#cd: bas | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

spookyserenades · 2 years ago

Text

Trouvaille - Chapter Nine

Pairing(s); BTS OT7 x Reader

Genre/Themes; Hybrid!AU, themes of the supernatural and the occult, religious themes, violence, hurt/comfort, horror, romance

Rated; 18+ for swearing, violence/gore, future sexual themes. Reader discretion is advised.

Word Count; 21.8k

Trouvaille Masterlist

Trouvaille playlist

Updates on the 7th of each month

Dana here! Hope you all had a lovely summer, and are excited for the autumn months. Welcome to Chapter Nine! A fairly fluffy update, I hope you all enjoy. Just a bit of spookiness at the end, and a fair bit of witchiness going on on in this chapter. As always, I love to hear your thoughts and feedback, and thank you for reading Trouvaille! Stay tuned for the October Samhain update ;)

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

“Y/N! Right on time, dear, come on in,” Judy exclaimed as soon as the rattling witch bells on the door to her shop clattered against the glass with Y/N’s arrival.

The shop was hazy, filled with syrupy palo santo smoke, and the CD player was already pulsing hypnotic Enya through the speakers. Eyes adjusting to the dim lighting, Y/N headed towards the back of the shop while dodging the crowded tables of inventory, where Judy was poking her frizzy head of hair out from behind the beaded curtains to the reading rooms. Y/N deposited her tote bag and lunch on the counter behind the register, hurrying after Judy who had disappeared into the recesses of the reading rooms.

“Good morning, Judy, how have you been?” Y/N cheerily greeted the older woman, who was sorting through a large piece of furniture with many drawers in the smallest room closest to the back of the building. The darkened room was filled with candlelight, at least thirty different potted plants, a low table littered with crystals and two round cushions to sit on.

“Just fine, just fine…” Judy replied distractedly, Y/N unsure as to what she should be doing. She didn’t even know when the shop was going to be open for business, let alone what her responsibilities for the day were yet. Judy made a noise of triumph, locating something she was fishing around for in a deep drawer with a grin on her sun-weathered face. “So, Y/N. I hope you don’t mind, but every time I hire someone new, I like to do a little reading on them beforehand. Think of it as a free psychic check-in.”

Judy lithely positioned herself on one of the cushions, using one hand to gesture towards the free seat across from her, a deck of cards in the other. Card reading, Y/N thought– that’s what started the last disaster for her, and it had her stomach roiling with acid. It wasn’t like she could decline, however, so Y/N nodded politely, sinking into the lumpy cushion on the floor and twiddled her thumbs as Judy lit up yet another stick of palo santo to burn.

Twitching with nerves, Y/N observed Judy shuffle her ancient looking Tarot cards overhand, mentally demanding the clusters of clear quartz and amethyst on the table to protect her from a janky reading.

“How’s your mom? Haven’t seen her in a few weeks,” Judy asked conversationally, a couple of cards flying out of her grip and floating onto the table face-down.

“Oh, she’s well. Very busy with the book club lately, and when she isn’t busy with that, she’s been into oil painting recently,” Y/N blinked, wondering if the reading would be about family matters.

“Did she ever tell you about that reading we did for you last year?” Judy paused her shuffling, selecting a card carefully from the back as if it was on fire and placing it on the table, once again face-down.

Grimacing, Y/N shook her head. Y/N didn’t usually feel comfortable doing readings about other people when they weren’t aware of it, but her mother held no such opinion. In fact, for most of her life Y/N’s mother performed all kinds of readings for Y/N; career, love, success… Judy often helped out, since she was a more practiced card reader. Y/N assumed that her mother had finally listened to her and stopped going behind her back, as she had stopped telling her about readings a little over a year ago, but apparently she had been mistaken.

Judy was quiet for a few moments, selecting a few more cards seemingly at random, until there was a grand total of ten of them in front of her on the table, Judy finally sparing Y/N a kind, but mysterious smile.

“I know you’re not fond of her snooping around with the cards, she hasn’t been doing it lately, I assure you. Last August was the most recent reading we did for you. It was a love reading,” Judy informed her, brushing a curly lock of hair from her face. Grimace deepening, Y/N internally groaned– was it that depressing that her mom finally gave up on trying to find her someone to date?

“Oh… It’s probably best if I don't hear anything about it. My dating life is drier than the Sonoran Desert, especially over this past year,” Y/N chuckled weakly, Judy nodding in understandment.

“That’s quite alright, dear… relax, Y/N, this is just a basic reading,” Judy soothed, beginning to turn over the cards. They weren’t traditional Tarot, so Y/N was unable to cheat and read them herself, but the images on the cards were spellbinding and radiated a primordial energy.

Y/N focused on the Enya track playing from the front of the store, Judy staring at the cards and occasionally shutting her eyes as she read them. Judy had a very careful poker face, from years of practice and carrying out readings, so Y/N wasn’t able to glean anything from the psychic’s expression.

“There’s been a lot of change for you recently. Most of it good change,” Judy spoke at last, as Y/N began to fiddle with one of the quartz points on the table. “Definite conflict. Something uncomfortable happened on the full moon. There are many strong personalities around you right now, complicated people.”

“Yeah, that sounds about right,” Y/N’s breath whooshed out as she agreed, trying not to think about the ‘uncomfortable’ full moon event.

“This reading matches up with the one from last year. Seven different male energies. Two of them I met last week,” Judy murmured carefully, Y/N’s eyes going owlishly wide. Clearly, she was referring to Namjoon and Jeongguk, during their outing for ice cream and the music shop.

“I thought you said that reading was a love reading? I adopted seven male hybrids about a week ago,” Y/N furrowed her eyebrows. Never in the history of ever did she have seven men after her affection at once, especially a year ago, and her hybrids were companions, not her lovers.

Judy stared at her expectantly, brushing her fingertips over a couple of the cards. She pointed to two cards with confidence.

“Here, The Green Man and The Stag. They were with you that day, the latter bought those lovely red candles,” Judy tapped on the cards as she spoke, Y/N’s curiosity climbing with every word she spoke. “These men have been in your orbit for over a year. For whatever reason, the eight of you are all connected… I haven’t seen anything like this in a long time. Each of you is represented by a Major Arcana archetype.”

“You’re saying these adoptions I’ve made have been a year in the making?” Y/N whispered in bewilderment, thinking back to when she had broken the news of the adoptions to her mother. Now that she had this new insight, her mother’s reaction did seem a bit rehearsed– had she known about it all this time?

“I think it’s no coincidence that the cards are the same as they were back then. The energies are all the same, masculine, wild… a few of them darker, mysterious, others troubled, sad… Like I said, you are surrounded by complicated people. Or hybrids, as we now understand it,” Judy studied the cards, Y/N leaning over to take a better look at them herself.

The Seer, the most feminine card– was her, undoubtedly. The faint energy of the card she could detect felt familiar to her, like peering into a glassy lake and spotting her reflection. There was The Shaman, The Archer, The Hooded Man, The Guardian, and The Woodward, apart from the other two Judy had mentioned– The Green Man and The Stag. She could hardly guess who was who besides Namjoon and Jeongguk, as she was unfamiliar with that Tarot deck and she hadn’t practiced energy work in years; she hadn’t even attempted to get a good energy reading on herself lately, let alone any of her hybrids.

“I still don’t understand why it came up as a love reading last year. I hadn’t even met any of them yet, romance… that’s just–” Y/N began, rapidly shaking her head.

Sure, her hybrids were kind, affectionate, handsome, and she cared for them deeply already, but considering a romantic relationship with any of them was something she usually shut down within two seconds. She was more focused on getting to know them, establishing solid friendships, getting them involved with fun clubs and activities they enjoyed, and helping them work through some of their tricky pasts. Still, it was increasingly harder to deny that she wasn’t falling for a handful, if not all of them lately, and her attempts to push away the possibility of romance blooming between her and any of the hybrids had become harder and harder.

“I haven’t seen something like this in a long time,” Judy repeated lightly, a strange look on her face. “It’s almost like you’re soulmates…”

“How can one person possibly have seven soulmates,” Y/N started laughing in utter disbelief, praying the floor would open up and suck her into the pits of hell. Accepting this job was a terrible idea, now she was consumed with all kinds of inappropriate thoughts.

“Besides that, Y/N, there’s another element. You’ll be stepping into a period in your life where the spiritual realm is more important to you and your path than ever. Here, take this,” Judy offered her the guide book for the deck she was using, Y/N accepting it like it was a live pipe bomb. “Take a picture of this spread with your phone, and look it over later. You may find it enlightening.”

As Y/N did as she was told, Judy merrily carried on after the picture was taken and put the cards away, stubbing out the palo santo and standing. Y/N didn’t quite know how to process what she’d been told, but Judy acted like she had just read off of a phone book, leading her back out into the main shop and showing her the basics of operating the 1950’s register. Judy explained that she only had two readings that morning, then she’d have to pop out for the rest of the day to go to a crystal auction, so Y/N would have to lock up at 4PM. Her day seemed straightforward, simply ringing up any merchandise sales and answering basic questions (she had studied the packet of wares a bit before bed the past two nights, so at least she was prepared). Judy told her to expect it to be slow for a Monday, and encouraged her to get any reading done. Thankfully, she brought a random hybrid guidebook with her, so she was excited to get cracking on that.

Y/N was in her head a little bit for most of the morning; nobody came in to buy anything and only the scheduled reading appointments showed up, so Y/N was able to busy herself with plucking items off the shelves for the wards she’d place around the property the following week, as well as things she’d need for the banishment if it came to it. She also found a beautiful deck of Tarot cards, printed with earth tones and woodland creatures, thinking it might be a nice gift for Namjoon for his birthday, and was able to check herself out and move onto scrolling on her phone for a bit after Judy departed for the crystal auction.

Trying to put the card reading out of her mind, she decided to put all of her attention on tying up loose ends from her to-do list; starting with looking for clubs for the hybrids to join, preferably while she was at work. At the local rec center near her house, she found basketball, track, and swimming teams, fine arts, pottery and photography classes, even film and music clubs, all hybrid specific. There were a few other tabs she brought up; how to establish a paranormal investigation group, horse riding and boarding for beginners, and junkyards near me.

She had her first customer after lunch, which turned out to be a delicious Japanese-style egg salad sandwich, some chips in a plastic Ziploc bag, a string cheese, and a tangerine with a mini bottle of water, and she made sure to text Yoongi and thank him again– a selfie attached with a segment of tangerine between her fingertips.

Directing the customer to a shelf full of herbs that can be scooped by the store patrons themselves, pointing out where the mugwort was, Y/N hummed, feeling somewhat at home in the metaphysical shop, even after the mind-boggling reading she received from her new boss. Knowing that it would be a few days before she could delve deeper into the meaning of the reading, likely after Jeongguk’s birthday and in between her next piano lesson with Yoongi, Y/N pushed it into the further recesses of her mind. There was simply no space to entertain romance, as tempting as it was, at this point– that’s what she told herself, as she dove into the first chapter of Kodiak Bear Hybrids for Dummies.

The next few days were relatively mundane; Y/N had picked Namjoon and Seokjin up from the book club Monday evening with $195 worth of Greek food in her trunk, each of them sporting little smiles and beat-up copies of The Stranger. The weather was stormy on Tuesday and was made up of her practicing Twinkle Twinkle in the music room and reading in the parlor with the hybrids while they watched mindless superhero movies, before she returned to another slow day at work the next morning.

From there, Wednesday had her presenting the teams, classes, and clubs she had amassed in a big spreadsheet to the hybrids, which she printed and stuck to the fridge, telling them to think about it and mark down anything they’d be interested in. Come Thursday, Jeongguk’s birthday, nothing had been marked up at all, simultaneously dampening her spirits but also frustrating her with how stubborn her hybrids could be. For Christ’s sake, the activities were free, so long as they resided in the area with their adopted guardian, which had them covered. Y/N wasn’t going to let it get her down though– Judy had let her go at 3PM to prepare for Jeongguk’s birthday dinner, which had her practically vibrating as she arrived home and kicked off her shoes.

She planned to make the rice bowls that he had enjoyed so much closer to when she first adopted him, all of the prep already done with a little proactive measures she had taken in the weepingly early hours of the morning. Y/N hadn’t seen very much of Jeongguk in the past few days; true to his word he had been ‘gory as hell’ with his velvet shedding, and kept mostly to his room to contain the mess of the blood and flesh from getting all over the house.

“You want me to make some tamagoyaki to go with this?” Yoongi began picking up chopsticks she’d placed by a bowl of eggs, appearing out of thin air with his ears perked up in her direction. These days, Yoongi was her constant companion, making her lunch to take to work, presenting her with her coffee in the morning, and was clinging like glue, not to mention.

The leopard hybrid always materialized into the kitchen prior to dinner, and Y/N didn’t know whether or not it was an unspoken game to see who could make dinner first, but she didn’t complain. Especially when they often shared a wine glass, and he’d constantly put a hand on her lower back when navigating around the kitchen.

“Please, do. It was so good the last time,” Y/N encouraged, scraping her stir-fried veggies into a dish to be microwaved later. Yoongi nodded while rolling up the sleeves of his satiny black button down, getting to work. So far, it seemed like Seokjin and Namjoon had kept their promise of keeping the secret of Jeongguk’s birthday under wraps.

“So, what’s the occasion?” Yoongi commented while pouring beaten egg into the rectangle pan, his spotted tail winding around her thigh as she worked on the steak at the stove. “You seem more spirited than usual.”

“Hmm. Pass the glass,” Y/N covered the pan she was working on, an obscene amount of steak resting within. She had made more than enough rice for 20 people, trying to ensure Jeongguk had a pleasant birthday celebration with plenty of food. She’d even stopped on the way home from work for a rather large order of pork dumplings that were crispening up in the air fryer as an extra treat. After a beat, Yoongi handed over their shared glass of pinot grigio, skillfully rolling up a batch of tamagoyaki. “It’s Jeongguk’s birthday, I’m throwing him a little party between all of us.”

She whispered the latter part of her statement directly into Yoongi’s human set of ears, hoping that the elk hybrid stowed away in his room couldn’t hear. Yoongi, freezing for a moment before breaking out into laughter at her serious expression, placed his roll of tamagoyaki on a plate before beginning another helping of it.

“No shit. You’re full of surprises, sweetheart,” Yoongi managed over his chortling, Y/N rolling her eyes and leaving the leopard hybrid by the stove.

She didn’t go all out, no balloons, streamers or banners; but Y/N had her wrapped gifts for Jeongguk clumped together on the coffee bar, which she had stashed in the back of her car for two days and wrapped at work during her lunch break. She kept it simple; just his cheesecake, which was getting room temperature in the hardly used dining room and out of sight to bring out at the last moment (complete with candles), the gifts, and the meal she noted he enjoyed the most since she met the elk hybrid. Y/N had gone as far as picking up a small, foiled order of the baked ziti from Sal’s on the way home for Jeongguk along with the dumplings, the little boat already warming up in one of the ovens for him.

She felt like it was time, Yoongi had finished the tamagoyaki, and everything was practically in place. Seokjin, Hoseok, and Jimin were in the parlor watching Indiana Jones, and the remaining three hybrids were in their bedrooms, so all Y/N had to do was stand in the foyer and slightly raise her voice to call everyone to the kitchen. Despite Jeongguk’s graphic goriness with his velvet shedding, even making Y/N shudder with the blood, torn ligament, and loose flesh hanging from his antlers, the elk hybrid always appeared for dinner, and she was feeling giddy.

“Smells good! You two have worked hard, as always,” Hoseok commented while his slides slapped noisily against the tiled floor, strolling in from the entrance from the parlor, Seokjin and Jimin close behind. If anything, her hybrids loved to eat.

In the spirit of celebrating birthdays, Y/N popped open two chilled bottles of champagne to divide into eight glasses, smirking at the surprised sounds of the various hybrids coagulating in the kitchen and finding random seats. No one ever sat in the same spot, which was something she really found interesting.

Taehyung and Namjoon made their appearances at the same time, both of them with poorly masked disdain for one another painted across their faces, but Y/N refused to have her mood be dampened. The week was going by smoothly, the hybrids were adjusting, and she was focused on surprising Jeongguk. He was, after all, the last to enter the room.

While waiting for the elk hybrid, and listening to Seokjin trying to stave off some of the other hybrids from digging into the food before everyone was present, Y/N snuck into the dining room and brought the cheesecake out onto the island with a smug grin. Everything was set once she put the gifts around the cake, slightly ignoring some of the confused noises coming from Hoseok at the breakfast nook.

