Y/N stop breathing entirely. Their lips lingered together for one suspended second.
Then Wanda whispered softly against her mouth—“…What about there?”
It did. The second the words left Wanda’s lips, Y/N moved. Like instinct finally snapped.
Her hand came up carefully—almost hesitantly at first—cupping Wanda’s jaw as she kissed her back immediately. Not soft this time.
Wanda made a small sound against her mouth, surprised by the sudden intensity of it. Y/N kissed her like she’d been holding herself back for weeks and finally couldn’t anymore.
Which—God. Maybe she had.
Y/N shifted closer instinctively, one hand sliding carefully to Wanda’s waist while her other stayed against her cheek like she was afraid Wanda might disappear if she let go. Wanda melted instantly. Her fingers tangled into Y/N’s dark hair while she kissed her back harder, deeper this time, heart pounding violently against her ribs.
Y/N made a quiet sound low in her throat at that. The noise went straight through Wanda. Every kiss after that became less careful. Though still tender and hesitant in places, it was desperate underneath. All the restrained affection between them suddenly had somewhere to go. Wanda felt Y/N’s hand tighten slightly against her waist when she kissed her deeper, and god—that warmth, that need. It made Wanda dizzy.
Because suddenly every thought she’d been trying to bury for weeks came rushing back all at once.
Budapest. The way she’d imagined pulling Y/N closer beneath her hands. The way she’d woken up flushed and breathless after that stupid fantasy she absolutely should not have had. And now—Y/N was actually here. Kissing her. Wanting her back.
Wanda made another soft sound against her lips before instinct took over completely. Her hands slid from Y/N’s hair down to her shoulders, gripping firmly as she pulled her closer across the mattress. Y/N came willingly immediately. Like she’d been waiting for permission. The movement pressed them flush together, chest against chest beneath the blankets, and Wanda physically felt Y/N shudder at the contact.
God. That reaction alone nearly destroyed her.
Y/N kissed her again instantly, deeper this time, careful restraint cracking apart little by little with every passing second. One of her hands slipped around Wanda’s waist while the other stayed cradling her face like something precious.
Wanda couldn’t stop touching her.
Her fingers dragged through soft dark hair, down the back of Y/N’s neck, across warm shoulders beneath the thin shirt Wanda had summoned earlier.
Real. This was real.
Y/N pulled back just enough to breathe, forehead resting against Wanda’s while both of them tried and failed to calm down. Her eyes searched Wanda’s face carefully. “Is this…Okay?” Y/N whispered softly.
The concern in her voice right after kissing her senseless made Wanda’s chest ache so hard it almost hurt. Instead of answering normally, Wanda slid one hand up into Y/N’s hair again and pulled her back down into another kiss.
A soft sound escaped her as Wanda tugged her fully on top of her this time, their bodies fitting together against the motel mattress in a way that felt almost terrifyingly natural. Wanda’s heart pounded harder the second Y/N settled between her legs.
Y/N kissed her deeper almost instantly, one hand braced beside Wanda’s head while the other slid carefully along her waist like she still couldn’t believe she was allowed to touch her like this.
Wanda definitely wanted her to. Her fingers moved down Y/N’s back slowly, dragging over muscle beneath the thin shirt before gripping the fabric firmly. Y/N shivered against her mouth.
Wanda tugged upward instinctively. Y/N immediately lifted enough to let her pull the shirt off completely without breaking the kiss for more than a second. Wanda’s breath caught instantly at the feeling of Y/N’s bare chest against hers through the oversized shirt she slept in.
Her hands roamed before she could stop them, sliding across toned shoulders and down Y/N’s back again, nails scratching lightly against warm skin. Y/N gasped softly into her mouth. The sound made heat coil low in Wanda’s stomach immediately. Every touch after that became hungrier. Still messy and inexperienced in places. But desperate. Y/N kissed like she felt things too deeply to hold back once she started.
Wanda could feel it in every movement.
Every rough inhale.
Every trembling touch against her waist.
Her fingers curled harder into Y/N’s back when Y/N pressed closer instinctively, and—
Y/N suddenly froze. The kiss broke abruptly. Wanda blinked up at her, breathless and confused. Y/N had pulled back just enough to stare downward, visibly panicked now.
“What?” Wanda whispered immediately.
Y/N looked horrified. “I—”
She swallowed hard and tried shifting backward quickly like she wanted to put distance between them.
Wanda’s brows pulled together instantly. “Y/N?”
Y/N wouldn’t look at her. And then Wanda realized why.
Oh.
Heat rushed straight into her face again. Because pressed between them, unmistakable now, she could feel how hard Y/N had gotten.
Y/N looked mortified. “I’m sorry,” she blurted immediately, panic flooding her voice. “I didn’t mean—I wasn’t trying to—I can stop—”
“Hey.” Wanda caught her face gently before she could spiral any further. “Hey.”
Y/N finally looked at her. Absolutely terrified she’d done something wrong. Wanda’s chest tightened painfully at the sight. “You didn’t do anything wrong,” Wanda whispered softly.
Y/N still looked unconvinced. “But—”
“You’re turned on,” Wanda said gently, trying not to smile at how scandalized Y/N looked by the concept. “That tends to happen when people are making out.”
Y/N looked away again, visibly embarrassed now, her hands planted awkwardly against the mattress like she suddenly didn’t know what to do with them. “I know what it means,” she said quietly. “I just…”
She stopped.
Wanda stayed still beneath her, waiting patiently.
Y/N swallowed hard. “I don’t want you to think that’s all this is.” The words came out rushed, almost panicked. “That I just—I don’t know—got excited and that’s why I kissed you or—”
“Y/N.”
“I mean I did get excited obviously, but that’s not why—”
“Y/N.”
That finally stopped the spiral. Wanda reached up, brushing her fingers gently against Y/N’s cheek until those anxious eyes finally met hers.
“I know.”
Y/N’s shoulders loosened slightly. Only slightly. Because there was still fear there.
Real fear.
Wanda could see it now beneath all the embarrassment.
Y/N hesitated before speaking again, quieter this time. “I’ve never done this properly before.”
Wanda frowned softly.
Y/N immediately looked away again. “I just...” Her jaw tightened. “I was thirteen when Hydra took me…They did things.”The atmosphere shifted instantly.
Wanda’s chest tightened hard.
Y/N’s fingers curled against the blankets like she already regretted saying anything. “They wanted more of me,” she murmured quietly, voice flattening in the way it only did when she talked about Hydra. “More wolves.”
Wanda felt cold all over.
Y/N stared somewhere over her shoulder instead of at her. “And when they couldn’t...” She swallowed once. “They tried other ways.”
That was enough. Wanda understood immediately. Pain ripped through her chest so sharply she almost stopped breathing.
Y/N laughed once. Bitter.
“So technically I know what sex is.” Her voice dropped even quieter. “But not like this.”
Not safe. Not wanted. Not hers.
Wanda’s eyes burned instantly.
Y/N shook her head quickly, like she wanted to take the words back. “I don’t really like talking about it.”
“You don’t have to,” Wanda whispered immediately.
Y/N finally looked at her then.
For a moment neither of them spoke. The motel room felt impossibly quiet.
Then Wanda reached up and gently took one of Y/N’s hands in both of hers.
“You never have to explain those things to justify yourself to me.”
Y/N blinked.
Wanda squeezed her hand softly. “Not tonight. Not ever.”
Something fragile crossed Y/N’s face. The kind of vulnerability she almost never allowed anyone to see. “You’re not... bothered?”
The question shattered Wanda’s heart.
“Y/N.” Wanda lifted their joined hands slightly. “You survived.”
Y/N looked down.
“That’s not something you need my forgiveness for.”
Silence.
Y/N’s throat worked once. Twice. Then she laughed softly through her nose. A little unsteady. “You make everything sound simple.”
“It is simple.” Wanda brushed her thumb across Y/N’s knuckles. “What happened to you was wrong.”
Y/N’s eyes closed briefly.
“And none of it changes how I feel about you.”
When Y/N looked at her again, something in her expression had softened. A little less alone.
But suddenly Wanda heard, loud and clear.
Dirty.
Wanda reached up immediately, both hands cradling Y/N’s face firmly.
“Hey.”
Y/N’s eyes flickered uncertainly between hers.
“You are not dirty.”
The thought had barely crossed Y/N’s mind before Wanda answered it out loud. Y/N froze. Fear flashed across her face so quickly Wanda almost missed it. Not fear of Wanda. Fear of what Wanda might have seen. Her breath caught.
“Did you—” She stopped.
Wanda understood instantly.
Y/N’s eyes searched hers anxiously now, bracing for disgust. For pity. For horror.
Wanda’s heart broke all over again. Very gently, she leaned forward and kissed her. Soft. Slow. When she pulled back, she kept their foreheads touching.
“I didn’t look,” Wanda whispered.
Y/N visibly stilled.
“I only heard that thought because you were thinking it so loudly.” A tiny, sad smile touched Wanda’s lips. “Your brain practically shouted at me.”
A horrified sound escaped Y/N immediately. “I didn’t mean to—”
“I know.” Wanda brushed her thumbs beneath Y/N’s eyes. “I would never go digging through your head like that.”
Y/N stared at her quietly. Still scared and uncertain. So Wanda kissed her again.
A tiny kiss. Then another against the corner of her mouth.
“You hear me?” Wanda whispered softly. “I don’t need to see anything to know Hydra hurt you.”
Y/N’s throat moved.
Wanda’s hands remained steady against her face.
“And I don’t need to see anything to know none of it was your fault.”
For a second, Y/N just looked at her. Then her eyes dropped. Like hearing the words was somehow harder than saying them. Wanda felt her chest tighten.
“You survived,” she continued quietly. “That doesn’t make you dirty.”
Y/N closed her eyes. Wanda could see the fight happening behind them. Years of shame, of pain. Years of being treated like something that belonged to other people.
“You are still you,” Wanda whispered.
Y/N’s breath shook.
“And I still see the same person.” Slowly, Y/N opened her eyes again.
Wanda smiled faintly. “The person who brings me my favorite candy bar.”
A tiny huff escaped Y/N.
“The person who scratches at my door when I have nightmares.”
Another tiny huff.
“The person who accepted Yelena, even though she doesn’t stop talking.”
That finally earned the smallest laugh. Wanda’s smile widened.
“The person who always notices when I’m upset.”
Y/N’s expression softened immediately.
“The person who somehow knows exactly what I need before I do.” The laugh faded into something quieter. Something warmer. Wanda brushed her thumb gently across Y/N’s cheek.
“The person who makes me feel safe.”
Y/N froze. Wanda felt her own heart pounding now. Because this part was terrifying. But not nearly as terrifying as losing the chance to say it.
“The person who made me miss her after twenty minutes.”
A startled sound escaped Y/N. Wanda laughed softly. “It was very annoying.”
Y/N’s eyes never left hers. Like she was afraid to blink. Wanda swallowed.
Then Wanda reached up and gently pulled Y/N down toward her.
“The person who I can't stop thinking about.”
Y/N’s breath caught.
“The person who makes me nervous.”
A faint smile tugged at Y/N’s mouth.
“You?”
“Yes, me.”
Another tiny laugh. Wanda’s chest squeezed painfully.
“The person...” She hesitated, suddenly feeling far more vulnerable than she had during any fight she'd ever been in. “The person I think I'm starting to fall for.”
Silence. Complete silence. Y/N stared at her. For one horrible second, Wanda wondered if she'd broken her.
Then Y/N's eyes softened. Not with surprise. With certainty.
“I know.”
Wanda blinked. “You know?”
Y/N nodded once. “You blush every time I get close.”
Despite everything, Wanda groaned. “Oh my god.”
A tiny smile appeared on Y/N's face. “I like you too.”
The words landed so gently that for a second Wanda almost missed them. Then her heart stopped.
“What?”
Y/N looked embarrassed immediately. But she didn't look away.
“I like you.” Simple. Honest. Like she'd been carrying the truth for a long time.
Wanda stared at her. Then before she could overthink it, she grabbed the front of Y/N's shirt and pulled her down into a kiss. Y/N made a surprised sound against her lips before kissing her back immediately. All the fear that had been sitting between them seemed to disappear at once. Wanda smiled into the kiss. Y/N kissed her again. And again. Neither of them seemed capable of stopping. The world narrowed down to warmth, laughter, and the relief of finally being honest with each other.
After a moment, Y/N shifted closer instinctively. The movement was completely automatic. Unthinking. She moved further between Wanda’s legs, pressing closer as the kiss deepened.
Wanda felt it immediately. The firm pressure of Y/N’s arousal brushing against her through their clothes. For a split second, neither of them seemed to process what had happened. Then Y/N shifted again without thinking and accidentally pressed more firmly against her. Both of them froze.
The kiss breaking apart.
Y/N’s eyes widened in horror as realization crashed over her. Wanda stared up at her, equally stunned. For one long second, neither of them moved. Then Wanda buried her face against Y/N’s shoulder as a breathless laugh escaped her.
“I think...” she managed between embarrassed laughter, “maybe we should sleep tonight.”
The mortified sound Y/N made only made her laugh harder. Y/N went bright red. Immediately.
“Right.”
“Very much right.”
“Sleep.”
“Yes.”
Y/N nodded so fast it was almost impressive.
“Definitely sleep.”
Wanda laughed again and brushed a kiss against her cheek.
Neither of them moved for several seconds. Still tangled together, smiling.
Eventually Y/N carefully settled beside her beneath the blankets. But Wanda immediately rolled toward her anyway. Y/N's arm wrapped around her without hesitation. Safe. Home.
Within minutes, the tension that had haunted the entire day finally began to fade. And for the first time in a long time, both of them fell asleep smiling.
---
Yelena’s POV
By the next morning, Yelena knew something had happened.
Not because anyone said anything. Because both of them were acting weird.
Well—weirder.
Yelena leaned against the hood of the car, sipping terrible gas station coffee while watching Wanda and Y/N approach from the motel office carrying breakfast.
Y/N was smiling. Not occasionally. Constantly. At Wanda talking. At Wanda handing her coffee. At Wanda literally existing.
It was honestly disgusting.
And Wanda—
Wanda wasn't much better. Yesterday she'd been tense. Guarded. Pretending not to stare. Today she kept drifting closer without even realizing it.
When they reached the car, Y/N handed her a coffee. Wanda accepted it, then immediately reached up and brushed a loose strand of hair out of Y/N's face. The movement was completely natural.
Neither of them seemed to notice.
Yelena nearly threw her coffee into traffic. Interesting. Very interesting.
Also—Y/N never came back to her room last night. Which already told Yelena something important.
Not what she'd originally assumed.
Because one look at them made it obvious neither of these idiots had gotten much farther than finally admitting their feelings. They had the exact same energy as two people who had stayed awake all night talking and then spent the morning staring at each other like they'd discovered fire.
Yelena hated it.
Y/N opened the passenger door for Wanda automatically. Wanda rolled her eyes but smiled anyway before getting inside.
Disgusting. Absolutely disgusting.
Y/N started walking around toward the driver's side when Wanda reached out instinctively and caught the sleeve of her flannel. Tiny movement. Barely noticeable.
But Y/N stopped immediately. Turned around without hesitation. Wanda said something too quiet for Yelena to hear. Y/N's entire face softened.
Oh my god. They were unbearable already.
Yelena climbed into the backseat with the exhausted expression of someone trapped between two people who were one shared playlist away from becoming completely insufferable. The engine started a moment later.
And immediately—Wanda reached over and stole one of Y/N's hash browns without asking.
Y/N looked offended for approximately half a second before sighing dramatically and handing her the entire bag.
“You said you weren't hungry.”
“I changed my mind.”
“That's my breakfast.”
“You're big. You'll survive.”
Y/N muttered something under her breath, but there was absolutely no annoyance behind it. Worse. She looked fond.
Yelena stared at the back of Y/N's head in horror. Oh, they were down catastrophically bad.
A few minutes later, Wanda noticed a smear of ketchup near the corner of Y/N's mouth. Without thinking, she reached over. Y/N immediately stopped talking. Wanda wiped it away with her thumb.
“Thanks,” Y/N said softly.
“You're welcome.”
Then Wanda went right back to eating Y/N's breakfast like she hadn't just short-circuited the driver's brain. Yelena considered jumping out of the moving vehicle. The car rolled back onto the empty highway while morning sunlight slowly spread across the road ahead.
Nobody said a word. Nobody had to.
By then, Yelena had reached to a conclusion. Natasha absolutely owed her money for putting her in the middle of this emotional disaster.
---
Unknown POV
The motel looked almost abandoned in the afternoon light.
Most of the guests had already left hours ago, leaving behind an empty parking lot shimmering beneath the heat. Somewhere nearby, a broken ice machine rattled loudly while insects buzzed lazily around the flickering neon sign. A motel room door opened quietly. A man stepped outside, shielding his eyes briefly against the sun before looking toward the far end of the parking lot. His gaze slowly lifted toward the old security camera mounted above the motel office. Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out a phone. The call connected immediately.
“Yes,” he said calmly. A pause. “The wolf was here.”
His eyes drifted briefly toward the motel rooms again. “The camera caught it.” Another pause. “No. I’m certain.”
He reached into his jacket and pulled out a small flash drive between gloved fingers. “The fur color changed,” he continued quietly. “H/C this time.” Silence answered him for a moment. The man’s expression shifted slightly at whatever was said next. “Yes,” he murmured. “That’s what I thought too.”
A truck rumbled loudly past the motel on the distant highway. The man watched it disappear southbound. “They left this morning,” he said. “Heading south.” Another long pause.
Then—“No. They didn’t notice surveillance.” His gaze flicked once more toward the camera above the office. “The Maximoff woman is still with her.”
A faint crackle came through the speaker. The man listened carefully before nodding once. “…Understood.” The call disconnected.
For a few seconds, he remained standing there in the afternoon heat, thumb resting lightly against the flash drive in his hand. Then slowly—he smiled.
Summary: Being the Chief of Neurosurgery at Hospital Vall d'Hebron is an elite, high-stakes life; being Alexia Putellas’s secret girlfriend is an entirely different kind of stress. When you overhear Alexia brutally downplaying your relationship to her inner circle just to protect her privacy, you don't fight. You just glaze over. You match her secrecy with a total, frozen wall of clinical silence. But when months of heartbreaking distance and back-to-back craniotomies push your body past its breaking point, you collapse on the hospital floor. Receiving a terrifying call from the ER, a frantic Alexia has to rush to your bedside, face the devastating fallout of her own words, and fight with everything she has to win back the brilliantly funny, unbreakably clingy woman she nearly destroyed.
The brain was entirely an organ of electricity and structural tolerance. It could process trauma, map intricate motor pathways, and withstand the extreme pressure of a high-speed collision, provided the blood supply remained pure. But as the Chief of Neurosurgery at Hospital Universitari Vall d'Hebron, you knew that even the most brilliant neural networks had a definitive, absolute threshold. If you pushed a system too hard without letting it cool down, the circuits would simply melt.
For three years, your relationship with Alexia Putellas had been your sanctuary—the one place where you didn't have to be the youngest, sharpest surgical chief in the country.
It was a beautiful, hyper-passionate romance that everyone in your close-knit surgical department joked about because of how utterly, shamelessly clingy you were. Despite your high-stress career cutting into human skulls, the moment you stepped through the door of her villa in Pedralbes, you transformed. You were the girl who would wrap herself around Alexia’s back like a koala while she tried to cook dinner, the one who would crawl into her lap on the sofa and refuse to move for hours, burying your face in her neck until she laughed that rich, raspy laugh and held you against her chest like you were the only solid thing in her world. Alexia loved it. She matched your energy completely, her powerful athlete's arms locking you against her body with a fierce, possessive warmth that made you feel utterly invincible.
But that beautiful reality came with a shadow: it was completely, entirely secret.
Alexia was a global icon, her every movement tracked by the media, her private life an endless source of public speculation. At first, you didn't mind the shadows. You were a busy woman; you had a department to run, a residency program to oversee, and a never-ending rotation of complex craniotomies. You didn't need the flashing cameras. You didn't need the red carpets.
But hiding a three-year relationship required a heavy tax. It meant deleting your digital footprint, leaving her house through the service elevator, and sitting in the stadium stands three rows behind her family, pretending you were just an acquaintance from the medical consultant staff if anyone looked too closely.
You had tolerated the sacrifice because you believed the foundation was unbreakable. Until the night the structure gave way.
It was a late Friday evening, following a massive Champions League victory at the Estadi Olímpic Lluís Companys. Alexia had hosted a small, private gathering at her home for a few childhood friends from Mollet and a couple of influential sports executives who had helped manage her commercial image. Because you had just finished a grueling twelve-hour surgical shift removing a complex glioma, you had arrived late, slipping through the back entrance into the kitchen to grab a glass of water.
As you walked down the short, tiled corridor leading toward the auxiliary lounge, you heard voices through the partially open oak door.
"Come on, Ale, we saw the way that doctor looks at you," a prominent sports agent scoffed, his voice dripping with casual, elite cynicism. "She’s been at almost every private dinner this month. The media is starting to ask if she's more than just a medical advisor. Is she the reason you haven't been linked to anyone else? Are you actually dating her?"
You stopped in the shadow of the hallway, your hand freezing against the cold glass of water. A soft, hopeful flutter bloomed in your chest. You wondered, just for a fraction of a second, if after three years, Alexia was finally going to claim you out loud in front of her inner circle.
Then, Alexia’s laugh echoed through the room. It wasn't the warm, genuine sound that usually vibrated against your skin when you slept. It was sharp, cold, and laced with a defensive, dismissive armor.
"¿Qué dices? No, por favor," Alexia said, her tone carrying an air of total indifference that made your blood instantly run cold. "Y/N is just a neurosurgeon the club utilizes for head trauma consultations. She's great at her job, sure, but she's completely exhausting to be around outside the hospital. She's way too needy, constantly hovering around me like a lost puppy because her own life is just boring charts and operating theatres. She’s just convenient company when I need to decompress between training blocks, guys. It’s nothing real, I promise you. I wouldn't date someone that high-maintenance."
The world simply stopped spinning.
The air in the corridor felt like liquid nitrogen as it rushed into your lungs. Exhausting. Needy. Lost puppy. Convenient company. The words didn't just pierce your heart; they completely, surgically dismantled your entire reality. The very clinginess she had spent three years encouraging, the affection she claimed kept her grounded, was suddenly reduced to an embarrassing, high-maintenance nuisance she mocked to protect her precious privacy. To save herself from a moment of uncomfortable scrutiny from a sports agent, she had completely rewritten your entire love story into a pathetic joke.
You didn't cry. You didn't storm into the room to demand an apology. When a neurosurgeon encounters a catastrophic, uncontainable hemorrhage on the operating table, her emotions freeze into total absolute zero. Panic is a luxury for people who don't hold lives in their hands.
You quietly set the glass of water down on the console table, walked out of the back door, and drove your car back to your small, empty apartment near Vall d'Hebron without looking back a single time.
The silence began the next morning, and it was absolute.
When Alexia woke up, she sent her usual morning text: "Woke up and my koala wasn't here :( Did you have to go in for an emergency surgery, mi amor? Call me the second you're free, I miss you."
The message was marked as read. But no answer came.
By Monday, the silence had transformed into a terrifying, unyielding wall. Alexia had called you twenty times, each attempt dropping straight into the void of a standard corporate voicemail. She sent endless messages, watching the grey ticks turn blue instantly, but the screen remained entirely blank. The complete, sudden withdrawal of your presence felt like the sudden loss of oxygen in a room.
On Tuesday evening, completely beside herself with an uncontainable panic, Alexia drove straight to Vall d'Hebron. She knew your schedule by heart; she knew you were finishing a grand rounds presentation at 7:00 PM. She waited outside the secure glass doors of the neurosurgery administrative wing, her hands shoved deep into her jacket pockets, her heart hammering against her ribs.
When the doors finally slid open, you walked out, flanked by three senior residents and an attending physician. You were wearing your navy blue scrubs beneath a perfectly pressed white lab coat, your hair pulled back into a sharp, professional twist. You were explaining a complex ventricular shunt procedure, your voice carrying that effortless, funny, and brilliant spark that always made your students adore you.
"Y/N!" Alexia called out, her voice cracking slightly as she took a step forward, completely forgetting the hospital staff around you.
The residents stopped, their eyes widening as they recognized the legendary Barcelona captain standing in their hallway.
You stopped too. But your face didn't change. Your hazel eyes, which usually filled with an absolute, radiant joy whenever she appeared, were completely blank. Looking at you was like staring at an unyielding pane of surgical glass.
"Ah, Captain Putellas," you said, your voice entirely level, professional, and completely devoid of a single ounce of warmth. You turned to your residents with a calm, clinical smile. "Go ahead to the ICU and prepare the post-op orders for bed four. I will join you in five minutes."
The doctors nodded quickly, sensing the sudden, suffocating drop in atmospheric pressure, and hurried down the hall.
Once they were out of sight, Alexia took a desperate step closer, her hands reaching out to grab your arm. "Y/N, thank God. Why haven't you answered my texts? I’ve been going out of my mind for three days. I went to your apartment, but you changed the entry code—"
"Please do not touch me in a professional environment, Captain," you said smoothly, stepping back just enough to keep a definitive, unyielding physical distance between you. You didn't raise your voice; you didn't look angry. You looked like an attending physician speaking to a stranger who had lost their way in the corridor. "If the club requires an evaluation for a head injury or a neural consultation, please have your athletic department submit a formal request through the administrative portal. My schedule is currently entirely booked with actual medical emergencies."
Alexia felt the air leave her lungs as if she had been hit by a stray tackle. The coldness in your voice was a physical strike. "What... what are you doing? Why are you calling me that? Y/N, please, it's me. It's Alexia. What happened?"
"I am simply maintaining the boundaries you require," you replied, your gaze fixed somewhere just past her left ear, completely refusing to lock eyes with her. "Out of sight. In secret. Like an exhausting, high-maintenance puppy that doesn't actually exist in your real life. I wouldn't want to overextend my welcome as your 'convenient company,' Captain. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a craniotomy to perform."
Before she could form a single word, you turned on your heel, your white coat billowing slightly behind you as you walked through the secure double doors, the magnetic lock clicking shut with a heavy, definitive thud.
Alexia stood frozen in the middle of the sterile hospital hallway, the realization crashing down on her like a physical weight. The hallway. The auxiliary lounge. Her mind raced back to Friday night—the careless, defensive, arrogant words she had thrown out to a sports agent just to avoid a moment of personal vulnerability, to keep her world locked in its safe, sterile box. She had forgotten that you were in the house. She had completely forgotten that you were coming from a twelve-hour shift just to see her.
"No," Alexia whispered, her hands dropping to her sides as a sickening, suffocating wave of guilt flooded her stomach. She had built a fortress to protect her privacy, but she had accidentally crushed the only woman who made the fortress worth living in under the rubble.
The next two months were a brutal, agonizing descent into absolute hell for Alexia Putellas.
An elite athlete is trained to handle adversity. When a match is slipping away, Alexia knew how to double her efforts, increase the intensity, and force a victory through sheer strength of will. But you weren't a football match; you were a brilliant neurosurgeon who had completely erased her from the architecture of your life.
You blocked her personal phone. You blocked her on every digital platform. When she sent massive arrangements of lilies and white roses to your private office at Vall d'Hebron, you quietly told the nurse to distribute them to the pediatric oncology ward, never keeping a single petal. When she waited outside the hospital parking garage at 2:00 AM in the pouring rain, hoping to just see your face, you drove past her car without a single glance, your eyes fixed straight ahead on the road.
The complete, total absence of your warmth was destroying her.
Alexia couldn't sleep. Her performance on the pitch began to suffer; her passing was uncharacteristically sloppy, her presence in the midfield distracted and hollow. During a training session at Joan Gamper, Mapi León had finally grabbed her by the training bib after Alexia missed three consecutive tactical runs.
"What the hell is wrong with you, Ale?" Mapi demanded, her eyes full of genuine concern. "You look like a ghost. You've lost weight, your head isn't in the game, and you look like you’re about to collapse. Is this about Y/N? What happened?"
Alexia buried her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking with a quiet, broken sob that shocked her teammate. "I broke it, Mapi. I said something horrible to protect the secret, and she heard me. She won't look at me. She won't speak to me. She looks right through me like I’m made of glass."
"Then you don't stop fighting," Mapi said softly, her hand resting heavily on Alexia’s shoulder. "A neurosurgeon spends her whole life fixing things people think are impossible. If you want her back, you have to show her that you're willing to throw away the whole damn box just to hold her hand in the light."
But while Alexia was dying of heartbreak in Pedralbes, you were dying of sheer, unadulterated exhaustion at Vall d'Hebron.
Burnout among surgical chiefs is a silent killer. To cope with the gaping, agonizing void in your chest where Alexia’s warmth used to be, you had thrown yourself into your work with a terrifying, self-destructive intensity. You took every on-call shift. You volunteered for every emergency trauma surgery. You spent forty-eight consecutive hours in the operating theatre, living on bitter hospital coffee and stale vending machine crackers, completely refusing to let your mind rest for even a second. If you stopped working, the memory of her laugh would find you. If you slept, you would dream of her arms around your waist. So, you simply refused to sleep.
Your colleagues noticed. Your chief resident, a close friend named Dr. Lucas Méndez, had tried to intervene multiple times. "Y/N, you look grey. Your hands are steady under the microscope, but you’re running on pure adrenaline and spite. You need to go home. You’ve done four craniotomies in thirty-six hours."
"I'm fine, Lucas," you had muttered, your voice raspy and thin as you stared at a set of MRI scans. "The department needs me."
The breaking point arrived on a rainy Thursday afternoon, precisely nine weeks after the night in the corridor.
You had just finished a grueling, five-hour emergency surgery to repair a ruptured aneurysm in an eight-year-old child. The procedure had been a complete success, but the physical and emotional toll was the final straw your system could bear. As you walked out of the scrub room, tearing your surgical mask from your face, a sudden, violent wave of dizziness hit you.
The sterile white walls of the corridor began to spin rapidly, turning into a blur of fluorescent light. A high-pitched ringing filled your ears, completely blocking out the sound of the hospital alarms. Your knees felt like water, your lungs refusing to expand as a cold, clammy sweat broke out across your forehead.
"Dr. Y/N?" a nurse called out, her voice sounding a million miles away. "Doctor, are you—"
Before she could finish the sentence, your vision went completely black. Your body collapsed like a deck of cards, your head narrowly missing the metal chart trolley as you hit the linoleum floor of the surgical ward, completely unconscious from sheer physical exhaustion, profound dehydration, and a heart that had simply run out of fuel to pump.
At the Ciutat Esportiva, the afternoon training session had just concluded. Alexia sat on the wooden bench in the locker room, her head bowed, staring blankly at the floor tiles while her teammates showered around her. She felt a heavy, suffocating dread in her chest all day, an unexplainable weight that made it hard to breathe.
Suddenly, her phone, resting on the bench beside her, began to vibrate violently.
An unknown, corporate landline number flashed across the screen. Normally, Alexia ignored unsaved numbers during training, but an instinct older than her career made her slide the screen open instantly.
"¿Sí?" she said, her voice raspy.
"Is this Alexia Putellas?" a sharp, authoritative voice asked. The background noise was a chaotic symphony of rhythmic bleeps, rushing footsteps, and overhead pages. A hospital.
Alexia’s blood turned to ice instantly. She stood up from the bench, her hand gripping the phone so hard the plastic creaked. "Yes. Who is this?"
"This is Dr. Elena Torres from the Emergency Department at Hospital Vall d'Hebron," the voice said, urgent but professional. "We have Dr. Y/N here. She collapsed outside the surgical theatres twenty minutes ago due to severe physical exhaustion, acute dehydration, and a critically low blood pressure spike. She’s stable now, but she's completely unresponsive to standard discharge protocols and is currently on an IV drip in ER Bay Three. Before she lost consciousness completely, she had her phone open to your contact info from an old chat archive. We need an immediate family member or designated contact to come down here, sign her medical leave forms, and take her home. She cannot be left alone in this state."
The locker room completely vanished from Alexia’s field of vision.
"I'm coming," Alexia choked out, a cold, violent wave of terror gripping her throat. "I’m ten minutes away. Please... please take care of her. I’m coming right now."
She didn't change out of her training kit. She didn't grab her bag. She threw her car keys into her pocket, ran out of the facility in her slides, and tore down the highway toward Vall d'Hebron like a woman running out of a burning building. The speed limit didn't exist. The traffic didn't exist. The only thing that existed in her universe was the terrifying image of your brilliant, funny, beautiful face lying pale under a harsh hospital sheet.
When she arrived at Vall d'Hebron, she didn't care about the people recognizing her in the lobby. She sprinted through the sliding glass doors of the Emergency Department, her chest heaving, her eyes wild as she scanned the signs until she found the high-security entrance to the treatment bays.
"Emergency Bay Three!" Alexia gasped to the triage nurse, slamming her palms down against the desk. "Dr. Y/N. I’m Alexia Putellas. They called me."
The nurse looked up, her expression softening with a mixture of recognition and gravity. She pointed down the long, chaotic corridor. "Bay Three is on the left, Captain. The attending doctor is waiting for you."
Alexia threw the curtain aside, her breath catching in her throat as she stepped into the small, sterile cubicle.
The sight broke something fundamental inside her soul.
You were lying on the narrow hospital bed, looking incredibly small beneath the coarse white blanket. Your face was almost translucent, your lips dry and chapped, with deep, purple-grey hollows beneath your closed eyes. A clear plastic oxygen cannula sat beneath your nose, and a thick IV line was taped to the back of your pale hand, pumping fluids into your exhausted system. The brilliant, sharp, hilarious Chief of Neurosurgery looked entirely deflated—broken by the very world she had tried so hard to cure.
Dr. Elena Torres, an older physician with a stern, no-nonsense expression, stood at the foot of the bed, reviewing a chart. She looked up as Alexia entered, her eyes dropping to Alexia’s sweaty training gear.
"You're the emergency contact?" Dr. Torres asked, her voice clipped.
"Yes," Alexia whispered, her eyes never leaving your face as she walked slowly to the side of your bed, her knees trembling so badly she had to grip the metal guardrail to stay upright. "What... what happened to her? She’s a doctor here. How did nobody see this coming?"
"Doctors are the worst patients, Miss. Putellas," Dr. Torres said with a heavy, tired sigh. "Your girlfriend has performed fourteen complex neurosurgical operations in the last three weeks alone. She has taken every night shift, skipped every administrative break, and according to her department’s cafeteria logs, she hasn't eaten a proper meal in days. Her body simply ran out of glucose and fluid. She didn't faint; her nervous system literally shut itself down to prevent a cardiac arrest from sheer stress and fatigue."
Alexia closed her eyes, a hot, agonizing tear sliding down her cheek, burning her skin. She did this because of me. I drove her to this.
"She needs absolute rest," Dr. Torres continued, handing Alexia a clipboard of medical leave documents. "I have signed her off from the surgical department for the next three weeks, effective immediately. Her keys are in that plastic basin. If you are going to take her home, you need to ensure she drinks fluids, eats solid food, and does absolutely nothing but sleep. If she stands up before tomorrow morning, her blood pressure will drop again. Can you handle that, or should I admit her to the observation ward?"
"No," Alexia said fiercely, her voice thick with emotion as she signed her name across the bottom of the forms with a shaking hand. "She’s coming home with me. I will take care of her. I swear to you, she won't lift a finger."
The drive back to the villa in Pedralbes was conducted in a heavy, fragile silence. You had partially regained consciousness when the nurses moved you to a wheelchair, but your mind was entirely hazy, your body feeling like it was encased in lead. You hadn't even had the strength to protest when you saw Alexia lifting you carefully into the passenger seat of her SUV, wrapping a thick fleece blanket around your shivering shoulders.
When she pulled into her private garage, she didn't let you try to walk. She reached into the car, sliding one powerful arm beneath your knees and the other securely behind your back, lifting your slight frame against her chest in one smooth, protective motion.
Your head automatically rolled into the crook of her neck, an ancient, instinctual habit your body refused to forget even through the fog of your exhaustion. You inhaled the familiar scent of her skin—laundry detergent, sweat, and that deep, intoxicating warmth that had always meant safety to your tired brain.
"Alexia..." you mumbled, your voice a tiny, dry scratch against her skin. "Let me down. I can walk. I have to go back to the ICU..."
"Cállate, mi vida," Alexia whispered fiercely, her voice breaking as she carried you through the private elevator straight into her massive, sunlit master bedroom. "You are not going back to any hospital. You are staying right here."
She laid you down on the giant, king-sized bed with an tenderness that felt almost holy. She carefully stripped off your stiff hospital scrubs, leaving you in a soft, oversized cotton t-shirt, and pulled the heavy, down comforter up to your chin.
For the next two hours, you slipped back into a deep, dreamless sleep. When you finally opened your eyes again, the harsh glare of the afternoon sun had softened into a warm, amber twilight, casting long, lazy shadows across the white walls of the room. The room smelled of fresh lavender and hot chicken broth.
You shifted your head slightly on the plush pillow, and your breath instantly caught in your throat.
Alexia hadn't left. She was sitting directly on the hardwood floor right beside your bed, her back resting against the mattress, her knees pulled up to her chest. She had finally changed out of her training kit into a pair of worn grey sweatpants, but she looked completely shattered. Her face was buried in her palms, her broad shoulders shaking with quiet, rhythmic sobs that she was desperately trying to muffle so she wouldn't wake you.
The sight of the formidable, unshakeable captain of Barcelona weeping on the floor like a heartbroken child completely dissolved the last lingering remnants of your defensive wall. You were a doctor; you knew when a wound had been cleaned, and you knew when it was time to let the tissue heal.
Slowly, with an immense effort, you slid your hand out from beneath the heavy comforter, your pale fingers reaching out until they gently brushed against the soft hair at the nape of her neck.
Alexia bolted upright instantly, her head snapping around, her hazel eyes wild and completely drenched in tears. When she saw that you were awake, your eyes clear and focused on her, a sharp, choked gasp escaped her lips.
"Hey," you whispered, a tiny, fragile smile touching your dry lips. "Why are you crying on the floor? You look like you're the one who survived a twelve-hour shift."
"Y/N," Alexia breathed, her voice a total wreck. She didn't hesitate. She scrambled up onto the mattress, moving with a desperate, frantic energy, but she stopped just an inch away from you, her hands hovering over your face, trembling violently, completely terrified to touch you without your permission. "Are you okay? Does your head hurt? Do you need water? The doctor said you needed to drink this broth, I have it right here—"
"Alexia," you said softly, interrupting her frantic rambling. You reached up, your hand catching her wrist, your fingers sliding down until they interlocked with hers, your grip surprisingly warm despite your weakness. "Come here."
A loud, broken sob escaped her lips at the simple invitation. The two months of agony, the walls of silence, the terrifying image of you on that ER bed—it all collapsed in a single second. She slid down onto the bed beside you, her powerful arms wrapping around your waist with a desperate, terrifyingly tight grip, burying her face into the crook of your neck as she wept openly, her entire body shaking against yours.
"Lo siento, lo siento, lo siento," Alexia cried into your skin, her voice thick and raw with an unbearable weight of guilt. "I am so sorry, Y/N. I am so sorry for the horrible, disgusting, cowardly things I said to those people in the lounge. I was terrified of the media, I was caught off guard, and I used the worst words in the world to protect a secret because I was a coward. I didn't mean a single word of it. I swear on my life, I swear on everything I am... you are not exhausting. You are not a puppy. You are my entire world."
She pulled back just enough to look down into your eyes, her hands framing your face, her thumbs desperately wiping away the stray tears that were beginning to pool in your eyes.
"I loved every single second you wrapped yourself around my back," Alexia wept, her hazel eyes burning with an intensity that left no room for doubt. "I loved the way you would sit in my lap for hours. I missed it so much, Y/N. I spent two months living in an empty house that felt like a tomb because my koala wasn't here. When the hospital called me today... when they told me you collapsed because you were working yourself to death to avoid me... I felt like my heart was being torn out of my chest. Don't do this to me again. Please. Punch me, scream at me, hate me if you have to... but don't run away into the dark where I can't protect you."
You stared up at her, your chest heaving as the sheer volume of her devotion completely filled the empty space in your soul. You saw the raw, bloodshot truth in her eyes. You saw the physical toll the separation had taken on her own body. She had spent two months fighting a war against the very walls she had built, and she had completely demolished them just to get to your bedside.
"Your apology is structurally sound, Putellas," you choked out through a tearful, wet laugh, your hands rising to grip her forearms. "But your tactical execution during that dinner was absolutely atrocious."
Alexia let out a loud, breathless laugh through her tears, her face lighting up with a radiant, emotional joy that made her look like herself again. "I know. I'm an idiot. A complete, total idiot. But I fixed it, Y/N. I swear I fixed it."
She reached into her sweatpants pocket, pulling out her phone and sliding the screen open with a shaking thumb. She turned the screen toward you.
It was a live post on her official Instagram account—the one with over three million followers. It was a beautiful, candid photograph you didn't even know she had taken months ago, showing you sitting on her terrace in the evening light, your hair loose, laughing at something she had said, looking absolutely breathtakingly beautiful.
The caption beneath the photo was written in large, bold letters in both Catalan and Spanish:
“The most brilliant mind in the world, the finest surgeon at Vall d'Hebron, and the only woman I will ever love.”
The comments section was already a chaotic, exploding waterfall of millions of likes, red hearts, and messages of support from fans, teammates, and the entire sporting community. She hadn't just thrown away the box; she had exploded it in front of the entire world.
Your breath completely caught in your throat, a fresh wave of hot, ecstatic tears blurring your vision as you looked from the screen back up to her face. "Alexia... your sponsors... the club executives..."
"Let them talk," Alexia whispered fiercely, tossing the phone onto the nightstand, completely dismissing the entire global media landscape with a wave of her hand. She leaned down, her face stopping just centimeters from yours, her breath warm against your lips. "Let the whole world write the stories. Out there, I am the player. But in this room, on this bed, I am just a woman who is completely, desperately in love with her girlfriend. I don't care about the cameras anymore, Y/N. I just need you. I need my clingy, beautiful doctor back. Please."
The final wall of doubt inside your soul completely turned to dust.
"Okay," you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. "But I told you... I am incredibly high-maintenance when I'm sick."
"Sé lo que me espera," Alexia murmured with a breathless, beautiful smile, and then she closed the final distance.
The kiss was entirely different from the cold, professional distance of the last nine weeks. It was deep, possessive, and filled with a profound, overwhelming warmth that completely healed every single broken circuit in your exhausted brain. Alexia’s lips parted yours with a smooth, intoxicating hunger, her tongue tracing your lower lip with a reverent sweetness that made your soul vibrate. Her powerful arms slid beneath your back, lifting your upper body off the mattress to pull you completely flush against her chest, holding you so tightly it felt like she was trying to fuse your ribs together.
You let out a soft, satisfied sigh into her mouth, your arms instantly locking around her neck, your fingers tangling into the short blonde hair at the base of her skull, pulling her closer, tasting the salt of her tears and the rich sweetness of the broth she had prepared.
When she finally pulled back, just an inch, she didn't let you move. She shifted her body until she was lying completely flat on the mattress beside you, her long legs tangling with yours beneath the heavy comforter, her arm sliding beneath your head to act as a permanent pillow.
The moment she was settled, the high-key, shameless clinginess that defined your relationship returned with a violent, roaring vengeance.
Now that the angst was gone, your body completely demanded the comfort it had been starved of for months. You shifted your hips, crawling across the sheets until your entire front was pressed tightly against her side. You threw your right leg completely over her powerful thighs, pinning her down, and buried your face directly into the warm crook of her neck, your fingers digging into the fabric of her t-shirt as if you were trying to burrow inside her skin.
Alexia let out a rich, deep laugh—that beautiful, raspy sound you had missed so much—and her arms locked around your waist instantly, pulling your hips even closer until there wasn't a single millimeter of space left between your bodies. She began pressing sweet, lingering kisses into your hair, your temple, and the soft skin behind your ear, her hand rubbing slow, soothing circles across your back.
"Madre mía, te extrañaba tanto," Alexia murmured against your skin, her voice full of a warm, sleepy contentment that vibrated straight into your chest. "My little koala is back."
"Shut up," you mumbled into her collarbone, your voice drowsy but full of an absolute, unbreakable happiness as the warmth of her body finally allowed your nervous system to fully cool down. "You said I was a lost puppy. Now you have to deal with the consequences."
"I will deal with them for the next fifty years," Alexia whispered softly, tightening her grip around you, her nose nudging your jawline affectionately. "Drink your broth first, and then you can sleep for three weeks. I’m not letting you go to the bathroom alone, understood?"
"Understood, Captain," you sighed, your eyelids growing heavy as the absolute safety of her presence finally allowed your brain to drift toward a deep, natural sleep.
Outside the windows of the villa in Pedralbes, the rain continued to fall softly over the hills of Barcelona, but inside the master bedroom, the lights were bright, the secrets were dead, and the foundation was completely unbreakable. The surgical chief had officially left the operating theatre, and she was finally home—safe, warm, and entirely clung to the only heart that mattered.
rosa was only supposed to be staying for the morning. well that was what alessia had told herself anyway.
yet three hours in, alessia was sat cross-legged on the living room floor with her ten-month-old niece balanced between her legs, watching rosa enthusiastically attempt to eat a soft toy giraffe while you laughed so hard tears had gathered in your eyes.
"roro, sweetheart, that's not food," you said through a grin. rosa instead paused with the giraffe half way to her mouth as she looked directly at you before immediately shoving the giraffe back into her mouth.
you groaned dramatically as alessia burst out laughing, "oh, she absolutely knows what she's doing."
"no she doesn't."
"she does."
"she's ten months old."
alessia pointed at rosa. "look at that face. thats the face of someone causing problems deliberately." and as if she understood every word, rosa let out a delighted squeal.
the three of you dissolved into laughter and that was the way it had been like that all afternoon.
easy. comfortable. but domestic in a way neither of you got to experience often with football constantly pulling you in different directions.
there had been bottle feeds and naps that didn't happen when they were supposed to.
there had been several dramatic tears because rosa had dropped her favourite toy and to her that was on par with the whole world ending.
there had also been countless moments where alessia had looked over at you and felt her chest ache. not in a painful way. in a way that made her wonder how she had gotten this lucky.
because every single time rosa reached for you, your whole face softened. every time she babbled nonsense at you, you answered as though she was holding a perfectly coherent conversation.
every time she smiled, you smiled right back and alessia couldn't stop watching.
at one point she'd caught rosa crawling determinedly across the rug towards you. you opened your arms immediately. "come on then." you cooed as rosa practically launched herself into your lap.
and the look on your face when you'd hugged her-
god. alessia thought she might have fallen in love with you all over again. not that she'd ever stopped. but somehow moments like this made it worse. or better. probably both.
"why are you staring at me?" you asked with a smile as the sound of your voice pulled alessia from her thoughts.
alessia blinked. "hm?"
"you're doing the thing." you pointed out as rosa stood up against you, pulling at small strands of your pony tail.
"the thing?" alessia questioned, confused at what you were trying to get at.
"the heart eyes thing." you said, not before pulling rosa's tight little grip from your hair as alessia immediately looked away her cheeks blushing a slight shade of pink.
"there it is."
"i wasn't doing anything."
"you absolutely were."
alessia rolled her eyes, yet when she glanced back over, she found you smiling at her. softly. fondly. the same way she knew she was looking at you. the warmth that settled in her chest made her feel almost dizzy.
then rosa sneezed directly into your face and the romantic moment was ruined instantly. as you sat frozen for a moment, processing what had just happened.
alessia stared, before she completely lost it. laughing so hard she nearly fell backwards. "oh my god."
"oh my god?" you looked horrified. "your niece just sneezed in my mouth."
alessia was crying with laughter now and rosa, well she looked incredibly pleased with herself.
—
by the time afternoon rolled around, rosa was becoming noticeably sleepy. she’s gone from excited crawling and babbling to rubbing her eyes every few minutes and becoming increasingly clingy.
currently she was curled against alessia’s chest whilst alessia sat on the floor leant against the couch. a pictured book rested in one hand. the other rubbing slow circles quietly in the doorway.
you stood just across the room, watching on as you made two cups of tea. the room was warm from the sunlight filtering through the windows.
everything felt peaceful and safe.
alessia’s voice had dropped to a soft murmur as she read. not because rosa understood the story. she most likely definitely didn't. but because she liked hearing alessia speak.
the little girl was completely relaxed. one tiny hand curled around alessia’s shirt. her eyes fluttering more heavily with every page.
you couldn't stop smiling. alessia looked beautiful like this. her hair slightly messy. voice gentle as she held rosa as though she was the most precious thing in the world.
your heart squeezed painfully. because this wasn't football alessia. this wasn't the alessia everyone else knew. this was your girl. your alessia.
soft, patient and incredibly loving
the woman who melted whenever she saw her niece. who ried over sentimental videos. who still reached for your hand in crowded rooms but who would also mange to trip over thin air any chance she got.
eventually rosa’s eyes drifted closed completely. alessia continued reading for another few moments just to be safe.
then carefully closed the book as the room became quiet, just the small sound of you pouring milk into the cups.
you watched her stand slowly. every movement careful and deliberate.rosa didn't stir once and she gently settled her into her bouncer tucking a small blanket around her before pressing a kiss to her forehead.
as she stepped back, moving towards you as you handed her a hot mug of tea. as you both looked at the tiny sleeping baby. the little ride and fall of her chest and how peaceful she looked.
alessia leaning lightly into you as you placed sweet kiss to the side of her head before you both moved towards the couch.
the house felt strangely quiet after rosa had fallen asleep and you both found yourselves curled together on the sofa. a blanket thrown across both your laps.
alessia leaning into your side her head resting against your chest and for a while neither of you spoke. simply enjoying the rare silence.
then alessia sighed softly. "what?" you asked as you felt her smile against your shoulder.
"nothing." she said quietly, her hand tracing over a tattoo on your wrist.
"liar." as a quiet laugh escaped her making you tilt your head towards her with a small smile, "what are you thinking about?"
you watched as alessia hesitated and you immediately became curious. because alessia russo was rarely speechless. "less?"
she looked up at you and there it was. that look. the one that always made your stomach flutter. "i really love her." she said quietly.
you smiled. "i know."
"no, i mean..." she laughed softly. "i know she's my niece so obviously i love her. but every time i spend time with her i somehow love her more."
you nodded."roro is pretty easy to love."
"she is." alessia agreed as her gaze drifted towards the ceiling, thoughtful. "i think seeing her grow up has been one of my favourite things."
your expression softened. alessia rarely talked about things like this at least not out loud or very often.
"i like watching you with her." you admitted, as you looked down at her.
her eyes found yours again. "yeah?"
you nodded. "yeah."
the smile that appeared on her face was small. shy. almost. "i like watching you with her too."
you stomach flipped. "you do?"
"course i do." alessia smiled as she reached for your hand. threading your fingers together. "and you don't even realise you do it."
"do what?" you asked as your brows furrowed together.
"the voice."
"what voice?"
"the baby voice."
you groaned immediately, now knowing exactly what she meant as she laughed, “no but it’s cute baby”
"it is not."
"it is."
"it absolutely isn't."
she was grinning now. "it really is." as you shook your head yet you were smiling too. because there was no winning these arguments. not when alessia looked at you like that. not when she seemed so happy.
a comfortable silence settled between you again. then alessia spoke.quieter this time. "do you ever think about it?"
you looked at her. "think about what?"
she swallowed and suddenly looked nervous. "having kids."
your heart skipped. not because the question scared you, the two of you had briefly mentioned it before but scared you because of how vulnerable she sounded asking it.
tou turned slightly towards her, giving her your full attention. as alessia’s eyes searched yours. as though she was trying to gauge your reaction before you'd even answered.
"yeah," you admitted softly. "i do."
something immediately relaxed in her expression. a tiny exhale escaping her.
"yeah?"
you nodded. "yeah." as smile tugged at your lips. "maybe more than i probably should."
alessia laughed quietly. "me too."
the confession hung between you. gentle as neither of you rushing the conversation. neither trying to force it into something bigger than it needed to be.
your brushed your thumb over her knuckles. "you’d be an amazing mum, you know."
the words slipped out naturally because they were true. the way alessia’s face softened nearly broke your heart.
"you think?"
you stared at her. "in every universe, less."
her eyes immediately became suspiciously bright. you leaned forward. pressing a kiss against her forehead. then another against her cheek. “you're patient."
kiss.
"kind."
kiss.
"ridiculously loving."
kiss.
"you read the same page six times because rosa kept trying to eat the book."
alessia laughed through her smile. "that did happen."
"it did." you tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "and any kid would be more than lucky to have you."
for a moment she just looked at you. completely overwhelmed. completely in love. then she reached up cupping your cheek. "i think about it with you."
your breath caught. the confession was quiet. almost whispered. but it hit harder than anything else she could have said.
"i don't just think about having kids." she said in the same quiet tone as her thumb stroked softly across your skin. "i think about having them with you and..”
you felt your eyes sting. not from sadness. from the sheer weight of being loved so completely. so intentionally.
you leaned into her touch. smiling. “and?"
alessia’s small smile returned, slow and beautiful. “and one day… not yet.” she pressed her fore against yours, before planting a kiss to your lips as you chased her lips as she pulled away. “but one day, i think we’d make a pretty good team”
you laughed softly, finding her lips again peppering a few light kisses, “we already do.”
alessia smiled, then kissed you properly. slow and sweet. as her hand rested on yours chin. the type of kiss that felt like home.
and just in the other room, rose slept peacefully through all of it. completely unaware that she'd spent an entire afternoon making two people who were already hopelessly in love somehow fall even harder.
Here is the next part to my Polytrix x Reader Fic, We're a Team, Maybe More.
The girls are recovering and Y/N is starting to realize that maybe, she isn't seeing things the way they should be. Misunderstandings happen and plunges the team into turmoil
This one brings back my favorite thing...angst. Enjoy!
Warnings: Language, Bullying, Self Doubt, Misunderstandings, References to Childhood Neglect/Abuse, References to Physical/Mental Torture, slight violence
Rumi sat with her head low, staring at her hands. At the patterns along her skin. She’d shown them. She’d shown them what she really was. It’d been roughly 24 hours since the whole ordeal happened. Zoey was still asleep and Y/N was keeping watch. Mira went in and out of the room, checking on their youngest member. They were all worried. Stressed that she wouldn’t wake up. Rumi clenched her hands tightly, feeling her nails bite into her skin. She should’ve done more. Even with her power, she’d been too slow.
Gentle hands found her own and she glanced up, seeing Mira kneeling in front of her. Her girlfriend gave her a soft smile as she pried her hands apart.
“You’re hurting yourself,” Mira murmured. Rumi shook her head and averted her gaze. She was, but that was the only thing she could control right now. “Can we talk?”
Rumi’s head shot up and she looked at Mira in alarm. Those words didn’t sound good. Mira’s eyes widened and she shook her head, bringing Rumi’s hands to her lips.
“Not like that, jagiya. Not like that,” Mira quickly explained. Rumi shakily sighed and Mira stood before sitting next to her on the bed. “You hid yourself.”
“Yeah.”
“To protect us?”
“Yeah. I-I was scared I’d lose control…like I did with Eomeoni.”
Mira ran her fingers along her knuckles. “The incident that made Celine quit…that was you?”
Rumi nodded and squeezed her eyes shut. “I didn’t mean to hurt her. I let my emotions get to me and I lost control. Eomma assured me it wasn’t my fault, but it was. I hurt her.”
“So, you wear that ring to hurt yourself?” Mira asked. Rumi flinched and glanced to her nightstand. The ring caught the light, reminding her of its presence.
“It wasn’t intentional. I thought it’d just mask my power,” Rumi answered. She looked down at her hands, seeing the dark, swirling purple. “I hate these patterns. They…they remind me of how dangerous I am.”
Mira remained quiet as she continued to run her fingers along Rumi’s knuckles. Rumi couldn’t tell if she was mad at her. Couldn’t tell what she was thinking.
“Are you…are you mad at me?”
“Yes,” Mira answered. Rumi squeezed her eyes shut, feeling the ache in her chest. Damnit. “I’m mad at you, but I’m more…hurt by you lying.”
“I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“You still did. But I understand why. I’m more upset by the fact that you were hurting yourself than anything else,” Mira spoke. Her hand cupped her face, lifting it. Watery brown eyes stared back at her. “I don’t like you being hurt, Rumi.”
“I’d rather be hurting than ever hurting you.”
“You don’t know that you’ll hurt me. You did so when you were younger. That’s not something you can change or control. But now? Now, we can work on that. I’ll help you learn to trust yourself…”
“I hear a but there.”
“But you don’t get to keep hiding things and hurting yourself.”
Mira leaned forward, resting her forehead against her own. “You don’t have to do this alone.”
“I-I’m sorry,” Rumi stammered. Mira pulled her closer, hugging her tightly.
“It’s okay. I should apologize too. I got mad at you for keeping a secret, but yelling at you wasn’t right. Questioning you wasn’t right. I should’ve just trusted you or gone about it differently,” Mira spoke. She kissed her nose before leaning back. “I’m also sorry for falling for Chi’s taunting. You wouldn’t have had to deal with this had I just listened.”
Rumi gave her a shaky smile. “I guess we both need to work on communicating.”
“I guess so,” Mira wetly chuckled. Rumi leaned forward and kissed her. It was a soft kiss that she felt Mira smile into. A loving one that made them melt. Mira pulled away with a hum. “Did you know your patterns glow?”
“What?” Rumi questioned, looking down at her hands. They were indeed glowing. They were gold. She blushed and covered her eyes with a groan. “Why?”
“Huh, pink is embarrassed. Noted.”
“Mira!”
“What? I’m just making an observation,” Mira chuckled. Rumi pouted and lowered her hands, seeing the amusement on her girlfriend’s face. “Can you promise me something?”
“What?”
“Can you try to wear that ring less? I know that you might not stop completely, but can you at least give yourself a break from it?”
“…I’ll try.”
“Okay,” Mira smiled. She stood and held out her hand. “Want to check on Zoey with me?”
Rumi nodded and took Mira’s hand. She pulled her to her feet and the two of them headed for Zoey’s. A sharp pinch to her butt made her yelp. “Hey!”
“Yup, embarrassed. Just had to make sure.”
“I-you-why?!”
“I just wanted to double check,” Mira hummed. She leaned in close, whispering into her ear.
“For the record, I think you look very sexy with the patterns. I bet you look even sexier without any clothes on.”
Rumi’s face heated and her patterns glowed brighter. “Stop that!”
Mira chuckled and knocked on the door. They heard Y/N say enter and they opened it. The woman was sitting on a chair next to the bed, strategically placed between the door and Zoey.
“How is she?”
“Still asleep. She did mumble something about an octopus though.”
“Did you learn something?”
“Apparently, octopuses have three hearts,” Y/N shrugged. She leaned back in her chair, rubbing at her leg. There was still damage from being in the water and then in the cold. Rumi had called her mom, and she’d stated that she’d come visit later today. “Don’t look at me like that.”