“Is it a holiday?” Hoseok finally vocalized, round cocoa eyes zeroing in on the cake and gift bags on the counter. At the same time, Y/N heard the heavy, stomping tread thundering down the main staircase, indicating Jeongguk’s arrival to the kitchen at any second. She shook her head, absently rummaging for matches in the drawer by the cake to light the candles after dinner.

“What the fuck is going on?” Jeongguk appeared in the threshold of the kitchen, his smoky voice agitated and suspicious, and a thick trail of blood smeared against his cheek– his antlers a crown of gore. Startled, Y/N felt the matchbook slip from her fingers and clatter to the granite countertop, taken off guard by his blood staining his face and cream colored tee shirt, his expression stormy and guarded.

“Oh! Uh…” suddenly at a loss for words, Y/N felt seven pairs of eyes on her pausing for her explanation as to why they were indulging in cheesecake and champagne on a random Thursday evening. There wasn’t much to say other than the obvious, even if it somehow felt odd now that she was meeting Jeongguk’s wary gaze. “It’s your birthday Jeongguk, I thought we should celebrate!”

Aside from Yoongi’s muted amused snickers from the sink, where he was soaking pans, no one spoke, apparently waiting for the other shoe to drop and for Jeongguk to react. The elk hybrid appeared frozen in time, staring at Y/N with the intensity of one thousand suns, a shred of velvet unceremoniously shedding from a bony and bloodied antler and promptly landing on his shoulder. The timing would have made her laugh, had she not been so distracted by how perturbed Jeongguk looked.

“Seriously? How old are you today, elk? 23?” Hoseok finally broke the silence with impatience underlying the questions, eyeing a champagne flute from his spot on an island barstool with impatience.

“I–” Jeongguk coughed thickly, eyes tearing from Y/N’s face to stare at the wrapped gifts on the counter, his face draining of color. “What…?”

“He’s 25 today, Hoseok,” Y/N replied offhand, not only too busy watching Jeongguk go from bristly to flabbergasted, rooted to his spot in the threshold of the kitchen, but also realizing the elk hybrid had surpassed her in age already. Officially, she was the youngest in the house, and the one responsible for everyone within it.

Acting before she could think too much about it, she moved towards Jeongguk, actually able to herd him over to a seat at the island with a hand wrapped around his strong forearm, the elk hybrid apparently too stunned to react to both her touch and the surprise. Promptly, she shoved a flute of champagne into his tattooed fist as his ass hit the barstool before divvying out glasses to everyone else, thankful for the light soft rock playlist she had playing from her portable speaker on the coffee bar to make up for lack of conversation.

“Okay, who needs rice?” Yoongi either sensed Y/N’s nerves or was voracious himself, wielding a rice paddle and plopping great servings into large cereal bowls, his champagne glass pinched in his other hand delicately as he worked.

All at once, the tension broke– Jimin, Seokjin and Taehyung had crawled to the island for their rice, and the room was full of dodging one another to stack ingredients into their bowls so they could dig into dinner. When Y/N pulled the enormous helping of dumplings out of the air fryer, it was as if she had handed all of them one million dollars, and before she could even place the baking sheet on the counter, there were less than a dozen dumplings left. She was thankful that ever since Taehyung and Namjoon’s fight, it seemed that whatever tense or awkward situation would dissolve soon after it cropped up– but Y/N was still observing Jeongguk out of the corner of her eye, robotically filling his bowl of rice with steak and vegetables with the faintest blush dancing across his high cheekbones.

“Happy birthday Jeongguk,” Y/N repeated, planting herself in the barstool beside him once she had elbowed Hoseok away from the oven, the hot foiled dish of ziti in her mitted hand sliding across the island as she placed it beside the elk hybrid.

Jeongguk paused, his chopsticks halfway to his mouth with a clump of rice and half of a dumpling, eyeing both her and the little covered tray she offered sideways. At least he wasn’t violently angry that she had surprised him with a party, she concluded.

“What’s this?” Jeongguk muttered gruffly, using his nose to jerk towards the foil.

Behind her, she could hear Seokjin, Yoongi, and Jimin talking about films they had watched together that week at the breakfast nook while Namjoon listened quietly beside them, as well as registering some open-mouthed chewing that made her cringe. Taehyung was on her other side, silent of course, and Hoseok decided to cut his losses and sit beside the Kodiak hybrid– though, Hoseok seemed quite content with pouring himself a second glass of champagne and occasionally shouting over his shoulder to join in on the conversation from the breakfast nook.

“Can’t you tell with those senses of yours?” Y/N teased, Jeongguk rolling his eyes as he chewed. “Sal’s ziti. I picked some up for you after work– your birthday only comes once a year, after all!”

Jeongguk must have known what it was, but he still appeared taken aback, ignoring the inferno-hot temperature of the foil as he reached over to peel it back and examine the ziti. His face became unreadable, lip ring pulled between his teeth as he jabbed a noodle with his chopsticks.

“Why?” Jeongguk questioned softly, the raspiness of his voice still audible over the Steely Dan song that was pulsing over the speaker, even if she had to lean closer to hear him. His question puzzled her.

“What do you mean, ‘why’? It’s your birthday, Jeongguk,” Y/N replied equally softly, trying not to dissolve into sand when her eyes locked with his own inky stare. “I noticed how much you liked it at the cookout, so consider it a birthday gift from Sal’s family. Save room for dessert though, there’s still cake.”

With her last statement, she nodded towards the cheesecake that was sitting a few feet away from him, Jeongguk looking like he didn’t know whether to shit or go blind as he looked from her, the cake, the wrapped gifts obviously for him, and the meal he was currently enjoying.

“Y/N,” Hoseok snatched her attention for a moment, the fox hybrid leaning over Taehyung with the champagne bottle, topping her glass off and lifting an eyebrow at the Kodiak hybrid leaning back in his barstool to put space between them. “That chart you put up on the fridge, with the clubs. Can you tell me more about some of them?”

She clinked glasses with Hoseok as he smirked at her, pleased that he’d actually brought it up. Hoseok was definitely the most extroverted and outgoing hybrid she had adopted, while the rest of them were a bit more on the reserved side. It was one of the many reasons she and Hoseok got along so well– he was often the one to engage her in sarcastic banter, shriek at the TV at the same time she did, and initiate drinking games or conversations during mealtimes– their personalities were pretty similar.

“Yeah, sure! Any ones you were interested in, particularly, honey?” Y/N took a sip of her champagne, the fruity bubbles popping and peppering her upper lip with moisture.

“The sports teams,” Hoseok replied simply, Y/N noting that Hoseok was acting like there was nothing but air between him and her, Taehyung all but an apparition as he glued himself to the back of his barstool and nursed his own glass of champagne while he soaked in the conversation.

“Thought that would be your answer,” Y/N chuckled, stirring some rice around in her bowl with an easy smile. “Well, all their teams run year-round, but they’re broken up seasonally so you get week-long breaks between each season. I read on the rec website that they’ll move teams indoors during the fall/winter seasons, the basketball and track teams, I believe. There’s also a swimming team… if you pick one, they provide the athletic wear or swimsuits, and practices are four times a week, games or tournaments every couple of weeks depending on the sport you choose.”

Hoseok munched on a crispy bit of pork dumpling in deep contemplation, Y/N almost able to see the wheels turning in his head as he processed her words. Suddenly, he leaned backwards in his barstool, craning his neck towards the breakfast nook to catch the attention of some of the hybrids seated there.

“Hey. Jimin, Jin? What do you think, should we join a team? How about the swimming team– Jinnie, you have the shoulders for it,” Hoseok mused, Seokjin spitting out a bit of champagne on the floor as a look of pure horror and dread crossed over his fine features.

“N-no!” Seokjin gasped, almost appearing as if he was petrified that Hoseok would even ask him something so outrageous. “Please, no–”

“Jesus, Jin, okay, just say you don’t want to wear a speedo next time,” Hoseok rolled his eyes, his signature whistle tone following the jab.

Y/N, however, found Seokjin’s response to Hoseok’s offer completely out of character for the jaguar hybrid. He looked genuinely disturbed and frightened over the mere suggestion of swimming, his complexion on the side of green, his hands visibly shaking as he clutched his chopsticks with whitened knuckles.

“Sorry, Hoseok. I think I’ll be busy working on the stable, for now. Maybe in the spring I’ll take up a sport with you,” Jimin added to Hoseok’s disappointment, the fox hybrid’s ears drooping a little in response.

“Whatever, you guys are boring. I was leaning more towards the track team, anyways…” Hoseok brightened up after a beat, once again letting things roll right off of his shoulders. “Is it alright if I sign up for that, Y/N?”

“Of course it is! Whatever you guys want to sign up for is totally fine with me,” Y/N blushed, feeling a little odd about her role in the household once more. She wasn’t used to people asking for her permission to do things they wanted to do with their lives.

“What a shame, Foxy. I was thinking about joining the basketball team,” Yoongi vocalized from his spot beside a still queasy looking Seokjin, a lazy smirk curling his pouty lips up into the apple of his cheek.

“You play basketball, Yoongi?” Y/N asked, turning her body to gawk at the leopard hybrid with surprise. She would have bet a large sum of money that Yoongi would have been interested in the music club over sports, but then again– she learned something new about each hybrid every second she spent with them.

“Yeah, you know that outdoor court over in Chinatown? There was a kind-of team of a few guys I knew by the bar I worked at, I played with them whenever I was off the clock. Which wasn’t very often,” Yoongi responded, his hazel irises glittering in the low light of the kitchen as he met her eyes.

“Oh yeah, Reggie Wong Memorial Park? God, I used to walk by there all the time in college…” Y/N murmured mostly to herself, that nagging feeling that was more frequently popping up that she must have seen Yoongi around before. Boston was a small city, and the fact that he hung around in an area that happened to be within her old college stomping grounds seemed like no coincidence to her.

Hoseok began to bicker with Yoongi from across the room, the fox hybrid apparently not a fan of basketball and attempting to convince Yoongi to join the track team with him. Giggling, Y/N turned her body back to her meal, but her attention was snagged once more by Taehyung, who tugged lightly at the sleeve of her blouse.

“Mm? What’s that, Tae?” Y/N shifted closer to the Kodiak hybrid, unable to hear his quiet voice over the banter from behind her and the music still playing from the speaker.

“Photography? Was that one of the clubs?” Taehyung repeated into her ear, some of his curls tickling the cartilage making up the shell as his voice sent a shiver down her spine. Taehyung kept mostly to himself since the night of ‘The Incident’ or so she had deemed it, so having him so close and speaking to her directly was something that had her heart speeding up in her chest.

“It was. Do you want to give it a try?” Y/N cocked her head, searching Taehyung’s face for a crack in his stoicism. It was there, as much as she believed he was trying to mask it from her, but his eyes rounded out in vulnerability as she read his expression and it was his give away.

Taehyung nodded slightly, biting down on his lip softly as he returned to his dinner, ceasing to say anything more. Deciding to let it go, knowing that Taehyung had opened up before and would again in his own time, she focused on finishing her rice and making a mental note to tackle filling out all of the forms for the clubs each hybrid wanted to join the next day; she’d have to do it promptly so they could participate for the autumn season.

Y/N was usually the last to finish her meal. The hybrids always ate with such speed she often worried that one of them would wind up choking, and that night was no different. She kept one eye on Jeongguk beside her, who had ended up not only finishing his entire rice bowl but was currently plowing through the last third of the ziti.

Heaving herself off of her stool, she assisted Hoseok and Taehyung with loading up the dishwasher and wiping down the counters in preparation for serving the cake. Namjoon had managed to sneak his way to the island, taking Y/N’s former seat once Taehyung had got up, surreptitiously glancing at the cake every once in a while with longing. Y/N noticed the wolf hybrid had a bit of a preference for sweets, though she believed he was unaware of how obvious his preference was. She could tell by the way his tail would wag a little faster at the sight of a baked good, his amber eyes becoming just a bit sparklier. It was a trait that softened some of Namjoon’s rougher edges, in her mind.

“Aw, we’re out of champagne,” Hoseok whined, shaking an empty bottle in one of his fists once he finished wiping down the counter by the sink. Snorting, Y/N shook her head.

“I have the rest of the case in my car. I’ll go grab it before we have cake,” Y/N reached up to pat Hoseok’s head fondly, her fingertips gliding through his soft mahogany strands. Hoseok shuddered, though an amused smile stretched across his face at the contact.

“I’ll take care of the rest of the clean up with Taehyung,” Hoseok promised in response, going as far as wiping down the faucet with the rag he was holding.

“That eager for another glass, huh? Alright, alright, I’ll go now,” Y/N teased, visually sweeping the kitchen for the other hybrid’s glasses– most of the flutes were drained.

She hadn’t drank all week, herself, and it was officially the start of her long weekend… Y/N figured she might as well get buzzed if they were going to celebrate Jeongguk’s birthday properly. She side-stepped around Taehyung, who was placing pots back in their rightful spots, while she used a hand to soothe down his flannel-clad back with a pleased grumble coming from his chest as she did so.

Humming along to the Pink Floyd song that had come on, Y/N headed towards the foyer with her car keys swinging around her pointer finger, ready to stick a straw in one of those champagne bottles after the jam-packed week she had. She made it about three steps into the foyer before a hand clasped hers from behind, Y/N startled that she realized exactly who it was without even turning around. Tender grip, interlaced digits, crooked fingers slotting between hers, the scent of eucalyptus. Seokjin.

“Hi Jin, want to get some fresh air?” Y/N peered up at his gorgeous face, his ears fluttering slightly. Nodding, he let her tug at his hand, pulling him to the front door.

“You said there was a case of champagne in your car. I thought you might need some help,” Seokjin offered once she led him out to the porch, the sun finally slipping beneath the treeline and the sky a dusky purple.

“Aw, you know I can lift things, right?” Y/N bumped her hip into Seokjin, even though she was appreciative to have a moment alone with him. She hadn’t really had a chance to spend one-on-one time with the jaguar hybrid in a while, he had been quite enraptured with the book club selection of the week, and she had been busy at work and running around preparing for Jeongguk’s party. Truthfully, she missed the sweet moments she shared with Seokjin.

“Doesn’t mean you have to,” Seokjin muttered cutely, waiting for her to pop open the trunk to the Land Cruiser. Giggling, she squeezed his hand, his thumb brushing over her wrist bone before she released him, sitting down on the back of her car and gazing up at the sky. She had some nagging questions for Seokjin, and wondered if it would be wise to bring any of them up while she had this moment alone with him, away from the other hybrids.

“Seokjin,” Y/N uttered softly, feeling the car bounce with his weight once he sat beside her, similarly admiring the twilight sky. He hummed, indicating he was listening, Y/N able to feel his body heat with how close he was to her; their shoulders mere inches away. “How did the book club go on Monday? I’m sorry I haven’t asked until now.”

Distantly, Y/N could still hear music coming from inside of the home, as well as Hoseok’s loud, boisterous laughter, but all she could focus on were the crickets in the grasses of the front yard and the sound of Seokjin’s soft breathing beside her. There was an underlying sound, a sort of muted rumble that came from beside her, making her cheeks flush– she noticed that both Seokjin and Yoongi often purred quietly when in close proximity to her, like overgrown house cats.

“Oh, don’t be sorry, you’ve been so busy this week,” Seokjin shook his head, scooching a bit closer to her as he spoke so that their thighs touched. “I enjoyed it. I didn’t participate much because I hadn’t read the book they were discussing, but listening to everyone’s thoughts was fun. Your mom was kind though, I didn’t feel out of place like I thought I would. Namjoon… it was interesting, seeing him like that.”

“Namjoon? How so?” Y/N wondered, eyebrows furrowing.

“He’s insightful, he sort of led the discussion. He’s more quiet and calculating, here, at home,” Seokjin commented, leaning back on his hands. Y/N hummed, trying to conjure up an image of Namjoon engaging in elaborate conversations amongst a group setting– the thought was mystifying.

As always, there was a comfortable lull in conversation between her and the jaguar hybrid; one that felt cozy, like they were sharing a space to soak in surroundings and enjoy each other's quiet presences. Still, there were so many things she wanted to know about Seokjin– while she felt quite close to him already, the jaguar hybrid had yet to offer her any kind of information into his past. Y/N didn’t feel like she was owed personal information from Seokjin, however, she was interested as to why he had been so horrified when Hoseok had brought up the prospect of joining the swim team together.

“Hey, Seokjin… can I ask you something?” Y/N lowered her voice, wanting the conversation to be as private as she could make it, considering Seokjin was certainly one of the more shy hybrids.

“Sure,” Seokjin replied after a moment, likely sensing her hesitancy. Y/N could feel the sleek, silky black fur of his tail curling around the bare skin of her lower back under her crop top, and the weight of his fiery eyes studying her profile analytically.

“Earlier, I noticed your reaction to Hoseok asking about you joining the swimming club. You looked upset, and I was wondering why…” Y/N fidgeted with her hands in her lap, recalling the day she brought Seokjin home.

Y/N had offered him her copy of Lord of the Rings the afternoon he had woken up from his fever the day she met him, and she could still picture his heartbroken expression in her mind. The last thing she ever wanted to do was upset Seokjin in that way again, but she had long since accepted that in order to establish deeper bonds with her hybrids, she’d have to have difficult conversations and risk touching upon raw nerves. That didn’t mean she enjoyed it, however. As the words left her mouth, she could not only feel the way that Seokjin’s tail had wound around her body tighter, but the way his thigh began to tremble against her’s. He was quiet, so she spoke once more.

“Are you afraid of water, Seokjin?” Y/N continued gently, fearing that if she spoke louder, the small bubble she found the two of them in would burst and the moment would slip away.

“N-... not exactly,” Seokjin finally breathed, after what felt like an eternity of silence as they both gazed up at the violet sky. “Not always. When you adopted me, when I was injured… that was a result of an accident, involving water. It’s stupid, but I’ve been wary since.”

Seconds ticked by, Y/N letting his words sink in. It wasn’t a whole lot to go on, but it made a lot of sense. On Seokjin’s profile from the hybrid database, it had mentioned he suffered from many phobias, PTSD. He didn’t know that she was aware of this, let alone that she knew a bit about his past in the circus business, but the pieces were coming together for her.

“It’s not stupid, honey. Everyone has fears, especially after a traumatic brush with one in particular. I just want you to know, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, and I’m here for you,” Y/N wrapped her nearest arm around Seokjin’s wide shoulders, attempting to pull his larger body into her side. Seokjin was normally quite pliant with her, so it didn’t take much effort to maneuver him despite his size and mass.

“I, um… I used to be a performer, before you adopted me. That’s when it happened, a few weeks ago, the accident? I did stunts, acrobatics, for Cirque–”

Seokjin went ramrod straight, flinching away from Y/N as the front door swung open with a great groan five yards away, music, voices, and light flooding into the front yard. Shuddering from the immediate absence of Seokjin’s comforting warmth, Y/N squinted towards the porch, peeved that Seokjin was interrupted as he was about to open up.

“Did you two get lost? It’s been forever!” Hoseok shouted from the threshold of the door, Y/N able to make out the triangular shape of his ears with the light coming from inside the house, the fox hybrid’s arms crossed over his chest.

Groaning, Y/N eased herself off of her perch on the trunk, Seokjin already gathering the case of champagne in his arms, the corded muscles flexing as he lifted it out of the car and started towards the house. Shutting the trunk of the car, Y/N trailed after Seokjin closely, a tightness in his back muscles straining against his lavender tee shirt that she knew had little to do with carrying the box held in his arms. Y/N wondered if it would be wise to create a schedule on her phone, so she could allot specific times to spend one on one with each hybrid, or if she was simply salty that Hoseok had interrupted.

As soon as she hauled herself into the house, Hoseok locked up the front door behind her, the strange three-note whistle he often crooned tickling her ears as she watched Seokjin disappear into the kitchen. Raising her eyebrows at Hoseok, who was grinning down at her like he knew something she didn’t, Y/N reached out to teasingly poke at his tummy, the fox hybrid giggling and nimbly dodging the attack.

“What’s with that tone you always whistle, Hoseok? Is it your personal trademark, or something?” Y/N attempted to chase Hoseok around the foyer, even though he was far too swift on his feet for her to ever catch him even by the hem of his sweatshirt.

“Oh, do you not like it?” Hoseok paused, examining the way her chest heaved as she leaned against the banister of the grand staircase, expression playful. However, there was something about the way his smile didn’t completely reach his eyes, making Y/N backtrack.

“No, that’s not it at all,” Y/N insisted immediately, not wanting to make him feel insecure about a quirk that truthfully endeared him to her. “I like it. If I ever lose you in a grocery store or something, I’ll whistle that same tone until I can find you.”

Cocking his head, Hoseok apparently not expecting that response, Y/N felt her cheeks flush as the fox hybrid looked her up and down, appearing serious for a moment, lost in thought. He opened and closed his mouth, as if to say something clever in response, but the words appeared to die on his tongue as Y/N grinned at him slyly. Finally, chuckling once more while shaking his head, Y/N exhaled the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. Was that perhaps too forward, or embarrassing? Hoseok rarely found himself at a loss for words around her, so clearly some part of the exchange threw him off guard.

“Come on, darling, let’s go celebrate your long weekend,” Hoseok used a pointer finger to beckon her towards the entrance of the kitchen, his russet tail swishing as he spun on his heels, whistling his signature three notes once more. “And the elk, or whatever.”

Suddenly remembering that she had been anticipating this exact part of the evening for the past week, Y/N unfroze from her spot by the staircase, speeding past Hoseok with a smirk and bounding into the kitchen. A loud pop came from her right, Y/N managing not to flinch as Yoongi broke into a fresh bottle of the champagne, passing the bottle to Jimin so the coyote hybrid could refill glasses around the room.

Jeongguk seemed more relaxed now that the shock of the surprise celebration had worn off, leaning his forearms on the granite of the island as he spoke with Namjoon beside him. Y/N found it interesting that those two had managed to become closer over the past week; considering Jeongguk was the one to haul Namjoon away from Taehyung the night of The Incident. She couldn’t deny the similarities between the two– both a tad surly and serious, common interest in paranormal or occult subject matter, and not to mention face-melting glares she had been on the receiving end of on occasion or two. Secretly, she hoped they’d grow even closer as time passed, as it would be nice for each of the hybrids to have at least one other in the house they could bond with besides her.

Swirling the room-temperature champagne around in her flute, her eyes flickered to Taehyung, who was peering out at the backyard from the slider by himself, and wished with all of her heart that with time, he’d be able to connect with the other hybrids and they’d accept him as well. The Kodiak hybrid seemed so lonely in a room full of people, his lips moving as he mouthed the words to the song on the speaker, staring out at the half-moon in the sky.

Feeling a familiar hand on her lower back, Y/N brightened up, Yoongi stepping around her with a silver pie server, setting it next to the cheesecake and quietly watching Y/N stick candles on top of it.

“I remember you saying you used to do ‘cleansings’ with a group of paranormal investigators,” Namjoon’s voice came to her attention, addressing Jeongguk over the rim of his champagne flute.

Trying not to snicker, Y/N pretended she wasn’t listening– Namjoon was doing two things that amused her; asking questions in forms of statements again, and likely beginning to persuade the elk hybrid into helping her and himself with the protective wards the following week.

“Weren’t you in your room studying when I said that?” Jeongguk asked dryly, pierced brow lifting as he used a crooked finger to swipe blood from his cheekbone distractedly.

Namjoon ignored the elk hybrid’s comment, his bitten ear twitching with agitation, before setting his champagne flute down and leveling the most friendly look he could muster at the younger hybrid. Coming from beside Y/N as she continued to place candles on the cheesecake, she felt a silky tail smack the back of her thigh lightly, which was Yoongi’s way of non-verbally asking her if she was listening to the peanut gallery in front of her. Glancing at the leopard hybrid from her peripherals, he bit his lip to prevent himself from laughing at her ‘act natural’ telepathic plea, Y/N forgetting to find it odd that she could communicate with Yoongi in this way; without ever uttering a word.

“Are you going to tell me about it, or do I have to pry?” Namjoon deadpanned, clearly annoyed that he had to actually ask for information from Jeongguk.

“There’s not much to add. I’ve only been in the Boston area for a little over a year. I was hiding out in some old-ass abandoned church to keep away from agents sweeping strays off the streets, and one night a bunch of fucking nerds with cameras and holy water broke into the church. I was about to beat the shit out of them for waking me up, but they were squealing so much when they saw me that I took pity on them.”

“And?” Namjoon knit his eyebrows together while drawing out the syllables of the word, clearly not hearing what he wanted to quite yet.

“And what, you nosy fuck? They thought I was some kind of cryptid until I turned the lights on. They were so harmless it was laughable, so I made them tell me what they were up to. I knew a fair bit about what paranormal investigators do, so we talked for a bit. After that, they’d seek me out every few weeks for my thoughts on random occult topics until they scraped up the courage to ask me to go with them on investigations from time to time, mostly when the investigations involved exorcisms or more malevolent entities.”

“Did you guys have a Youtube series or something I can watch later when I want a good laugh?” Hoseok interjected by the fridge, lazily overseeing the conversation as he downed the rest of his champagne.

“No, dipshit,” Jeongguk grumbled, taking a hearty swig from his own flute and appearing to compose the aggravation off of his face. “I think Mark and Jude, the two camera geeks, had some kind of podcast, but I never participated in that crap. Hopefully the team hasn’t gotten themselves killed in my absence…”

Y/N studied Jeongguk’s face carefully. While delighted that he had willingly shared some details of what he’d been up to prior to his adoption, she didn’t miss the near imperceptible way the corners of his mouth turned downwards when he spoke about the paranormal investigation team, as much as she knew he was trying to make it seem like they were just a bunch of bothersome people from his past. She would bet a fair bit of money that Jeongguk actually missed the team, though there was no doubt he would deny that speculation up and down if she ever mentioned it to him.

Catching Namjoon asking Jeongguk if they could talk the next day, Jeongguk nodded, lost in his thoughts as the wolf hybrid seemed temporarily satisfied with what he had gotten out of Jeongguk. Y/N sensed Seokjin’s presence again, craning her neck upwards as he offered her a gentle grin, setting a stack of little paper plates down on the counter for the cake. She supposed it was about time to dig into dessert, Namjoon was eyeing the cake again, and Hoseok and Jimin were getting a touch rowdy with the champagne they were putting away like water.

She struck a match, swiftly lighting the five candles she stuck around the icing script reading Happy 25th Birthday Jeongguk, leaning on her tip-toes to slide the cake in front of the elk hybrid across the island. The flames from the candle had light reflecting off of the silver jewelry threaded through his ears and face, and sharpening his already strong features. Everyone quieted down a bit, Jeongguk reading the top of the cake with the faintest twinkle of amusement in his eyes.

“Okay, make your wish!” Y/N encouraged once the elk hybrid looked at her for direction, for once not really seeming to mind that he was the center of attention. Namjoon, from beside him, seemed utterly confused with what was going on, as if he had never celebrated a birthday before.

Jeongguk rolled his eyes before hurriedly blowing out the candles, Y/N clapping with excitement as Yoongi made the first move to pull the candles from the cake and begin to slice it with the pie server.

“What’d you wish for?” Jimin asked from the breakfast nook, sitting in between Taehyung and Seokjin with an easygoing smile.

“Jimin, don’t you know if he tells you, it might not come true?” Y/N gasped dramatically, pressing a hand over her chest for added theatrics as Hoseok and Yoongi snickered at her antics. Jimin, however, became the picture of apologetic with his ears drooped; until Y/N waved her hand and mouthed I’m joking.

Yoongi placed the first slice of cheesecake in front of the birthday boy, before Y/N helped him ferry it off to the other hybrids, making sure she dropped the second slice in front of Namjoon before he began drooling. She thought about making an array of desserts for his birthday, since he apparently liked them so much. Once everyone had a slice and a fork in front of them, Y/N sat on Jeongguk’s free side with her own plate, promptly digging into the dessert and watching Yoongi trudge over to the breakfast nook to sit beside Seokjin.

“Oh, this is good,” Hoseok’s voice came from across the island, hip leaning on the granite as he ate standing up.

“Thought you didn’t like cheesecake,” Jeongguk accused around a forkful of dessert, the fox hybrid shrugging in response, his sharpened teeth biting down on his lower lip as he stifled a laugh.

Once dessert was squared away in between Y/N divulging more details about the clubs at the rec center and discussing tentative weekend plans, she nudged the gifts closer to Jeongguk, who quickly became skeptical and wary once the gift bags were in front of his face.

“Here, open this one first. It’s from my parents, my mom picked it out,” Y/N tapped the little black box closest to his inked elbow while sipping on her champagne, heat pooling in her cheeks as the alcohol began to dizzy up her head.

She had talked to her mother for a few minutes when she picked Namjoon and Seokjin up from the book club on Monday and mentioned Jeongguk’s birthday in passing. To her surprise, her mother showed up at Judy’s the following Wednesday during her shift with a gift for the elk hybrid, which honestly she should have expected. While her mother and father hadn’t interacted with Jeongguk too much, Y/N secretly peaked at the gift– it was strangely suited to his tastes.

Yoongi was bickering with Hoseok at the sink, both of them hissing in surprise as Jimin popped open yet another bottle of champagne, his almost childlike giggles making Y/N’s heart squeeze. Jeongguk took up the small black box, examining it like it was going to explode between his fingertips.

“Y/N, do you mind if I run upstairs and shower? I’ll be back in a little bit,” Seokjin tapped her shoulder, Y/N nodding with a thumbs-up, noting the way Seokjin seemed a little on edge still. Watching the jaguar hybrid go, Hoseok stole her attention next.

“We’re gonna go figure out what movie to put on,” Hoseok called from the entrance of the kitchen into the parlor, his arm slung around Yoongi’s elegant shoulders as the leopard hybrid glared at Hoseok out of the corners of his eyes. The fox hybrid began to haul Yoongi away, Jimin close behind with two bottles of champagne tucked into an ice bucket. “Join us after?”

“Sure thing, angels,” Y/N chuckled, Jimin’s tail wagging more quickly at the term of endearment as he hurried after Hoseok and Yoongi. Part of her new nighttime routine was ending the evening with a movie or two with the hybrids in the cushy parlor room, usually over a cocktail or a bowl of ice cream.

“Whoa,” Y/N was brought back to the events unfolding beside her, Jeongguk finally opening the gift from her parents as strange emotions danced over his face.

It was a sterling silver necklace, one that would likely sit below the dip of his collarbones; the pendant a medieval looking sword. It was edgy, gothic, masculine– all the things Jeongguk embodied effortlessly. Her mother must have caught all of the silver jewelry Jeongguk already wore through his countless piercings, and went out to buy a necklace to match. Namjoon leaned closer to the elk hybrid to take a look, his head cocking contemplatively as he stared at the jewelry.

“Pretty. Do you like it? They probably got it from the craft fair that’s been going on in Boston Common this week,” Y/N was practically bouncing on her barstool, fighting back the urge to take the necklace from the box and fasten it around Jeongguk’s neck herself, just to see what it looked like.

“Mm,” Jeongguk hummed, cheeks pink with potential embarrassment, keeping the box open and setting it to the side. “It’s really nice. I need to thank them.”

“They’ll probably pop by at some point this weekend,” Y/N replied, a tad distractedly.

Taehyung had slipped from the room under her nose, and she wondered where he had wound up– doubtful that he’d followed the three in the parlor currently yucking it up loudly. All that remained in the kitchen were herself, the elk hybrid, and Namjoon. She had the feeling Namjoon had stuck around just so he could possibly coerce Jeongguk into setting wards with them (or possibly have another slice of cheesecake).

“Okay, this one next,” Y/N pushed one of the remaining two gift bags in front of him, Jeongguk immediately diving his hand into the bag, whether to speed up the process to escape her attention or out of eagerness to find out what else he was getting, she didn’t know.

Jeongguk pulled out the book, leather journal, and pack of pens she picked up from him at the bookstore, faintly snorting at the cover of The Paranormal Investigative Field Guide. His eyebrows furrowed as he passed his palm over the carved leather journal, fiddling with the intricate clasp as he set the pens and book aside.

“I don’t know what you keep in that other journal of yours, but it looked like it was almost filled up the last time I saw you writing in it. Maybe this one will last you a bit longer,” Y/N explained, trying not to grin too widely at both Jeongguk’s growing fluster and Namjoon not-so-subtly leaning across the island to steal Y/N’s plate of half-eaten cheesecake she had long since abandoned.

“What do you write in that journal? You carry it around everywhere,” Namjoon inquired over a mouthful of cheesecake, his half-bitten ear flickering at the sound of someone clinking champagne flutes together in the parlor.

“It’s just where I keep my notes. One of the investigators I knew gave it to me. I write down what I see and how I think I can get rid of it, the results of any ritual I do, etcetera etcetera,” Jeongguk shrugged, eyeing the last gift. “This is the last one, right? You didn’t buy me a car or anything, I hope.”

Snorting, Y/N shook her head, enjoying her time spent with Jeongguk and Namjoon. While the two of them had given her a bit of grief in the past, she found she had quite a lot in common with both of them, and they had seemed to soften up significantly over the past week.