“Like what?” Rumi asked. Y/N glanced at them with a glare. Right. Rumi sighed while Mira moved to the woman’s side. She carefully lifted the edge of Y/N’s shorts, revealing the irritated skin.
“Can you remove this?” Mira asked.
“I have no idea how,” Y/N answered. Rumi made a mental note to ask her mom how to remove the leg. Mira nodded and went to the bed, adjusting the blankets around Zoey. “She keeps flailing around and kicking the blankets off.”
“She needs to keep them on. Being out in the cold like that and using all her magic will make her sick.”
“You try telling her that,” Y/N grumbled. Mira smiled and Rumi went to her side, grabbing a blanket from the dresser. She draped it over Y/N’s shoulders and pulled it tight around her.
“You need to rest.”
“Once Zoey wakes up.”
“She could be out for an hour, maybe even another day. It just depends on how she feels,” Rumi argued. She cupped Y/N’s face, making her meet her gaze. Her Y/E/C eyes were so tired. She could see the fatigue in her entire body. “Rest. I’ll wake you up the second Zoey does.”
“…okay,” Y/N relented. She went to sit on the floor, and Mira stopped her with a gentle hand on her shoulder.
“You are not sleeping on the floor.”
“But—”
“Get your ass on the bed. It’s big enough for the two of you,” Mira interrupted. Y/N huffed and allowed Mira to pull her onto the bed. She reluctantly lied next to Zoey, keeping herself at an arm’s length. Her body was tense as she stared at Zoey’s sleeping face. Mira reached down, carding her fingers through the woman’s hair. Y/N let out a content sigh. “Sleep. We’ll wake you up when Zoey does.”
Y/N’s body slowly relaxed and Rumi made sure she was tucked in. The woman’s breathing quickly deepened as she fell asleep.
“That didn’t take long,” Mira pointed out.
“That’s because you’re giving her a head massage,” Rumi teased. Mira half-heartedly glared at her as she continued to run her fingers through Y/N’s hair. “You aren’t doing a good job at denying those cinnamon roll comments.”
“I will kick you off the bed,” Mira deadpanned. Rumi chuckled and went to sit on the other side of Zoey. The maknae scooted closer to her, hand blindly reaching out. Rumi gently took it and ran her thumb along her knuckles. “I hate to say it, but they’re cute right now.”
“That’s creepy, Mir.”
“Oh, fuck off.”
Rumi stuck her tongue out at her before lying down beside Zoey. “Have I ever told you how much I like our big bed?”
“Almost every day,” Mira groaned. She didn’t move from her spot, but her own posture relaxed. Rumi was glad that she was comfortable enough to relax. “You can sleep if you want.”
“I’m not tired,” Rumi yawned. Mira raised an eyebrow at her, making her grumble. “Wake me up in thirty minutes.”
“Okay.”
Rumi ran through the trees, chasing her target. She knew what she needed to do. She knew how she needed to do it. Her body thrummed with power as she ran. She’d never felt this power in her body. She’d always felt weak. Her target was only a few feet in front of her and she growled, claws extending as she did. They were right there and she was going to catch them. She lunged, colliding solidly with the person before them. Her claws tore into soft flesh, eliciting a cry of pain from them. She frowned at the familiarity to that cry. She stared down at her target, eyes widening as she did. Mira. Her girlfriend was gasping for breath, wheezing and failing to fill her lungs. How could she? Her throat was torn out. Her chest too. Mira gaped at her and Rumi frantically tried to stop the bleeding.
“You killed her,” Zoey accused. Rumi twirled, seeing the maknae standing behind her. She had a bleeding chest wound, face ashen as she glared at her. Y/N lied dead at her feet, blood pooling beneath her. “Like you killed us.”
Rumi woke with a gasp, shooting up to clutch her chest. Her heart was beating erratically while her chest seemed to constrict. She couldn’t breathe! Hands found her face, forcing her to turn. Mira firmly held her, eyes swimming with worry. Her mouth moved, but Rumi couldn’t figure out what she was saying. She shook her head and squeezed her eyes shut. It hurt to breath. Everything hurt. A hand pressed against her own, pushing harder against her chest. She glanced down, seeing the bits of scales there. Y/N. She took an exaggerated breath and Rumi frowned at her. Y/N huffed and did it again. Mira copied and took Rumi’s free hand, placing it against her own chest. She felt her chest expand, then retract with her large breaths. Rumi took the hint and copied their breathing. She breathed deeply into Y/N’s hand in sync with Mira. The tightness in her chest started to loosen and it became easier for her to hear.
“You’re alright, jagiya. Breathe with us,” Mira calmly spoke. Rumi leaned forward, resting her forehead against Mira’s shoulder. Her girlfriend gently scratched the back of her neck, making her shiver. “I’ve got you.”
“S-sorry.”
“Don’t you dare apologize,” Mira countered. Rumi closed her eyes, feeling guilty about the entire ordeal. She’d woken Y/N. Made Mira worried. That wasn’t fair to either of them. “Did you have a nightmare?”
Rumi nodded in response.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
Rumi shook her head and opened her eyes once more, seeing the glow to her hands. The patterns along her skin were glowing a dark purple. Great. Y/N retracted her hand and got off the bed.
“I’ll get you some water.”
“Thank you,” Rumi thanked. Y/N headed out and Rumi took that chance to wrap her arms around Mira’s waist. She buried her face against her chest, crying softly against her.
“Was it that bad of a nightmare?”
“T-terrible.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to talk about it?”
“Not now. Later?” Rumi mumbled. Mira kissed the top of her head with a hum.
“Later,” Mira affirmed. Rumi heard shuffling from the bed, and she quickly wiped her tears away. “Hey, Zoey. How’re you feeling?”
“Tired,” Zoey grumbled.
“Understandable. You used a lot of mana,” Mira nodded. Zoey yawned and Rumi turned, seeing her rubbing at her eyes.
“How long was I asleep?”
“About 24 hours.”
“Oh…have you been sitting here the whole time?”
“We have. Y/N too. She stepped out to get me water,” Rumi answered. Speaking of. Y/N walked into the room and her eyes landed on Zoey.
“You’re up!” Y/N beamed. Wow. That was a blinding smile. Y/N went straight to the bed and pressed the back of her hand against Zoey’s forehead. “You don’t feel hot. So, no sickness from using too much mana.”
“You act like I would be dumb enough to get sick.”
“Not dumb. Selfless? Yes,” Y/N hummed.
“More like stubborn,” Mira grumbled. Rumi chuckled at the wide-eyed look Zoey gave her. “What? I’m not wrong.”
“You’re one to talk! You’re more stubborn than me!”
“Am not.”
“You kind of are, jagiya,”
Mira scowled and flicked Rumi in the head, making her yelp. “Hush, workaholic.”
“You and flicking,” Rumi grumbled. Y/N held out a water bottle to her and she gratefully took it. “Thanks.”
Y/N smiled before taking a seat on the floor by the bed. “What’s the plan for today?”
“Rest.”
“Studying.”
Rumi glanced back at Mira, seeing the scowl on her face. “We have to study.”
“WE need rest. We just had a fairly difficult fight.”
“We need to study. We have Finals coming up.”
“I for one can’t focus on studying,” Zoey mumbled. Y/N held up her hand.
“Agreed…movies?”
Zoey gasped and looked at them with excitement on her face. “Please?! Can we have a movie day?!”
Rumi sighed and leaned back against Mira. They really needed to study, but how could she say no to that face. “…fine. But you have to sit on that couch and do nothing but relax and refuel.”
“I can totally do that!” Zoey nodded.
“Whipped,” Mira softly snickered. Rumi elbowed her in the stomach, making her grunt. Y/N chuckled before standing.
“Let’s get you situated. Rumi and Mira can get snacks,” Y/N smiled. Zoey held up her arms to her, making her quirk an eyebrow. “Are your legs broken?”
“No. I’m just tired.”
“So, no movie?”
“Carry me?”
“…no.”
“Please?” Zoey pouted. Y/N groaned and reached down, easily picking up the maknae. Zoey giggled and wrapped her arms around her shoulder, making her huff.
“Don’t wiggle or I’m dropping you.”
“You wouldn’t!”
“Watch me,” Y/N grumbled. Rumi watched them go and Mira’s arms wrapped around her from behind. Her girlfriend rested her chin on her shoulder with a sigh.
“I hate that they are both adorable.”
“Me too…but it keeps things lively.”
“…you think they like each other?”
“Hard to say.”
“Do you think they like us?” Mira asked. Rumi turned to kiss Mira’s cheek.
“I think, we could ask them.”
“That’s a terrible idea.”
“So is staring at them like we are.”
“I-I am not staring!” Rumi protested. Mira tapped her cheek, right where one of her patterns were.
“Glowing,” Mira teased. Rumi groaned and dropped her head. She was already regretting not wearing her ring.
Point of View Change, Y/N
Y/N tiredly ran her fingers through her hair as she walked to the kitchen. It’d been a long night and even longer week. They’d been studying and training relentlessly. They had to figure out the extent of Rumi’s powers, and they wouldn’t let the woman do it alone. It was clear that she was stronger and faster. Teleportation was a thing too. They had to test how far she could go, but they had to be careful doing so. Teleporting left Rumi exhausted. It was a useless skill if they used it incorrectly. Mira had to testify against Chi, which took up much of her time. They told her they’d go with her, but she’d refused. She wanted to do it on her own and that left them to themselves.
Y/N opened the cupboard and pulled out four ramyeons before setting them on the counter. She started the kettle, then moved to the fridge to grab fruit. She couldn’t cook like Mira, so they had to survive on ramyeon. The woman would be ticked when she woke up, but at least they wouldn’t starve. Once the kettle clicked, Y/N poured the hot water into the ramyeons.
“Hmm, I smell food,” Rumi hummed. Y/N smiled and glanced over her shoulder, seeing the older woman sleepily entering the kitchen. Her purple hair was down for a change, and her patters were a soothing, translucent color. “Ramyeon?”
“Yup.”
“For breakfast?”
“I mean, I can get you cereal if you want,” Y/N countered. Rumi shook her head and grabbed chopsticks, placing them on the lids to keep them closed.
“Ramyeon for breakfast sounds amazing,” Rumi smiled. Y/N quickly cut the fruit, and Rumi started to help her. She stood close to her, shoulders brushing against each other as she did.
“Is Mira going to court again?”
“Yeah. She said it will hopefully be the last time.”
“…is she winning the case?”
“…I don’t know,” Rumi truthfully answered. Mira hadn’t said much when she returned. Each trip ended with her either collapsing on the couch or with her going to their gym. She was on edge. “She was tossing and turning a lot last night.”
Y/N hummed and continued to cut the fruit. Mira hadn’t had a chance to relax. She couldn’t. Not with Chi still free. Y/N tightened her grip on the knife. It was her fault that they were in this mess. Maybe she should’ve just stayed away longer. Chi might’ve left them alone if she hadn’t been there. Rumi gently placed her hand on her own, making her flinch.
“You’re thinking too hard,” Rumi murmured. Y/N glanced at the woman, seeing the concern on her face. The pinch between her eyebrows. “What’s going on in your head?”
“Maybe I’m thinking about how pretty you look with those patterns?” Y/N deflected. Rumi blushed and her patterns pulsed pink.
“I-you—” Rumi stammered. Y/N chuckled and patted her cheek.
“Don’t break yourself,” Y/N teased. Rumi sputtered and swatted her hand away.
“Then don’t just say things like that!”
“Say things like what?” Zoey asked. They turned, seeing the maknae tiredly walking towards them. Her hair was haphazard, sticking up in multiple directions. “Is that food?”
“Morning, Zoey,” Rumi smiled. Huh. That was one dopey smile. The fondness there shocked her. Did Rumi feel something for Zoey? “Did you sleep well?”
“Slept okay…Mira wouldn’t let me get up and I really had to pee,” Zoey answered. Y/N raised an eyebrow at Rumi, making her blush again.
“Ah, well I’ll go get her up. Why don’t you two go ahead and start eating?” Rumi quickly spoke. She hurried to their rooms and Y/N motioned to the ramyeons.
“Take those to the table?”
“Sure!” Zoey chimed. She dutifully grabbed two ramyeons, taking them to the table before grabbing the rest. Y/N finished the fruit and joined the woman. “How was your sleep?”
“Alright. It’s starting to get hot at night.”
Zoey groaned. “Tell me about it! I already run hot and adding Mira and Rumi, plus the blankets is awful! I should have them invest in a cooling blanket or something.”
“You sleep with them?” Y/N cautiously asked. Zoey blushed and picked up a ramyeon, taking off the cover to eat.
“I’ve been having a hard time sleeping, so they invited me to join them whenever I can’t.”
“When did that start?”
“When you were in the hospital,” Zoey softly answered. Ah. Makes sense. Y/N opened her own ramyeon and blew on it before taking a bite. The warmth of the noodles gave her a nice feeling in her chest. It warmed her up from the inside. Y/N glanced up at the younger woman and her eyes quickly darted away.
“What?”
“N-nothing,” Zoey stammered, stuffing her face with food. She grimaced at the heat but kept eating.
“You’re going to hurt yourself,” Y/N sighed. She went back to eating and felt Zoey’s eyes on her again. When she looked up, Zoey quickly looked away again. This happened a few more times before Y/N huffed at the woman. “Zoey.”
“What?”
“You’re staring.”
“I’m not.”
“Just tell me why you keep staring at me,” Y/N ordered. Zoey kept her gaze averted and Y/N shook her head. She stood from the table and headed back to the kitchen. She grabbed a few glasses, along with the orange juice container. When she turned, she saw Zoey staring at her…specifically at her leg. Y/N frowned and adjusted her posture.
“Um…do you need me to heal anything?”
“No.”
“Why don’t you sit? I’ll get whatever else you need.”
“I appreciate it, but I’m already up. I’ll get it.”
“But—”
“Zoey, I’m not broken,” Y/N snapped. Zoey flinched and Y/N held her gaze. She didn’t like getting snappy at her, but things were getting annoying. They were all treating her like she was fragile. All three of them. Even when they were training, they were holding back.
“I didn’t say you were broken,” Zoey mumbled. Y/N placed the glasses on the table with a huff.
“You didn’t have to. The way you look at me is enough.”
“I’m just—”
“I don’t need your pity, Zoey. Not yours, not Rumi’s, or Mira’s. This is why I didn’t tell you about my leg. I didn’t want this,” Y/N gestured between them. She saw the way Zoey shrunk and the way she bit her lip. Damn it. Y/N poured the juice before walking away. Rumi and Mira were walking towards them; twin frowns directed at her. She didn’t stop. She merely continued to her room. She needed to move.
Y/N felt the strain in her arms as she slammed her fists into the punching bag. She’d changed and gone straight to their gym. That had been an hour ago. She’d spent that first hour running at the fastest speed she could go, only stopping when her legs gave out under her. Now, she was taking out her frustration on the punching bag. Her hands were screaming at her to stop. Screaming at her to take a moment and properly bandage them. She didn’t want to. The pain was what she was striving for. Her next hit broke skin and she hissed, pulling her hand back to shake it out. There was a blood stain on the bag and her vision tunneled. She hit it again, seeing Hawke and her old team. She hit it again, seeing Mira get struck down by that humanoid dragon. She hit it again, seeing Rumi’s soft smile and Zoey’s bright one. They were always so kind to her and she was just…her. She snarled and her hands turned into claws. They tore into the bag, ripping it to pieces and sending sand spilling across the floor. Anger flared in her chest and she shook her head, heading for a second bag.
“You’re going to run yourself dry,” Mira spoke. Y/N ignored her and dismissed her claws to start punching at the bag again. She heard the woman approach, but she continued to hit the bag. Mira easily caught her wrist, and she glared at the woman. “Don’t give me that look. You need to stop.”
Y/N tried to pull her wrist free, but the woman merely tightened her grip. “Let go.”
“No. Doing this isn’t going to change what you said to Zoey. It’s not going to make that go away.”
“Good to know. Now, let go.”
Mira held her gaze and she was certain she’d let go…what she wasn’t expecting was for her to drop kick her. She gasped as she was sent staggering back and she barely got her arms up to block Mira’s next hit. The woman was always the strongest one of the four of them. All strength, but precise. Her hits were always carefully aimed. Carefully controlled. Her hands moved in a flurry of movements, making Y/N curse. She was too tired for this. Mira swiped her legs out from under her, and she hit the ground with a grunt. Before she could get up, Mira was on her. Her arm wrapped around neck while her legs pinned her arms to her side. “Tap out.”
Y/N growled and tried to wiggle free. She didn’t want to tap out. Mira tightened her grip and she glowered at her. She didn’t want to yield, but she also didn’t want to fight Mira. Not really. She tapped Mira’s arm, making her release her. She sat up, rubbing her hand along her neck with a grimace. “Are you done beating me up?”
“Are you done being an ass?”
Y/N glared at her and crossed her arms. “I won’t try anything if that’s what you mean.”
Mira sighed and sat up. “I guess we’ll start there…why’d you say what you did to Zoey?”
“I said what I said because I’m tired of her looking at me like I’m broken.”
“That’s not how she’s looking at you.”
“It is,” Y/N snapped. She lifted her gaze, glaring at Mira as she did. “It’s how all of you are looking at me. I’m not broken.”
“No…but you are hurting,” Mira pointed out. She leaned back on one of her hands before bringing up a knee to rest her other arm on. “There’s a difference between hurting and being broken. I’ve seen broken. That’s not what you are.”
“Sounds like the same thing to me,” Y/N grumbled. Mira’s eyes softened and she shook her head.
“They aren’t the same thing…but I can see why you think that. I used to think the same thing,” Mira spoke. Y/N frowned at the woman. What? “My family…wasn’t the best. My mother acted like I never existed and my father made me wish I didn’t exist. You’ve met my brother. He wasn’t any better. Living under that roof felt like Hell. I never knew what I was waking up to. I never knew what my father would put me through or how my brother would hurt me. My mother didn’t even take care of me when they did end up hurting me. She always said I deserved it. A problem child that was getting too wild, especially when my powers started to manifest. I started fighting back. I got into fights with everyone. I couldn’t make friends and I thought it was because I was broken.”
Y/N saw the way her eyes darkened. Saw the pain that flashed in her gaze.
“I thought I would be alone forever…then, I met Rumi. I snapped at her, but the pain in my ass didn’t take no for an answer. She just kept pushing and pushing until I finally punched her.”
“…seriously?”
“Yup. Punched her right in the gut. She keeled right over.”
“Then what?”
“Then, she punched me back. We got into a fist fight that ended with us bleeding and bruised.”
“And that helped how?”
“In a strange way, it calmed me. I lost that fight, but Rumi still helped me up. She still tended to my wounds before her own. She didn’t let me pull away. She stayed,” Mira answered. Y/N saw the smile that came to Mira’s face. The fondness and love. “She showed me that I wasn’t broken like I thought. She showed me that I was just hurting from a pain that needed mending. I learned to love her before I loved myself, but she made sure to teach me that I wasn’t a problem child. That I deserved to be cared for and loved.”
Y/N looked down at her hands. Deserved to be loved. Mira did deserve to be loved. She was kind. Gentle in a way that only they got to see. She radiated this aura that threatened anyone who tried to hurt them, but she treated them with a gentleness that made her stomach flutter. “I’m glad Rumi showed you how to love yourself.”
“It took time, but she didn’t give up on me,” Mira hummed. She gently placed her hand on her own, squeezing it. “For the record, I won’t give up on you either. I don’t think you’re broken. I think the world has done nothing but show you hate and I think you deserve people who care for you. You deserve people who show you how to love yourself.”
Y/N stared down at their hands, feeling a tightness in her chest. She couldn’t tell if she wanted to cry or pass out. This was too much. “…you like Zoey…don’t you?”
Mira’s hand tensed and she looked up, seeing the shocked look on her face.
“You and Rumi like Zoey.”
“…we do,” Mira slowly answered. Y/N smiled and nodded. How could they not like her? She was the embodiment of sunshine. A light in the dark. She was kind to everyone, and her bubbliness was almost infectious. She was too good for this world.
“I think you and Rumi should talk to her. I think she likes you two as well,” Y/N spoke. She pulled her hand free from Mira before standing. They’d be good together. Rumi and Mira could give Zoey the love she deserved. “Ask her out and go on a date.”
“Y/N,” Mira softly spoke. Y/N glanced down at her, seeing the confusion in her eyes. The sight made her quickly look away.
“I can find you a place to take her. I think I know the perfect place for a first date,” Y/N spoke. She headed for the door, ignoring Mira calling out to her. She couldn’t keep looking at her. She’d cave if she did. She’d spout what she was actually feeling if she kept looking at her. Y/N quickly headed to her room and closed her door, leaning against it to slide to the floor. She’d really just done that. She’d told Mira to ask Zoey out. She tangled her fingers in her hair with a heavy sigh. Her chances now were non-existent…but she’d give up everything just to make sure they were happy. Y/N went to her desk and picked up her phone, searching for the place she knew Zoey would like. The aquarium. She always raved about how she wanted to visit it. Y/N purchased three tickets, then sent them to the group message.
Sunshine: ??? R we going to the aquarium?!
Tiger: In the middle of the day?
CinnamonRoll: There’s only 3 tickets
Y/N: I have things to do but I saw the special exhibit and thought u 3 should go
Sunshine: But it won’t be as fun if we aren’t all there
Y/N rolled her eyes and quickly typed back: Just bring me back a souvenir
Tiger: Go with us next time?
Next time. Would there be a next time? Well, likely, but Y/N shouldn’t be involved with that. She couldn’t be. A separate message dinged from Mira and Y/N opened it.
CinnamonRoll: U can come u know
Y/N: I know. U 3 have fun. Tell me about it when u get back?
CinnamonRoll: Alright
CinnamonRoll: We’re talking when I get back
Y/N left Mira on read and placed her phone down. She wasn’t entirely lying. She did have things to do. Things that would be easier without the women interrupting her. Her hands throbbed and she glanced down at her split knuckles. Right. She needed to tend to those. First fix up her hands, then she’d get to work.
Point of View Change, Mira
Mira couldn’t help but smile at the way Zoey was vibrating next to her. They were sitting in the back of the car, waiting to arrive at the aquarium. Rumi was sitting on her other side, and she was also smiling at Zoey. The maknae was just way too excited between them. “I’m guessing you’re excited to go?”
“I am so excited! I have my ocean notebook ready to go! I’ve got facts about turtles, sharks, seals, and reef fish!”
“How about lionfish? I like those,” Rumi asked. Zoey nodded and opened her notebook, rifling through it before pointing excitedly.
“Here! They can live up to fifteen years and even live down to depths of a thousand feet! They are really versatile!”
“Huh, that’s cool,” Rumi smiled, looking at the notebook. Mira glanced at it too and she was amazed by the detail in the drawing.
“You’re an amazing artist, Zo,” Mira complimented. Zoey blushed and Mira pointed at one of the colorful tabs. “Is that one for sharks?”
“Y-yup!”
“Got any facts about tiger sharks?” Mira asked. Zoey nodded and turned the pages to the one she was looking for. Mira leaned in close and she could smell Zoey’s apple scented shampoo.
“T-tiger sharks can turn their stomachs inside out to regurgitate things they can’t digest.”
“Sick,” Mira grinned. Tiger sharks were aggressive, but there was something mesmerizing about how they moved in the water. She glanced at Zoey, seeing the deep blush on her face. The way she was practically holding her breath. Mira hummed and leaned close to her ear. “Breathe, Zo. You’re going to make yourself sick.”
“Yeah, don’t stop breathing. It’s important to not stop breathing,” Rumi teased. Zoey straightened with a squeak.
“I-I’m breathing!”
Mira shared a shit-eating grin with Rumi before leaning back. This was going to turn into an amusing trip.
At the aquarium, Mira and Rumi had to move quickly to keep up with Zoey. She was even more energetic the moment they stepped inside. She went to every exhibit with an interesting fact. Mira was impressed by how much information Zoey had. She was a literal walking textbook. Zoey kept taking pictures of them as they went, making sure to make them pose like tourists. It was demeaning, but also fun. At one point, Rumi got startled by a pufferfish, which had made Mira cackle and Zoey snort from laughing so hard. Her patterns had pulsed an amusing pink with her face an even deeper shade of red. She was so damn cute. They made their way through the aquarium, stopping at the gift shop before leaving. They all bought something for one another and then something for Y/N. It was amusing that they all picked something out for the woman.
After the aquarium, Mira had their driver take them to get dinner. It was strip of food stands along a pond. It was a nice place to eat and relax. Zoey chose a burger, Rumi chose kimbap, and Mira chose spicy ramyeon. They’d likely go back for seconds, but this was enough for now. They sat on the park bench to eat and relax.
“That was a lot of fun!” Zoey exclaimed, taking a bite of her burger. Rumi nodded and bit into her roll of kimbap.
“We should go again.”
“I for one wouldn’t mind going to a museum so I don’t smell like fish all day.”
Rumi leaned close and gave her a small sniff. “You do smell like fish.”
Mira scoffed and pushed her face away. “Okay, weirdo. Go back to gnawing on your kimbap.”
“Wherever we go, we should bring Y/N. She really missed out,” Zoey spoke. Mira nodded and took a bite of her own food. It had been her idea in the first place. She should’ve been there with them. Mira glanced at Zoey, seeing the bit of ketchup on the corner of her mouth. She reached over, using her thumb to wipe it away. Zoey’s face turned almost as red as the sauce and Mira hummed, putting her thumb in her mouth.
“You had a little something on your face,” Mira hummed. Zoey sputtered and Mira smirked, focusing back on her own food. “We should take food back for Y/N.”
“What should we get her?”
“Hmm, something light. Maybe a ramen?”
“How about that pho stand?”
“Are we just ignoring the fact that Mira just wiped ketchup off my face then ate it?” Zoey questioned. Mira turned, smirking at her.
“I did what? I don’t remember doing that.”
“You literally just did it!” Zoey exclaimed. Mira shrugged and Zoey scowled at her. “You are ridiculous.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Mira countered. Rumi stuffed the rest of her kimbap in her mouth before standing. “Where you going?”
“I’m getting dessert.”
“Bring me back something?” Mira asked. Rumi smiled and leaned down, giving her a chaste kiss.
“Will do,” Rumi murmured before glancing at Zoey. “Do you want something?”
“Yeah! That’d be great!” Zoey beamed. Rumi kissed her forehead, making the woman’s blush return.
“I’ll be back,” Rumi hummed. She turned and headed for the food stalls. Zoey groaned and slid down in her seat.
“You two are going to kill me,” Zoey grumbled. Mira handed Zoey a napkin before finishing her ramyeon.
“This has been a fun day,” Mira pointed out. Zoey nodded and quickly finished her burger.
“It was fun. Thank you, for indulging me with my random facts.”
“They were interesting, that’s for sure. I didn’t know half of those facts.”
“Well, that’s what I’m here for! Interesting facts and all,” Zoey awkwardly chuckled. Mira turned and cupped her face, making her meet her gaze.
“I for one like you for more than just your interesting facts.”
“Y-yeah?”
“Yeah. You’re kind, smart, talented, and an amazing mage. You fill the room with your presence and make everything so much brighter," Mira complimented. Zoey blushed and lowered her gaze.
"I-I'm not too much?" Zoey softly stammered. Mira felt a spike of anger in her chest. Whoever told Zoey she was too much was going to find the sharp end of her gok-do.
“You’re never too much, Zo,” Mira argued. Zoey lifted her gaze, just slightly to look at her from below her lashes.
“Really?”
“Really,” Mira smiled. Zoey smiled softly at her and Mira could hear Y/N’s voice in her head. She could do this. God, why was this making her nervous?!
“Um…M-Mira?”
“Yes?”
“C-can I…” Zoey trailed off, eyes darting around her face.
“Can you?”
Zoey took a deep breath before speaking. “CanIkissyou?!”
Mira’s smile broadened and she leaned forward in response. Zoey met her halfway and their lips met softly. Her kiss was hesitant at first, but she quickly deepened it. Mira let her dictate the intensity of the kiss and she felt Zoey’s fingers tangle in her hair. She pulled back and saw the way Zoey’s eyes sparkled with mirth. “What?”
“You taste like spicy ramyeon,” Zoey giggled. Mira chuckled and kissed her nose, making her giggles intensify.
“It’s like I ate ramyeon or something.”
“Hey! Not fair!” Rumi exclaimed. Zoey shot back, eyes going wide in shock.
“Rumi! I just, um, we were just—”
“Kissing my girlfriend. Not like I can complain. She is hot.”
“Guilty,” Mira chuckled. Rumi cleared the distance between them, stuffing the desserts into Mira’s face as she did. “Hey!”
Rumi grabbed Zoey’s face to make her meet her gaze. “Can I kiss you too, Zoey?”
Zoey nodded and Rumi pulled her into a kiss. Mira saw the way Zoey’s shoulders relaxed and how Rumi smiled into the kiss. Mira sighed and took a bite of the pastry that had been shoved into her face. It was almost as sweet as the kiss happening in front of her. Zoey pulled back and glanced between them. “Does this mean you both like me?”
“I mean, I wouldn’t just kiss you for nothing.”
“Totally not. I just kissed you for shits and giggles,” Mira deadpanned. Rumi kicked her shin, making her yelp. “Ow! I was joking!”
“Be nice!” Rumi chastised. Mira rubbed at her shin and glared at her girlfriend. She’d make her pay for that later. Rumi’s phone rang and she frowned, taking it out to look at it. She excused herself before stepping away to answer.
“So, does this make us girlfriends?”
“If that’s what you want.”
“And if I tell you that I like Y/N too?” Zoey softly asked. Mira tilted her head with a smile.
“I’d say, I wouldn’t be upset by that.”
“Do you like her too?”