“Holy shit, a camera?” Jeongguk pulled the video recorder out of the final blue gift bag, turning the box around in several directions to read the specs on the side of the glossy cardboard.

“Yeah, I don’t know. I was going for a paranormal investigation theme. Who knows, with this old house, there might be some ghosts in the attic you can capture on film,” Y/N smiled widely, Namjoon humming in agreement.

The wolf hybrid was twitching in his seat, desperate to mention the entity he had banished from the house with Jeongguk, and the possibility that it was still hanging around. Y/N believed he was possibly waiting to bring the subject up the next day, which she thought was a nice gesture on Namjoon’s part– letting Jeongguk enjoy his birthday without it being tainted by the idea that his ritual hadn’t been a total success.

“I wonder… Would you ever consider contacting that team of investigators? They’d probably be relieved to hear from you, and that you’re doing okay,” Y/N pondered, considering Jeongguk hadn’t expressed any interest in the rec clubs she had compiled on the spreadsheet. Jeongguk put his camera down gently, his features cloaked in mystery.

“I could, I have the lead investigator Jeremy’s number,” Jeongguk began slowly, sucking his lip ring into his mouth in thought. “I’d have to think about it. With the way I was brought into that shithole shelter, there’s a strong possibility one of those fucks reported me to some agents. Not sure why they would do that, as they’re pretty fucking useless without me, but it makes the most sense. I’ve been on the streets for a while, so I know how to dodge agents. There’s no way I would have been caught unless someone called in a report.”

“Oh,” Y/N squeaked, not really expecting such a lengthy answer to her offhand question. “Well that would be pretty shitty of them, if that’s the case. I hope their podcast tanks.”

Jeongguk chuckled with this, Namjoon finally getting off of his barstool to toss his cheesecake-crumbed paper plates into the garbage drawer, pushing up the sleeves of his forest green henley as he slid the scant remains of the cheesecake into the fridge.

“I hope you liked everything, the food and the gifts! Oh, and thanks for being a good sport about the surprise. I know some people hate them,” Y/N gave Jeongguk a friendly pat on his shoulder, trying to avoid areas of the cream colored tee shirt dappled with blood.

Jeongguk paused, letting her words sink in as Y/N plucked a few pieces of shredded velvet off of his tee shirt and dropped them into a crumpled piece of blue tissue paper, her eyes on his antlers that seemed to be almost completely stripped of the rich brown velvet they were once covered in. She wondered how long it would take for the velvet to grow back, though admittedly, there was something a bit hauntingly beautiful about the way the bones were stripped raw.

“Uh, thank you. This was actually really nice, you didn’t have to plan anything, but you did. Tell me when your parents are coming by here so I can thank them, too,” Jeongguk managed after a moment, his voice sounding the most gentle she had ever heard it, and it was a rare moment where he didn’t slip an expletive into his speech.

Grinning, Y/N resisted the urge to give him a hug– both him and Namjoon had yet to initiate that kind of skinship with her, so she didn’t want to cross a boundary– and opted to give him a soft squeeze on his shoulder before hauling herself off of the barstool.

“You’re welcome, Jeongguk– I actually have a blast planning birthday parties, so it was my pleasure,” Y/N rounded the island, inching towards the entrance to the parlor. From the sounds of it, the three hybrids already in there hadn’t settled on a movie selection yet; talking over one another about their favorite sports.

Namjoon was staring at her from a few feet away while he downed the rest of his champagne; she could feel his gaze without even looking at him. Still, she couldn’t resist; turning to face him, she assessed his handsome face, the flush settled over his cheeks from the sparkling wine, the fullness of his lips that seemed to be naturally (and unfairly) rimmed with liner, and the orange honey color of his irises. All of his injuries from The Incident had long since faded, thankfully.

“And you…” Y/N began slyly, Namjoon’s tail swishing a little faster as she leaned towards him, “You’re next! In a little over a week, too. I’ll have to order your cake in the morning.”

Before the wolf hybrid could react, he flinched, a loud, pitchy whine coming from the parlor.

“Y/N! Yoongi won’t let me put on The Hangover!” Hoseok complained, his speech loosened from what was likely his seventh glass of champagne. Rolling her eyes, Y/N used a crooked finger to beckon Namjoon and Jeongguk so they could settle in for their before-bed movie.

“Hoseok, we watched that on Tuesday,” Y/N reminded him calmly, standing in front of the TV and evaluating the three tipsy hybrids sprawled out on the couch. “All three of them.”

“Well, what are your suggestions then, darling?” Hoseok leaned a cheek heavily on his palm, a shaky elbow balanced on the armrest of the sofa as he blinked at her innocently. She knew better than to give into the act, however.

“Let Jeongguk pick tonight,” Y/N wrestled the remote from the fox hybrid’s free hand, heavily plopping down between him and Yoongi, the latter of which seemed grateful for the barrier of her body between himself and Hoseok.

With the fox hybrid muttering beside her, though worming his body closer to her side ever so slightly, Y/N waited for Jeongguk and Namjoon to find seats: Namjoon on the floor in front of her with a spare pillow to sit on, Jeongguk on the leather recliner that was rarely free. Feeling Yoongi begin to hook a hand around her elbow, Y/N leaned forwards to toss Jeongguk the remote before she lost all function of her arms.

“I can pick the movie?” Jeongguk caught the remote mid air, a devilish expression shadowing his face ominously, dark eyes flickering between Hoseok and Namjoon.

Y/N felt Yoongi’s hand shift from around her elbow, pulling her back against the cushions of the couch so he could thread his arm through hers, tucking her into his side. Hoseok similarly arranged himself, his nearest arm slung along the backside of the couch behind Y/N, angling his body so he could face her slightly. Biting back a chuckle in response to the clinginess, increasing not only by day but with boldness as well, Y/N let the two hybrids beside her curl into her frame.

“Oh, Jin! I saved you a spot, come here,” Hoseok called happily once Seokjin appeared in the doorway between the foyer and the parlor, his raven curls damp from his shower and dressed in his pajamas. Promptly, the jaguar hybrid slunk into the room, stepping around Namjoon at Y/N’s feet and squeezing in between Hoseok and the armrest of the couch. He brought a cloud of eucalyptus and mint with him.

“Alright. We’ll watch this,” Jeongguk announced after a few moments of flicking through Y/N’s digital movie collection. Complaints came from every direction at his choice, Y/N peering at the flatscreen with confusion to see what the ruckus was about.

“Ooh! I love this movie!” Y/N exclaimed, and Jeongguk promptly pressed play and the eerie opening music of The Conjuring began to flood through the surround sound.

She hadn’t watched a horror movie in ages, even though they were amongst her favorites to lounge around and binge, and she certainly hadn’t watched one with the hybrids yet. They seemed to gravitate towards action or comedy movies, and she recalled Hoseok’s and Jimin’s aversions to The Bride of Chucky the night she brought them home and she scoured her movie library in search of something to watch with them.

“Of course you do,” Yoongi muttered from beside her, his chin hooking over her shoulder as he snuggled in closer to her, hazel eyes narrowed at the creepy Annabelle doll currently filling the large flatscreen.

“Fuck me, why do you want to watch something about a dirty old possessed doll?” Hoseok groaned, his tail curling around his front and across his lap, almost as if he was protecting himself with the thick fur.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you’re afraid, Hoseok. It’s just a scary movie,” Jimin suddenly interjected, his speech a little garbled after all the champagne he drank.

“Shut it, Jiminie. You’re telling me that thing doesn’t creep you out?” Hoseok replied, his arm around the back of the couch slipping lower to curl around Y/N’s shoulders, effectively trapping her between himself and Yoongi.

“This is based on a true story?” Namjoon wondered aloud, the tips of his ears fluttering against Y/N’s bare calves from where he was sitting between her legs, likely in response to Taehyung appearing in the room, finally. “The Warrens… I’ve read a book about them. The Demonologist.”

Even though Taehyung kept his distance from everyone in the house these days, he would still participate in mealtimes and the nightly movie routine. The Kodiak hybrid quietly entered the room, rounded behind the sofa, and took his usual seat at the back of the room by the window and entrance to the kitchen.

“Are you all going to talk through the entire film?” Jeongguk hiked up the volume, Y/N cringing in preparation for how loud it would get later on in the movie when jumpscares appear.

At her feet, Namjoon growled lowly, but ceased to talk any further. Y/N theorized that Namjoon was attempting to open himself up to Jeongguk, at the very least, considering their shared interests, and she thought he was doing pretty decently so far. In fact, it filled her with warmth that Namjoon was beginning to show a little bit of trust between not only herself, but some of the other hybrids as well. She could only hope the same for Taehyung, over time. Now that everyone settled into silence to watch the film, apart from Hoseok’s periodic disturbed yelps in response to suspenseful scenes, Y/N relaxed into the couch, letting the two hybrids beside her tangle themselves even more closely to her.

After the movie, Y/N managed to convince Jeongguk to save the second Conjuring movie for another day, and they switched back to New Girl reruns in order to calm not only Hoseok down, but a sufficiently creeped out Jimin as well. As it turned out, the coyote hybrid wasn’t as fearless as he had alluded to earlier in the night.

She had said her goodnights; which were drawn out thanks to how she had to comfort spooked Hoseok and Jimin, pry a drowsy Yoongi off of her, and navigate her own hazy tipsiness. Y/N had just given her final hug to Taehyung, who held onto her so tightly she wheezed, before he ruffled her hair and walked her to her bedroom door.

Pulling on her pajama shorts, Y/N chuckled to herself, wondering exactly when she was going to be driven insane in the near future due to the overwhelming amount of affection she was receiving from most of the hybrids lately. She knew that hybrids tended to get quite clingy and possessive over their adoptive guardians over time, but she wasn’t expecting many of them to warm up to her so fast. She couldn’t have imagined that she’d have five of them hugging her goodnight within two weeks of having them in the home– if someone had told her that the morning she made the adoptions, she’d laugh in their face.

Extremely satisfied with how well Jeongguk’s birthday had gone, Y/N yawned into her hand, images of the new array of emotions she saw on the elk hybrid’s face that night making her smile; his faint fluster, gentle amusement, and even a glimmer of fondness. Thinking about how soft his voice sounded when he thanked her for the celebration temporarily distracted her from the messy pile of notes she had strewn about her vanity that she was lurking over once she pulled her tank top over her head. Biting her lip, she leaned a hip against the piece of furniture, squinting at the nonsensical scrawl she had managed to pen down that week, the abandoned and dog-eared copies of hybrid guide books scattered across the surface, and the general lack of organization of the entire area.

She had planned on using the vanity as an altar for her practice, but in the past week, it was used for jotting down facts she had siphoned from the guide books, storing items and materials for the wards she was going to place around the property, and keeping a thin notebook she had used to make sense of the reading Judy had given her on Monday. Admittedly, there wasn’t much time she had dedicated to the latter subject over the past week– and truthfully, she had tried her best to push the reading out of her mind for as long as she could. Now that she had fewer things to distract her (such as planning Jeongguk’s birthday) and a wide-open long weekend, there was really no excuse for her to avoid dissecting the reading’s contents further. In a way, it would be practice for her rusty divination skills, and it would certainly scratch the itch she had been feeling since Judy sat her down for the reading in the first place.

Perching on her vanity stool, Y/N opened up the notebook with a small sigh, listening to the familiar and comforting sounds of Jeongguk’s heavy tread from above her bedroom. Based on the direction of his footsteps and the faint thrumming of the pipes overhead, Y/N deduced he was taking a shower before heading to bed. Switching on the twinkle lights draped over the vanity mirror, she narrowed her eyes at the few notes she had taken on the reading; starting with the cards Judy had indicated as being Namjoon and Jeongguk.

The Green Man - Namjoon, apparently (?) One who is a “father” of nature, represents summer (the ‘height’ of the wheel of the year). Patient. Perceptive, can see through what others cannot. Generous, proud, protective, masculine. Fearsome protector of nature, can be frightening? Known for a particularly strong and intense glare.

The Stag - Jeongguk (?) An individual concerned with the collective and the environment. Conscious of actions and consequences. Has great integrity. Keen judgment. Connected to the cosmic aspects of life, as well as the organic (understands how those are both linked…?) Shield. Bringer of change; for better or worse. Forgiveness is hard to earn if betrayed. Intervenes with the divine. Spring. Fire. Morality.

Biting down on the cap of her pen, Y/N looked from the frayed card guide book to her chicken scratch notes, distantly wishing she had the deck with her. It was always easier for her to connect to energies when she was physically holding the cards, soaking in the artwork. From what she gleaned from the meanings written in the guidebooks themselves, certain characteristics seemed to match up with things she had noticed in both Namjoon and Jeongguk’s personalities. As much as she wanted to write off the reading as a fluke, it was undeniable that the more she read into the energies, the clearer it was that the two hybrids were represented in the spread. Perhaps, in learning that truth, it led to her putting off digging into the meanings of the other cards, and putting together who was who.

Shivering, Y/N tried to ignore the slight queasiness curling in her gut, chalking it up to feeling guilt over looking into a reading that involved her hybrids without their knowledge. It was still difficult to wrap her mind around Judy’s implication that her meeting, or adoptions of the hybrids, were over a year in the making. Not only that, but the reading she wasn’t present for a year ago was surrounding romance. It was a dangerous game, to let herself think about any romance between herself and the hybrids at the present time. Everything was so new to her, to them, and easing the hybrids into their new life and tangling romantic feelings into that process would be irresponsible of her.

Rubbing her temples, Y/N pondered the conundrum she was in. She was well past the point in trying to deny her attraction to all of the hybrids, as well as the startlingly accelerated growth rate of her affection that seemed to double each day she spent with them. Her greatest fear was the hybrids realizing her budding feelings, and in turn coming to a conclusion that she had only adopted them for that sort of relationship– which couldn’t have been further from the truth. Talk about being stuck between a rock and a hard place.

To distract herself from spiraling for too long, Y/N began to fill out forms on the rec center website for Hoseok, Yoongi, and Taehyung, the mind-numbing task of plugging in names, measurements, and writing down equipment each of them would need effectively pulling her thoughts away from the reading. She’d tackle the nitty gritty of deciphering the other card meanings she had listed in the notebook at some point during the weekend. She was in the middle of jotting down some items she’d need to order for Taehyung to participate in the photography club, when she heard her phone chime on the charger across her bedroom.

Furrowing her eyebrows, she wondered if Alice was sending her Tiktok edits of Pedro Pascal again– it was pretty late, and she doubted it could be anyone else sending her a text message at two AM. Tiptoeing to her nightstand, Y/N rubbed her eyes and opened up her messages.

Seokjin: Y/N, are you still awake?

Seokjin: I hope I didn’t wake you up by sending that…

Y/N: LOL, it’s okay, honey, I haven’t gone to bed yet

Y/N: What’s up ? Need something? I can bring you some water or whatever

Straining her hearing to see if she could register any movement in the house outside of her bedroom, Y/N realized it was futile to try and listen for Seokjin. His bedroom was on the second floor and the opposite side of the house. Even Jeongguk had finally gone to bed; she heard him flop down heavily onto his bed about forty minutes prior. It was a windy night, so all that she could hear was the reedy willow branches whacking against the roof and sides of the house.

Seokjin: I was wondering if we could talk.

Pausing, Y/N blinked at the message thread between her and the jaguar hybrid. He had mentioned recently that he sometimes had trouble getting to sleep, so perhaps he was looking for a conversation to lull him into unconsciousness. Or, perhaps he wanted to continue their chat from earlier, which was interrupted by Hoseok.

Y/N: Of course we can! Want me to come to you?

Several minutes passed without a response from Seokjin, puzzling Y/N. She was in the middle of tapping out another message to him when the light drumming of fingertips against her bedroom door had her halting. Running a hand through her hair to make sure it wasn’t a nest on top of her head, Y/N started towards her door as quietly as she could, conscious of Namjoon on the other side of the wall and not wanting to wake him if she could help it.

“Jin? That’s you, right?” Y/N whispered as she carefully opened her door, met with the blackness of the hallway and eyeshine staring down at her. It was a little eerie to say the least, but the instant she caught a whiff of Seokjin’s eucalyptus shampoo her racing heart calmed a few beats. “Here, come in.”

Seokjin slunk into her bedroom lithely like a passing-by shadow, now completely visible in the purple glow of the fairy lights that illuminated the space. He looked a little twitchy, shifting from foot to foot, as Y/N shut the door behind him after she made sure no light was peaking out beneath the threshold of Namjoon’s bedroom door. The wolf hybrid, from the looks and sounds of it, appeared to be asleep, which brought her comfort– the last time another hybrid visited her in her room after hours, he had eavesdropped and flown off the handle.

“I’m sorry for bothering you so late, I really should have waited until tomorrow… this isn’t important or anything,” Seokjin immediately blurted as soon as she turned to face him, her mouth dropped open to ask him what he wanted to talk about.

“You’re not bothering me,” Y/N quickly assured, tucking hair behind her ear and giving him an inconspicuous once-over. Physically, he appeared to be just fine– in his pajamas, clean, complexion clear and healthy. His only tell that something was on his mind was the way his tail flicked back and forth anxiously. “Let’s talk. You mentioned last weekend that sometimes you have trouble getting to sleep. Is that what’s the matter?”

Seokjin swallowed thickly, the action making his Adam's apple bob in his throat, using a couple of fingers to tug at the loose neckline of his sleep shirt as if it was suffocating him.

“No… Well, partly. I couldn’t fall asleep, but that’s not why I wanted to…” Seokjin broke eye contact with Y/N, inching towards the side of her bed and fiddling with the carved wood of the bedpost. “I feel like I need to tell you about what happened to me before we met, before the adoption. I started to, but then Hoseok interrupted– that’s besides the point though. I wanted to tell you for a while, um, just in case you were wondering why something is so off about me.”

Y/N gawked at the jaguar hybrid with utter disbelief. He was under the impression she thought there was something “off” about him? Absolutely horrified, Y/N moved closer, motioning to her bed so they could sit down together.

“Hold on, Seokjin. First of all, I don’t think there’s anything ‘off’ about you. Secondly, you don’t have to tell me anything about your past if it makes you uncomfortable,” Y/N murmured firmly, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder to ease him down onto the mattress.

There was a beat, where Seokjin settled down onto her mattress and processed her response, his chest rumbling with light purrs as she lowered down beside him, an earnest look on her face as she soaked in the jaguar hybrid’s side profile.

“No, I know that. But there’s another reason I want to tell you. I think if I talk about it to someone I care about… someone like you, maybe the anxiety surrounding it will begin to ease,” Seokjin started softly, his eyes becoming far away like they were the afternoon she first spoke to him, staring out her window with the same mist clouding over his fiery irises.

The sentiment of Seokjin admitting she was someone he cared about was not lost on her. Her pulse was racing, warmth flooding her body from head to toe, Y/N squirmed in her seat. That aside, it had her heart aching that Seokjin had been through something causing him so much anguish it was causing him to lose sleep. Seokjin was an absolute sweetheart, and there was nothing more he deserved than peace of mind– the fact that he chose her to open up to had the gravity of the situation crashing down on her.

“So… I mentioned it earlier, but I performed stunts for big top shows. I trained for it my whole life, in labs– that’s what I was created for. Eventually, I was selected by a company, a traveling circus, and had been working there for a while,” Seokjin cleared his throat, running a hand through his curls, which appeared almost violet under the fairy lights in the room.

“A traveling circus,” Y/N confirmed, trying her best to remain as composed as possible. Something, in the back of her mind, rang like a bell. Her grandparents used to take her to a traveling circus, one that arrived city to city by train, every summer when she was growing up. Surely, though, it couldn’t be the circus Seokjin performed for– to her knowledge, hybrids weren’t part of any of the acts. “You did acrobatics, right? Along with stunts?”

“Yeah. We went coast to coast, year round. Things were slower in the winter, that’s usually when they’d have us learn new stunts for the summer shows. This past winter, the stunt directors wanted me to do something new, something fresh for the upcoming season. They said ticket sales weren’t what they used to be, and that we needed a new, shocking act to bring people in again,” Seokjin recounted, his rounded ears flattening against his skull as he spoke. “For a while, I thought the stunt directors had forgotten about bringing it up to me and some of the other acrobats, but things became even worse after our July shows in New York. We couldn’t even fill half the tent with showgoers.”

“So these stunts you’d do… I take it they were dangerous? And the stunt directors wanted what, to up the stakes for ticket sales?” Y/N tried to keep the agitation out of her voice, towards the stunt directors, obviously.

While Y/N loved the circus shows she had gone to growing up, as she got older, the glittering fantasy of it all rotted away into the reality she had come to be familiar with during her time at the animal hospital. Circus animals, and from what she could imagine, hybrids as well, were treated like nothing more than dirt by these companies. Their entire existences depended on performance, quality of performance– the training and the long hours were inhumane and the living conditions were just as dismal.

“Well, the stunts weren’t risk free. But my training throughout my life was very thorough, so accidents weren’t ever a concern,” Seokjin softly chuckled, leaning down to nudge Y/N’s shoulder with his own. “After the shows in New York, we headed here, to Boston. There were five days before the next show, and the stunt directors were already advertising for the new act. Usually we’d have weeks to prepare for something new, but not this time. It was just supposed to be me, too… I was a favorite, um, of the crowd, apparently.”

Discomfort washed over Seokjin’s lovely face as he murmured the latter part of his statement, his fingertips winding into the material of his sleep shirt. Y/N noticed that this seemed to be a habit of his when he was anxious or unsure.

“The accident, was it caused because you didn’t have enough time to practice?” Y/N asked after a moment, soaking in the way Seokjin’s ears fluttered with the sound of her voice.

“I suppose it was one of the many causes,” Seokjin mused, still seeming quite far away– Y/N wondered if she reached out to touch him, if her hand would pass through his body like an apparition. “I primarily did aerial acrobatics and the occasional wire walk. This stunt involved both of those things, and it was one of the most dangerous stunts I’ve ever been asked to perform. I was supposed to do an aerial performance on the wire, suspended above a pool– no net to catch me if I fell. I’ve never fallen, so the stunt directors weren’t concerned about that possibility… but things happen.”

“There was no net to catch you?” Y/N all but squawked, finding it hard to keep her voice down. As long as she’d live, she’d never go to another circus. Again, Seokjin chuckled, despite everything.

“No net. That isn’t why I fell, though,” Seokjin continued, leaning backwards on his palms so he could peer down at Y/N better. “At the last minute, the day before the show, they added one of my close friends to the act. She had little to no time to learn the aerial choreography, let alone get comfortable doing it on the wire; but she was also a ‘crowd favorite’, extremely talented, too. We were pretty used to performing together, but I could tell she was nervous about the whole thing. It was unlike anything either of us ever did.”

Pausing, Seokjin’s ear perked up, listening to the willow branches thwack against Y/N’s bedroom window, his orange eyes flashing as the wind picked up.

“Opening night in Boston, we ran the stunt twice beforehand to make sure we had it down, and we did. While we were practicing, they were testing the lighting and pyrotechnics, which was normal. They didn’t tell us they were trying out new effects, though, and no one told us what to expect prior to the show,” Seokjin caught Y/N’s eyes, slightly gnawing on his thick lower lip with pointed incisors as he paused to gather his thoughts.

“We were halfway through the act, and the tent– it was packed, I mean, we hadn’t sold that many tickets in months. Things were going well, I was just about to, uh… do the wire walk. I was supposed to go out halfway, catch my friend from where she was on the aerial hoops, then balance her on my shoulders and walk the rest of the way. As I stepped out on the wire, the pyrotechnics went off but they were much, much closer to where I was by the ladder than I was used to. Um, it startled me so much, I lost my footing, but I was able to hang on for a moment until I realized the top of the tent caught fire. Once I saw the fire, my grip loosened, and I was falling… The last thing I remember before hitting the water was my friend jumping after me, her arms stretched out.”

Y/N froze as soon as Seokjin mentioned the fire that had broken out. She remembered learning about that fire via the TV in the breakroom at the animal hospital weeks ago. Up until then, she hadn’t made the connection that Seokjin was involved in the tragedy– not only were several circus workers, but showgoers as well, were injured. She thought back to some of Seokjin’s behavior during the time she had spent with him; jitteriness around fire, anxiety in crowds, mortification when the swim team was brought up. Everything fell into place.

“So that cut on your side… all the bruising, it happened because of that fall, because the fireworks were too close to where you were performing?” Y/N whispered, trying to process everything. Seokjin hummed, flinching a bit when the air conditioner clicked on noisily. “I’m so, so sorry, Seokjin.”

“I finally woke up, at the shelter, and I met Hoseok and Yoongi. But… I don’t know what happened to my friend. I’ve been trying to find any mention of her in articles about the fire since you gave me my phone, but honestly I doubt the circus company would disclose, um, a d-death of a hybrid performer.”

“What was the circus company’s name, again? And your friend’s name, too? I could have Ben track down information. He has lots of connections, and is very persuasive when it comes to situations like these,” Y/N was desperate to help Seokjin in any way that she could, and wanted to make good on her mental promise to Seokjin when she adopted him that she’d find the people that injured him and slap them with a lawsuit.

“My friend’s name is Hannah. The company– it was Cirque Mystique,” Seokjin responded, eyeing Y/N with vulnerability as the blood drained from her face.

“No way,” Y/N breathed, memories coming back to her so suddenly and vividly it nearly took the wind out of her.

Seokjin was a part of the circus her grandparents took her to all her life. The magic of Cirque Mystique had long since evaporated for her; between the injured circus animals she treated at the animal hospital and now Seokjin’s revelation– the memories of the buttery scent of caramel corn, enchanting lights of the big top, and adrenaline-pumping performances had disgust welling up in her gut as the sensations washed over her. Y/N wasn’t exactly sure when Cirque Mystique had incorporated hybrids into their acts, but she had a suspicion that it had to do with not having to actually pay them for their labor.

“What’s wrong?” Seokjin furrowed his eyebrows, his tail instinctively wrapping around her lower back protectively. Damn, Y/N was supposed to be comforting him.

“Seokjin, I used to go to Cirque Mystique shows all the time with my grandparents when I was younger, whenever the train would arrive in Boston. I mean, I haven’t been in a couple of years, but…” Y/N shuddered as she felt the jaguar hybrid lightly drag his palm down her spine, likely in an attempt to soothe. Damn, again.

“Our shows used to be really popular. They only started employing hybrids into acts a few years ago. Perhaps, when you used to go to the show, the company wasn’t so–”

“Terrible? Irresponsible?” Y/N offered immediately, knowing that Seokjin tended to be a bit too kind or dismissive when describing horrible things that have happened to him. “I’m sorry that happened to you, Seokjin, and your friend Hannah, too. I promise, if Ben can dig up any information, I’ll let you know right away.”

Seokjin’s chest rumbled, the movement making him deflate a little bit. He appeared as if a weight was lifted off of him, though the melancholy was certainly still present around the slightly-drooped corners of his mouth.

“Thank you, Y/N, that means a lot to me,” Seokjin bumped his shoulder against her again, his lips pulling up into a tiny smile. “I’m glad I told you, I feel a lot better.”

“I’m glad you told me too. I hope confiding in someone makes it easier for you to fall asleep,” Y/N reached up to push a stray curl out of Seokjin’s eye, squeaking softly when the jaguar hybrid caught her wrist before she could pull it away.

She watched, transfixed on his movements, as Seokjin pressed her palm to his cheek, leaning into the caress with his eyes drawing shut. Stunned, Y/N felt the warmth of his cheek and the weight of his hand over hers, her heart beginning to pound in her chest. Seokjin hummed, his ears fluttering, and Y/N found herself at a loss for words.

“Y/N?” Seokjin murmured, eyes still shut.

“Hmm?” She managed, too busy memorizing each detail of his angelic face and begging her heartbeat to slow in her mind.

“Can I stay here tonight?” Seokjin sounded small, unsure. She’d shared a bed with Seokjin before, when she needed comfort, and she wasn’t about to turn him away after everything he just shared with her.

“Of course,” Y/N agreed quietly, running her thumb over the swell of his cheekbone delicately. “Want to lay down? It’s getting pretty late.”

Seokjin nodded, reluctantly releasing her hand and watching with rapt interest as Y/N got up and began rearranging her quilt on her bed and shutting off the lamps scattered about her bedroom. Something in her chest was squeezing; the strange sensation of being watched by someone waiting for her to make the first move, and everything Seokjin had said and done since he knocked on her door had her head positively spinning. Shimmying out of her slippers, Y/N switched off the fairy lights over her vanity, her ears perking up as she heard the sound of Seokjin making himself comfortable in the bed.

“Need an extra blanket?” Y/N grinned at the jaguar hybrid, who had wrapped himself up to his neck in her quilt so tightly he looked like a burrito.

He shook his head, staring at her expectantly through the darkness as she began to get into bed herself, wondering why she didn’t feel awkward about the whole situation. If only her friends could see her now: months ago, if Y/N had told them she was climbing into bed with a man she’s only known for just shy of two weeks, they’d probably drop her off at her old shrink’s office.

Seokjin didn’t leave much of the quilt for her, but she didn’t mind. She could feel his body heat from inches away, smell the familiar fragrance of his shampoo, and hear his light purring. Honestly, she hadn’t felt that immediately drowsy and comfortable in her bed since the last time Seokjin was in it with her, which was somewhat of a startling realization.

On her back, she tried to make out the shapes of the moldings on the ceiling, listening to the wind and Seokjin’s gentle breathing. The jaguar hybrid shifted, pulling more of the quilt over Y/N’s body, now resting on his side to face her. Shivering with his proximity, she stayed as still as she could, feeling him tentatively tuck his face into the crook of her neck, his forearm lightly slung over her midsection. Y/N was positive he could hear the way her heart was racing, but he didn’t seem to mind, his eyelashes brushing the column of her throat as he shut his eyes.

“Tired yet?” Y/N inquired, her voice hardly over a whisper. In response, Seokjin’s tail curled around her hips, his lips ghosting over her skin as he opened his mouth to speak.

“Mm. I like this quilt,” Seokjin mumbled, his speech slurred with sleepiness. “Smells like you.”

Y/N couldn’t help but bashfully giggle, using a hand to trace patterns over the skin of his forearm softly. Her father used to do something similar to her when she was anxious or couldn’t sleep, and subconsciously she knew that it was an attempt to comfort Seokjin even further.

“Hope that’s a good smell,” Y/N joked, Seokjin weakly humming, the vibrations of his voice tickling her neck.

“Hmm…” Seokjin tightened his hold around her waist, barely audible as he teetered on the precipice of consciousness. “… it’s the best.”

Y/N froze, her fingertips stilling their path over the smooth skin of his elbow. Heat bloomed over her cheeks, and she felt herself falling– hurdling, past the point of no return. Her heart was in trouble, and there was nothing she could do about it. Seokjin’s breathing became slow, mellowed, and his tail grew lax around her hips, and Y/N felt more awake than ever.

“Goodnight, Jin,” Y/N whispered upon deaf ears, and although she knew she’d be turning endless thoughts around her head for a while, it was nice to have someone to hold.

The next day, Y/N woke up by herself, but she expected as much. Unlike the first time she’d slept with Seokjin, she was relieved to not have him beside her as she woke up. It was probably best for her poor heart that she opened her eyes to just the indent of where his head had rested on her pillow, and she definitely had a bit of a champagne hangover that was currently pulsing through her skull as she watched Taehyung blow dust off of an old Led Zeppelin vinyl.

From her spot, laying haphazardly on the leather couch in the music room, she groggily passed a hand over her face as Taehyung murmured to himself, organizing his little collection of records in alphabetical order on the shelf.

“That’s a nice color on you, Tae,” Y/N complimented the Kodiak hybrid from her slumped position, lazily leaning over towards the coffee table to take a sip from her lukewarm coffee. He was wearing the cobalt blue v-neck long sleeve she had gotten for him, and it picked up the warm tones of his skin and eyes beautifully.

Taehyung ducked his head, a small smirk curving his lips, peering at Y/N through his peripherals. She noted that Taehyung was beginning to follow her around again, as he did prior to The Incident, so she was hoping that he was starting to move forward once more.

“Thank you,” his baritone voice still sent tingles down her spine, no matter how many times she heard it. “Where’s Yoongi? I thought he was supposed to be teaching you.”

“He wanted to take a shower after breakfast, he’ll breeze in any moment,” Y/N stretched her arms upwards, rolling her wrists like she had seen Yoongi doing before he’d start playing.

Taehyung nodded, criss-crossing his legs from his spot on the floor and curiously looking through some of the items on the shelf with the records. The shelf was mostly filled with her uncle’s old things; he was kind of an audiophile, and collected all sorts of musical equipment– Taehyung began to pull an ancient pair of Audio-Technica headphones nestled on top of a dusty radio, turning them over in his hands.

“I think you can use those with the turntable. My uncle used to hang out up here listening to records during family functions, and my grandmother had him wear those headphones so he wouldn’t disturb the Christmas party with Dio’s “Holy Diver”,” Y/N informed Taehyung, sitting up as she felt her phone buzzing away in her pocket. Eyebrows furrowing, she checked the screen– it was a number she didn’t recognize.