“I think I do,” Mira nodded. She wasn’t as sure as she was about her feelings for Zoey, but she couldn’t deny the pull she felt towards Y/N. The need to protect her and love her. It was more than just a friendship. Mira knew she wanted more. Rumi walked back to them and Mira straightened at the panicked look on her face. “Ru? What’s the matter?”
“I-Eomeoni called,” Rumi stammered. Mira stood and took her hands, bringing them to her lips to press a soft kiss to them. It helped ground Rumi enough to continue. “Eomma is hurt. She’s at the hospital.”
“What do you need?”
“I-I need to get to the hospital. Eomeoni said she’d tell me more when I got there.”
“Okay…Zoey?”
“I got us a car.”
Mira nodded and followed Zoey, keeping Rumi steady as she did. They’d help Rumi however they needed.
At the hospital, Zoey immediately asked the ER nurses for Mi-Yeong while Mira texted Y/N. She’d let her know that they were heading to the hospital and had promised to message her once they arrived. She’d responded with a thumbs up and a promise to be there soon.
“Aein?”
Rumi jumped and pushed away from Mira, running to Celine. “Eomeoni! Eomma, is she—is she okay?”
“Breathe, Aein,” Celine instructed, pulling her into her arms. Rumi relaxed against her and Mira awkwardly shifted from one foot to the other. Zoey came back to her, taking her hand.
“They said we’d have to talk to Celine,” Zoey whispered. Mira nodded and kept her gaze on Rumi. Celine pulled away enough to address them.
“Come. We have a private area to speak,” Celine spoke. They fell into step behind the older woman, heading deeper into the hospital. The farther they went, the more uneasy Mira felt. There was security everywhere. Celine pulled them to a stop outside a large window, gazing into it with a sigh. “There was an attack on her facility. She tried to fight but sustained severe injuries.”
Rumi’s breath hitched as she looked through the window. “Eomma.”
“The doctors have stabilized her. Their magic is healing her from the inside, out. Their main focus is the internal bleeding, then the broken bones,” Celine explained. Mira joined Rumi, looking through the window. Mi-Yeong was hooked up to monitors and I.V.s. There were bandages across her body while several mages focused on healing her. “They will likely put her into a medically induced coma until her injuries have stabilized.”
“H-how long?”
“As long as she needs.”
Rumi whimpered and her patterns turned a dark purple. Mira quickly pulled her into a tight embrace, running soothing hands along her back. The woman pressed her face against her neck and she felt her shaking.
“Do we know who did this?” Zoey asked, stepping closer to place her hand against the small of Rumi’s back.
“We have leads. The council will be looking into it. Soo-Ah is personally leading the investigation. We know this, it was a coordinated attack. Only Mi-Yeong’s division was targeted. No other part of the facility was touched.”
“Any casualties?”
“Five. Their next of kin are being notified,” Celine answered. Mira silently cursed and tightened her grip on Rumi. A coordinated attack. Who would attack a facility that focused on prosthetics? A facility that was aimed at helping those in need. Mi-Yeong’s facility was right beside one of the police branches. That would’ve been a better target. “Where is Y/N?”
“She’s on her way. She was at the penthouse,” Mira answered. Celine twirled to face her, eyes betraying the normal neutrality that she held.
“Tell her to stay at the penthouse.”
“I do—”
“Guys!” Y/N interrupted. Mira turned, seeing the woman running towards them. She only made it about halfway to them before she gasped, tumbling to the ground hard.
“Y/N!” Zoey exclaimed, going to run to her. There were blurs of movement and Zoey yelped as she was slammed against the nearest wall. Mira snarled and went to help her, only to be shoved to the ground and pinned. She squirmed under the solid hand against her head.
“Keep moving and I’ll have to break something,” the man above her threatened.
“Mira! Zoey! Eomeoni, let go!” Rumi shouted.
“You are taking this too far, Edward,” Celine growled. A man who Mira assumed was Edward came into her line of sight, looking down at Y/N’s writhing body in disgust.
“Orders from higher up. She is to be apprehended for the attack on Ryu Prosthetics,” Edward scowled. Upon closer inspection, Mira recognized him. He was the same man who’d intercepted them when they first reunited with Y/N. He turned the face of his watch and Y/N’s body jolted, then seized.
“Stop it!”
“I’ll rip your fucking hand off! Let her go!”
“Do that and you’ll be apprehended next,” Edward seethed. He turned and his eyes landed on Rumi. “You were supposed to be watching her.”
“I-I have been.”
“Then how was she allowed to run loose and attack Dr. Ryu?”
“I-we went out. She said she was staying at the penthouse.”
“Edward, check your tracker. You’ll know if Y/N left or not,” Celine calmly spoke.
“That tracker is invalid. We don’t know the full extent of a shadow dragon’s powers. She could easily have tricked us.”
“You know that is highly unli—”
“It doesn’t matter what you have to say, Celine. President Soo-Ah has already signed the order. Y/L/N Y/N is to be taken into custody.”
“Over my dead body!” Mira snarled, gathering her fire. She wouldn’t let them take her. There was no way Y/N had done anything wrong. She wouldn’t have attacked Rumi’s mother. The woman they knew would never attack someone who didn’t deserve it. She hissed in pain when the pressure against her head increased.
“Stop squirming,” the voice above her growled. There was a thud and Mira strained to see where the noise had come from. Zoey. Her body was bound in a glowing, yellow rope.
“I suggest you don’t try anything, Ms. Choi. You might be a strong mage, but even you can’t break through those restraints,” Edward sighed. Magic binding rope. These guys weren’t playing around.
“S-stop,” Y/N stammered. Mira looked back at Y/N, seeing how she was looking up at Edward. Seeing how her body convulsed. “D-don’t hurt them.”
“You are in no position to make demands.”
“I-I’ll go with you. No fighting, n-no funny business. I’ll cooperate. I’ll do whatever you ask.”
Edward glared down at her. “You’d have to do that either way…but fine. Come freely and I’ll let this little…dispute go.”
“Y-you have my word,” Y/N grunted. Edward turned his watch face and Y/N’s body went slack.
“Get up and walk,” Edward ordered. Y/N shakily pushed herself to her hands and knees, body barely holding herself up. “Hurry up.”
Y/N wobbled to her feet and several men were immediately upon her. They shackled her hands and forcibly grabbed her by her arms.
“No!”
“Let her go!”
“This isn’t right! You can’t take her!” Zoey yelled.
“It’s okay,” Y/N sighed. She gave them a reassuring smile, but Mira could see the fear in her eyes. The terror. “Don’t fight them. It’s going to be okay.”
“You may release them once we are gone,” Edward ordered. The remaining men nodded and Mira watched in dismay as Y/N was dragged away from them. Watched in dismay as the woman didn’t even try to fight back. She just willingly let them take her. Mira wanted to scream.
Point of View Change, Zoey
Zoey hugged her knees to her chest as they sat in silence. She sat there, blankly watching Mira pace. They’d taken Y/N. They’d taken her and she hadn’t even fought back. She’d just let them take her. All to protect them. Zoey pressed her forehead to her knees and trembled. They hadn’t been able to help her in return.
“Y/S/N will be here shortly,” Celine spoke. Rumi took a seat beside her and Zoey felt her pull her into an awkward embrace.
“T-they took her,” Zoey murmured.
“…I know,” Rumi sadly sighed. She gently massaged the back of her neck, trying to soothe her. Mira kept pacing, cursing as she did. “Mira.”
“This is bullshit! They can’t just take her! She didn’t do anything wrong!”
“We don’t know that.”
“Oh, fuck you, Celine! You know she didn’t do anything wrong! She wouldn’t attack Mi-Yeong-nim!”
“I know that…but the council won’t just take my word for it. Not when something this extreme has happened.”
“What will they do to her?” Zoey asked, lifting her head. She met Celine’s gaze and the older woman’s shoulders sagged. “What will they do?”
Celine sighed and ran her fingers through her hair. “If Soo-Ah signed the papers, then she’ll likely go to the highest extreme. They’ll interrogate Y/N. Use any means necessary to get her to talk…they’ll likely call-in elves.”
“Elves?” Rumi gaped. Celine nodded and glanced back at Mi-Yeong’s room.
“The council has connections with the elf enclave. They have a mutual understanding. If and when the council calls upon them, they will come. Vica versa.”
“What will the elves do to her?”
“They’ll tear her apart,” Rook spoke. Zoey turned, seeing Rook and Y/S/N jogging to them. Y/S/N went straight for Celine and shoved her.
“What the hell, Celine! You promised me you’d protect her if I let you handle things!”
“I will do what I can to prove her innocence.”
“That’s not enough! You should’ve stopped them from taking her! They’ll kill her! You know that!” Y/S/N screamed. Zoey tensed and her mind started to spiral. They’d kill her. The council would kill her. They didn’t care if she was innocent. All they saw was a shadow dragon. All they saw was a danger that needed to be put down. Rumi got into her line of sight, but Zoey couldn’t hear what she said. Her mouth was moving, but she didn’t know what she was saying. Her eyes were wide in a panic and she turned to Mira, who quickly knelt in front of her. The pink haired woman took her hand, pressing it against her chest. She took a deep breath and Zoey copied her. She repeated the process until she could hear the arguing from the other side of the room. She repeated the process until she could clearly hear Mira and Rumi.
“Zoey? Zoey, can you tell me something you can feel?”
“Y-your heart.”
“Good, aegiya. Good,” Mira nodded. Rumi cupped her face and Zoey leaned into the touch.
“What else can you feel?” Rumi asked.
“Your hand…it’s dry.”
Rumi chuckled and ran her thumb along her cheek. “I’ll put lotion on later.”
The arguing continued and Zoey found her eyes moving to them. Y/S/N was still shouting at Celine while the woman tried to calm her. Rook was standing nearby, but she wasn’t interfering.
“Rook?” Zoey spoke. Rook turned and her face softened.
“Hey, kid. You okay?”
“What’s really going to happen to Y/N?” Zoey asked. Rook’s face fell and she ran her hand down her face. She shook her head and crossed her arms.
“If they call in the elves, they’ll do whatever it takes to make her talk. They’re known for their…extreme measures. Both physical and mental. They’ll put her through hell.”
“She didn’t do anything wrong.”
“I know kid, but they won’t stop until that is proven…”
“Or until she dies,” Mira finished. Rook nodded and Zoey’s breath hitched. Rumi’s hand moved to her chest, pressing firmly against her.
“Zo, keep breathing into my hand. Okay? Keep breathing for me,” Rumi coaxed. Zoey did her best to follow her instructions, but it didn’t stop her mind from wandering to Y/N. To her soft smile when she thought no one was looking. To the way she always put herself between them and danger.
“I-I don’t want to lose her,” Zoey stammered. Rumi and Mira hugged her, holding her tightly between them.
“We’ll figure it out, Zo.”
“We will. We’ll figure it out.”
Zoey didn’t know if she trusted that. She was scared. Terrified that they’d lose Y/N. That things would go terribly wrong. She had to make herself believe Rumi and Mira. She had to. If she didn’t, she’d go crazy.
The first day was a blur. Nothing made sense as they studied for their final exams. They couldn’t get an extension, and Zoey couldn’t help but wonder if Y/N would be allowed to take her finals later.
The second day was similar to the first, but they ended up training for the second half of the day. Mira had gone stir crazy while Zoey needed to do something with her hands. It was good to train as Rumi needed to practice using her powers to her full extent.
The third and fourth day were awful. Without Y/N, Zoey found herself being bullied again. Without her, Seok and his team weren’t as scared to mess with her. She found herself shoved inside a locker, which is something that hadn’t happened since elementary school. Rumi had luckily found her about an hour into her being locked up, but that was enough for Zoey to avoid going to class. She refused to go, which would hurt her grades. When Rumi told Mira, the taller woman had seethed, heading straight to Soo-Ah’s office. She’d come back with a thorough reprimanding for barging in, but Soo-Ah had promised that if Seok or his team touched Zoey again, they would be severely punished.
When Rook heard about this, she made it her job to escort Zoey to and from class. The older woman didn’t leave her side when she was out of the penthouse. Actually, Y/S/N and Rook both stayed with them. They refused to leave them alone. They were in this together and Zoey was grateful for their presence. Rook was their protector outside of the penthouse while Y/S/N was their caretaker inside the penthouse. She cooked for them. Cleaned for them. She was trying to care for them, and Zoey knew it was for their benefit and her own. Taking care of them took her mind off Y/N. Not completely, but just a bit.
By the end of the first week, Zoey thought she’d go insane. Their exams were in a few days and she didn’t feel ready. She felt anything but ready. She couldn’t do this. She wouldn’t pass her exams.
“Hey, Zee, you good?” Jinu asked. Zoey groaned and dropped her head on the table in front of her. They had agreed to meet at the library to study together, and she was regretting that decision.
“None of this makes sense! I’m going to fail these exams and get kicked out of school! I don’t know what I’m doing!”
“Hey, hey. Take a breath before you pass out,” Jinu instructed. Zoey did just that, but she kept her head pressed against the table. “You aren’t going to fail your exams.”
“You don’t know that!”
“I do. I’m your older brother. I know these things.”
“Jinu, you aren’t helping!”
“Okay, okay, sshh!” Jinu hushed, patting her head. “You’re going to get us kicked out.”
“I’m sorry,” Zoey apologized. She just felt bad about these exams. She felt bad about everything. Mira and Rumi were trying to keep it together for her, but she could tell that they were suffering just as much as her. They all missed Y/N. They were all worried about her.
“You don’t have to apologize. You’re having a hard time right now…have you heard anything about Y/N?”
Zoey shook her head. “No. We haven’t heard a thing. Not even Celine has heard anything.”
“It’s been what, a week?”
“Yeah.”
“I want to be positive for you and say she’s fine, but I don’t want to lie to you,” Jinu spoke. Zoey felt tears prick at the corners of her eyes. “You can’t change anything that’s happening. You can’t fix it, because it’s out of your control. The only thing you can do right now is focus on your exams. Focus on yourself.”
“I can’t do that.”
“What would Y/N tell you?” Jinu asked. Zoey lifted her head, looking at her brother. His head was tilted at her and there was a resigned look on his face. “What would she tell you?”
Zoey imagined what Y/N would say. She imagined how the woman would react to her at this moment. She was always selfless. She always put others before herself. “I think she’d tell me to focus on my exams.”
“Then do what she’d tell you. I think that’s the only thing you can do right now,” Jinu nodded. Zoey hated that he was right. She had to focus on her exams. She picked up her pencil and started working again.
It was at the end of the second week that they found themselves eating at a local Korean BBQ place. It had been Rumi’s idea for them to celebrate finishing their exams and the start of their summer. They would have a break from school, but they’d still go on missions. Training wouldn’t stop either. But they had this night to themselves. They toasted and Mira fell into cooking mode. She grilled for them while Rumi tried to engage Zoey in small talk. It was sweet of her, but Zoey felt wrong sitting here celebrating. They were missing a piece. Rumi’s phone dinged and she glanced down at it, eyes widening as she did.
“Ru?” Mira asked. Rumi picked up her phone and responded to the text.
“Eomma woke for a few minutes earlier today. She’s stable enough that I can visit,” Rumi awed. She lifted her head with a shaky smile. “She’s okay.”
“That’s great, Ru. Do you want to go after we eat?”
“I think visiting hours are done for the day. Can we go first thing in the morning?”
Mira nodded and kissed her cheek. “Alright.”
Zoey took Rumi’s hand, squeezing it tightly. “Whatever you need, I’m here for you too.”
Rumi smiled at her and brought her hand to her lips, pressing a soft kiss to her knuckles. “Thank you.”
Zoey blushed and the breaking news alert on the t.v. caught her attention. She gasped and pointed at the small box across the room. “Look!”
The three of them looked at the t.v. and saw Soo-Ah speaking with the press. The woman looked regal in a way that reminded her of Celine. The steeliness in her eyes however was a stark difference. Yes, Celine was stoic, but she wasn’t steely in her demeanor.
“A few weeks ago, there was an attack on Ryu Prosthetics. The head doctor, Doctor Ryu Mi-Yeong was severely injured. Today, we have confirmed the culprit of said attack,” Soo-Ah spoke. A picture was revealed on the screen beside her. Zoey’s breath caught in her throat, and she felt her stomach twist. “Chen Seok was seen entering the building and it was later confirmed that he was the one who attacked Dr. Ryu and her team. A hefty award will be given to whomever brings in Seok. Dead or alive, this man must be brought to the police. Any previous suspects are hereby pardoned. That is all.”
“Seok,” Zoey gaped. The man who constantly bullied her at school. The man whose actions seemed to intensify now that he knew Y/N was gone. He’d only know that if he had something to do with it. Everyone else would’ve been too scared to act, but he hadn’t been. “Seok did this.”
“Soo-Ah pardoned anyone they thought were suspects. Does that mean they released Y/N?” Rumi questioned. Mira took out her phone and dialed a number before bringing it to her ear.
“Bobby? Did you see the news?” Mira asked. She listened to Bobby answer and her eyes widened. “What? When?”
Zoey and Rumi shared an uncertain look. What was Bobby saying to Mira? Mira cursed and grabbed her wallet, placing money on the table.
“We’ll be there in ten,” Mira affirmed. She hung up the phone and stood. “We need to go.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Bobby said that they were bringing Y/N back to the penthouse.”
“Right now?!” Zoey exclaimed. Mira nodded and they all scrambled to their feet. It was a ten-minute walk back to the penthouse. They’d make it in five if they ran.
They did run the entire way to the penthouse, only stopping when the elevator took forever. Mira already had her keys out by the time they got to the door. It slid into place and they scrambled inside. Mira bristled at the sight before her.
“Who the hell are you?!” Mira questioned. Zoey stepped around Mira, seeing who she was yelling at. An elf. The elf was petite, with black hair in a ponytail and face tattoos. She squeaked in alarm and Rook was between them before Mira could do anything drastic.
“Hold on, she’s not a threat,” Rook spoke. Rumi growled too and Zoey felt her magic at her fingertips. “She’s not a threat!”
“I-I’m really not!” the elf stammered. Rumi and Mira were ready to pounce, and Zoey was ready to help them.
“Enough!” Y/S/N shouted. They continued to square off, and the mage growled in irritation. “I don’t have time for this. Rook! Sit, down.”
“But—”
“Now!”
Rook pulled the elf with her and the two of them took a seat on the couch. Y/S/N twirled, leveling them with a fierce glare.
“You three, sit and if you argue with me, I swear I will hit you with a stun spell!”
Zoey could tell that the woman wasn’t joking. She grabbed Mira and Rumi, pulling on their hands. “Let’s just see what she has to say.”
“If I don’t like it, I’m setting her on fire.”
“I’ll help,” Rumi grunted. The three of them moved to the kitchen, sitting at the barstools. They stared at the elf as Y/S/N tiredly leaned against the wall by their rooms. “Talk.”
“Bellara is a friend of mine. When I confirmed they were calling in the elves, I gave her a call,” Rook explained. Bellara nodded and she twiddled her thumbs nervously. “I knew that they’d send the strongest of their mages since it’s a shadow dragon they’d be allowed to see. I wanted to make sure we had someone on the inside that could help.”
“Did you help her?” Mira asked.
“As much as I could. Our mages have a…unique way of interrogating. I’m sure Rook explained some of it to you already.”
“She did.”
“Well, the part that makes things tricky is when we use our magic to pick apart their brain. Their memories and what makes them, well, them. We use those memories and pick them apart. Show them their worst fears to get them to talk,” Bellara explained. Zoey cringed at that. They’d use her memories to hurt her. They’d make her see everything she feared.
“How exactly did you help then? Did you just make things less nightmarish for her? Make her see a spider instead of a drake? Or maybe a puppy instead of a wolf?” Mira seethed. Rook shook her head and Bellara frowned.
“No. I helped her when the others left. Whenever they left, I ensured that her wounds were tended to. I ensured that she wouldn’t die from the wounds inflicted upon her. When they pushed too hard, I convinced them to back off,” Bellara explained. She looked at her hands and Zoey could see them shake. “Before they started prying into her head, I told her to think of a safe place. A place that they couldn’t touch. I promised her I’d keep that place just that. A place that the other elves couldn’t see. People they couldn’t touch.”
Bellara lifted her gaze and Zoey saw the remorse in her eyes. “She showed me this penthouse. The three of you. I promised her I wouldn’t let the others use you against her.”
“You kept her sane,” Rumi stated.
“As much as I could. They still hurt her. They still broke her down. First physically, then mentally,” Bellara nodded. She bowed her head to them and her lower lip shook. “I’m sorry. I did all that I could to help her.”
Rook patted her back and looked at Y/S/N. “We had her brought here, because when we tried to bring her to our place; she freaked. She fought us and we had to sedate her.”
Zoey looked to Y/S/N, seeing the fading scratch marks on her face. “Is she in her room?”
“She is. She won’t come out. She won’t even look at us. Look at me,” Y/S/N sadly answered. She kept her eyes on the ground as she touched the marks on her face. “I don’t want to leave her here, but they used us against her. She won’t trust us.”
“We’re hoping she’ll trust you three,” Rook added. Zoey stood from the barstool and walked to the couch. Rook straightened while Bellara cowered.
“You promise you did what you could to help her?” Zoey asked. Bellara lifted her gaze and she saw the sincerity there.
“I swear to you, I did what I could,” Bellara swore. Zoey nodded and held out her hand. Bellara stared at it for a moment before gently taking it. She shook her hand and inclined her head.
“Thank you,” Zoey murmured. Bellara shakily sighed and lowered her gaze again.
“We’ll stay nearby, but it might be better for us to leave. If we’re here, she might not ever trust again,” Rook spoke, standing from the couch. She went to Y/S/N, resting her forehead against her own. “She doesn’t need us. She needs the three of you.”
“We’ll help her.”
“We’ll do whatever it takes.”
Rook nodded and she gently led Y/S/N to the door. Bellara stood and glanced towards their rooms.
“They had her locked in a pitch-black room when we weren’t interrogating her. They deprived her of her senses to make her more pliant to our magic.”
Zoey nodded and the three women left, leaving them alone. The penthouse felt stuffy. Wrong. Zoey looked to their rooms and clenched her hands. They had to figure this out. They had to. “I think we should take her the gifts we got her.”
“I think she’d like that,” Mira nodded. She took their hands and led them to their rooms. Zoey’s was the first room, which made it easy for them to grab the gifts they’d gotten for Y/N. At the end of the hall, was Y/N’s open door. It was bright inside the room and they cautiously approached. The mattress was overturned, lying against the wall. Y/N was pressed up against it in the corner of the room, her things blocking the path to her. The bed frame, the dresser. Anything that she could move was between them. She looked so small in the corner.
“Y/N?” Zoey softly spoke. Y/N flinched and her arms tightened around her knees. She was curling in on herself more. “It’s just us. We brought you some gifts from the aquarium.”
“Zoey got you a big plushy; Mira got you a punny sweatshirt. I got you a snow globe,” Rumi added. Zoey nodded and gently placed the turtle plushy on the floor, with the sweatshirt and snow globe resting on top. She made sure it was close to the barricade, but not too close to make Y/N nervous. “Do you need anything?”
Y/N didn’t respond. She merely stayed silent as her body continued to shake. They exchanged a worried look before looking back at her.
“If you need anything, we’re right outside. We won’t bother you. We’ll close the doo—”
“No!” Y/N exclaimed, head shooting up to look at them. Her Y/E/C eyes were wide with panic. Her face, sunken from lack of sleep and nutrition. God, what had they done to her?
“Bellara said that they locked her in a room. Kept the lights off and took away her senses,” Zoey softly explained. Mira silently went to the door and Y/N tracked her movements. Zoey and Rumi did as well. Mira grabbed the door handle, then tore it from the door. Zoey gaped at the now broken door while Rumi flinched.
“No one is locking you in here. Not now, not ever. If you want privacy, then you can close the door, but YOU have the power to do so. No one else. No one will lock you up. Not again,” Mira firmly spoke. She turned and her eyes softened when she looked at Y/N. “No one will lock you up. I promise.”
Y/N choked on her tears and lowered her head to her knees. They listened to her cry but didn’t approach her. They couldn’t. They couldn’t scare her more than she was already.
“We’ll be right outside. If you need anything, just text us,” Rumi spoke. She looked around and found Y/N’s phone. She placed it beside their gifts before standing. “I hope you know we’ll keep you safe.”
Zoey kept her eyes on Y/N as she stood. She kept her eyes on the woman as she felt her heart shatter. She was in so much pain and there wasn’t anything they could do. “We’re here for you, Y/N. I promise.”
Zoey let Mira lead her outside and the three of them made their way to the living room. They collapsed on the couch, and Zoey let her tears fall. Mira and Rumi hugged her, holding her tightly between them. “S-she’s so scared!”
“We’ll help her.”
“We’ll make sure she knows she’s safe. We’ll help her.”
“I-I hope that’s enough,” Zoey stammered. She wasn’t sure how they were going to help Y/N. The woman in that room wasn’t the Y/N they knew. That woman was a shell of the woman they’d gotten to know. The things that had been done to her had broken her and that fearful look in her eyes had proved that. Y/N wasn’t the same and they were going to have to do everything in their power to help her.
Heya! Here's the next part of my Polytrix x Reader work.
Rumi, Mira, and Zoey learn more about Y/N's past. An unwelcome guest makes an appearance and secrets are revealed.
Warnings: Violence, language, maybe ooc, slowburn
Next thing I am working on is my A/B/O request that I got.
Mira knew something was wrong, even if she couldn’t see it. Y/N was back, but she was hiding something. Rumi was too. Y/N was a lot better at it, but Rumi sucked. Mira could tell that she was lying and wanted to wring her neck, but that wouldn’t help them. Zoey was at least happy that they were all back together. They had more meals together, more movie nights, and more cuddle parties (Zoey’s words, not hers). They even spent time studying in the library together, helping Y/N catch up on the things she’d missed at school.
Their break was in the next few days which would give them more time together and after an awkward conversation between them, Mira devised a plan. Zoey wasn’t going home for break and neither was she. Because of that, Y/N and Rumi had opted to stay behind with them. Since they were all going to spend the break together, Mira thought this would be the perfect time to do something fun with the group. A way for them to bond.
Mira yanked the drapes open, making Rumi groan. “Get up, jagiya.”
“Whyyy?” Rumi groaned. Mira went to the bed and leaned down, kissing her temple.
“Get up. We’ve got a lot to do.”
“It’s…six am! Why are we up this early on our break?!”
“I’m surprised you’re complaining. You normally are the first one awake.”
“We were up late last night and it’s our first day of break. I’m tired,” Rumi complained. Mira hummed and gently kissed Rumi. Her girlfriend melted into the pillows more and her fingers tangled in her hair. Mira smirked and pulled back, making her whine. “Miiraa.”
“Come on. I’ve got things planned…starting with getting us all up and out the door by seven.”
“Bossy.”
“You like it when I’m bossy,” Mira smirked, smacking her butt. Rumi squeaked and Mira chuckled. “Get ready. You can wear something comfy. I’m going to get the gremlin up.”
Rumi flipped her off and Mira headed for Zoey’s room. She knocked and the door immediately opened. Zoey stood there with disheveled hair and wide, tired eyes.
“…hi?”
“Hi…did you pull an all nighter?”
“…no?”
Mira sighed and patted her head. “I’ll get you coffee and an energy bar.”
Zoey beamed and leapt at her, hugging her tightly. “You’re the best! Wait, are we going somewhere?! Is that why you’re getting me up early?!”
“It’s a surprise. Get ready and you’ll see. You’ve got…forty-five minutes.”
“Okay!” Zoey exclaimed. She ran back into her room and Y/N’s bedroom door opened. The woman was towel drying her hair, freshly showered and dressed.
“Why is she shouting?” Y/N asked. Mira tracked the droplet of water that slid down her neck, below her shirt. She mentally cursed herself and met Y/N’s gaze. There was a glint of playfulness there that Mira tried to ignore.
“I have plans for us. Get dressed and we’re leaving at seven,” Mira answered. Y/N saluted her and headed back into her room. Mira cleared her throat and quickly headed to the kitchen. Time to get the plan rolling.
The first part of the plan was simple. Breakfast at Rumi’s favorite breakfast place. They ate their fill, laughing at Zoey’s antics as she argued with Y/N about getting the rest of her hashbrowns. They ended up ordering another plate of hashbrowns to get Zoey to calm down a bit.
The second part was taking them to the mall. Specifically, the mall that Zoey had been adamant about visiting for months. There were all kinds of specials going on and it was crowded. It was fun up until they lost Zoey. The woman had wandered off, leading them on a wild goose chase. Mira had stayed calm, Rumi had panicked, and Y/N chose to head to one of the side shops. They were ready to call security when Y/N messaged the group chat. She had attached a picture of a turtle plushie…holding it above the fountain.
Y/N:…if you aren’t here in the next five seconds, I’m dropping the turtle
TurtleLover: U WOULDN’T
Y/N: Try me
Mira and Rumi made it to the fountain right as their youngest member tackled Y/N, nearly knocking them into the water. It wasn’t surprising that Y/N got Zoey a turtle plushie. What was surprising was that she’d gotten Mira and Rumi something as well. A cat keychain for Rumi and a frowning bear keychain for Mira. She’d cherish it forever.
The third stop was still inside the mall. It was a pottery place that let them paint whatever they wanted. They all agreed to painting mugs. Zoey’s was cartoonish with turtles and other marine life. Mira’s was an abstract like with a sunset theme around the mug. Y/N had painted a fantasy scene, complete with a castle and four tiny dragons flying in the background. Rumi’s was…a disaster. Evidentially, she couldn’t paint to save her life. She’d been embarrassed at the end of their painting and Mira was sure she was going to throw it, until Y/N said that she liked it. The woman said how it had a lot of character to it and it had made Rumi smile. They finished their mugs and Mira checked the time. Perfect. They were right on time for their reservations.