“Okay, I’m ready,” Yoongi stalked into the room, dressed in an acid-washed hoodie and dark jeans, his long hair damp and sticking to his cheeks. He paid Taehyung little to no mind, stepping around the Kodiak hybrid’s body as Taehyung tried to plug the headphones into the record player.

“One second, I’m gonna see who this is and then I’m all yours,” Y/N squeezed Yoongi’s hand on her way to slip out into the hall while holding up her phone, secretly hoping Yoongi would try to engage Taehyung in conversation in her absence. A girl could dream, after all.

“Hello?” Y/N traced her fingertips along the banister of the staircase, peering down into the foyer as she answered the call.

“Hi, is this Y/N? This is Ralph, from City of Boston Towing Impound Lot. I’m answering an inquiry from an email you sent earlier this week,” a gruff voice boomed from the other end of the line, the busy sounds of city life threatening to drown out his speech.

“Oh! Thank you for getting back to me so soon,” Y/N exclaimed, nervously tapping her foot. This was the last impound lot or junkyard to contact her back since she sent out several emails looking for Namjoon’s trailer on Monday, and her last hope to find it for him. “Any luck finding the trailer?”

“Well, we have one trailer in the lot, picked up during the timeframe you mentioned it was impounded. I’m not sure if it’s the one you’re looking for, though,” said Ralph, with a note of skepticism. “You didn’t give a description of the trailer, but this one is pretty beat up. Covered in moss, real old.”

“Um, okay. Can I ask a favor?” Y/N replied after a moment, sneaking into one of the unclaimed bedrooms that overlooked the backyard. Ralph grunted, Y/N scanning the backyard from the window to catch a glimpse of Namjoon, who she had last seen reading a book under the tree by the picnic table. To her relief, the wolf hybrid was still there, sitting in the grass and enjoying the shade. “Could you take a look inside? There should be tapes, lots of books. That’s how I’ll know it's the trailer I’m looking for, and if it is, I can pick it up sometime next week.”

There were noises of movement and heavy breathing on the other end of the phone, the jingling of keys, and the rusty sound of a door opening. Gnawing on her lower lip, Y/N prayed to the universe she’d finally get lucky, especially considering Namjoon’s birthday was fast approaching.

“Yep, there’s tapes and books alright. Looks like a nutcase was using this trailer, though, ma’am… all kinds of alien posters and… Christ, is that a picture of Bigfoot?” Ralph seemed amused, rifling through items in the trailer. Bingo.

“Ha, that’s me, the nutcase conspiracy theorist, and that’s my trailer! Can I pick it up next week?” Y/N fist-bumped the air, swearing to the sky she’d light a candle in thanks for the stroke of good luck. It was a miracle his trailer hadn’t been compacted at a junkyard yet.

“Yeah, you’ll have to pay a fee, though. Thing’s been collecting dust for a couple of weeks,” a surprised Ralph replied incredulously, to which Y/N expressed was of no issue. She hung up with glee, all but blowing a kiss to the wolf hybrid from the window for having so many identifying objects in his trailer.

Back in the music room, Yoongi was shuffling through a loose stack of sheet music, and Taehyung was lounging on his side on the floor, headphones on and a Soundgarden record on the turntable. Delighted that the Kodiak hybrid appeared to be staying while her and Yoongi had their lesson, Y/N skipped to the bench where Yoongi was sitting, promptly taking her seat beside him. Compared to last week, she was much more comfortable with being so close to the leopard hybrid, even finding it difficult to not lean into his sweet spiced warmth.

“Something good? Call from a boyfriend or something?” Yoongi raised an eyebrow at Y/N, using a pencil to scribble down musical notes on the staff paper. Taken so off guard, Y/N sharply snorted, covering her mouth with her hand.

“A boyfriend? Good one,” Y/N chortled, elbowing Yoongi lightly in the ribs. He screwed his mouth up, gauging her reaction, his eyes slitted. “When, exactly, would I find the time to date, angel? I’ve got my hands full with you all, at the moment.”

Yoongi cleared his throat, leaning over the sheet music so his hair curtained his face. Rolling her eyes, Y/N began to play the melody of Twinkle Twinkle, which she had mastered at an embarrassingly slow rate over the course of the week. Yoongi made a surprised purr in the back of his throat when she didn’t make any mistakes and was exactly on tempo, recovering from her retort.

“It was good news, however… looks like I found the perfect birthday present for Namjoon,” Y/N relented upon Yoongi’s silence, a smug smile on her face once she finished playing the melody. Perhaps, with the added motivation of wanting to please Yoongi, she had tried a bit harder with her piano practice than she would have otherwise.

“With how he acted last week, it better be a lump of coal,” Yoongi muttered, his spotted ears turning backwards against his skull as he placed the sheet music on the shelf above the ivory keys. “Alright, sweetheart. Great job practicing, I think you’re ready to learn some music theory; how to read notes.”

“Yes sir,” Y/N cracked her knuckles, narrowing her eyes at the line of notes Yoongi had penciled in on the staff paper. Taehyung yawned from across the room, singing quietly to the track he was listening to through his headphones, paired with the light crackling sound of the needle passing through the vinyl’s grooves. “Where do we start, teacher?”

Yoongi sucked his teeth, appearing to bite back laughter, before extending an index finger towards the staff paper.

“This is the treble clef, notes you’ll typically play with your right hand. There’s a mnemonic that can help you remember the order of the notes…”

Y/N listened closely, pressing each key down as he named them, enjoying the mid-morning sunshine through the windows and the company of the two hybrids. It was nice to share a love of music between the three of them, and Y/N had the faintest glimmer of hope that one day, her, Yoongi, and Taehyung could spend time together like this more often.

The following day, after learning a simple lullaby with Yoongi on the piano and ordering items for the hybrid’s rec center clubs online over a Friday night cocktail, Y/N woke up to a beautiful Saturday morning, complete with early autumn temperatures and golden sunlight. She started off the morning with a couple of texts.

Y/N: Morning, Namjoon! I think I want to do the protective wards around the property today- Saturdays are good for these kinds of rituals

Y/N: Does that work for you? I’m going to ask Jeongguk if he wants to help over breakfast :) oh, and pls wear black if you can

Y/N pulled on leggings and a loose, thin black sweater, taking soothing, deep breaths to center herself. The color black was associated with protection within her practice, and she’d made sure the ritual was performed on the best day of the week based on what her, Namjoon, and potentially Jeongguk were trying to accomplish. Her phone chimed as she heard a thump and a muted ‘fuck!’ from the other side of the wall, Y/N choking back a giggle at Namjoon’s clear stumble out of bed.

Jimin: Hi, Y/N, I put coffee on - Hoseok and I are going out back to work on the chicken coop this morning

Y/N: Sounds good! Thanks for making the coffee, make sure you and Hoseok wear sunscreen pls

Surprised that Hoseok had willingly gotten up so early, Y/N dared to peek out her bedroom slider to catch the fox or coyote hybrids heading to the back of the property, but caught nothing but the overgrown hedges taunting her for being such a poor landscaper. Tutting, she turned her attention back to stacking ritual items into a basket to carry outside, tuning into the sounds of the house coming alive with the hybrids moving about their morning routines– Jeongguk stomping into his bathroom, Namjoon fumbling about his bedroom and opening up one of his windows, the scent of Yoongi making bacon in the kitchen, and the sound of someone (Seokjin or Taehyung, perhaps) making their way down the stairs.

With everything she needed in her basket, Y/N set off for her morning cup of coffee. Passing by Namjoon’s bedroom door, it promptly creaked open as soon as she skipped by, Namjoon appearing with neatly combed-back silver hair and a tiny smile, contrary to the seemingly hectic start of his day Y/N had listened to on the other side of her bedroom wall.

“Morning,” Y/N greeted cheerfully, Namjoon’s tail swaying behind him as he shut his door and joined her in the hall.

Clearly, he had heeded her request to wear black; he had on black dress pants and shoes, along with a black wife beater and a dark gray cardigan pulled over it. Swallowing thickly, not used to seeing Namjoon in much else other than light earth tones, Y/N tried to push aside how attractive he looked in the dark outfit by averting her eyes to the foyer in front of her.

“Is there a reason behind wearing black for a protection ritual?” Namjoon asked her after repeating back her greeting, following her in the direction of the kitchen.

“It’s color magic– each color can represent a different element or intention. Traditionally, in witchcraft, the color black corresponds with protection and banishment. Think of it as an extra shield, absorbing any negativity we may encounter. Really, it's just another layer of insurance,” Y/N relayed, the wolf hybrid clinging onto every word.

His presence, while still a bit intimidating to Y/N with his height and musculature, radiated power. Perhaps, as her mother had begun to theorize at the cookout, Namjoon had practiced some kind of occult magic before… she still hadn’t had the courage to ask him. Maybe when she’d reunite him with his trailer, he’d be more comfortable opening up about himself to her.

“Do you think I can convince Jeongguk to help us?” Namjoon spoke again once they had made it to the kitchen, Y/N leaning against the coffee bar as she watched him fill up a mug for himself. “I thought he’d say something before now. If he’s dealt with these kinds of things before, wouldn’t he… sense that more needed to be done to break up the energy?”

“If you can’t convince him, I might be able to. However, I think he’s warming up to you, so let’s wait and see,” Y/N smirked, finding her mug of coffee on the island where Yoongi had already fixed it for her. The leopard hybrid himself appeared to be in the pantry; Y/N spotting the light of the closet on and a flash of his spotted tail from behind the half-closed door. “Also, there’s been a lot going on around here lately. He could have noticed but chose not to mention anything, but who’s to say.”

Namjoon’s cheeks grew a bit pink, nodding to himself and shuffling off to the breakfast nook with his coffee. Yoongi emerged from the pantry with a bag of dry pancake mix and the waffle iron, saying good morning to Y/N by catching her off guard and pulling her in for a side-hug. She could feel Namjoon gawking at her and Yoongi from the breakfast nook, a strange look on his face when she finally stole a glance of him, trying to shake off the tingles dancing down her spine at his steely expression.

“Any sign of Seokjin, Taehyung, or Jeongguk this morning?” Y/N cracked a couple of eggs into the bowl of waffle batter Yoongi was working on, reaching up to dust a bit of flour off of the leopard hybrid’s face. Blinking, Yoongi registered her question as her thumb brushed the debris off of the slope of his nose, licking his lips.

“Seokjin just joined Jimin and Hoseok outside, Taehyung is upstairs listening to records. No sign of the elk yet,” Yoongi murmured, resuming his task of stirring the waffle batter.

“Wow, you’re all up early today,” Y/N remarked, noticing Namjoon going through the contents of the basket of ritual items curiously. “What do you two think about going out to dinner tonight? There’s a brewery in town, good pub food. I can ask Alice if she’s free, too– we’ve been meaning to go together.”

“Sounds good to me,” Yoongi mused, pouring batter into the hot waffle iron. “I could go for some wings and beer. We don’t have many groceries, anyways.”

“Who’ll drive, if we all drink?” Namjoon frowned at Y/N, a bundle of rosemary in one of his fists.

“We’ll take a cab,” Y/N wanted to childishly stick her tongue out at the wolf hybrid, but managed to keep it together. “Don’t worry, I’m not that irresponsible, Joon.”

Namjoon immediately clammed up, hastily placing the bundle of rosemary back into the basket and turning to stare out the window. Yoongi’s tail smacked the back of her thigh, predictably, and Y/N was about to flick him in the shoulder when she smelt a cloud of smoke enter the room. Once checking to make sure the waffle iron wasn’t up in flames, she relaxed, when the cloud of smoke came with familiar notes of leather and musk.

“Hey Jeongguk, hungry?” Y/N spun on her heel, pleased to see the elk hybrid already dressed in his signature all-black attire, eyeing Namjoon and the basket on the breakfast nook suspiciously.

Y/N bit her lip, noticing Jeongguk was wearing the necklace her parents got him for his birthday– the sword pendant indeed resting perfectly between his clavicles above the loose collar of his Metallica tee shirt. Additionally, it looked like his velvet had finally stopped shedding; his antlers completely bare and his face and hair free from any caked-on blood droplets. Ignoring Y/N, he stalked over to Namjoon and the mysterious basket, Y/N able to see a bit of the tattoo on his back that creeped up the nape of his neck due to the looseness of his shirt. She wondered exactly what the tattoo depicted, as she had only seen a brief, hurried glimpse of it before. It was hard to make out with only about an inch of it exposed at the present moment, and she certainly felt like she was leering at the poor elk hybrid.

“What’s this for, Y/N? Not planning on doing another ritual to attract demons to the house, are you?” Jeongguk asked dryly, a note of bemusement coloring his tone. Yoongi grumbled from beside her, slicing through the flesh of a strawberry a little too aggressively.

“We’re placing wards around the property today. You and I didn’t do that the night banished that entity from the house, and both Y/N and I noticed that the energy still seems off,” Namjoon answered for Y/N, looking thankful for the elk hybrid’s arrival in the kitchen.

“Yeah, I know. You two aren’t exactly quiet or subtle when discussing this shit,” Jeongguk sunk into the breakfast nook across from Namjoon, fiddling with a stray cigarette poised behind his ear. “You want me to help, right?”

“Only if you’re willing,” Y/N piped up, obviously not wanting to force Jeongguk to hang out with her and Namjoon.

“I’ll come out with you. I want to know why this thing is so persistent, anyways,” Jeongguk waved an inked hand, flicking through his phone disinterestedly.

“Great, it won’t take long,” Y/N grinned, her phone once again buzzing a hole in her pocket. Before she could excuse herself to take the call, Yoongi caught her by the hem of her sweater.

“Before you go out there, I want you to have some breakfast, okay?” Yoongi stared at her gravelly, Y/N nodding dumbly as he clicked his tongue and released her.

She answered the phone call from her dad out on the front porch, hopefully away from eavesdropping hybrid ears. Thankfully, he agreed to a favor she had asked of him and her mother; to go together and pick up Namjoon’s trailer and store it at their house until his birthday, as she’d be a bit busy the following week between getting herself to work and each hybrid to their clubs at the rec center and library. Relieved to have most of the plans for the wolf hybrid’s special day out of the way, she tucked her phone back into her pocket and headed back into the house to scarf down breakfast, clean up, and retreat outside to place the wards with Namjoon and Jeongguk.

“What’s your plan? Banging pots and pans, making salt lines?” Jeongguk asked over a drag of cigarette, gazing out at the small pond in the backyard distractedly.

There was a definite breeze in the air; one that carried the scent of sun-scorched grass and smoke coming from the neighbor’s chimneys. Y/N chose to let Jeongguk’s sarcasm amuse rather than annoy her, setting up a sort-of “center” of a circle for the ritual on a large, flat rock by the pond. It was smack-dab in the middle of the property, so it was a good place as any to focus the protective energy and send it outwards.

“Putting salt on the grass and soil is a no-go, it’ll kill everything. And banging pots only works in the house and if you’re dealing with a simple human spirit,” Y/N set up a large black pillar candle on the rock, using the end of a sewing needle to inscribe protective sigils she’d created when she was a teen into the wax. “We’ll use a combination of smoke cleansing with a simple prayer, and burying these protective jars in the four corners of the property. If this doesn’t work, we’re looking at a banishment ritual on the New Moon, at the end of this month.”

Lighting the candle with a match, Y/N mumbled a prayer to her spirit guides for additional protection and assistance. Standing from her crouched position, she handed out a bundle of rosemary to both hybrids behind her, as well as a tiny spell vial she had pre-prepared to bury at each corner of the property.

“Okay, Jeongguk, Joon– you two can take the front two corners of the property and halfway up either side. I’ll do the backyard, and meet you back here when we’re done,” Y/N passed her bundle of rosemary through the flame of the candle to light it– Namjoon mimicking the action– while Jeongguk used the lit end of his cigarette to ignite his own bundle with an air of indifference. “So here’s the prayer, just recite it as you see fit, and use your hand to waft the smoke around the edges of the property. When you reach a corner, just use a stick to dig a little hole and drop the spell jar into it, cover it, and come back here after. I think that’ll do it.”

Y/N equipped the two of them with a scrap of paper with a small prayer on it each, knowing that both of the hybrids were clear on the directions based on how they listened with intensity. It was quite nerve-wracking to have such close attention from both Namjoon and Jeongguk at once, but her heart felt warm knowing that they’d both willingly come outside with her to help out.

“Be careful, Y/N. Shout if anything happens, and we’ll be there,” Namjoon surprisingly laid a tender hand over her shoulder, bending low so he could look directly into her eyes, while Jeongguk had begun to purposefully stride away towards the front-right end of the property with the smoking rosemary already raised in his fist in a swaying motion.

“You too, Joon,” Y/N patted his hand over her shoulder, giving him a reassuring smile. With that, he departed with a flicker of his half-bitten ear, and Y/N hoped that the protection ritual would go by without an issue. In all of the similar rituals she had performed in the past, they’d gone off without a hitch, but something was tugging at her gut, annoyingly so.

Y/N made sure the sigil-carved candle was well sheltered against the wind before heading off towards one of the back corners of the yard, steeling herself as she went. While she felt centered, this was the first formal ritual she was conducting since picking her practice back up again, so she definitely felt a bit of beginner’s nerves.

Crossing the bridge by the “guesthouse”, Y/N happily waved to Jimin, Hoseok, and Seokjin, who were in the middle of pulling rusty chicken wire down from around the coop, tools scattered around the beaten-down earth. Jimin looked positively in his element; his golden hair shining in the early morning sunshine, and once again her heart squeezed looking at him.

“Y/N! Good morning! What are you up to?” Hoseok hollered, his ears fluttering playfully as he tore down a section of chicken wire with ease. Y/N decided to pause, considering she’d have to smoke out the stable for the ritual, as well, shuffling over to the dilapidated chicken coop and the three hybrids surrounding it.

“Morning, you three,” Y/N greeted, using her free hand to brush some dirt off of the light material of Jimin’s linen shirt, able to smell the unique combination of his lavender shampoo and perspiration due to the proximity. As always, Jimin maintained intense, unrelenting eye contact with her, his butterscotch irises sparkling.

“What’s up?” Hoseok repeated, glancing pointedly at the burning bundle of herbs in her hand.

“Just doing a little protection magic. Namjoon and Jeongguk are helping, too,” Y/N replied, following the fox hybrid and Jimin into the stable. Jimin was telling Hoseok to stack up the old, rusted chicken wire in one of the vacant stable stalls.

Y/N wafted rosemary smoke around the old building, admiring the way beams of sunlight filtered through the weathered slats of the roof. She couldn’t wait to see how Jimin would fix it up, and planned on using every spare minute of her free time helping him. If they could get everything squared away before November, when the frost would begin to crystalize the backyard, they could definitely board horses throughout the winter. Y/N knew that having horses in the stable would make Jimin happy, and that was all she wanted, truthfully. Honestly, the possibility of extra income paled in comparison to the idea of bringing Jimin joy, and seeing his pretty smile.

“Y/N, would it be alright if I come into town with you on Monday? There’s a few things we’ll be needing right away to repair the corral and some of the stalls, maybe we could go to the hardware store after your shift?” Jimin approached her after several moments, leaning his hip against an ancient looking ladder leading up to the stable loft.

“Yeah, that’s totally fine,” Y/N grinned, trying her best to direct the rosemary smoke away from Jimin’s face. “I think, in order to accomplish that, I’ll have to drop you off with Seokjin and Namjoon at the library for the afternoon, is that okay with you?”

“Of course,” Jimin replied immediately, returning her grin. Jimin was so effortlessly gorgeous, even after performing manual labor in the thick humidity all morning, it took her aback. “I’ve already read The Stranger, before, so I think I’ll be able to hold my own in the book club while I wait for you.”

Y/N was struck once more with how extensive the coyote hybrid’s taste in literature was. Sure, Namjoon definitely came across as very bookish, but Jimin seemed to be an equally avid reader. She never even asked him if he wanted to join her mother’s book club, which would pretty much be a perfect fit for him.

“Wow, I think you’ll make my mom’s month come Monday,” Y/N chuckled, reaching out to give Jimin’s shoulder a fond pat and squeeze. He leaned into the touch, once again flashing her an Oscar-worthy smile, his sandy ears fluttering delightedly. “Sounds like a plan. I’ll be able to come out here tomorrow and Tuesday to help you with anything, too.”

Jimin had followed her around the stable as she both conversed with him and smoke cleansed the area, until the pair of them made it back outside and Y/N figured it was time to move on. Before she left the three hybrids, she asked Seokjin how his morning was going; his cheeks flushed from the heat and exercise and shy purr leaving his chest. Between the three hybrids milling about the chicken coop, Y/N felt her heart swelling, each of them so focused on their tasks it helped her to re-center, wanting to make sure they were all well protected by the wards she was placing.

Paired with Hoseok’s bright laughter and Seokjin’s grounding energy, Y/N felt invigorated to move further past the stable and to the slightly forested area where she would bury her first spell jar.

Fanning rosemary smoke around as she walked with her free hand, Y/N chewed her lip as she noticed a storm cloud darkened her half of the yard ominously, the temperature seemingly dropping and wind picking up. She couldn’t decide if she was simply overanalyzing natural occurrences or if something was stirring now that she was taking action, but she was unsettled to say the least.

Reaching the left-hand corner of the property, Y/N knelt to dig the hole for her first spell jar, placing the burning rosemary on a stray boulder while she recited the prayer from memory. She had just plopped the jar into the earth, when every hair on the back of her neck rose to attention, and a whispery voice from behind curdled her insides.

“If you dare…”

Taglist; @blancflms @grazysf @sbromp @jaxavance @sunderlight @ot7nem @mageprincess7 @wittyreader @drenix004 @mayla548 @skyys-universe @ddaeng-angmoh @trtlthts @exfolitae @kalala22 @xiusmarshmallow @bangtans-momma @zae007live @paigetj @singukieee @serendididy @lilacdreams-00 @dreamerwasfound @ninjacups @osakis-gf @itwillbealways-d @xthefuckerysquaredx @momowantscats @molshole @gooooomz @uarmyhore @lopprhe @oopscoop @xicanacorpse @i-like-anime13 @hemziii @demarie04 @im-sinking-in-mud @talkyoongitome @bangtxnbxunch @primrose2507 @kihyunniesmonbebe @lilmxchis @7evensin @00ihatesnaku @neverthefirstchoice

Please do not repost or translate my work. Thank you!

#bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #bts ot7 x reader #hybrid au #bts ot7 x y/n #bts hybrid au #bts fic #bts au #bts hybrid x reader #bts hybrid fanfic #namjoon fanfic #seokjin fanfic #yoongi fanfic #hoseok fanfic #jimin fanfic #taehyung fanfic #jungkook fanfic

742 notes · View notes

thenatashamaximoff · 2 years ago

Text

Heart Of Stone; Ch. 3

Summary: After decades of being HYDRA’s most prized possession, you’re finally free and find yourself under the protective eye of the Avengers. But with a piece of one of the Infinity Stones embedded into your heart, you’re never truly safe…

Pairing: Wanda x Reader

Warnings: mentions of death, mind control, panic/anxiety attacks

Words: 22,897

✎ | დ

a/n: The add-ons are not necessary to be read to understand what's going on, but they are very subtly mentioned (the "what if" ones are not canon). You're not missing anything if you don't read them, I promise you. However, the events of the main storyline will be mentioned and will connect with this chapter. It's been a long time since we've been here. If y'all need a refresher, I recommend rereading them. Also, don't be afraid to comment! Your thoughts and opinions always motivate me to write more. ┌─────────────ᗢ─────────────┐ @diaryoflife @women-am-i-right @creatively-analytical @obsessed-with-wandamaximoff @beforeoursecrets @iliketozoneout @olsensnpm @hoefnagel521 @chasingmaximoff @unrealskye └─────────────ᗢ─────────────┘ ┌─────────────∞─────────────┐ @myfavoriteficss @pinkytoecrust @cyncity32 @peachbear88 @magicallymaximoff @therealmeari @peggycarter-steverogers @ba-romanoff @natashabelovas @morbid-gaymer @reminiscingtonight @when-wolves-howl @idontknownemore @natashasilverfox @sayah13 @fuxk182 @scarletwitchofthewilds @natashamaximoff69 @wuwu96 @jsonebraincell @whendarknessturns @marvel4liferz @red1culous @cd-4848 @theperfectlovestory └─────────────∞─────────────┘

2023 You took it with you when you left. And, for the longest time, it wandered lost and wounded; the heart that she misplaced. But it didn’t give up. It kept beating, albeit with a dull ache, as it searched for a place where it could belong once again. It encountered moments of despair and moments of hope, but it never stopped yearning for the one who had taken it away. Through trials and tribulations, the heart carried on, fueled by the memories of a love that had once been so strong yet so… incomplete. A love that had never gotten the chance to blossom into its full potential. The scars left by the absence of that love were etched deep within, a constant reminder of what could have been.

And, just when it had almost given up hope, destiny intervened, leading the heart on a path of an unexpected reunion, where it would finally find solace and healing in the most astonishing way.

“Do you know what a… a supernova is?” She couldn’t help but smile at your soft-spoken question, and it was extremely easy for her to turn her gaze away from the night sky to look at the side of your face. How untroubled you were in this moment, relaxed in a state of bliss that was nearly contagious. She couldn’t help but feel a sense of calm wash over her as she gazed at you, her healing heart beating steadily in her chest. “When a star… A star can run out of fuel, and that triggers a series of- of explosive events.” She could feel her stomach flip when your cheeks stretched against your lips as a smile formed. “It can briefly outshine an… entire galaxy.”

“Tell me more.” Her voice was lower than yours, a mere breath in the scant space between you and her, but she knew you heard her when your grin only grew wider.

“It marks the end of a- a star’s life,” you continued, “but it also creates new… elements that can be used to form new stars and… and planets.” Finally, you turned your head to meet her gaze, and she had to fight every fiber in her being to not close the little distance. “The end of something old, but… the beginning of something new. Like a… a rewritten story.”

No need for her to utter a sound, no need to fill the new quiet with meaningless words. Instead, she preferred to simply enjoy the view, to bask in the beauty of you. Your face, illuminated by the moonlight, gave you an ethereal aura. The soft light of the stars embraced you as if they were shining solely for you, creating an image of a heavenly being in her mind.

“You could be an angel.” The whispered words slipped past her lips before she even realized it, and she saw your expression change. Your features, once warm and relaxed, now creased with wrinkles of confusion. Your eyebrows knitted together, and your head tilted slightly, but a faint smile still lingered on your lips. However, the uncertainty in your eyes was unmistakable.

“But I… I don’t want to die, Wanda…” you said softly, your voice tinged with a mix of curiosity and concern.

Her throat constricted almost as tight as her heart did when she gasped lightly at your words, a thin yet obvious layer of tears glossing over her eyes. She found herself inching toward you on the blanket, desperate to get close enough for your nose to brush across hers. “You won’t,” she declared, the bewilderment riddling your features washing away at the determination in her voice. “Nothing will happen to you. Nothing will ever hurt you.” She shook her head, swallowing a mouthful of saliva thickly. “I won’t let it, dove.”

She leaned forward, but her movements were interrupted by the appearance of your hand in front of her face. Her eyebrows furrowed tightly together, confusion washing over her like water, yet it was all dried out when she noticed all of your fingers tucked into a fist, with your pinky standing tall and proud. “Do you… promise?”

A soft smile lifted the corners of her lips as she wrapped her pinky around yours tightly. “I promise I’ll keep you safe.” As you nodded, her eyes fluttered closed long before she pressed her lips against yours in a deep kiss that ignited a fire in her soul. She broke the hold your pinky had on hers to move her hand toward you, the tips of her fingers gently caressing your jawline in a delicate touch. The tenderness of her gesture sent a shiver down your spine as if her fingertips carried a soothing warmth that spread throughout your body.

In that moment, it felt as if time stood still. The world faded away around her, replaced by a sense of peace and security. It was just the two of you, connected by the gentle touch of her hand and the soft, passionate pressure of your lips. And, even when you parted to catch your breath, her fingers remained, eyes locked in a hypnotic trance.

Her touch spoke volumes in the silence, conveying a depth of love and affection that words couldn’t fully capture. It was a dialect only the two of you understood, a silent conversation that transcended the boundaries of spoken language.

“I… I want to stay here. With… you. My Wanda.” Your eyes somehow sparkled brighter in the darkness, making the stars above envy your shine. The vulnerability in your voice tugged at her heart, and a gentle smile graced her mouth. She brushed the pad of her thumb across your bottom lip, featherlight yet warm all the same. “I like… the stars.” Your movement was reluctant, not wanting to turn from her touch, yet you ultimately returned your gaze to the night sky above. Wanda’s heart swelled with a mixture of adoration and longing.

She shifted closer, her body pressing against yours as if to bridge the gap between the stars and your souls. Her voice was barely a whisper, filled with an unwavering determination and tenderness, “Then let’s stay.” She wanted to feel you, to relish in the warmth a single touch brings. She brought her hand back up, tracing gentle circles on your cheek. The chills that overtook your body caused you to shiver underneath her fingertip, and she smiled softly at you when you pulled your attention away from the stars to meet her gaze. “Right here.”

Your lips pursed together, your eyes unmoving as your mind raced through words. “Aren’t you… tired?”

“No, my dove,” she answered warmly, her voice filled with affection. “I want to hear more about the stars.” As her words danced through the air, she couldn’t help but feel her stomach twist with joy. The way your eyes lit up, a radiant smile spreading across your face, was a sight that made her heart skip a beat.

You extended your arm, a silent invitation for Wanda to move closer, and instinctively she leaned into you. But instead of resting her head against your shoulder, she nestled her ear over your chest, finding solace in the rhythmic thumping that reverberated through her being. It was as if she sought refuge in the steady cadence, the comforting song that echoed within your body. When you spoke, your voice was low and husky, “Some stars are so far away that… that their light takes thousands of years to… reach us.” The steady beat in her ear, your lulling voice in the other, she felt a profound sense of calm and tranquility. Every word that slipped from your lips was like a gentle caress to her soul, painting vivid pictures of serenity and peace. “We’re actually gazing into the past… Seeing the remnants of… the stars long gone.”

Wanda’s fingers gently intertwined with yours, deepening the connection between you and her. “Show me some constellations.”

Gently, you guided Wanda’s hand, pointing to the night sky speckled with stars. Your fingers traced invisible lines, connecting the celestial dots to form constellations. “There…” you said softly, your voice filled with a mix of enthusiasm and admiration. “That cluster is… Orion. The hunter. Do you see how the three stars in the… middle form his belt?”

Wanda’s eyes followed your guidance, her gaze fixed on the starry canvas above. She leaned in closer as if trying to capture every detail of the constellations you were unveiling. “And what about that one?” she asked, her voice filled with curiosity, as her fingers traced the outline of a different group of stars.

“That’s… Ursa Major,” you replied, your voice holding a touch of wonder, “the Great Bear. The seven stars that form the… the Big Dipper- They’re part of it.”

Gradually, the tranquility of the night and the lilting beat of the drumming in your chest began to soothe Wanda into a peaceful slumber. Exhaustion weighed heavy on her, but in your embrace, she found solace and safety. With a gentle sigh, her eyes slid closed, her head nestling further against you. Your heartbeat, the steady rhythm that had provided her comfort through the night, now served as a lullaby, lulling her deeper into sleep.

Your ancient tales of the stars faded to a pause when you looked down at her, a soft smile tugging your lips as you watched the rise and fall of her chest with each tranquil breath. The sky above continued to twinkle as if keeping watch over the two of you, the celestial light casting a gentle glow upon your peaceful tableau.

Carefully, you adjusted your position, ensuring Wanda was comfortable against you, as you leaned your head against the warm blanket beneath you. You gazed up at the stars that had become witnesses to your love story, and, as the night embraced you both, you surrendered to its tender embrace, knowing that tomorrow would bring new adventures, new constellations to discover, and a love that would continue to shine brightly… just like the stars above.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ᗢ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Wanda’s eyes fluttered open, greeted by the gentle caress of sunlight on her face. As her surroundings came into focus, she found herself sitting on the blanket, her fingers absentmindedly tracing the fabric beneath her. A sense of disorientation washed over her as she realized the space beside her was empty.

Brows furrowed with confusion, she searched the immediate vicinity, hoping to catch a glimpse of your familiar presence. But all she found were the remnants of the night’s stargazing adventures, the memories still fresh in her mind.

A soft sigh escaped her lips as she recalled the warmth of your embrace, the comforting thump of your heartbeat, and the whispered words that had filled the air. Had it all been a dream? The doubt lingered, tugging at her heartstrings. Questions swirled in her mind as she tried to make sense of the situation. Had you left while she was lost in slumber? Was it all just a figment of her imagination, a manifestation of her longing and desire?