Their last stop for the day was dinner. It was Y/N’s favorite place. The place that Mira had asked Y/S/N for. She’d been hesitant in answering but with enough pleading (which Mira would deny happened), Y/S/N had eventually caved. The minute the car parked in front of it, Y/N tensed.
“What’re we doing here?” Y/N asked. Mira undid her seatbelt and glanced back at Y/N in the rearview mirror. She looked…troubled.
“I made reservations for us for dinner. I’ve heard good things about it,” Mira answered. Zoey met her gaze through the mirror; worried frown plastered on her face. “We don’t have to eat here if you don’t want. I can cancel.”
Y/N shook her head and opened the car door. “That’s fine. We can eat here. You went through the trouble of making a reservation. Might as well eat.”
They exchanged a worried look before following their teammate out of the car. Zoey leaned up on her tippytoes to whisper in her ear.
“She doesn’t want to be here,” Zoey whispered.
“I know. Shit, Y/S/N said this was her favorite.”
“Maybe she just doesn’t feel like it today?” Rumi suggested. Mira felt a tightness in her chest. Why was this making her nervous? It’s not like this was a big deal or anything. If Y/N wasn’t feeling it then that’s okay. She was allowed to not want it. Y/N held the door open for them and an older Korean woman greeted them.
“Hello! How many?”
“Hi. I’ve got a reservation for four people. For Mira.”
“Ah, yes, yes. I’ve got your table rea…Y/N?” the woman gaped, looking around Mira. Mira glanced behind her, seeing a sheepish looking Y/N. She was scratching the back of her head while she stared at the floor.
“Um…hi Hae-nim,” Y/N greeted. Hae scrunched her nose and walked around Mira, straight to the sheepish woman.
“I know you are not calling me, Hae-nim. What have I told you?”
“T-to call you halmeoni (grandma),” Y/N stammered. Hae grinned and took Y/N’s face between her hands, pulling her down. She turned her head left and right, then up.
“You are too skinny! What have you been eating?!”
“I’ve been eating three meals a day, halmeoni,” Y/N chuckled. Hae stopped moving her head, instead, running her thumbs across her cheeks.
“You look tired, Ippeuni (pretty one),” Hae observed. Y/N gave her a small smile and Hae patted her cheeks. “Come, come! I will take you to your usual table!”
She ushered them to follow, and Mira quirked an eyebrow at Y/N. “I’ll explain when we sit.”
They followed Hae to the back of the restaurant, sitting down at the round table there. Mira pulled out the seat for Rumi while Y/N did the same for Zoey. She then pulled out the seat for Mira, and she patted her hand in thanks.
“Who are you friends, Ippeuni?”
“This is Rumi, Mira, and Zoey. Guys, this is Hae-nim.”
“It’s nice meeting you.”
“Thank you for having us, Hae-nim.”
“Your restaurant is beautiful,” Zoey smiled. Hae returned her smile and inclined her head.
“Now, now. No -nim nonsense. Any friend of Y/N’s can call me halmeoni,” Hae instructed. She handed them menus, giving Y/N a look as she did. “Do you want your usual?”
“Yeah, I’ve been dying for your Kimchi-jjigae (kimchi stew),” Y/N smiled. Hae pinched her cheek and turned, heading for what Mira assumed was the kitchen. The moment she was gone, they looked to Y/N.
“So…you know the owner here?” Rumi questioned. Y/N nodded. “How?”
“…I used to come here once a week.”
“Why’d you stop?” Zoey asked. Y/N sighed, leaning back in her chair. The look that crossed her face made Zoey deflate. “Oh…”
Mira felt bad for bringing them here. “I’m sorry. I should’ve asked you before I booked the reservation.”
“It’s fine. I don’t think I would’ve told you no, even if you’d asked,” Y/N answered. A server came by with tea, placing the small cups in front of them. “I have been meaning to come back here.”
“You seem close to Hae-nim. Is that because you came so often?” Zoey asked. Y/N nodded and picked up her cup, staring into the tea. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”
Y/N took a deep drink of the tea, body relaxing slightly as she did. That had to be too warm, but she seemed to not care. “I first started coming here after I joined my old team. They wanted to celebrate so they brought me here. They didn’t really give me a choice in the matter. They practically dragged me the entire way.”
“Your team…what were they like?” Mira asked. Y/N sighed and looked to her right. Mira followed her line of sight, seeing the picture hanging behind her. There were seven people in the picture. A ginger with piercing blue eyes, a darker skinned woman with a blue bandanna on her head, a scruffy looking blonde man, a female elf who smiled awkwardly at the camera, a large man with kind brown eyes, a woman with equally kind eyes who had her arm around a younger Y/N’s shoulders. They looked happy in the picture.
“That’s Aveline, Isabella, Anders, Merrill, Cullen, and Hawke.”
“Merrill is the elf?” Rumi asked. Y/N nodded in answer. A person had to be extremely lucky to meet an elf. They tended to not leave their own homesteads, choosing to not mingle with people. Supposedly, they came from the gates to share their knowledge with the world. No one really knew for sure and no one ever asked. “They look nice.”
“They were. They taught me a lot while I was with them,” Y/N recounted. Mira looked back at Y/N, seeing the far off look in her eyes as she recounted her past. “They made sure I learned everything that I could from them.”
“What kinds of things did they teach you?” Zoey asked. Hae returned with a platter of appetizers, pacing them on the table. Kimbap, dumplings, jeon-chae (Korean pancake), and more tea for them.
“You know what you’d like to eat?” Hae gently asked. Mira glanced back at the menu, noting that it wasn’t that large of a menu. That made it an easy choice.
“Can we just get one of everything? It’s too hard to choose,” Mira asked. Hae laughed, eyes crinkling as she did.
“You’ve got another group of friends who’ll clean out my kitchen!”
“It’s not my fault that your food is so good,” Y/N smiled up at her. Hae patted her head and headed back to the kitchen. “You’re going to be in for a rude awakening when the food comes. There’ll be a lot.”
“I think we can manage,” Mira countered. She picked up a kimbap, plopping it into her mouth. Zoey did the same while Rumi glared at the cut rolls. “Rumi, don’t be a baby. Eat the kimbap.”
“…it’s cut,” Rumi mumbled. Y/N and Zoey gave Mira a confused look.
“She’s a weirdo who eats the kimbap not cut. Likes to stick the whole thing in her mouth,” Mira explained. Rumi glared at her, stuffing two kimbaps into her mouth.
“That is a bit…eccentric.”
“You can call her weird, Y/N.”
“Do you not have a gag reflex? I could see how that could be helpful,” Zoey pointed out. Rumi almost choked, Y/N gaped, and Mira felt her face warm. Zoey merely looked between them in confusion. “What?”
“I-you can’t just. Oh my god, Zoey,” Mira groaned. She ran her hand down her face and Y/N pushed water to Rumi. The gears turned in her head and then, Zoey’s face turned bright red.
“I-I meant with food! Like she can totally eat anything because there’s no gag reflex! Not like anything weird or um like any uh toys or anything,” Zoey quickly rambled. Y/N covered her mouth with her hand, stopping her rambling.
“Okay, no more. You’re digging yourself into a deeper hole,” Y/N spoke. Zoey snatched up dumplings and stuffed them in her mouth to occupy it. Mira patted Rumi’s back and hoped that she hadn’t choked. “To answer your question earlier, they taught me all the practical things I wouldn’t learn in school. They taught me how to hold a shield, how to use that with a sword. They taught me how to use two swords and two daggers. They taught me how to read the environment and the creatures in the gates. They showed me who was dangerous and who wasn’t. They made sure I knew when to stand my ground and when to run. They taught me more than school ever could.”
Hae returned with a cart full of food. “Here’s your food!”
She passed the food around, along with different side dishes, and bowls of rice. “If you need anything else, just let me know!”
They sat there and stared at the plethora of food. There was a lot of it. Zoey immediately went for what she wanted to try, and Y/N pulled the Kimchi-jjigae towards herself. Mira grabbed the bulgogi and Rumi grabbed the Galbi. The four of them let out a collective groan.
“Oh my god, I died and went to heaven.”
“The meat melted in my mouth.”
“It’s juicy.”
Y/N chuckled and took another bite of her food. “You won’t find a better place. Hae-nim makes everything from scratch. Her husband and her are amazing chefs.”
“What really happened in that gate?” Zoey asked. Y/N flinched and Zoey held up her hands. “I shouldn’t have asked that. I’m sorry. Your sister told us a bit of what happened but…you know. It’s not what you saw and experienced.”
They ate in silence and Mira could tell that Zoey felt bad for asking. Y/N was staring at her bowl of stew and Rumi was glancing between them. Eventually, the woman shook her head and scooped some of the stew into a small bowl.
“We were on a routine mission. Clear the monsters in the gate and return home. We’d done so many runs together at this point that we were confident. I guess, maybe we were too confident. We went in there and were caught off guard,” Y/N explained. She divvied out the food two more times before putting her spoon down. “Aveline and Cullen took point like they always did. Hawke and Isabella stayed in the middle with Merrill and Anders in the back. We had our plan. I stayed near Merrill and Anders to give them more protection while the others deal with the monsters. It should’ve been simple, but we were given wrong information. The gate wasn’t housing basilisks like we’d been told.”
“What was there?” Rumi asked. Y/N handed them each a bowl of soup.
“A dragon. Not just any dragon. A corrupted lightning dragon. It summoned its hatchlings who were equally corrupted and we were outnumbered,” Y/N answered. She returned her attention to her own bowl. “Its lightning was dark. Unnatural. Like something had tainted it. We didn’t stand a chance. Aveline and Cullen did what they could to keep the big dragon’s attention while we dealt with the hatchlings. Merrill and Anders were trying to create a spell to teleport us out of there, but their magic had attracted the big one’s attention. It shot one blast of lightning at them and instead of hitting them, it struck Isabella. She’d thrown herself between them. That one blast was enough to stop her heart instantly. With one of us down, the hatchlings started to gain the upper hand. One got Merrill and that was it. Hawke lost control when she saw her go down. She charged right in with Aveline and Cullen trying to stop her. I stayed with Anders to try and keep him safe, but I couldn’t fight an entire pack of hatchlings on my own.”
Y/N’s hand clenched and she glared at an unseen enemy. “I got taken down from behind. Things are kind of a blur from there. Anders did what he could to patch me up, but he was in a losing battle as well. We couldn’t fight without the rest of our team. Cullen got crushed beneath the dragon’s foot and Aveline was slashed in half. Even if we could get to them, the damage was too much. That’s when Hawke realized what kind of danger we were in. She came back to us. Yanked me to my feet and told Anders to get me out of there. I refused. I couldn’t leave them. I could never. While we argued, the dragon attacked. Hawke shoved me aside and I watched as the dragon’s jaws closed down on her. She stabbed it in the eyes and blinded it before it tossed her aside. Anders and I had to run, but I couldn’t. I told him we had to get them. That we couldn’t leave them behind. I think he knew he wouldn’t make it…so, he didn’t argue much. He used the last of his magic to give me power. I used my shadows to help us. I cut through the hatchlings like Isabella would. I threw a shield made of shadows like Cullen had taught me. Anders propelled me up and I steadied my sword like Aveline had shown me, aiming for the wounded eye that Hawke had left. Strike fast and true like Hawke had taught me. My sword went right through it and I killed it. I was ready to have Anders help me move everyone, but when I looked to him, he was sitting there with his head down. He’d used up all his magic and passed. I was left there.”
“You were alone,” Rumi gaped. Y/N nodded and Mira reached across the table, placing a steadying hand on her shaking one. She squeezed it and Y/N took a breath.
“I don’t know how long I sat there. I don’t know how long it took me to finally get up and gather everyone on that slab of wood. I used everything I had left in me to drag them to the gate. I wouldn’t leave them there,” Y/N continued. She leaned back in her chair and looked up at the ceiling. “When I came through that gate, everything changed. Everyone hated me. I hated me. I gave up. I ran when I was finally able to make it three steps without falling. I ran and for whatever reason, I came here. Maybe I hoped that if I ended it all, I’d at least have a good meal in my belly.”
Mira knew that feeling. The feeling of giving up. The feeling of running and wanting the pain to stop. She ran her thumb along Y/N’s knuckles, seeing how Zoey placed a steadying hand on the woman’s thigh. “What happened then?”
“Hae-nim. She sat me down and shooed everyone out. Closed the restaurant to give me some privacy. She sat next to me and just…let me feel. She didn’t say a word. All she did was keep bringing me food and listen to me talk. She was the only one besides my sister and her team to show me kindness after that day. I ate enough to be sick and cried myself to sleep in her arms. She called my sister and Dorian came to get me since he was the closest.”
“She saved you,” Zoey awed. Y/N nodded and turned to face the shorter woman. “I’m glad she saved you. If she hadn’t, then we wouldn’t have met you.”
Y/N gave her a soft smile and poked her forehead with her index finger. “I suppose that is a good thing. If she hadn’t saved me, I wouldn’t have had a gremlin annoying me and not taking no for an answer.”
“You like me annoying you.”
“Unfortunately, I do,” Y/N chuckled. She looked to Rumi. “I do like broody over there too.”
Rumi huffed and crossed her arms. “I. Do. Not. Brood!”
Mira smirked and Y/N looked at her next. Her Y/E/C eyes sparkled as she held her gaze. There was something else there too. Mira knew that look, but there was no way she was seeing it right.
“I also like cinnamon roll there.”
Mira sputtered and sat up straighter. “I am not a cinnamon roll.”
“Totally are,” Rumi snickered.
“How am I a cinnamon roll?!”
“You planned an entire day for us to hang out. There isn’t a mean bone in your body. Cinnamon. Roll,” Zoey giggled. Mira growled and stood from the table. “Awe, where are you going?”
“I’m going to the bathroom. Don’t eat my food,” Mira firmly spoke. She heard them laugh behind her and smiled to herself. They could call her a cinnamon roll if they wanted. She was soft, but only for them. It was strange that her softness had extended to Zoey and Y/N. She never thought it would. Mira went to the front of the restaurant where Hae was.
“Everything alright, yeobo (dear)?”
“It’s wonderful. I just needed to stretch for a second. Figured I’d pay real quick if that’s alright with you,” Mira answered, grabbing her wallet from her jacket pocket. Hae shook her head and pushed her hand away.
“Consider this a gift.”
“Ah, Hae-nim, we couldn’t possibly—”
“Nonsense! This meal is on me!” Hae countered. She glanced around before softening. “I am so happy that Y/N brought friends. The last time I saw her, she was in a bad place. The woman that came through that door was payment enough.”
“Are you sure? I can pay for some of the meal, Hae-nim.”
“Your money is no good here. At least not today. When you come back next week, I’ll let you pay. You can pay every other visit.”
“Hae-nim…” Mira sighed. Hae took her hands and squeezed them.
“It’s about time Y/N had people who looked at her the way you three do. I can tell that she means a lot to you and that you mean a lot to her.”
“How?”
“I’m a heonmi. It’s my job to know these things,” Hae smiled. She reached up and patted Mira’s cheek. Her hand was so warm against her skin. “You go and enjoy the rest of your meal. I’ll bring dessert for you in a bit.”
“Thank you, Hae-nim,” Mira thanked. Hae raised an eyebrow at her and she smiled. “Thank you, heonmi.”
Hae beamed up at her and shooed her away. She headed back to their table and paused as she took them in. Zoey was trying to feed Rumi a piece of kimbap, laughing as the woman kept pushing her hands away. Y/N was watching them with an amused smile on her face, body free of the tension that had been there earlier. They meant a lot to each other, huh? Maybe they did. Mira couldn’t deny that she’d be a lot less happy if Y/N wasn’t with them. It felt oddly complete with her there. Maybe Hae was onto something.
Point of View Change, Y/N
Y/N yawned as she exited her bedroom. It was almost eleven and she’d slept through two alarms. Zoey had left early this morning to meet up with Jinu while the rest of them relaxed.
“Morning, Y/N,” Rumi greeted. Y/N waved in greeting, heading for the kitchen. “There’s coffee in the pot or hot water if you want tea.”
“I also cut some fruit if you want that,” Mira added. Y/N nodded and grabbed some cut apples, along with a cup of coffee. She headed to the living room where Mira and Rumi were lounging. Mira was propped up against the armrest with Rumi against her chest. She was reading one of her books while Rumi scrolled through her phone.
“Are we training today?” Y/N asked, plopping down near their feet.
“We probably should. I need to study a bit and then we can,” Rumi answered. Mira bopped her on the top of the head with her book. “Hey!”
“No studying today. You told me you’d take three days off.”
“Today is day three!”
“So tomorrow you can start studying,” Mira countered. Y/N ate her apple slices as she sipped at her coffee. Studying was probably a good idea. She still had a lot to catch up on. The doorbell rang and Rumi groaned.
“Mira, get the door.”
“What? I’m on the bottom. You get the door.”
“Please?” Rumi pleaded. Mira grumbled and Y/N smiled as the woman relented. Cinnamon roll. She slid out from under Rumi, letting her drop to the couch with a squeak.
“That’s what you get!” Mira exclaimed, walking to the front door. Rumi rolled over and opened her mouth.
“What?” Y/N questioned.
“I want an apple,” Rumi answered. Y/N rolled her eyes and tossed the apple slice. It landed in Rumi’s mouth, and the woman threw her hands up in victory. God, she was so weird sometimes. She was just as goofy as Zoey, but a bit more reserved. It was quiet moments like this that brought out some of her silliness.
“Ah, hello ma’am! We weren’t expecting a visit from you today. Rumi is in the living room.”
“Good morning, Mira. I’m actually not here to see my daughter,” a voice answered. Rumi shot up and Y/N frowned.
“Shit…that’s my mom,” Rumi cursed. Rumi didn’t curse. That was the first time she’d heard her curse, and it was strange seeing her panic. Rumi straightened her pajamas with frantic hands before turning to face her. “Um, just uh…she’s really nice, I swear. She can just be a bit much sometimes.”
“Okay?” Y/N questioned. She looked to the door, seeing Celine entering with another woman behind her. She looked a lot like Rumi, just older and with black hair. It wasn’t like Y/N hadn’t met Ryu Mi-Yeong before, but Rumi didn’t know that. She stood from the couch as the adults entered.
“Hi, eomma,” Rumi greeted. Mi-Yeong smiled and hugged her daughter, kissing her cheek softly as she did.
“Hi, aein (sweetheart).”
“Is something wrong? You don’t usually come and visit,” Rumi asked. Mi-Yeong pulled away and smiled up at her.
“Nothing is wrong. I’m not actually here for you,” Mi-Yeong answered. She turned and Y/N bowed.
“Good morning, Doctor Ryu,” Y/N greeted. She could see Rumi shuffling nervously and Mira joined them along with Celine.
“Good morning. You missed your appointment yesterday.”
Shit. She’d hoped they’d ignore the fact that she hadn’t shown. “I um…I got busy.”
“Too busy for your appointment? You know as well as I that they will not take that as an answer,” Mi-Yeong countered. Y/N stood and Celine crossed her arms.
“Why did you actually miss?” Celine questioned.
“We had plans. I didn’t want to ruin them,” Y/N answered. Celine regarded her with an unimpressed look while Mi-Yeong merely smiled.
“Relax, Celine. We were kids once too.”
“She isn’t just a kid. They are watching her and if she messes up…”
“I know what’ll happen,” Y/N interrupted. She lowered her head and scratched at the back of her head. “I just…Mira planned a fun day, and I wanted to spend time with them. I didn’t go to my appointment because I wanted to be with them.”
Celine sighed. “I’ll call the board. Let them know that you were…preoccupied.”
“Eoneomi,” Rumi worriedly spoke.
“It’s alright. I’ll make sure she doesn’t get in trouble,” Celine assured. She stepped away and Mi-Yeong cleared her throat.
“Alright. I do need to check on things.”
“N-now?” Y/N stammered, lifting her head to glance at Mira. The woman was looking at her in confusion. Worry too. “C-can’t we do this somewhere else?”
“I know you don’t want them to know, but someone needs to. They need to know how to work with you in the rare case that something goes wrong. I can’t always be there to fix things.”
“…okay,” Y/N relented. She wasn’t wrong. If something went wrong, she’d need help fixing her prosthetic. She sat back down on the couch and reluctantly pulled down her pants, enough to get her left leg out. Mira’s sharp intake of breath made her stare at the ground. Mi-Yeong knelt in front of her and got to work checking on the mechanics.
“You’re her doctor?” Rumi questioned.
“I am.”
“Why?”
“Aein, I’m the best in the business when it comes to prosthetics. This one here is specially designed for heavy duty use. I was asked to work with Y/N by Y/S/N,” Mi-Yeong answered. Y/N risked a glance at Rumi. The look on her face was pained. Betrayed. She hadn’t told her because she didn’t want her to know that her mother was her doctor. It was embarrassing enough that she’d lost her leg. “Aein, come here for a moment. I need you to see the parts that are likely to break.”
Rumi nodded and knelt beside Mi-Yeong, listening carefully to her mother as she spoke. Y/N averted her gaze once more and wondered what Mira was thinking. Was she mad? She had to be. She’d lied to her. Kept this damn leg a secret.
“Ms. Ryu?”
“Hmm?”
“Is it okay if I learn too?” Mira asked. Mi-Yeong voiced her approval and Y/N felt even more guilty as Mira knelt with them. She was taking in every detail that Mi-Yeong pointed out. She was even writing things down on a notepad…wait, when had she grabbed that?
“I spoke with the board. You’re off the hook for now, but you can’t go missing another appointment,” Celine spoke.
“Thank you,” Y/N thanked. Mi-Yeong stood with a smile.
“You’re all good. Nothing was out of place which is wonderful. I will need you to come by in a few weeks to get it checked again.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Y/N nodded. She felt their eyes on her and refused to lift her gaze. She didn’t want to see their pity or disappointment. Rumi left to walk her mothers out, leaving her with Mira. The pink haired woman grabbed her pants. “I-I’ve got it.”
“I’m helping you,” Mira snapped. Y/N squeezed her eyes shut and allowed Mira to help her get her pants back on. This was demeaning. When her pants were back on, Mira spoke again. “You hid this from us.”
“I did.”
“Why?”
“I-I didn’t want you to feel bad. It’s not your fault that I lost my leg.”
“…hey, look at me,” Mira gently spoke. Y/N kept her eyes closed and heard Mira sigh. A gentle finger under her chin made her lift her head. “Please?”
Y/N took a shaky breath and opened her eyes, seeing not anger. Not disappointment. No. She saw pity and remorse. That was so much worse. “Mira…”
“You didn’t have to hide this. You should’ve said something to us. We could’ve been helping you from the very beginning.”
“I didn’t want you to look at me like that,” Y/N mumbled. Mira tilted her head at her and she averted her gaze.
“Like what?”
“Like you’re pitying me and feeling bad for me,” Y/N answered. Mira’s hand flinched away from her leg and Y/N didn’t need to look at her to know that what she said had stuck.
“I—”
“It’s fine. Just…don’t tell Zoey. I’ll tell her myself, but not yet. I need to think of the best way to tell her,” Y/N interrupted. Rumi returned to the living room, carrying a fresh cup of coffee. The older woman offered it to her, and she took it with a small incline of her head. “Thanks.”
“Rumi, I need to talk with you,” Mira spoke, standing from in front of her. Rumi patted her shoulder as she walked by and Y/N sighed, leaning back into the couch. Stupid. She shouldn’t have missed her appointment. They’d told her if she did, Mi-Yeong would do a home visit. It was inevitable. She could hear the muffled arguing from Rumi’s room. The way their voices were rising as they argued. “I can’t shake the feeling that you’re hiding something else from me!”
“I’m not hiding anything from you!” Rumi exclaimed. Liar. She was hiding something from Mira and from Zoey. Not like Y/N could blame her. She just wanted a normal life. That’s all Rumi wanted. Y/N grabbed her phone and dialed the number she wanted.
“Hey kid. What’s up?”
“Hi. Can you pick me up?”
“Of course. I’ll be there in five.”
“Thanks,” Y/N thanked, hanging up. She headed for the door and grabbed her shoes before heading downstairs. She didn’t want to be in the penthouse while they were arguing. That was the last place she wanted to be.
When Y/N woke later, she was lying on the floor, blanket draped over her. She tiredly rubbed at her eyes, and she shimmied closer to the fireplace she’d fallen asleep in front of.
“Hey, you’re awake. I was wondering when you would wake up,” the voice spoke. Y/N looked up, seeing Rook. Her long brown hair was in a bun, and she was dressed in sweats and a sweatshirt. Her green eyes regarded her carefully. “How’re you feeling?”
“Sore.”
“That’s what happens when you sleep on the floor,” Rook smirked. She held out a water bottle to her, and she took it with a huff. “So, you want to tell me why you called me to pick you up?”
“Not really.”
“Too bad. Talk.”
Y/N grumbled and glared at her. “You’re annoying.”
“That’s my job as your sister-in-law. So, talk. Unless you want me to call Y/S/N?” Rook threatened. Y/N cringed and Rook raised an eyebrow at her.
“I think I made Rumi and Mira fight,” Y/N sighed, flopping back down on the ground. She stared at the ceiling while Rook hummed.
“The purple haired one and the pink haired one?”
“Mhmm.”
“Why do you think you made them fight?”
“I didn’t tell them about my leg.”
“Why not?”
“I was…embarrassed, I guess? A little bit self-conscious too.”
“And?”
“And I was scared. I didn’t want them to think it was their fault, because it wasn’t. I wasn’t strong enough to fight that thing. It was my mistake charging in headfirst,” Y/N admitted. She glanced at Rook, seeing that she was watching her carefully. “They were fighting because I told Rumi, but not Mira. I didn’t mean to even tell Rumi. She just…wouldn’t leave me alone and I caved. She kept my secret from her girlfriend.”
“May I speak freely?”
“You always do.”
“I get why you were scared to tell them, but that was selfish of you to hide it from them,” Rook bluntly spoke. Y/N cringed and turned her head away, staring into the fire. “You keep telling us that you trust them. Telling them that you trust them. But then you go and keep something big like this from them? That’s not trusting them.”
“…I told them about Hawke and the others too.”
“…Y/N,” Rook sadly sighed. Y/N clenched her hands as she continued to stare into the fire.
“I just…it felt right telling them. I wanted to tell them.”
“You told them that, but not about your leg? You told them about Hawke and the others when you’ve never spoken a word about them to anyone besides your sister and our team?”
“When you say it like that, I sound pathetic.”
“I wouldn’t say pathetic. Ridiculous? Yes. Hurt? Very much so,” Rook clarified. Y/N rolled her head to the side, looking at Rook. The look in her eyes made her chest tighten. There was that look. The pitying one. The one that people gave her when they realized how broken she really was. “I know what you’re thinking. I’m not pitying you.”
“That look says otherwise.”
“I’m not pitying you. I do feel bad for you, but it’s not pity. It’s compassion.”
“That’s the same thing,” Y/N huffed. Rook sighed and stood from the couch, taking a seat beside her. She poked her in the forehead, making her scrunch her nose at her.
“Pity is caring for someone and thinking less of them. Compassion is caring for someone who deserves it,” Rook explained. She gave her a soft smile and retracted her hand. “I care for you. Your sister and this team cares for you. Whether you like it or not, we’re your family.”
“We’re a weird family,” Y/N scoffed, averting her gaze.
“Yes, but our family cares for one another. We don’t pity one another. We care for each other and love one another…just like your team does,” Rook continued. Y/N snapped her head around, staring at Rook in shock. “Don’t look at me like that. Even a fool can see how much they like you.”
“I-you’re wrong.”
“Am I? Rumi has been keeping secrets for you. Mira planned an entire date day. Then there’s Zoey…” Rook spoke. There was a knock at the front door and she smirked. “…who is attached at the hip to you.”
Did they actually like her? Sure, they were friendly with one another. Sure, they were spending more time with each other. But, there was no way they liked her. Not like that. Rook stood and went to the door, opening it wide as she did.
“H-hello! Um, I-I’m Choi Zoey!” Zoey squeaked. Y/N cursed and quickly adjusted her sock to make sure it covered her prosthetic. What was she doing here?!
“Ah! Ms. Choi! We were just talking about you!” Rook exclaimed. Y/N groaned and pulled the blanket over her head. Just kill her now. She heard the door close, then the soft pitter patter of footsteps. There was a lull in silence before something solid plopped onto her stomach. She grunted and reared up with a gasp.
“Hey!” Y/N gasped, sitting up to get tackled. Zoey hugged her tightly and she glanced down at the maknae. “Zoey?”
“You ran off.”
“I’m sorry. I needed some time to gather my thoughts.”
Zoey sat up and lightly smacked her hand against her chest, making her grunt. “You worried us half to death! I came home to Rumi and Mira panicking because they couldn’t figure out where you’d gone!”
“They were panicking?”
“Yes! You can’t just…run off like that! Not without telling us where you went,” Zoey shouted. She was glaring at her, and Y/N scratched the back of her head. Shoot. She hadn’t meant to upset her. “You could’ve at least told us where you were going.”
“Next time I decide to have a crash out, I’ll tell you where I’m going,” Y/N assured. Zoey puffed her cheeks out at her and Y/N pinched her cheeks. “Don’t give me that look. I promise, I’ll tell you where I’m going.”
“You better, or you owe me all the shrimp chips I can carry.”
“I’d buy you those even without a deal being made,” Y/N smiled. Zoey returned her smile and Y/N glanced over her shoulder. Rook was giving her a shit eating grin. She discretely flipped her off, making her snicker. “Hold on, how did you even figure out I was here?”
Zoey blushed and averted her gaze.
“Zoey.”
“I plead the fifth.”
“That doesn’t work here.”
“I’m still pleading the fifth!” Zoey argued. Y/N tickled her side, making her squeal. “Hey!”
“Did you track me?!”
“No!” Zoey laughed. She swatted her hands away, grinning as she did. “I may or may not have gotten your sister’s number.”
“…I’m going to take your phone and delete that.”
“Hah! Jokes on you, I memorized it!”
Y/N groaned and fell backwards, covering her face. “I dislike your brain for memorizing random things.”
“You love me and you know it!” Zoey giggled, plopping down onto her chest. She smiled and patted her head. Yeah, she did love her. That wasn’t something she’d say to her face, but she did feel that.
Point of View Change, Rumi
Rumi worriedly paced as they waited for the other team to arrive. Somehow, they’d been approved to go on another mission. Bobby had tried to get them out of it, but the council hadn’t seen a problem with it so long as they were supervised. They were going in with another team to infiltrate this gate. If they were going in with another team, then this gate wasn’t going to be easy.
“I don’t like this,” Zoey murmured. Rumi stopped her pacing, glancing at the makane. She was fiddling with her rings while she stared at her hands. Mira tightened her shoelaces and then her ponytail.
“I don’t either, but we’ll be fine. We just need to stay together,” Mira assured. She glanced at Y/N and Rumi followed her gaze. The woman was anxiously rubbing at her wrist as she also paced. They were all anxious.
“Well, well. You’re a sight for sore eyes,” a voice drawled. Mira tensed, growling as she did.
“What the fuck are you doing here?”
“What? I can’t check in on my favorite little sister?”
Kang Chi. The eldest of the Hwan family. Him and Mira weren’t close. Not by a long shot. She never had anything positive to say about him. He was almost as bad as their father. Chi crossed his arms with a smirk. “How have you been, little sister?”
“Better until you showed up,” Mira hissed. Rumi took a step closer to her girlfriend, blocking her from doing something stupid. They couldn’t get into a fight out here.
“You wound me! And here I was, looking forward to working with you.”
“Bobby! There’s no way in hell I’m working with him!” Mira exclaimed, looking at Bobby.
“You don’t have to. We can tell them no,” Bobby spoke.
“Scared you won’t be able to keep up?” Chi taunted. Mira flinched and Chi’s team snickered behind him. “Hear that, boys? My little sister is scared!”
“I’ll show you scared, asshole,” Mira growled. Rumi turned, pressing her hand against Mira’s chest to stop her from taking a step forward.
“Jagiya, take a breath,” Rumi whispered. Mira glanced at her, eyes burning with anger. “We don’t want to get involved with him. He’s bad news.”
“Letting your little girlfriend talk for you? Figures,” Chi scoffed. Rumi twirled to tell him to back off, but Zoey stepped between them, hands glowing as she did.
“I don’t know who you are, but you need to back off!” Zoey snapped. Chi raised an eyebrow at her, amusement evident on his face.
“And what will you do about it, Miguk (American)?”
Rumi and Mira moved to intervene but were stopped by Y/N’s low growl. “Back. Off.”
Chi turned his attention to Y/N, smirking as he did. “Yeah, I am definitely not taking orders from you, bulhaeng (bad luck).”
“Don’t you talk to either of them!” Mira snarled, pushing past Rumi. She got in her brother’s face and Rumi shook her head. This wasn’t supposed to happen. “We’ll show you! What’s this mission you’re wanting to go on?”
“Simple pest control. There’s a group of goblins in there. Should be easy enough.”
“We’ll exterminate them before your team can.”
“I doubt that,” Chi further taunted. He shoved past her and headed to the gate with his team. Rumi grabbed Mira’s wrist, making her meet her gaze.
“Hey! What the heck, Mira?! We can’t go into that gate!”
“We’ll be fine,” Mira countered. She brushed by her and Rumi felt irritation boil in her chest. Dang her and her stubbornness! Zoey took her hand, squeezing it as she did.
“Rumi?” Zoey hesitantly spoke. Rumi squeezed her hand in return before pulling her into a hug. The woman melted into her touch.
“Sorry. I know you hate it when we argue. Do you have enough supplies for us to go in?”
“I-yes. Yes, I do,” Zoey nodded. Rumi nodded and looked to Y/N, seeing the uncertainty on her face.
“We’re going in. You can stay out here with Bob—”
“The fuck if I’m doing that,” Y/N scoffed. She adjusted her arm bracers and butted her shoulder against her own. “We’re a team. We do this together…even when Mira is being a jerk about it. Who even is that?”
“Kang Chi. That’s her older brother and they really don’t like each other,” Rumi sighed.
“Then we should defeat more goblins than him and piss him off,” Y/N spoke. Zoey nodded and flexed her muscles.
“Let’s show him what we’ve got!”
“You two are ridiculous,” Rumi chuckled.
Inside the gate
“These aren’t goblins!” Zoey exclaimed, rushing behind Rumi to dodge a wolf. Rumi slashed through said wolf, huffing as she did. These definitely weren’t goblins. It was a pack of wolves that had ambushed them the moment they passed through the gate. Chi and his team had gone left while they had gone right. Y/N and Mira were farther from them, slicing through the wolves before they could reach them. “Watch it!”
Zoey created a shield around her, making the wolf that had leapt at her bounce off it. Rumi stabbed it through the heart with a grimace.
“Thanks, Zo!”
“You’re welcome!”
Y/N and Mira cut down the last of the wolves around them, panting as they did. Y/N surveyed around them while Mira trotted over to them.
“Hey, you two good?” Mira asked. Zoey nodded and pushed her hair from her face.
“Peachy! The snow made it hard though,” Zoey answered. Rumi couldn’t agree more. They were surrounded by snow. Enough snow that it came up to their shins. It made it difficult to fight the wolves without struggling a bit. “Where’d the others go?”
“I don’t know. I’m not sitting around here to find out. We can go deeper into the woods for a bit and see if we find anymore wolves. If we don’t then we return to the gate,” Mira answered. Rumi sheathed her weapon with a sigh. Going deeper into the woods didn’t sound like a good idea. They should just stay here. Y/N pointed her weapon to the east.
“Hey, there are tracks leading that way,” Y/N pointed out. Mira nodded and Rumi gave her a look.
“You’re serious about this.”
“I am. We just peek. That’s it.”
“This doesn’t feel right, Mira,” Rumi argued. Mira scoffed and dismissed her woldo.
“You’re just being a worry wart. We’ll be fine. We have Y/N and we have Zoey. We’ll be fine with them,” Mira assured. Rumi hated how reckless she was being right now. All because Chi was here. Mira headed in the direction Y/N had pointed out and Rumi followed with Zoey close behind. The younger woman patted Y/N’s cheek as they passed, hurrying to catch up with the taller woman.
“You think we’re walking into a trap?” Y/N questioned. Rumi sighed and motioned for her to follow.
“I don’t know. I hope not,” Rumi answered. Y/N fell into step beside her and she glanced at her, seeing how she limped slightly. “You good?”
“Yeah…snow is making it hard to move.”
“The cold?”
“Probably,” Y/N shrugged. That wouldn’t do. Rumi made a mental note to talk to her mother about that. Y/N’s prosthetic needed to endure all types of weather and terrain. “Don’t worry too much. You’ll get wrinkles with those frowns.”
Rumi blushed and shoved her shoulder. “S-shut up!”
“Just saying,” Y/N snickered. Rumi couldn’t believe her sometimes. “Do you think Chi is setting us up?”
“I mean, I could see it happening. I just hope I’m wrong in assuming that.”
“Keep Zoey close to you.”
“I will,” Rumi nodded. The two of them continued to follow their team and came to an opening in the trees. There was a frozen river that was breaking apart near the edge of a waterfall, where it crashed over the cliffside. There was one lone wolf, growling in warning at them. Mira easily dispatched it with a grunt. “That was easy.”
“Too easy,” Y/N murmured. Mira turned to face them and her eyes widened.
“Move!” Mira yelled. Rumi was shoved aside and she grunted as she hit the snow. Y/N was sent flying and she heard Zoey’s exclamation of alarm.
“Hmm, surprised you blocked that,” Chi remarked. Rumi scrambled to her feet and to Y/N, who was being helped up by Zoey. Mira was too far from them, being pushed further away by one of Chi’s men. “I shouldn’t be surprised.”
Rumi drew her saingeom, placing herself between them. “What’re you doing, Chi?”
“Testing her.”
“Why?”
“It’s not every day you get to fight a half-demon. Especially not a half shadow dragon,” Chi spoke. He sneered and swung his broadsword up, resting it on his shoulder. “I want to see how strong she is.”
“Hunters aren’t allowed to fight one another!” Zoey shouted. Chi chuckled and three of his men flanked him.
“Oh, little Miguk. People die in these gates all the time. No one would think twice…especially not when it’s her,” Chi spat. Rumi bristled at that.
“You won’t touch her,” Rumi growled. Chi merely smirked and he charged. Rumi was yanked back by the collar of her armor as Y/N met his broadsword with a short sword. “Y/N!”
“Stay by Zoey!” Y/N exclaimed. Chi drop kicked her in the stomach, making her stagger back with a gasp.
“Y/N!” Zoey yelled. Her magic surrounded her, shielding her from Chi’s next attack and giving her a chance to steady herself. Chi tsked and glanced at them.
“You two will be a nuisance,” Chi glowered. The three men who’d flanked him charged at them and Rumi cursed.
“Zoey!”
“On it!”
Zoey’s magic engulfed her, powering her with her enhancements. She met the glaive wielding warrior head-on while Zoey used her magic to force the other two back. This guy didn’t fight like Mira. Mira was strength and finesse. This man was strength and ferocity. Each strike made her arms shake. Each strike took her a bit further from Y/N and Zoey. The man’s hand shot out, striking her in the face. Pain flared from her nose as she stumbled backwards. Her vision stopped swimming as he swung up, nicking her chin. She quickly leapt back, raising her saingeom to defend herself. That had been a dirty move. Y/N’s gasp of pain caught her attention and she whirled, seeing Chi holding her up by her throat. She kicked at him to release her, but he held fast.
“Y/N!”
“Let her go!” Mira roared, fire careening from her blade. Chi swung his broadsword, slicing through her flames with his own.
“Nice try, little sister!” Chi laughed. Y/N summoned a knife and swung down, stabbing him in the arm. He released her with a pained yell, and she barely got her arms up before he swung his weapon again. It cut into her arms, and she hissed as she frantically backed away from him. “I am going to enjoy killing you, you little shit!”
He lifted his blade and his flames started to gather at the tip. Rumi’s eyes widened at the power gathering there.
“Come to me!” Mira commanded. Zoey’s magic filled her and they scrambled for Mira. Chi’s men let them and Rumi could feel the heat from his flames. Mira gathered her own flames on the tip of her woldo and firmly planted her feet. “Stay behind me!”
Chi’s flames roared towards them, taking the shape of a tornado. Mira’s shot out in a similar way, clashing with his flames. “Hah! Let’s see how this goes!”
“Zoey! Get a barrier up!” Mira yelled. Zoey conjured a barrier and Rumi knew it wasn’t going to hold long. They couldn’t fight Chi’s flames. Y/N cursed and grabbed her hand.
“We gotta move!”
“Where?!”
“On three, we jump!”
“You can’t be serious!”
“Trust me!” Y/N shouted. Rumi met her Y/E/C eyes, seeing the determination there. The worry and franticness. Reluctantly, she nodded. “On three. Aim for the water.”
“Okay,” Rumi nodded. Y/N took Zoey’s other hand and then readied herself. As Mira’s flames lost the battle she backed away, ducking behind Zoey’s barrier.
“Three!” Y/N shouted. Rumi grabbed Mira’s wrist and pulled, dragging her over the edge with her. Being weightless was strange. Seeing the water slowly approaching was even stranger. She knew they were actually falling fast, but the world seemed to slow as they fell. Zoey created another barrier around them, cushioning their fall as they crashed into the water. It shattered and Rumi felt the cold of the water engulf her. The current dragged them further downstream and she kicked her legs, searching for the surface. It’d be frozen. They were in a winter wonderland. A firm grip on her wrist made her stop flailing and she saw Mira. Her girlfriend dragged her up and Rumi snatched Zoey before she could keep floating by. They were dragged for a few more feet before the current slowed. Mira kicked her legs and Rumi helped, leading them up towards the surface. Ice blocked them, but it was no match for Mira’s fire. Especially not when she was frantically trying to save them. A hole was easily made and the three of them broke the surface, gasping for air. Mira continued to use her fire, burning them a path to shore. Rumi dragged herself out first, then pulled Zoey out. The smaller woman was shivering from the icy water.
“Zo—”
“Shit! Where’s Y/N?!” Mira exclaimed. Rumi glanced back to the water. Y/N hadn’t been behind them.
“G-go! Find her!” Zoey stammered. Rumi nodded and she ran back to the water, swimming out with Mira. The two of them dove back under the ice and searched for her. Luckily or unluckily, Y/N wasn’t far. She was trying to swim up, but her body looked heavy. Weighed down. Her prosthetic. The metal was dragging her down! Mira and Rumi swam to her, grabbing under her armpits to drag her up. It took a lot more energy than it should’ve as the swam to the opening they’d made. The moment they broke the surface; they continued to drag her. Zoey was at the water’s edge, waiting for them. She helped them pull Y/N from the water and the woman coughed up the water she’d swallowed. “Are you alright?!”
Y/N gave her a shaky thumbs up and Rumi collapsed beside them. The cold was seeping into her bones. Draining her. She was exhausted. Mira grunted and shakily stood.
“We g-gotta m-move,” Mira shook. Her teeth were chattering together, and her arms were wrapped around herself. “We n-need warmth.”
She reached down, helping Rumi to her feet before doing the same with Y/N. Zoey pointed upstream.
“T-there’s a cave!”
“G-good. W-walk,” Mira ordered. They slowly walked to the cave that Zoey had pointed out. It wasn’t that far. Really, it was only a half mile at most. But it felt longer. Y/N grunted and collapsed, pulling Zoey with her.
“Y/N!” Zoey squeaked. Rumi turned and saw that the woman was struggling to stand. She quickly went to her side, kneeling as she did.
“G-get up.”
“C-can’t,” Y/N stammered. She looked down at her leg and Rumi grimaced. It was likely locking up from freezing. Mira joined them and picked Y/N up bridal style.
“C-come on!” Mira ordered. Rumi got back to her feet with Zoey and they followed. Her body was freezing and it ached in a weird way. God, this was going from bad to worse really quick. She steadied Zoey as they stumbled to the cave, dropping onto the cool stones.
“C-clothes. N-need dry o-ones,” Zoey stammered. She opened the pouch she carried and started to pull out clothes for them. Rumi was grateful that the woman had that pouch. It was magically enhanced and had cost all of them a pretty hefty fine, but it was connected to their storage room. The room that Y/N and Zoey constantly checked to ensure they had the supplies they needed. Rumi moved to help Zoey change first, helping their youngest to get into dry clothes. The moment she was dressed, Rumi turned to Mira. Mira was trying to get Y/N changed, but the woman was pushing her away.
“This is n-not the time to be f-fighting me!” Mira chastised. Y/N glared at her and Rumi could see the fear in her eyes. The worry. She grabbed Zoey’s hand and the shorter woman looked to her.
“Promise you w-won’t freak o-out?” Rumi stammered. Zoey frowned but nodded. “S-say it.”
“I won’t freak out,” Zoey firmly spoke. She held Rumi’s gaze before looking at Y/N. The woman was staring at them uncertainly. “I won’t freak out.”
Y/N released a shaky breath and nodded to Mira. The pink haired woman helped ease her out of her armor, then the soaked undershirt. Rumi’s breath caught in her throat, but she kept herself from making a noise as Y/N turned her back to them. She was covered in scars. New and old. Y/N changed her sports bra too and allowed Mira to help slip several layers of clothes over her head.
“Legs,” Mira grunted. Y/N pulled her legs from her pants and Rumi saw the damage. The metal near the woman’s skin was turning colors. “S-shit.”
Zoey didn’t hesitate. She ran forward, digging into her pouch again. This time, she pulled out a white potion bottle. She uncorked it and started to pour it over the wound. Y/N hissed at the feeling and Zoey held her leg still. “Don’t move.”
Y/N grimaced as she continued to pour the potion and Rumi exchanged a look with Mira. Her girlfriend shrugged and quickly started to change her own clothes. Rumi followed suit, changing into dry clothes. The clothes were dropped into a soggy pile while Rumi started to build a fire. Mira dug into Zoey’s pouch, pulling out blankets for them, along with hand warmers.
“Here,” Mira spoke, tossing one to Rumi. She caught it and held it between her hands. God, that felt nice. Zoey helped redress Y/N, keeping an eye on her leg. She angrily stood and Rumi flinched from the intensity in her gaze.
“Okay. Someone tell me what’s going on!”
Point of View Change, Zoey
Zoey glared at her teammates, angrily clenching her hands. They were all keeping something from her. All three of them. “What’s going on?!”
“You said you wouldn’t freak out,” Rumi spoke. Zoey turned her full glare at her, making her cower. Good. Sit there and cower. She wasn’t freaking out. She was pissed.
“I-I told them not to say anything,” Y/N explained. Zoey whipped around to look down at the woman. She was staring at her legs with a defeated look on her face. “I didn’t want you to worry.”
“Well, mission NOT accomplished! Now I’m cold and worried!” Zoey exclaimed. She took a seat beside her again and looked at her leg. The metal leg that was catching the firelight. “What happened?”
“I lost my leg in that fight,” Y/N explained. Zoey ran her fingers over the freezing metal, using a bit of magic to warm it. “The cold must’ve messed with it.”
“I’ll ask eomma to look into that,” Rumi spoke up. Rumi’s mother. They were all in on this together with just Zoey not knowing what had happened.
“I’m sorry, Zoey,” Y/N apologized. Zoey grumbled and held out her hands, healing the cuts to Y/N’s arms. “I didn’t want to worry you.”
“Again…you’ve failed at that,” Zoey countered. Y/N kept her gaze averted. “I’m mad at you. All three of you.”
Rumi draped a blanket over Zoey’s shoulders while Mira did the same for Y/N. “We really are sorry, Zo.”
“We can talk about it later. AFTER we get out of here,” Zoey huffed. She was still mad at them, but they did need to get out of here. In one piece preferably. Mira grunted and pulled her blanket tighter around herself.
“This whole thing is my fault. I shouldn’t have given in to Chi’s taunting. I’m sorry I brought you guys into this mess.”
“That’s okay. You can pay us back by buying us dinner,” Zoey firmly spoke. She glanced up at Mira, seeing the shocked look on her face. “I think that would be an adequate payment.”
“Sure Zo, whatever you want,” Mira smiled. Zoey nodded and looked back at Y/N, pointing an accusing finger at her.
“And you! You’re on dishes duty for a week!”
“If you stop glaring at me like that, I’ll do it for two weeks,” Y/N offered. Zoey nodded in appreciation and looked at Rumi. The woman blushed under her gaze and her eyes darted around.
“I um…I’ll tutor you?”
“You do that anyways.”
“Umm…I’ll buy you a plushy?”
“I like that plan!”
“Rumi, she doesn’t need more plushies,” Mira deadpanned. Zoey stuck her tongue out at her and Rumi chuckled. That would suffice. “We need a plan. Chi won’t go far. He’s likely hanging out by the entrance.”
“How do we fight him?” Y/N asked. They turned to her and she gestured to her leg. “I can’t do much in this weather. Everything is locking up. I can feel it when we move.”
“I can use my summoning magic,” Zoey offered. She hadn’t used it in front of them yet. She’d been saving it for a special occasion. A situation where they’d need it. “If I do this, it’ll use all of my magic. Well, almost all of it. I know better than to use it all.”
“Your summoning magic uses that much power?” Mira questioned. Zoey nodded and fiddled with her rings.
“When I use my summoning, I pour my magic into it. It’s an extension of myself. Not some random creatures that I summon. They come from me,” Zoey explained. She placed her hand against her chest, feeling her heart. “I use my own essence to summon and power them. They listen to me because they are a part of me.”
“What can you summon?” Rumi asked.
“Anything I’ve seen and studied.”
Y/N perked at that. “Drakes?”
“Mhmm,” Zoey nodded. She glanced between them, seeing the surprise on their faces. The awe. She blushed and ducked her head again. “If we do this, I’ll summon drakes to help.”
“That could work,” Mira nodded. She picked up pebbles, placing them on the ground. “Chi and his team will be blocking the entrance. I can take Chi, but I won’t be able to hold off his entire team.”
“I won’t be of much help while I’m summoning. My spells will be a lot weaker,” Zoey added. Y/N pulled the blanket tighter around herself.
“I’ll try my best to help, but my leg might not hold out long.”
“…we’re outpowered,” Mira murmured. They were heavily outnumbered. Chi had a team of skilled hunters. They would easily beat them in their current state.
“I-I might have a solution to that,” Rumi stammered. They looked to their leader, seeing the worry on her face. “I can help us with the power imbalance.”
“You’ll be a lot of help, yes, but we will still be outnumbered,” Mira countered. Rumi shook her head and stood, blanket falling from her shoulders as she did. She fiddled with her ring, and Zoey could see how her body trembled.
“I know…that’s why I have to do this,” Rumi sighed. She fiddled with her ring more and her eyes darted between them. “Promise you won’t get mad?”
“Rumi.”
“No, Mira. I need to know that you won’t get mad. At least not right now. We have to focus on getting out of here.”
“Okay,” Mira relented. Rumi nodded and slid her ring from her finger. Zoey watched in awe as marks glowed under Rumi’s clothes. Watched as they swirled on her face, glowing a deep purple. Rumi took a shaky breath and wrapped her arms around herself. “Wha—”
“I’m a half-demon…like Y/N,” Rumi explained. She lowered her head and clenched her hands. The marks glowed more erratically while she squeezed her eyes shut. “I’m sorry for lying about this.”
Mira stood, slowly approaching Rumi. The shorter woman flinched when Mira stopped in front of her. “Your ring?”
“I-it made it so my powers were weaker. So I was weaker. I didn’t want to hurt anyone. Not again,” Rumi explained. Mira gently took her hand, and Zoey could see the marks on her hands.
“Does it hurt you?”
“Um…no? I mean, not really.”
“Rumi.”
“Okay, it doesn’t feel good, but it doesn’t necessarily hurt. It’s more like a constant headache than anything else. Like my skin is crawling or something is itching to get out,” Rumi spoke. Mira tenderly cupped her face, lifting her head. She rested her forehead against Rumi’s with a sigh.
“We’ll talk about this later,” Mira murmured. Zoey glanced at Y/N, seeing the small smile on her face. Okay, not an entire disaster. Not great though that Rumi was hiding something from them. But they could figure this out later. Right now, they needed to get out of here.
“Rumi, how much faster are you without that ring?” Zoey asked. Rumi pulled away from Mira, furrowing her brow as she did.
“A lot? I’m not really sure. I’ve never tried to fight without my ring.”
“Okay, so we use Rumi as our trump card!” Zoey exclaimed. She went to the rocks, moving them around. “Mira and Y/N can go in first and I’ll follow with my summoning magic. When Rumi sees an opening, she goes in for the kill!”
“I am NOT killing someone.”
“Sorry! Wrong wording. You’ll go in and incapacitate them. Knock them out so we can get out.”
“We can’t leave without them. That’ll look…suspicious,” Y/N added. Zoey nodded and gestured to her bag.
“I have rope.”
“Kinky,” Mira teased. Rumi elbowed her in the gut, making her grunt. Zoey smiled while Y/N rolled her eyes. They had a plan. They just had to make sure said plan worked out.
They stayed in that cave for another hour before finally moving. True to the plan, Rumi stayed in the back where she could slip into the trees to hide. Mira and Y/N stayed in the front, making sure that the attention would stay on them. Zoey was already gathering her magic as they walked. Once they got there, she would summon.
“Ah! There they are!” Chi laughed. Mira summoned her woldo, Y/N a sword and shield. Zoey did a quick glance behind her, seeing that Rumi was already gone. “Where’s your fourth member? Did she drown when you fled like a coward?”
Mira merely swung her weapon, holding it in a defensive stance. Chi growled in irritation and drew his broadsword. He pointed it at Y/N with flames gathering around the blade.
“I don’t want you. I want her,” Chi spoke. Y/N tensed while Mira stepped between them.
“You aren’t going to get to her.”
“Like you could stop me.”
“I can’t…but she can,” Mira countered. Zoey held up her hands and let her magic surge. A wave of blue erupted from beneath her feet, expanding outwards as it spread. She molded her magic. Shaped it into what she wanted. Claws sprouted from the ground, yanking their bodies from the swirling blue. A half dozen drakes pulled themselves from the ground, snarling as they did. Chi’s team cursed, drawing their weapons.
“Go,” Zoey commanded. The drakes charged forward and she had them target Chi’s men. They slashed into them, claws meeting armor and teeth finding flesh. Mira focused on Chi while Y/N ran beside the drakes. Her shield bashed into the archer, staggering him and giving Y/N a clear shot. She stabbed him in the shoulder before punching him, knocking him out. The enemy mage threw a fireball and Y/N blocked it with her shield. The drakes went for the tank with Y/N close behind. Zoey watched as she ducked the swing of his glaive and she sent two drakes at him. He shouted in alarm as one latched onto his arm and the other his leg. The runes on his armor pulsed once before a shockwave was sent out. Y/N blocked with her shield, but the two drakes were destroyed. Zoey gasped as her two summons were taken out. The enemy mage gathered his magic and Zoey prepared herself to dodge.
“Zoey!” Y/N exclaimed. Her shield came flying at her and Zoey caught it, just in time to block the magic that had been sent at her. Y/N didn’t let up for even a second. The moment her shield had left her hands, she was on the mage. She struck him across the back of his knees, rendering movement impossible. The butt of her sword struck him in the head to knock him unconscious. The tank took that moment to strike. He charged for Y/N and Zoey commanded the drakes to move. They intercepted him, getting cleaved in two as they did. Four. Three. Two. Zoey was down to two. Y/N held out her hand, and her shield left Zoey’s hand to reappear in her own. She blocked the hit but was sent flying back.
“Y/N!”
“I’m good!”
Y/N rolled to her feet and her shadows dispersed. She resummoned her weapons, drawing throwing knives. She threw them with precision, striking the tank where his armor didn’t cover. He snarled as the knives dug into his skin and Zoey moved her remaining drakes to Y/N’s side. Her magic was getting weaker, but that didn’t stop her from helping Y/N. The woman backed away from the tank, placing herself protectively in front of Zoey. “You okay?”
“Y-yeah. I’m good,” Zoey stammered. Her drakes growled in warning at the tank, making him sneer. He twirled his weapon and Y/N made her hands turn to claws. She growled lowly, daring the man to move. He shot forward with a speed that was impressive for his size. Zoey’s drakes didn’t have time to react as he swung his weapon down. Y/N caught the shaft of the weapon, blade inches from her face.
“I’m going to bash that head in of yours, bulhaeng,” he sneered. Y/N growled and Zoey could see her arms shaking. The runes on his armor pulsed again and he pressed harder. He was using magic to help him fight. The drakes latched onto him, biting and clawing to no avail. He wasn’t interested in them. He was interested in Y/N. A blur moved to their left and Zoey brought her hand up, creating a shield to block the assailant. A dagger had pierced through it, barely being stopped from striking Y/N in the side. Assassin type. “You’re outnumbered, bulhaeng.”
“That’s what you think,” Y/N growled. The air seemed to shimmer and from a puff of pink smoke, Rumi appeared. She swung her leg, nailing the tank type in his face. He staggered back and Rumi used him as a catapult, launching herself at the assassin. Her strikes were fast, nearly impossible to track. Rumi punched him straight in the face, knocking him right out. She shook her hand out with a grimace.
“Ow,” Rumi complained. Y/N scoffed and took a stand beside her.
“Really? Ow? Do you not know how to throw a punch?”
“In my defense, I normally use a palm strike.”
“Then why didn’t you?”
“I hoped it would knock him out faster,” Rumi sheepishly answered. Zoey shuddered, feeling the fatigue in her body. “Zoey?”
“I’m fine. Focus on the tank and then we need to help Mira,” Zoey stated. She looked to Mira, seeing her fighting against Chi. Their weapons moved with a strength that was startling. Fire exploded on each hit and Mira looked…well, dangerous. Her face was set in a furious scowl as Chi sneered at her. They needed to get to Mira to help her. Zoey grabbed a mana potion and downed it, feeling a bit of magic return to her. She held out her hands and enchanted Rumi and Y/N. “Go. Kick their ass.”
“Got it,” they responded. Y/N went for the tank, and Rumi went to help Mira. Zoey sent one drake with each of them, using her summonings to fight. She commanded them to tear into their enemies. Commanded them to take the hits that were meant for her friends. She commanded them to act as a distraction so Y/N could lock the tank into a choke hold. She commanded them to clamp down on Chi’s dominant arm, making him drop his weapon. She couldn’t do much, but she could do that. She could use her summonings to help. Y/N grunted as she hit the ground, enemy falling limp beside her.
“Why do the big ones take so long to knock out?” Y/N panted. Zoey chuckled and her knees gave out. Y/N was by her side in an instant, catching her before she could hit the ground. “I got you.”
“I used too much magic.”
“I noticed. Your drakes are still trying to fight.”
“I can only hold it for a little longer.”
“We don’t need mu—” Y/N’s eyes widened and she summoned her shield. Zoey grunted as the woman pulled her close and felt the heat of flames around them.
“Y/N! Zoey!” Mira exclaimed. Y/N cursed and Zoey could see the shield wavering. Y/N was tiring just as much as she was. The shield started to crack, and Y/N moved. She turned them around, using her own body to block the flames. Darkness encased Zoey as she was held against Y/N’s chest. The darkness didn’t scare Zoey. It was oddly comforting. Like it was protecting her. The darkness receded and Zoey realized why they had felt comforting. The darkness had been Y/N’s shadows. She’d used her shadows to protect them from the flames. Y/N’s body tipped forward and Zoey steadied her.
“Y/N?”
“S-sorry. Tired,” Y/N mumbled.
“Zoey! Y/N!” Rumi shouted. She ran to them and dropped to her knees beside them. “Are you hurt?”
Zoey shook her head while Y/N gave her a thumbs up. The woman visibly relaxed at the knowledge that they weren’t hurt. “Did you get Chi?”
“Yeah. Mira knocked him out,” Rumi nodded. Her brow furrowed before she twirled, growling softly as she did.
“Whoa! Easy! We’re here to help!” Jinu exclaimed. Jinu? Zoey glanced over Y/N’s shoulder, seeing her brother. He had his hands up in a pacifying manner as he eyed Rumi. “Bobby sent Baek a distress call. We came as soon as we could.”
“You sure took your time,” Rumi huffed. Jinu gave her a sheepish smile. Jinu’s team was moving around, tying up Chi’s. They were making quick work of them. Mira hurried to their side and stood between them and Jinu.
“Back off, pretty boy,” Mira lowly threatened. Jinu sighed and took a few steps back.
“I promise, we’re here to help. I know you guys are probably feeling anything but trusting, but we wouldn’t betray you. I wouldn’t allow it,” Jinu assured. He looked at Zoey, giving her a small smile. “I wouldn’t dare make my little sister mad.”
Zoey reached out, placing her hand on Rumi’s shoulder. The woman glanced back at her and she shook her head. “You know he wouldn’t turn on us. If he did, I’d kick his ass.”
“Like you can reach my ass,” Jinu teased. Mira continued to glare at him and Zoey thought she’d punch him. Rumi sighed, reaching out to grab Mira’s hand. The woman tensed but didn’t take her eyes off Jinu.
“Mir. We need to trust him. He’s never done anything to hurt us. Baek even vouched for us after Y/N rescued them,” Rumi tried. Mira shook her head, pulling her hand free. Zoey could see the way Rumi flinched at the action. The lack of contact was short lived as Mira backed up more, placing her hand on Rumi’s head. Rumi sighed in relief and Zoey smiled at Jinu.
“Can you help us take Chi and his team out?”
“Got it…oh! And Zoey?”
“Yeah?”
“Your summoning magic has gotten a lot stronger,” Jinu complimented. He jutted his thumb over his shoulder at the two remaining drakes. “Those are impressive.”
Zoey blushed and lowered her head. “T-thanks.”
They watched him go and Mira knelt beside Rumi.
“You okay, jagiya?” Mira gently asked. Rumi nodded and rested her forehead against Mira’s. Mira sighed, kissing her nose. “Good. Zoey? Y/N?”
“Just tired.”
“I’m exhausted,” Zoey added.
Mira nodded and she de-summoned her woldo. “Let’s get out of here. It’s freezing.”
“I don’t think I can walk,” Y/N huffed. Rumi stood and easily picked Y/N up, eliciting a soft squeak of protest from her. The woman blushed as Rumi smirked at her.
“Well, that was an interesting noise.”
“I will punch you,” Y/N growled. Zoey giggled and Mira pointed to her back. She smiled and jumped onto it, wrapping her arms around the taller woman’s shoulders. She pressed her face against the back of Mira’s head with a sigh.
“Comfy?” Mira asked. Zoey hummed and Mira’s hands moved to her thighs, holding her secure.
“Zoey? The drakes?” Rumi asked. Ah, right. Zoey snapped her fingers, releasing her summons. The moment they were gone, Zoey felt some strength return to her. Holding them together for so long was taxing. She was glad that she was strong enough to keep them for as long as she did.
“You owe us dinner,” Zoey murmured.
“Okay, Zo. I’ll even buy you ice cream after,” Mira chuckled.
“Really?”
“Hmm, maybe. Depends on if you can stay awake long enough to go eat.”
“If we don’t go today, you’ll owe us dinner for a week.”
“I’ll buy you dinner every day if it makes you happy.”
Zoey smiled and relaxed against Mira. “I’ll hold you to that.”
Soft light slipped through the curtains, brushing over warm skin and tangled sheets, the quiet of the northern palace wrapping around them like a cocoon.
Y/N was moving faster as they felt their climax close.
“Y/N…ah…I’m close” Wanda moan into Y/N ear.
Y/N’s breath caught as Wanda’s voice broke against their ear, soft and desperate and full of trust.
“Me too, my love,” Y/N whispered again, kissing slowly along Wanda’s neck before pressing their forehead against hers.
Their movements never stopped.
Steady. Deep. Loving.
Wanda clung to Y/N’s shoulders, trembling harder with every passing second, her breath turning uneven as quiet moans slipped between them. Y/N held her close through it all, one hand tangled with Wanda’s, the other resting against her waist like they couldn’t bear even an inch of distance.
Then Wanda shattered first.
A broken gasp left her lips as she arched against Y/N, clutching tightly to them while the pleasure rolled through her in waves. The sound of Wanda falling apart like that pushed Y/N over the edge right behind her.
Y/N buried their face against Wanda’s neck with a low, breathless groan as their own climax hit, body shaking while they held Wanda tightly through every second of it.
For a while, neither of them moved.
Only slow breaths filled the room.
Y/N hovered over Wanda afterward, both of them flushed and still catching their breath, foreheads nearly touching beneath the soft morning light.
Wanda’s fingers brushed weakly through Y/N’s hair, a sleepy smile tugging at her lips.
For a moment—they didn’t move. Just stayed there feeling each other. Wanda’s hands rested against Y/N’s back, fingers curled slightly, her chest rising and falling beneath them. Y/N’s arms held her securely, careful despite how close they were, mindful of every shift, every breath.
Their gaze dropped to her face. Flushed and beautiful.
Y/N leaned down, kissing her—slow, deep, unhurried. Not chasing anything now. Just savoring.
Wanda kissed them back just as softly, her lips lingering, her hands sliding up to their shoulders.
When Y/N pulled back, just enough to look at her, a smile spread across their face.
“Happy birthday, my love.”
Wanda’s expression softened instantly, her eyes warm as she smiled back.
She kissed them again. Gentle and sweet.
Y/N exhaled quietly against her lips, their nose brushing hers as their hand slid along her side, grounding.
“We should…” they murmured between kisses, voice low, still a little rough. “I need to get things ready for you.”
Wanda didn’t let them move.
Her hand came up, slipping behind their neck, pulling them back down before they could even try to pull away.
“I’m not done,” she whispered.
Y/N let out a quiet, helpless breath.
“…Wanda.”
“Just one more time,” she murmured against their lips, already kissing them again.
And that—
that was all it took.
Y/N melted instantly, giving in without another word, kissing her deeper this time, slower, like the morning belonged only to them.
Their hand slid along her thigh, careful but instinctive, hooking gently beneath her knee to pull her closer—to keep her there with them, like they couldn’t get enough.
Wanda let out a soft breath against their lips—
but then—she broke the kiss.
Y/N froze immediately.
“…Wait,” Wanda whispered, her voice still soft but different now.
Y/N blinked, breath uneven, hovering just above her.
Y/N frowned faintly—then felt it. A strong, sudden kick against their stomach. They both paused—and then Y/N let out a quiet, breathless laugh.
“Okay—” they murmured, dropping their forehead against hers. “That was definitely on purpose.”
Wanda laughed softly beneath them, her hands sliding up to their shoulders.
“I told you.”
Y/N shook their head slightly, still smiling, then shifted carefully, one hand immediately moving to her stomach again, palm spreading protectively.
“Hey,” they whispered, amused. “Good morning to you too.”
Another faint movement answered.
Y/N huffed softly. “Yeah, yeah… we hear you.”
They leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to her bump, lingering there a moment. Y/N huffed softly, their lips still brushing against her skin as they lingered there.
“You were not supposed to wake up yet,” they murmured, voice low and amused. “It’s still Mama and Papa’s time.”
Wanda laughed quietly above them, fingers sliding into their hair.
“Tell them that,” she whispered.
As if in response—another small, insistent kick.
Y/N stilled—then let out a quiet, incredulous laugh.
“Oh, so now you’re answering back?” they said, lifting their head slightly before looking down again, their hand spreading protectively over her bump.
“Already stubborn,” they added.
Wanda smiled, watching them, her eyes soft.
“They take after you.”
Y/N glanced up at her. “That is not absurd.”
Wanda giggled.
Another faint movement followed. Y/N shook their head, smiling despite themselves, then leaned down again, pressing a softer, gentler kiss this time.
“Alright, alright,” they murmured. “We’ll share.”
Their thumb traced slow circles.
“But just this once.”
Wanda laughed, pulling them back up by the back of their neck, kissing them again—slower now, more affectionate than before.
“I guess my plan to have you inside me the whole day is ruined,” she whispered against their lips.
Y/N chuckled softly against her lips, the sound low and warm as they rested their forehead briefly against hers. “Careful,” they murmured, amused. “You’re setting expectations I might not be able to meet.”
Wanda’s fingers tightened slightly at the back of their neck, her eyes still heavy with warmth as she looked at them.
“I was very serious,” she whispered.
Y/N smiled, brushing their nose lightly against hers.
“I know you were.”
Their hand slid gently over her side, grounding, before settling again over her stomach.
“But,” they added, softer now, “I have a surprise for you tonight.”
Wanda’s brows lifted slightly.
“A surprise?”
Y/N nodded.
“Mm. A proper one.”
A small pause—then they leaned closer again, voice dropping just enough to tease, “Maybe we can… continue your plan after that.”
The look Wanda gave them—warm, heated, unmistakable—made something in Y/N’s chest tighten.
“Oh,” they breathed, before kissing her again. This time deeper. Hungrier. Like they forgot, just for a second—everything else.
Wanda responded instantly, pulling them closer, the moment slipping again—until—Y/N stilled. Again.
They pulled back just enough, eyes dropping between them as they felt it.
Another firm kick.
Clear.
Insistent.
Y/N exhaled sharply, then laughed under their breath, shaking their head. “…Fine,” they muttered. “Got it.”
Wanda burst into laughter, her hand covering her mouth as she leaned back slightly.
“They really don’t like being ignored.”
Y/N sat back a little more, still smiling but clearly defeated for the moment.
“Apparently not.”
Wanda looked at them, still amused—but there was a hint of shared frustration there too.
“…Tonight,” she reminded softly.
Y/N met her gaze, a faint smirk returning.
“Tonight.”
And this time—they both meant it.
---
By the time Y/N stepped out into the corridors, the warmth of the morning still lingered on their skin—but their mind had shifted. Today wasn’t just any day. It was Wanda’s.
And they were going to make it right.
They found Happy near the main hall of the northern palace, already overseeing the preparations. Servants moved quietly around him—carrying flowers, setting tables, adjusting candles.
It wasn’t grand. Not like the capital.
But that was the point.
Y/N approached, hands resting briefly behind their back as they took everything in.
“Happy.”
Ser Hogan turned immediately, a small, respectful bow following.
“Your Majesty.”
Y/N glanced around once more.
“Everything alright?”
Happy’s expression softened slightly. “It is,” he said. “The preparations are going well. Just as you instructed.”
Y/N nodded.
“Keep it simple,” they reminded. “No unnecessary extravagance.”
“Of course.”
A small pause. Then Happy added, more gently—“Her Majesty will like this.”
Y/N’s expression softened. “…I hope so.”
Happy smiled. “She will.”
Y/N exhaled quietly, nodding once before stepping further into the space.
The hall had already begun to transform. Soft lights. Fresh flowers—nothing too arranged, just natural, warm. A long table, but not formal. More like something meant to gather people, not impress them.
This wasn’t for nobles. Not for politics. This was—
for them.
The knights. The servants. The people who stayed.
And the people who mattered.
Y/N’s gaze lingered on the details for a moment longer before turning back.
“Food?”
“Already being prepared,” Happy replied.
“Music?”
“A small group. Nothing overwhelming.”
Y/N nodded.
“Good.”
Another pause.
Then, quieter—“Lina?”
“Her maid is helping her get ready. She’s… very excited.”
Y/N huffed softly.
“That sounds about right.”
Happy’s lips curved faintly.
Y/N stood there for a moment after that. Just looking. Taking it in. Not as a king—but as someone preparing something for the person they loved most.
“…It’s not much,” they murmured.
Happy tilted his head slightly.
Then asked, carefully—
“May I ask, Your Majesty… why keep it this small?”
Y/N glanced at him.
“Small?”
“Her Majesty’s birthday,” Happy continued gently. “It is usually… something the whole kingdom would celebrate.”
Y/N let out a quiet breath.
“…I know.”
Their gaze drifted back to the hall. To the simple arrangements. The warmth instead of grandeur.
“My father would have made it… loud,” they said after a moment. “A display.”
Their expression tightened slightly.
“He liked to show off. Power. Wealth. Control.”
A pause.
“I never did.”
Happy didn’t interrupt.
Y/N crossed their arms loosely, still watching as a servant adjusted a table setting. “And we just became stable,” they added. “The kingdom is only starting to settle. I won’t pull resources just to impress people.”
They shook their head faintly.
“That’s not what this is.”
Happy’s expression softened.
“…Then what is it?”
Y/N’s gaze shifted again—this time, warmer.
“Family,” they said simply.
A small pause.
“Friends.”
They exhaled quietly.
“She deserves a day that feels… real.”
Not watched. Not performed.
Just—hers.
“And we want to spend it with the people who actually matter to us.”
Happy smiled.
A quiet, approving kind of smile.
“I believe that is far more meaningful.”
Y/N glanced at him.
“…I think so too.”
Then, after a beat, a faint smirk touched their lips.
“And it also means fewer speeches.”
Happy chuckled softly.
“A wise decision, Your Majesty.”
Y/N huffed lightly.
“Exactly.”
---
Wanda’s POV
The garden was quieter than the rest of the palace.
It always had been.
The northern air carried a soft chill, the kind that felt refreshing rather than cold, and the flowers here grew a little wilder—less arranged, more natural. Wanda liked that.
She sat on a stone bench beneath a flowering tree, one hand resting over her stomach, the other lightly brushing the petals beside her.
Across from her, Ser Romanoff stood at first—as always. Composed.
Wanda glanced up at her. “You can sit, you know.”
Nat hesitated slightly. “…Your Majesty—”
“Nat.”
Nat exhaled quietly and sat beside her. Not stiff, but not fully relaxed either.
Wanda smiled faintly. “Better.”
Nat glanced at her. “…You used to say that all the time.”
Wanda hummed softly.
“And you used to ignore me every time.”
“That is still accurate.”
Wanda laughed quietly. The sound felt easy here.
They sat in comfortable silence for a moment, the wind brushing gently through the garden. Then Nat’s gaze shifted—to Wanda’s stomach. “…How are you feeling?” she asked.
Wanda followed her gaze, her hand instinctively smoothing over the fabric. “Good,” she said softly. “Tired sometimes.”
Nat nodded. “That’s expected.”
Wanda glanced at her, amused. “You sound like a healer.”
“I listen,” Nat replied simply.
Wanda smiled. “They moved two days ago,” Wanda said quietly.
Nat’s head turned immediately. “…The baby?”
Wanda nodded, her expression softening. “For the first time.”
Nat’s features shifted—subtle, but there. Something warmer. “…How was it?”
Wanda let out a quiet breath. “Everything.”A small laugh followed.
“I cried.”
Nat’s lips curved faintly. “I would have expected nothing less.”
Wanda nudged her lightly. “You’re terrible.”
“I am accurate, Your Majesty.”
They both smiled.
Then Nat leaned back slightly, her posture easing just a little more than before. “…And Their Majesty?” she asked.
Wanda smiled immediately. Soft. Fond. “They’re… excited,” she said.
Nat raised a brow slightly. “That is one way to describe them.”
Wanda laughed quietly. “They’ve been hovering over me since yesterday.”
“I am not surprised.”
“They won’t let me carry anything,” Wanda continued, amused. “They keep asking if I’m tired, if I’ve eaten, if I need to sit—”
Nat nodded. “That is also expected.”
Wanda glanced at her. “You’re enjoying this.”
“A little.”
Wanda shook her head, smiling.
For a moment, neither of them spoke. The breeze moved softly through the garden, carrying the scent of flowers and something familiar—something that reminded Wanda of a place far away.
“…Do you remember the south courtyard in Sokovia?” Wanda asked suddenly.
Nat glanced at her. “With the broken fountain?”
Wanda laughed. “It wasn’t broken.”
“It was,” Nat said calmly. “You insisted it added ‘character.’”
“It did,” Wanda defended.
Nat’s lips twitched.
“You used to sit there for hours.”
Wanda leaned back slightly, looking up through the branches above them.
“It was quiet,” she said. “Before everything got… loud.”
Nat nodded.
“I used to stand three steps behind you,” she added.
Wanda glanced at her. “You didn’t have to.”
“I did.”
Wanda smiled faintly.
“…You always stayed anyway.”
“I always will.”
The words settled between them—simple, but steady.
Wanda’s expression softened. “This is my first birthday without Pietro,” she said.
Nat’s gaze shifted to her immediately.
Wanda looked down at her hands. “I sent him a gift,” she added softly. “Before we left.”
Nat nodded. “I sent one as well.”
Wanda looked at her, a small smile forming. “He’ll like that.”
“He will complain first,” Nat said. “Then he will like it.”
Wanda laughed quietly.
A small pause followed. Not heavy—but felt. Wanda’s hand moved over her stomach again, grounding herself in the present. Then she glanced at Nat. “What about Yelena?” she asked. “Have you heard from her?”
Nat exhaled quietly, leaning back slightly. “We write often,” she said. “She was… not pleased I chose to stay.”
Wanda laughed softly. “I feel like I should apologize.”
“You should not.”
Wanda tilted her head. “Is she still mad?”
Nat considered that. “…Less.”Then Nat added—“She wants to come here.”
Wanda blinked. “To Virelia?”
Nat nodded. “She said she would rather be annoyed at me in person than through letters.”
Wanda laughed.
Nat’s expression softened just slightly. “She wants to be close.”
Wanda looked at her. “Would you want that?”
Nat didn’t hesitate. “Yes.” Honest.
Wanda smiled warmly. “Then I hope she comes.”
Nat glanced at her. “…You would allow it?”
Wanda raised a brow. “Of course I would.”
A small pause.
“Anyone important to you is welcome here.”
Nat held her gaze for a second—then nodded. “…Thank you, Your Majesty.”
Wanda rolled her eyes lightly. “Don’t start that again.”
Nat let out a quiet laugh—soft, but real.
Wanda blinked, then laughed too, the sound easy and familiar, like it used to be. “There it is,” Wanda said, nudging her lightly. “You can laugh.”
“Rarely,” Nat replied dryly.
Wanda hummed, clearly unconvinced. A small pause settled between them, comfortable again—until Wanda tilted her head slightly, her eyes narrowing just a little with mischief.
“So,” she said casually.
Nat glanced at her. “…So?”
Wanda’s lips curved. “Did you mention Ser Barnes in any of those letters?”
Nat stilled just for a second before saying, “…No.”which came out too quick.
Wanda’s smile widened immediately. “Not even once?”
“No.”
Wanda leaned a little closer, her tone turning lighter—teasing. “Not even to complain about him?”
“I do not complain.”
“Not even to mention that you spend an interesting amount of time training with him?”
Nat looked straight ahead. “I train with many people.”
Wanda hummed softly. “Of course you do.”
A beat passed before she added, far too casually, “…But not like that.”
Nat turned her head slowly. “…Like what?”
Wanda met her gaze without a hint of shame. “Like the way you look at him.”
Nat blinked once, then immediately looked away. “…You are imagining things.”
Wanda laughed under her breath. “I’m really not.”
A faint flush crept up Nat’s neck—subtle, but impossible to miss. Wanda noticed instantly.
“Oh,” she said, delighted. “That’s new.”
“It is not new.”
“You’re blushing.”
“I am not.”
“You are.”
Nat exhaled quietly through her nose, trying very hard to stay composed and failing just enough for Wanda to enjoy it.
Wanda leaned back, entirely too pleased with herself. “You didn’t tell Yelena because you know exactly what she would say.”
Nat went still for half a second. “…She would be insufferable.”
Wanda grinned immediately. “So you did think about telling her.”
Nat closed her eyes briefly, already regretting this conversation. “…That is not what I said.”
“Mm-hm,” Wanda laughed.
Nat shook her head faintly, but there was no real denial left anymore—only quiet resignation and something softer lingering underneath it.
Wanda watched her for another moment before smiling to herself. Because some things were finally starting to change.
---
They lingered there a while longer, their conversation drifting from teasing to quiet again, the garden wrapping around them in a calm that felt almost untouched by the rest of the world. Until they heard footsteps approaching. Familiar ones.
Wanda looked up first. And there—Y/N.
Walking toward them through the garden path, sunlight catching lightly on their shoulders, a small bundle of fresh flowers in their hand. Their eyes found Wanda immediately. And softened.
A smile followed—easy, a little charming, a little proud.
“For my queen,” they said as they approached, holding the flowers out toward her. A small tilt of their head. “The birthday girl.”
Wanda’s lips parted slightly, caught off guard for just a second—then she smiled softly and warm. “Thank you,” she said, reaching out to take them carefully her fingers brushing theirs.
Y/N didn’t pull away immediately. Their gaze lingered.
“Picked them myself,” they added, quieter now. “So… don’t expect perfection.”
Wanda glanced down at the flowers. Then back at them. “I think they’re perfect.”
Y/N huffed softly, but there was no hiding the smile that followed.
Behind them, Nat stood quietly, giving them space as she always did. “…Your Majesty,” she said, inclining her head slightly.
Y/N glanced at her and nodded once. “Romanoff.” But their attention returned to Wanda almost immediately, their hand already settling lightly against the small of her back.
“…You’ve been out here a while,” they said softly. “Are you tired?”
Wanda smiled, amused. “I’m fine.”
Y/N narrowed their eyes just slightly. “That’s not an answer.”
“It is.”
“It’s not a useful one.”
Wanda laughed under her breath. Behind them, Nat looked away—but not before the faintest flicker of amusement crossed her face. Adjusting the flowers in her hands, Wanda looked back at Y/N. “What now?”
Something playful slipped into Y/N’s expression. “…Lunch,” they answered. Then, softer, “And after that, I’ll steal you away again.”
Wanda lifted a brow. “Steal me?”
Y/N only leaned closer, brushing a lingering kiss against her cheek before straightening again. Then they glanced toward Nat. “Join us for lunch.”
Nat blinked, visibly caught off guard. “That won’t be—”
“We insist,” Y/N interrupted gently, wearing that familiar smile that never really left room for refusal.
Nat opened her mouth, paused, then let out a quiet breath. “…yes, Your Majesty.”
Wanda tried not to smile at that. Failed immediately.
Y/N looked satisfied as they turned toward one of the nearby maids. “Have lunch brought here,” they instructed. “Something light.” The maid bowed quickly.
“And,” Y/N added, glancing briefly back at Wanda, “see if Lina would like to join us.”
Wanda’s expression softened instantly. Beside her, Nat folded her hands behind her back again—but this time, she didn’t step away completely.
Once the maid hurried off, Y/N returned to Wanda’s side, their hand naturally finding its place at her back again. “Better than the dining hall,” they murmured.
“Much,” Wanda agreed.
Nat glanced around the garden, then at the two of them. “…It is,” she admitted quietly.
Y/N smirked faintly. “See? Good decisions.”
Wanda laughed softly, flowers still gathered carefully in her hands as the breeze drifted through the garden once more, gentler now, carrying the quiet promise of a slow afternoon.
And for once, no one was in a hurry.
---
Later that Day
The warmth of the bath still lingered on Wanda’s skin.
The chamber was softly lit, candles flickering gently as the last traces of steam faded into the air. The scent of the oils Lily had used—something floral, something calming—clung lightly to Wanda, wrapping around her like a quiet embrace.
Lily moved with practiced ease behind her.
Careful. Attentive.
She had already helped Wanda bathe, her hands gentle as she worked the aromatic oils into her skin, easing every bit of tension from the day. It had been slow, soothing—enough that Wanda had nearly fallen asleep more than once.
Now, she stood before the mirror as Lily helped her into her gown. The fabric was soft and elegant. Flowing in a way that didn’t restrict her, but still shaped her beautifully—fitted just enough to highlight her form, while allowing room for her growing bump without pressure.
Wanda’s fingers brushed lightly over it as Lily adjusted the final ties.
“…This is new,” Wanda murmured.
Lily smiled faintly in the reflection. “It is, Your Majesty.”
Wanda tilted her head slightly. “It’s beautiful.”
Lily stepped back just enough to smooth the fabric along her sides. “Their Majesty had it made for you,” she said gently.
Wanda stilled.
“…Y/N did?”
Lily nodded. “They gave very specific instructions.”
Wanda’s lips curved slowly. Her hand moved instinctively to her stomach, smoothing over the fabric there.
“They made sure it wouldn’t be tight,” Lily added softly. “And that you would be comfortable sitting for long periods.”
Wanda let out a quiet, fond breath.
“That sounds like them.”
Lily smiled.
Wanda looked at herself in the mirror again. The gown. The softness of it. The way it fit her now—not who she used to be, but who she was becoming.
Her fingers traced the edge of the fabric lightly. “They didn’t have to do all this,” she murmured.
Lily met her gaze through the reflection.
“They wanted to.”
Wanda’s expression softened.
Yes.
They did.
She could see it in every detail.
Every stitch. Every choice.
Her hand rested more firmly over her stomach.
“…They’re trying to make today perfect,” she said quietly.
Lily stepped closer, adjusting a final strand of Wanda’s hair.
“I believe,” she said gently, “they already have.”
Wanda smiled. Then took a breath.
“…Are we ready?”
Lily stepped back fully now, giving her a small nod.
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
Wanda glanced at herself one last time—then turned.
Ready to see what Y/N had been planning. Ready—for whatever came next.
A soft knock echoed through the chamber.
Wanda turned slightly—and the door opened.
Y/N stepped in.
And for a moment—Wanda forgot to breathe.
They looked… stunning.
Dressed simply, but perfectly—everything fitted just right, clean lines, dark tones that made their presence feel steady, commanding without trying. Their hair was slightly tousled, like they hadn’t cared enough to fix it completely, and it only made them look better.
Wanda’s eyes moved slowly—taking them in from head to toe. Unapologetically. Lingering. And in her mind—brief, quiet flashes of later. Of when they would be alone again.
Her lips curved faintly. Then her gaze lifted—meeting theirs.
Y/N was already looking at her. Smiling. A little breathless in a way they tried to hide.
“Well,” they said quietly, stepping further into the room, their eyes trailing over her just the same, “that’s unfair.”
Wanda raised a brow.
“Unfair?”
Y/N nodded, stopping just in front of her.
“You weren’t supposed to make me want to cancel everything I planned tonight.”
Wanda laughed softly.
“I didn’t plan this.”
“No,” Y/N said, voice lowering slightly, “I did.”
Their hand lifted, hovering for just a moment before gently brushing along her arm, down to her hand.
“…You look beautiful.”
Wanda’s expression softened instantly.
“So do you.”
Y/N hummed quietly, but their thumb brushed over her knuckles.
“Ready?” they asked.
Wanda nodded. But didn’t move. Her eyes lingered on them for just a second longer—warm. Full of love. Then—she stepped closer. Close enough that her voice dropped just slightly.
“Try not to ruin your plans tonight,” she murmured.
Y/N blinked once.
“…That sounds like a threat.”
Wanda smiled. “It might be.”
Y/N’s lips curved.
“…Noted.”
They offered their arm and Wanda took it.
The corridor felt different at night—warmer somehow, lit by soft candlelight that flickered along the stone walls as they walked side by side. Wanda’s hand rested lightly on Y/N’s arm, her fingers occasionally brushing their sleeve while they guided her through the quiet palace halls.
Y/N hadn’t said much the entire walk.
Unusual.
Wanda noticed immediately.
“You’re hiding something,” she murmured, glancing up at them.
Y/N kept their gaze forward for another second before answering, far too calmly, “…I have no idea what you mean.”
Wanda smiled. “You’re terrible at pretending.”
A soft huff escaped them. “I’m trying.”
“That’s the problem.”
For a moment, silence settled between them again before the corner of Y/N’s mouth finally curved upward.
“…Just wait.”
Wanda didn’t press any further.
But her curiosity only grew.
As they turned the final corner, warm light spilled into the corridor ahead of them.
Then the doors opened.
The hall had been transformed—not into something grand or overwhelming, but something beautiful in a quieter, more thoughtful way. Soft lights hung across the room while candles glowed along the tables, flowers arranged simply but carefully, every detail intentional rather than extravagant.
Voices filled the space almost immediately. Familiar ones.
The knights were there. The servants too. People smiling not because duty demanded it, but because they genuinely wanted to.
“Your Majesties,” several greeted warmly as they entered, bowing their heads.
“Happy birthday, Your Majesty,” others added, softer now, more personal.
Wanda stilled for just a moment, quietly taking everything in.
Beside her, Y/N’s hand shifted lightly against the small of her back.
“…Do you like it?” they asked in a lower voice.
Wanda turned to look at them, and her expression softened instantly.
“I love it.”
Something subtle eased from Y/N at that—a quiet exhale, almost relieved.
Good.
Because this was exactly what they had wanted for her. Not a spectacle. Not something loud or extravagant.
Just something that felt like them.
“Wanda!”
Lina’s voice cut through the room instantly as the little girl rushed forward, stopping herself at the last second before colliding into her. Clearly remembering she wasn’t supposed to.
“You look so pretty!” Lina said brightly, practically glowing herself.
Wanda laughed softly. “Thank you.”
Lina immediately turned toward Y/N. “You too.”
Y/N gave a solemn nod. “High praise.”
That earned an immediate grin from Lina.
By then, soft music had begun drifting through the hall, gentle enough to fill the silence without overwhelming it. Around them, people slowly relaxed into conversation, laughter rising here and there as the celebration settled into something warm and easy.
And for a moment, Wanda simply stood there taking it all in.
The lights. The voices. The people she loved gathered around her.
Then her hand found Y/N’s.
She squeezed gently. “…You did this.”
Y/N glanced at her. “…We did this.”
Wanda shook her head, smiling softly. “No.”
Her gaze warmed even more as she looked at them.
“You did.”
This time, Y/N didn’t argue.
Because maybe, just this once, they wanted to take the credit.
For her.
They stayed close for the rest of the evening, moving through the room together with an ease that felt natural now. Greeting people. Laughing softly at quiet conversations. Pausing here and there while music drifted warmly through the hall around them.
And every so often, Wanda would catch Y/N looking at her.
Never for too long.
Just a second longer than necessary. Like they were checking. Making sure she was happy. Making sure all of this had been worth it.
And every single time, Wanda smiled when their eyes met.
Because she was.
---
Later, Lina disappeared for only a moment before hurrying back again, this time slower, more careful, a small box clutched tightly in both hands.
“Wanda,” she said a little breathlessly as she stopped in front of her, holding it up carefully. “This is for you.”
Wanda blinked in surprise before her expression immediately softened. “For me?”
Lina nodded eagerly. “It’s your birthday.”
Something warm melted across Wanda’s face at that. She crouched slightly to Lina’s level first, pulling her into a gentle hug.
“Thank you,” she murmured, kissing the top of her hair softly.
Lina hugged her back just as tightly before Wanda finally pulled away enough to smile at her. “Can I open it?”
“Yes!” Lina answered instantly.
Wanda accepted the box carefully, handling it like it was something precious. Y/N stepped a little closer beside her, their hand naturally settling against the small of Wanda’s back while a few nearby guests watched with quiet curiosity.
Inside was something simple.
Handmade.
A small woven bracelet, slightly uneven in places, colorful threads twisted together with a tiny charm tied carefully at the center.
Wanda went completely still.
Her fingers brushed lightly across it as she looked back up at Lina. “…You made this?”
Lina nodded, suddenly shy now that it was open. “I asked for help,” she admitted quietly. “But I did most of it.”
Wanda’s eyes shone almost immediately.
“It’s beautiful.”
Lina’s entire face lit up. “Really?”
“Really,” Wanda said without hesitation, warm and certain.
And before anyone could say anything else, she slipped it onto her wrist.
“It’s perfect.”
Lina beamed so brightly it nearly made Y/N smile wider too. They reached over and gently ruffled her hair.
“Well done,” they said quietly.
Lina grinned even harder.
Then Y/N glanced toward Wanda again, expression softer now beneath their usual composure. “…Why don’t we open the others too?”
Wanda smiled. “Now?”
Y/N nodded once. “Before Lina explodes from excitement.”
“I will not explode,” Lina argued immediately.
Y/N raised a brow. “…We’ll see.”
That finally made Wanda laugh softly. “Alright.”
---
They moved to sit together near the center of the hall, though slightly apart from the larger crowd. Nothing formal. No throne waiting for them.
Just chairs placed close together in the warm candlelight.
Servants began bringing over the gifts one by one, arranging them carefully nearby. There were far more than Wanda expected—different sizes, different wrapping, some simple and others elaborate.
She blinked softly at the growing pile. “…There’s a lot.”
Beside her, Y/N rested one arm along the back of her chair, relaxed. “There’s more.”
Wanda turned toward them. “More?”
Y/N nodded once. “In our chambers.” A brief pause followed before they added casually, “And more back in the capital.”
Wanda let out a quiet breath, already overwhelmed. “You didn’t have to—”
Before Wanda could respond, Y/N reached for one of the boxes nearby. This one, though, they held a little longer before finally handing it over.
“…This one first.”
Wanda looked down at it, then back at them. “…From you?”
Y/N nodded once.
Her hands became noticeably more careful as she took it, slower now, like it carried more weight than the others.
Because it did.
The room seemed quieter somehow as Wanda opened the box. Inside wasn’t jewelry or anything extravagant, but something far more personal.
A small handmade book.
Wanda blinked softly, fingers brushing over the worn leather cover. It felt intentionally aged, the pages uneven enough to show it had been assembled by hand.
“…What is it?” she asked quietly.
Y/N shifted slightly beside her, suddenly looking far less composed than before. “Open it.”
Wanda did.
The first page held a simple sketch of the northern palace. The lines weren’t perfect, but it was unmistakable. Familiar.
She turned the page.
The garden.
The tree she’d been sitting beneath earlier that day.
Another page showed the village they’d visited together.
Then she stopped completely.
A sketch of her.
Simple. Not detailed. But undeniably her—sitting quietly with one hand resting over her stomach.
Wanda’s breath caught softly.
“…Y/N…”
Beside her, Y/N rubbed the back of their neck almost shyly. “I asked someone to help bind it,” they admitted. “But the rest… I did.”
Wanda looked at them fully now. “You made this?”
A small nod.
“…I wanted you to have something from here,” they said quietly. “Something we could keep adding to.”
Her fingers traced lightly across the page.
“Our life,” Y/N added softly.
Not grand gestures. Not ceremonies or politics.
Just moments.
Wanda closed the book carefully and held it against her chest for a second before leaning forward to kiss them.
Slowly.
Deeply.
Like she was pouring every unspoken feeling into it.
When she pulled away, her forehead rested against theirs.
“I love it,” she whispered.
Y/N exhaled quietly, relief slipping through at last. “…Good.”
Wanda smiled, slipping her hand into theirs.
And suddenly the gift no longer felt like something finished.
It felt like the beginning of something they would continue building together.
The moment lingered a little longer—Wanda still holding the handmade book close, Y/N’s hand still intertwined with hers—before the gentle rhythm of the celebration slowly returned around them.
Voices filled the hall again. Movement. Warmth.
Carefully, Wanda set the book beside her rather than farther away, like she couldn’t quite bear losing contact with it yet.
Then Nat stepped forward.
No wrapping paper. No ornate box.
Just her.
Wanda blinked softly, tilting her head. “…Nat?”
Nat stopped in front of her, posture as straight and composed as ever, though something about her expression felt different tonight. Softer somehow beneath the control she always carried so carefully.
“I did not bring something elaborate,” she said quietly.
Wanda smiled faintly. “You didn’t have to bring anything.”
Nat shook her head once. “I wanted to.”
After a brief pause, she reached to her side and drew something free.
A dagger.
Not a ceremonial one. Not something decorative meant only for display. This one was smaller, refined, the polished blade catching softly in the candlelight while delicate engravings traced the hilt.
Wanda’s eyes widened slightly.
Nat held it out carefully—not like a weapon.
Like trust.
“This was mine,” she said. “From before.”
Wanda looked from the dagger back to her.
“I carried it when I first became a knight,” Nat continued quietly. “It kept me alive.”
A hush settled briefly around them.
Wanda accepted it slowly, fingers curling carefully around the hilt. It felt balanced. Familiar. Real.
“…Nat…”
“I want you to have it,” Nat said before she could continue. “Not because I think you’ll need to use it.” A slight pause. “But because you should never feel unprotected.”
Wanda’s grip tightened faintly.
Her expression softened immediately.
“You’re here,” she said quietly.
“I am.”
“Then I’m already protected.”
Nat didn’t answer that.
But something shifted in her face all the same.
Wanda stood just enough to lean forward and hug her.
Nat froze for half a heartbeat before carefully returning it—brief and restrained, but genuine in a way that mattered far more.
“Thank you,” Wanda murmured softly.
Nat nodded once as they pulled apart. “You’re welcome, Your Majesty.”
That earned her a look from Wanda.
And for the briefest second, Nat almost smiled.
Just like that, another quiet piece of the evening settled perfectly into place.
The atmosphere softened again as Nat stepped quietly back into place.
Wanda held the dagger carefully for another moment before setting it beside the other gifts, her fingers lingering briefly over the hilt like she understood exactly what it meant for Nat to hand it over.
Y/N watched her for a second before reaching for another box.
“This one,” they said, offering it to her, “is from Pietro.”
Wanda’s expression changed immediately—warmth flickering across her face alongside the faint ache that always came whenever her brother was mentioned.
“…You have it?” she asked softly.
Y/N nodded once. “It arrived before we left the capital.”
Wanda accepted it carefully, slower than she had taken the others. Her fingertips brushed lightly over the wrapping before she finally opened it.
Inside was a pair of riding boots. Fine leather. Soft but durable, practical in design with delicate etched details running subtly along the sides. Sokovian patterns.
Wanda exhaled quietly the moment she recognized them.
A folded note rested inside the box. She picked it up carefully, unfolding it with a small smile already forming before she even began reading.
“He says,” she read softly, “‘that since I insist on living so far away, I should at least not forget how to ride properly.’”
Y/N chuckles.
Wanda laughed under her breath, fingers brushing gently over the boots again.
“He also says…” Her voice softened further as she continued reading. “‘That he expects to see me wearing them when he visits. And if I don’t, he’ll be offended.’”
Y/N smirked faintly. “Then I suppose you don’t really have a choice.”
“…No,” Wanda admitted with another quiet laugh.
For a moment, she pressed the note lightly against her chest before folding it again with careful hands.
“I miss him,” she said softly.
Y/N’s hand found hers immediately.
“I know.”
The gentle squeeze grounded her instantly.
Wanda nodded once, then looked back down at the boots and smiled again.
Y/N reached for another box, their expression quieter this time as they handed it over.
“This one is from your parents. Your mom left with before she departed to Sokovia.”
Wanda looked up immediately, something soft and deeply fond settling across her face before she accepted it carefully with both hands.
Inside was fabric.
Rich. Familiar.
Wanda lifted it slowly, breath catching almost at once.
A shawl.
Deep crimson with intricate Sokovian embroidery woven in fine gold thread along the edges—delicate, elegant, unmistakably royal.
“…This is from home,” she whispered.
Y/N watched her closely while Wanda found the second item tucked beneath it.
A letter.
She unfolded it carefully, her eyes moving across the page as her expression softened more and more with every line.
“They send their love,” she murmured, smiling faintly. “My mother says I should rest more.”
Y/N let out a quiet huff. “I agree with her.”
Wanda laughed softly under her breath before pulling the shawl closer around herself, holding it like something grounding, something familiar enough to bridge the distance between here and home.
Beside her, Y/N’s hand rested gently against her back.
“Good?” they asked softly.
Wanda looked at them, eyes warm and full in a way words couldn’t quite capture.
“Perfect.”
And surrounded by the people she loved—both beside her and far away—it truly was.
---
The night had quieted.
The laughter had faded into soft echoes down the halls, the last of the candles burning low as servants finished clearing what remained of the celebration.
Their chambers were warm. Just the two of them.
Wanda stood near the window for a moment, the shawl from her parents draped loosely around her shoulders, the bracelet still on her wrist, the book resting carefully on the table nearby.
She exhaled softly. Then turned.
Y/N was there—removing their jacket, slower now, the energy from earlier replaced with something calmer. Softer.
Wanda watched them for a second.
Then crossed the room.
Without a word, she stepped close—close enough that Y/N barely had time to react before her arms slipped around them.
Y/N relaxed immediately, their arms wrapping around her just as easily. “…Hey,” they murmured.
Wanda buried her face against their shoulder. “Thank you.”
Y/N’s hand moved up her back, slow, grounding. “You don’t have to thank me,” they said softly.
“I do,” Wanda replied, pulling back just enough to look at them.
Her eyes were warm. Bright.
“You made today… perfect.”
Y/N’s expression softened. “It was just a small—”
“It wasn’t,” she interrupted gently. Her hand came up, resting against their cheek. “It was everything.”
A small pause.
Then, softer—
“I love you.”
Y/N didn’t answer right away. Not with words. Their hand slid to the back of her neck, pulling her in just enough to kiss her—slow, steady, like they meant it with everything they had.
When they pulled back, their forehead rested against hers.
“…I love you too.”
Wanda smiled.
Then—something shifted.
Subtle.
Her gaze changed just slightly.
Warmer.
A little mischievous.
“…Do you remember what you promised me this morning?” she asked quietly.
Y/N’s lips curved immediately. A slow, knowing smirk. “…Absolutely.”
Wanda’s smile matched it. Then she stepped closer—and kissed them.
Harder this time. Hungry.
Like she had been waiting all day.
Y/N didn’t hesitate. Their hands found her instantly, pulling her closer as they kissed her back just as deeply.
And just like that—the rest of the world disappeared.
---
Few Days Later
Y/N’s POV
The week in the northern palace passed faster than any of them expected.
What had started as a quiet retreat slowly became something more—days filled with lingering moments, peaceful walks through the hills, slow mornings tangled in warmth, and evenings ending in soft laughter beneath candlelight.
And now it was time to leave.
The courtyard had already come alive with movement by early morning. Servants crossed back and forth carrying trunks toward the carriages while the horses shifted impatiently in the cold air, their breath visible in pale clouds.
Near the front of the procession, Y/N stood reviewing the final preparations with practiced calm.
“Everything secured?” they asked.
“Yes, Your Majesty,” one of the guards answered immediately.
Y/N nodded once, scanning the courtyard out of habit more than concern before finally turning back.
Wanda stood several steps away with Lina beside her, one hand resting unconsciously over her stomach again. Her gaze drifted over the palace behind them—the stone walls, the quiet windows, the gardens just beyond.
A small breath escaped her.
Y/N noticed immediately.
They crossed the distance without hesitation, settling a gentle hand against the small of her back.
“…You alright?”
Wanda nodded softly. “Just… looking.”
Y/N followed her gaze for a moment before answering quietly, “…We’ll come back.”
A faint smile touched her lips. “I know.”
Beside them, Lina shifted from foot to foot, clearly unhappy.
“I don’t want to leave,” she admitted quietly.
Y/N glanced down at her before crouching slightly to meet her eyes. “Of course you don’t.”
“I like it here.”
“We’ll come again,” Y/N promised.
Lina studied them carefully. “Promise?”
“Promise.”
That seemed to ease something in her, even if only a little.
Footsteps approached behind them.
“Your Majesty.”
Y/N looked up to find Happy already dressed for travel, standing straighter than usual though something lighter rested in his expression now.
“You’re coming with us,” Y/N said simply.
It wasn’t phrased like a question.
Happy inclined his head. “As agreed.”
“Good.” A brief pause followed before Y/N added more quietly, “…The capital could use you.”
Happy’s expression softened slightly. “And I will serve where I am needed.”
Y/N held his gaze for another second before nodding once more.
“Ready,” Ser Wilson called from near the horses.
Nearby, Nat sat already mounted, composed and alert as always, her sharp attention never fully leaving the surroundings.
Y/N inhaled slowly, then turned back toward Wanda and offered her an arm.
“Come.”
Wanda took it easily.
Lina climbed eagerly into the carriage with help, immediately peeking back out the window despite her earlier sadness. Y/N helped Wanda up more carefully, steady hands focused entirely on her until she was settled comfortably inside before climbing in after her.
The carriage door closed.
A signal was given.
The horses began to move.
And just like that, the northern palace slowly started to disappear behind them.
Wanda looked back only once.
Just once.
Then she turned forward again—toward the road stretching ahead, toward the capital, toward the life waiting for them there.
Beside her, Y/N’s hand found hers and squeezed gently.
And this time, she didn’t look back again.
---
The journey back had been long and quiet, and by the time the carriages finally rolled through the palace gates, night had already settled over the capital.
Torches flickered warmly across the courtyard while guards stood at attention as the wheels slowed to a stop.
Inside the carriage, both Wanda and Lina had fallen asleep.
Lina was curled awkwardly against one side, peaceful despite the uncomfortable position. Wanda rested against Y/N’s shoulder, breathing softly, one hand still settled protectively over her stomach even in sleep.
Y/N didn’t move immediately. They just looked at them for a moment.
Then the carriage door opened.
“Your Majesty.”
Ser Barnes stood outside with Ser Rogers beside him.
Y/N nodded once. “They’re asleep.”
Rogers stepped forward first, instinctively lowering his voice. “I’ll take the princess.”
Carefully, Y/N shifted just enough for Rogers to gently lift Lina into his arms. She stirred faintly but didn’t wake.
“Careful,” Y/N murmured automatically.
“Always,” Rogers replied.
Then Y/N turned back toward Wanda.
Slowly and carefully, they slipped one arm beneath her knees and the other around her back, lifting her effortlessly into their arms. Wanda barely reacted beyond unconsciously leaning closer, her face brushing softly against their shoulder.
Y/N’s expression softened immediately.
“…Got you,” they murmured quietly.
As they stepped out into the courtyard, Barnes moved alongside them. “We can go over everything tonight if you—”
“Tomorrow,” Y/N interrupted gently while adjusting their hold on Wanda.
Barnes paused, then nodded. “Tomorrow.”
Y/N inclined their head slightly before their gaze flicked briefly toward Ser Romanoff standing nearby—watching, composed as always.
Then back to Barnes.
A slow grin tugged faintly at Y/N’s mouth as they leaned closer while passing him.
“…Why don’t you check on a certain knight first?” they murmured under their breath.
Barnes froze for exactly half a second before the tips of his ears turned faintly red.
Y/N didn’t wait for an answer.
They were already walking away with Wanda secure in their arms while Rogers carried Lina carefully inside behind them.
Barnes remained standing there another moment longer before, very casually, his eyes drifted toward Romanoff.
Nat didn’t look directly at him.
But she didn’t move away either.
Inside the palace, the halls were quiet and dimly lit, familiar in a way that settled something deep in Y/N’s chest. They walked carefully through the corridors, steady and unhurried, never loosening their hold on Wanda.
When they reached their chambers, Y/N nudged the door open easily and stepped inside.
Stillness greeted them.
Warmth.
Home.
They crossed to the bed and lowered Wanda carefully onto the mattress, hands lingering briefly to make sure she was comfortable before pulling away.
Wanda stirred faintly at the movement.
“…Y/N…” she murmured sleepily.
“I’m here,” they answered softly at once.
Her breathing settled again almost immediately.
Y/N brushed a loose strand of hair gently from her face before leaning down to press a soft kiss against her forehead.
And for the first time since returning to the capital, they finally let themselves breathe.
Because they were home.
---
Wanda’s POV
The room was quiet when Wanda finally stirred awake.
Soft morning light filtered through the curtains, spilling gently across the bed where she lay alone. For a moment, she stayed still, eyes only half-open as her hand instinctively drifted to her stomach.
Warm. Familiar.
Then came a soft knock at the door.
“Your Majesty?”
Lily.
Wanda exhaled quietly. “Come in.”
The door opened carefully and Lily stepped inside with her usual quiet grace, dipping her head politely. “Good morning, Your Majesty.”
“Good morning, Lily,” Wanda replied softly as she pushed herself upright, blankets sliding around her.
Lily crossed the room to adjust the curtains, letting a little more morning light spill inside. “Did you sleep well?”
“I did. Thank you.”
Wanda’s gaze drifted briefly around the room before settling back on her again.
“…Where is Y/N?”
Lily paused only slightly before answering calmly. “Their Majesty is with Ser Barnes, receiving updates after your absence.”
Wanda nodded faintly.
Of course.
Work never truly waited in the capital.
Still, Lily smiled softly as she added, “They said they would return for breakfast with you.”
A quiet breath left her as something soft settled in her chest. “Alright.”
“Shall I prepare your bath?” Lily asked gently.
Wanda glanced once more toward the brightening window before nodding. “Yes.”
Lily moved quietly through the chamber, already preparing everything while Wanda remained seated at the edge of the bed, slowly waking into the morning.
The capital palace felt different from the northern one.
Larger. Busier.
Even now, there was a faint hum somewhere beyond the walls—a reminder that life here never truly slowed down.
But inside the chamber, everything remained calm.
Still.
Wanda rested her hand over her stomach again, thumb brushing lightly across the fabric of her nightdress.
“…Good morning,” she murmured softly beneath her breath.
As though answering her, a faint movement fluttered beneath her palm.
Small.
But there.
Wanda smiled instantly, her shoulders relaxing. “You’re awake too,” she whispered.
Another gentle flutter followed, weaker than before but enough to make her smile deepen.
The sound of water pouring softly nearby eventually pulled her attention back. Steam had already begun rising from the bath while the scent of oils slowly filled the room—warm, calming, familiar.
“Would you like help, Your Majesty?” Lily asked.
Wanda nodded as she stood carefully. “Yes.”
Lily stepped closer, helping her out of her nightdress before guiding her toward the bath chamber. Warmth wrapped around Wanda immediately as she stepped into the water, tension leaving her body almost at once.
Beside her, Lily worked quietly, adding oils before moving behind her to gently massage her shoulders.
The exhaustion from the journey, from the long week away, slowly melted under careful hands.
Wanda closed her eyes. Just breathing. Just existing in the quiet.
“…You may rest your hands there,” Lily said softly, guiding her hands toward her stomach.
Wanda obeyed instinctively, palms settling protectively over the curve of her bump.
Warm.
Safe.
Lily’s hands moved slowly along her shoulders and back, never pressing too firmly, always careful.
“You should not overexert yourself today,” Lily added gently.
A faint smile touched Wanda’s lips, eyes still closed. “I’ll try.”
“You have to do more than try, You Majesty.”
Wanda let out a quiet huff of amusement. “That sounds like something Y/N would say.”
Lily smiled softly. “They are very attentive.”
Wanda opened her eyes slightly at that.
“They are.”
There was no hesitation in her voice. Only certainty.
After a while, Lily helped Wanda out of the bath, wrapping her carefully in soft fabric before drying her off and guiding her back into the main chamber.
Fresh clothes had already been laid out—light, comfortable, chosen carefully so nothing pressed too tightly against her stomach. Wanda dressed slowly while Lily adjusted the fabric where needed, smoothing everything into place with practiced care.
When it was done, Wanda stood in front of the mirror for a quiet moment.
Just looking.
At herself. At the subtle changes in her body. At the life growing beneath her hands.
Then the chamber door opened without a knock.
Wanda smiled faintly before even turning around. “…You’re late.”
“I said I’d be back for breakfast.”
She turned then, smile lingering as Y/N stepped fully into the room like they hadn’t even paused outside the door. Their eyes found her immediately and stayed there.
“…You’re staring,” Wanda said, amused.
“I am,” Y/N answered easily as they crossed the room toward her, gaze traveling slowly over her.
“Problem?”
“Yeah.” A small pause. “I’m supposed to focus on work today.”
Wanda laughed softly. “That sounds like your problem.”
“It is.”
They stopped directly in front of her, fingers brushing lightly along her arm before settling naturally at her waist.
“You look good,” they murmured.
Her expression softened instantly. “So do you.”
Almost automatically, Y/N’s hand slipped down to rest over her stomach.
“…Morning,” they murmured quietly.
A second later, a faint movement fluttered beneath their palm.
Y/N smiled immediately. “Did you miss Papa?”
Another small flutter answered them.
A pleased huff escaped Y/N at once. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
Wanda laughed gently, covering their hand with hers. “You’ve been gone for, what, an hour?”
“Long enough.”
Their thumb traced slow circles over her stomach while the softness in their expression remained completely unhidden now.
“Next time I’ll bring you with me,” they said quietly. “Meet everyone early.”
Wanda shook her head, amused. “They’re not even here yet.”
“Planning ahead.”
She watched them for another moment before smiling more softly. “They’ll be just as attached to you as you are to them.”
Y/N glanced up at her, something uncertain flickering briefly behind their eyes. “…You think?”
“I know.”
They held her gaze for a second, searching it, before some quieter tension eased from their expression.
“…Good,” they murmured.
Their hand remained against her stomach a little longer, thumb brushing gently like the contact itself grounded them.
Then, more quietly, “I don’t want them to ever feel like they have to reach for me.”
“I do,” she replied steadily. “Because you’re already there.” Her fingers tightened softly around theirs. “They won’t have to reach. You’ll be right beside them.”
Y/N looked down briefly at her stomach before meeting her eyes again. “…I’ll try.”
Wanda smiled faintly and shook her head. “You don’t have to try.”
One brow lifted. “No?”
“You just have to be you.”
Y/N huffed softly. “…And what is that?”
Wanda didn’t answer right away.
She simply looked at them fully before lifting her hand to brush her fingers gently along their cheek.
“Someone who stays,” she said quietly.
Y/N went still.
“Someone who listens, even when nobody says anything.” Her thumb traced softly against their skin. “And someone who cares too much.”
A faint huff escaped them. “That sounds exhausting.”
Wanda laughed quietly. “It is.”
Then, softer, “But it’s also why I love you.”
This time Y/N didn’t joke or look away.
Their hand only tightened slightly around hers.
“…You make it sound easy.”
“It’s not,” Wanda said gently after a brief pause. “But it’s you.”
Something shifted in Y/N’s expression then—quieter, steadier somehow.
Their thumb brushed slowly across her knuckles.
“…Alright,” they murmured.
Wanda smiled before leaning in to press a soft kiss against their lips.
“Let’s eat,” she whispered.
---
They settled into breakfast slowly, the quiet of the morning wrapping around them. Sunlight filled the room, soft and warm. Y/N stayed close, as always—pouring her tea first, making sure her plate was filled before touching their own.
Wanda noticed.
“You’re doing it again,” she said lightly.
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“You do.”
“I’m being efficient.”
“You’re hovering.”
Y/N glanced at her. “…Yes.”
Wanda laughed softly.
They ate unhurriedly, talking between bites.
“What do you have today?” Wanda asked.
“Meetings,” Y/N said. “Reports. There are still things to fix.”
Wanda nodded. “I don’t want you to go back right away,” she admitted quietly.
Y/N looked at her, expression softening. “…I know, my love. But I’m not going yet.”
Wanda tilted her head. “No?”
Y/N’s lips curved faintly. “I have something else for you.”
Wanda blinked. “…Another surprise? You already gave me one.”
“I know.”
“That was enough.”
“I disagree.”
Wanda laughed.
---
After breakfast, Y/N stood and offered Wanda their hand.
“Come on.”
Wanda took it easily, letting them guide her through a quieter corridor within their wing of the palace, one she realized she’d barely noticed before.
“…We don’t usually come here,” she murmured.
“Not yet,” Y/N replied.
They stopped at a door and opened it.
Wanda stepped inside—and immediately stilled.
The room was entirely new. Renovated. Sunlight streamed through tall windows while empty shelves lined the walls, waiting to be filled. A large desk sat near the light, thoughtfully placed, surrounded by comfortable seating and open space designed for quiet work and reflection.
A room meant for presence.
“…What is this?” Wanda asked softly.
Y/N stepped in behind her. “…I wanted to give you my mother’s study.”
Wanda turned slightly toward them. “But she never had one.”
A quiet pause followed as Y/N’s gaze drifted around the room.
“My father never allowed her a voice in matters of the kingdom,” they said quietly. “He never gave her space to be part of it.” Their eyes lowered briefly before lifting back to Wanda again. “But she still tried. She always tried.”
Silence settled softly between them.
“I won’t repeat that,” Y/N continued, voice steady now. Certain. “You are my queen, Wanda. Not just in title.”
They stepped closer.
“You make me stronger. Wiser. Better.” Their hand found hers naturally. “I want you beside me in every way that matters.”
A small pause.
“This is your study.”
Wanda looked around the room again, but this time differently. Not just seeing it anymore. Understanding it. Feeling what it meant. “…You did this for me,” she whispered.
Y/N didn’t deny it.
Instead, Wanda stepped forward and wrapped her arms around them. Y/N held her immediately, close and grounding, like they’d been waiting for her to do it.
“I love it,” she murmured against them.
Y/N rested their cheek lightly against her hair and exhaled softly. “…Really?”
Wanda pulled back just enough to look at them properly. “Really.”
Her fingers brushed gently along their jaw. “It’s not just the room,” she said softly. “It’s what it means.”
Y/N held her gaze quietly while she smiled faintly.
“You didn’t just give me a place to work,” Wanda continued. “You gave me a place beside you.”
Something in Y/N’s expression shifted at that—quieter, more vulnerable than they usually allowed anyone to see. “That’s where you were always meant to be,” they said softly.
Wanda’s eyes warmed immediately. “I know.”
After another moment, her attention drifted back around the room, excitement beginning to slip through her expression now.
“I can put books here,” she said, gesturing lightly toward one side. “And letters—maybe a writing desk near the window…”
Y/N watched her fondly.
Wanda turn slipping her arms around them again and leaned in and kissed them softly, lingering just long enough to leave warmth behind when she finally pulled away, forehead resting gently against theirs.
“Thank you,” she whispered again.
Y/N’s thumb brushed lightly along her side. “…You’re welcome.”
A comfortable silence settled between them after that—warm and full in the way only home could feel.
Then Y/N sighed quietly. “I really do have to work now.”
Wanda groaned softly. “I knew this was coming.”
That earned a faint smile from them. “I won’t be long.”
She narrowed her eyes immediately. “You always say that.”
“…This time I mean it.”
Wanda finally stepped back, though her fingers lingered in theirs a second longer. “Fine. But you’re coming back to me.”
Y/N squeezed her hand gently. “Always.”
And this time, it didn’t sound like a promise. It sounded like a fact.