As she rose to her feet, determination mingled with trepidation in Wanda’s gaze. She turned her attention towards the front of the house behind her, her eyes scanning the windows in search of a glimpse of you. Her stomach twisted with anticipation, knowing that the next few moments held the answer to her unspoken question.

Leaving the blanket behind, a testament to the fleeting moments shared, Wanda made her way toward the quaint home. Each step felt like an eternity, yet she couldn’t help but feel drawn to the possibility that awaited her inside. Reaching the front door, her trembling hand grasped the doorknob. With a deep breath, she turned it and pushed it open, allowing the familiar creaking sound to fill the air. The weight of her anticipation was palpable as she stepped across the threshold, her eyes daring around the still room.

“Y/N?” Her voice was barely a whisper, catching in her throat as she called out your name. The silence that followed was deafening, echoing the emptiness that mirrored her heart. It threatened to swallow her whole, fueling the fear that she was too late, that you had slipped away.

But then, a sound reached her ears. A clanging noise emanated from the kitchen, a hint of life amidst the stillness. Her pulse quickened, and a glimmer of hope sparkled within her. With renewed determination, she followed the sound, her steps becoming more assured with each passing moment.

Rounding the corner, her eyes fell upon you. And there you stood, amidst the chaos of bubbling pots and sizzling pans, a concentrated expression on your face - seen underneath the smudges of flour coloring your complexion - as you were oblivious to her arrival. Smoke wafted through the air from the burnt bacon that sat on the hot stove, and it was then that Wanda noticed the broken fire alarm sitting next to the sink, silent and useless.

Amusement washed over her as she took in the scene, crossing her arms over her chest and leaning against the doorway. A playful smile danced on her lips as she watched you navigate the confusion of the kitchen, your movements an uneven blend of purpose and panic. Pots and pans clanged, ingredients were scattered haphazardly, the nose-burning smell of charred meat… There was a certain charm in the disarray.

She observed your furrowed brow and the occasional look of perplexity that flickered across your face. It was evident that this culinary endeavor was challenging, but your enthusiasm remained unwavering. She couldn’t help but be captivated by your perseverance to tackle something new, even if it resulted in a temporary state of chaos.

As you reached for a spice jar, knocking over a measuring cup in the process, Wanda couldn’t contain her laughter. The sound echoed through the kitchen, filling the room with contagious joy. The sound brought a momentary pause to your frantic activity, causing you to look up and meet her gaze. And though your eyebrows shot up in shock, it seemed as if her presence brought a sense of calm amidst the culinary storm.

An embarrassed smile tugged your lips as your arms fell to your side, looking down while she walked further into the room. “I- I wanted to… surprise you.” You rested your hands on the counter, digging your thumb nervously into your palm. Wanda’s laughter subsided, replaced by a tender expression. “You… You cook for me all the time. I wanted to…” You huffed, shaking your head and, though she couldn’t see it, she could see the signs that your bottom lip jutted out in a pout. “I’m… I’m not very good at it. Maybe I should just… stick to peanut butter sandwiches.”

She rounded the island, placing a delicate hand over your nervous ones upon reaching you as she swiftly flicked the stove top off. “It’s not about the perfect meal, my dove. It’s about the effort and intention behind it.” You looked up at her through your lashes, and seeing the warm smile on her face caused you to relax further. “And, in my eyes… you’re already succeeding.”

Your posture straightened with newfound determination. The embarrassment that had made a home on your face washed away as a bright smile turned that frown upside down. “Will you… teach me?” The words slipped from your lips, laced with eagerness and vulnerability. Wanda’s eyes softened as she looked at the culinary disaster spread out on the counter - from the charred strips of bacon to the watery pancakes sitting on a plate - and she nodded her head in agreement.

“After we clean up,” she offered with a soft laugh, her voice gentle and reassuring. Her hand moved from yours to rest against your cheek, her touch both comforting and electrifying. The warmth of her palm against your skin sent a shiver down your spine, and you couldn’t help but lean into her touch, reveling in the affectionate connection between you. Her thumb moved in soft circles, wiping away some of the flour painting your features.

With a shared understanding, you both set aside the wreckage of your cooking attempt and began the task of cleaning up. It became a shared endeavor, a dance of laughter and gentle touches as you worked side by side, turning a chaotic kitchen into a space of order and cleanliness.

As the last dish was placed in its rightful spot, Wanda turned towards you, a playful glimmer in her eyes. “Now, let the real culinary adventure begin,” she claimed, your face lighting up with excitement.

You watched carefully as she turned the stove back on, the flame flickering to life beneath the burner. She grabbed the pan and placed it on the now-heated surface, the metal hissing with anticipation. With a graceful motion, she picked up a few strips of bacon and expertly placed them onto the skillet, the sound of the sizzle filling the kitchen.

Your eyes were fixed on her hands, marveling at the precision and confidence with which she handled the task. Each movement was deliberate as if she had done this a hundred times before. It was a simple act, cooking bacon, but the way she did it made it seem like a work of art.

As the aroma of crackling bacon filled the air, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of admiration for Wanda’s skills. She had effortlessly transformed a chaotic kitchen into a space of culinary magic, and you were grateful to be a witness to her expertise. A smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you leaned against the countertop, content to watch her work her magic. The clattering of pots and pans, the occasional laughter, and the tantalizing scent of cooking filled the air, creating a symphony of domestic bliss.

In that moment, it didn’t matter that the pancakes had been watery or that the fire alarm had been broken. What mattered was the connection between you, the shared experience of learning and growing together. And as you watched Wanda cook, you knew that every adventure would be an opportunity to strengthen your bond and create beautiful memories. Together, you would navigate the world, supporting each other, laughing at the mishaps, and savoring the delicious results. It was a journey you were excited to embark on, hand in hand, knowing that with Wanda by your side, every day would be a celebration of love, passion, and shared experiences.

As Wanda turned off the stove and stacked the dirty dishes into the sink (once again), a realization struck you. Lost in the mesmerizing sight of her, you hadn’t paid attention to the details or learned anything from her culinary expertise. The awareness brought a sheepish smile to your face.

With an amused smirk, Wanda met your gaze, her eyes twinkling with mirth. It was as if she were reading your thoughts this very moment, knowing that you had been too captivated by her presence to absorb any practical knowledge. She took a step closer, her hands gently cradling your face. She couldn’t help it, thriving on the way your touch warms her insides.

“Why don’t you go freshen up while the food cools down?” she proposed, her voice filled with affection and a hint of playfulness. Her suggestion was accompanied by a tender gesture, her thumbs moving in delicate circles against your skin. The intimacy of the moment made your heart skip a beat, and you found yourself getting lost in the deep emeralds of her eyes, feeling a connection that went beyond words.

You nodded in agreement, appreciating her for just a moment longer before taking the opportunity to collect yourself after the whirlwind of emotions and sensations. As you turned your head towards the kitchen door, you couldn’t resist stealing a quick glance at Wanda, admiring her in that moment. The way her eyes crinkled at the corners, the soft curves of her lips, and the gentle touch of her hands on your face - they were all reminders of the affection and tenderness you shared.

A light laugh parted her mouth after you stole a sneaky kiss before making your way out of the room.

With a couple of fixed plates in her hands and a hint of intrigue in her eyes, Wanda set aside the task of arranging the meal and walked toward the front of the house. The knock grew slightly louder, slightly more impatient, as she approached the door, filling her with curiosity. When she opened it, a soft smile formed on the Sokovian’s lips, yet the unfamiliar face didn’t sate her confusion.

“Hello, dear.” The woman beamed widely, a potted plant held carelessly in her hands. “I’m Agnes, your neighbor to the right.” Wanda’s soft smile strengthened at the friendly greeting. “Forgive me for not stopping by sooner to welcome you to the block! My mother-in-law was in town, so I wasn’t.” She walked further into the house, plopping the housewarming gift into Wanda’s arms. “What’s your name? Where are you from? And, most importantly, what is that fantastic smell?”

“Well, I’m Wanda.”

“Wanda. Charmed.” Agnes chuckled softly as she looked around. “Golly, you settled in fast! Did you use a moving company?”

“I sure did,” Wanda claimed, quickly nodding as she placed the plant on the table. “Those boxes certainly didn’t move themselves.” She wiped her hands across the front of her shirt, watching Agnes lean forward slightly, her eyes sparkling with interest.

“So, what’s a single gal like you doing rattling around this big house?”

Wanda’s cheeks flushed ever so slightly, her mind briefly wandering to you just upstairs. “Oh, no. I’m not single,” she replied, her voice a touch softer.

Agnes raised an eyebrow playfully, her gaze shifting to Wanda’s left hand as she sat down on the couch. “I don’t see a ring,” the neighbor pointed out.

The Sokovian cleared her throat, her cheeks growing warmer. “Well, I- I assure you I’m happily married.” She placed her hands on her hips in hopes of hiding her fingers, though she knew there was no use now. “As a matter of fact, she’s just upstairs.”

“Wands, I-” The two women turned their heads at the sound of your approach, and you froze in the middle of the stairs upon making eye contact with Agnes. Wanda was quick to move toward you, catching one of your hands before you could bother the scar marking your palm to gently tug you down the rest of the way as the unknown woman stood up respectfully. Your lips seemed to glue shut the moment you processed the guest, your hand squeezing Wanda’s fingers.

“The woman of the hour!” Agnes announced, stepping up to you. “Always in the know, that’s me. How are you, dear?” She laughed heartily, and you glanced at Wanda uneasily, who was looking at you with care and concern. Agnes’s eyes sparkled with amusement as she beamed at you with the widest smile you had ever seen on a stranger. “Aren’t you a precious little thing,” she claimed, tapping the tip of your nose in a quick and unexpected move that caught you off guard. “I could just eat you up!”

You took a small step to the side, instinctively trying to protect your nose from further attacks, and peeked over Wanda’s shoulder, hoping to find some sort of shield from Agnes’s playful teasing. “Please don’t…” you whispered, and her robust chuckle told you she heard you.

“Oh, don’t worry, dear. I don’t eat people.” A smirk played at the side of her lips, leaning forward slightly as she added in a low voice, “At least, not anymore.”

Feeling a surge of apprehension, your hand squeezed Wanda’s gently once more, seeking comfort and support. Sensing your need, she cleared her throat, redirecting Agnes’s attention back to her. “Y/N and I were just about to sit down for breakfast,” the Sokovian clarified, her voice steady and composed.

The neighbor’s eyes lit up with curiosity, and she nodded in understanding. “Ah, breakfast! Well, I wouldn’t want to interrupt such a delicious affair! I’ll leave you two lovebirds to enjoy your meal.” She winked mischievously, her playful demeanor evident. “But remember, if you ever need anything, don’t hesitate to knock on my door. I’m just to the right.” You stayed behind Wanda as your eyes followed the retreating woman, watching her pull open the door as she turned to face the two of you. “My right, not yours!” She chuckled softly this time as she stepped out, leaving you and Wanda alone.

The witch turned to you, a gentle expression on her face. “Are you okay?” Her fingers intertwined with yours as you nodded, chewing the inside of your cheek. “Did you want to do something today?” Wanda used her hold on you to tug you to the table, leaving you to take your own seat for a brief moment before she returned with the two plates piled with the food she had cooked moments before the interruption.

“Can… Nat come over?” Your hopeful eyes met her bright green ones almost instantly as you picked up a fork. “I… I want her to see our… home.”

Wanda could feel her posture weaken as her shoulders sagged at your question, her bottom lip finding its way in between her teeth as you turned your attention to the food in front of you. “Oh, sweetheart…” She eyed you carefully. “She’s not in the country, you know that.” The prongs of your fork poked at the slices of toast on your plate, and she could feel the sharp tug of her heart at the sight of your frown. She reached toward you, placing her hand gently over yours to offer comfort. “I know how much you miss her,” she said, her voice filled with empathy. “I miss her, too, but she’s on a mission. We have to respect that.” Her thumb traced soothing circles on the back of your hand, trying to ease the disappointment you felt. “How about we take a walk this afternoon?” she continued, her tone growing more cheerful.

Your eyes brightened a little, and a small smile tugged at the corners of your lips. “That… sounds nice,” you replied, your voice carrying a glimmer of enthusiasm. “Just the… two of us, right?”

Wanda’s grin matched yours as she squeezed your hand gently. “Of course,” she stated. “We can even go to that little place we went to the other day. What was it called again?” Her heart skipped a beat when your small smile grew wide, a comfortable knot forming in her stomach when you flipped your hand over to intertwine your fingers through hers. It was the source of the warmth radiating throughout her entire body.

“For… For Art’s Sake?” She couldn’t help but chuckle softly at your enthusiasm, wondering how it was possible for a human to hold more light than the sun. “I… We can go?”

“Anything for you, my dove.” She moved her hand to rest her palm against your cheek in a delicate touch, feeling just how quickly she relaxed when you leaned against her.

With renewed optimism, you picked up your fork and resumed eating, savoring each bite of the delicious meal. As you enjoyed the breakfast together, the anticipation of exploring the neighborhood filled the air, creating a sense of excitement and possibility. In that moment, you knew that no matter what the day had in store, being with Wanda was all you needed to make it special.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ᗢ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

As the afternoon sun painted the neighborhood in golden hues, you and Wanda embarked on a leisurely stroll down the charming streets, reveling in the beauty of your new surroundings. Towering trees line the sidewalks, their branches swaying softly in the breeze. The houses, adorned with charming facades and well-tended gardens, exuded a sense of warmth and tranquility.

A symphony of colors greets your eyes as vibrant flowers bloom in every yard, splashing the landscape with nature’s artwork. Roses in various shades whispered sweet scents, while daisies and tulips danced in the morning light. The air was alive with the melodic chirping of birds, their songs interweaving harmoniously to create a serene soundtrack.

But Wanda’s attention wasn’t captured by the picturesque scenery alone. Her gaze was fixed on you, captivated by the way you eagerly absorbed every detail around you. She didn’t fight the feeling, becoming enchanted by the way your eyes darted from one beautiful sight to another, like a child in a candy store. She smiled warmly, filled with affection as she observed the way your features sparkled with excitement. The gentle breeze tousled your hair, and she couldn’t help but be drawn to the way your face lit up with joy. It was in these simple moments that she found herself falling in love with you all over again.

“Witnessing the world through your eyes is a gift,” Wanda murmured, her voice filled with admiration. “You have an incredible ability to find wonder in the smallest things.”

You turned to her, a bright grin gracing your lips. “It’s… It’s hard not to be amazed when everything around us is so… beautiful.” Your arms swayed by your sides as you walked, and there was no mistaking the intentional brush of your knuckles against hers. “But… it’s even more special because I… I get to share it with you.” Her heart fluttered at your words, warmth swallowing her insides as she looked away to hide the dark red coloring her cheeks. “It’s… surreal.”

Her gaze returned to you, eyebrows pinched together tightly with confusion. You noticed the change, the sign of her perplexity, and it made you pause for a moment as you realized your words might have come across as ambiguous. Your lips pursed together, your eyes bouncing back and forth between hers as you worked your mind to come up with a better explanation.

“I- I mean… being here with you. It’s like a… a dream come true.” You breathed out as you slowly reached out for her hand, looking down to watch your fingers intertwine through hers, and the way her heart skipped a beat was serene. “I never imagined I’d be able to… touch you like this.”

Her brows unfurrowed slightly, the confusion giving way to a glimmer of understanding. Wanda’s lips curved into a tender smile, a mixture of relief and affection shining in her eyes. She hooked a finger under your chin, delicately guiding your head up to meet her gaze once more. “Being here with you feels like a dream for me too,” she murmured lowly, feeling a surge of warmth flow through her arm when you gave her hand a subconscious squeeze. “To hold your hand, to feel your touch… I never thought we’d see the day when I’d be able to do that.” The gentle breeze continued to brush against her skin, almost as if nature itself was encouraging her to bridge the gap between you. And she did.

Using her finger under your chin, she gently steered you closer, closing the distance between your lips. As they met in a soft kiss, the warmth that lingered in her arm expanded, spreading like wildfire through her entire body. Time seemed to stand still, and the world around you faded away. With each lingering touch of your lips, the warmth only intensified, enveloping them in a cocoon of bliss and contentment.

When you finally parted, a shared breathless smile danced on your lips, and Wanda’s eyes sparkled with a newfound certainty. “I never want to let go of this feeling,” she whispered. “Being with you, touching you… It’s everything I’ve ever longed for. And I won’t take it for granted.”

With a nod of her head, you continued your stroll, hand in hand. “I-” You looked down, watching your feet move you forward. “I don’t want to… take it for granted either.” You picked your head up, turning toward her to catch her small smile and twinkling eyes. “Wands… I l-”

“Hey there, Wanda.” Her smile tightened as she turned her head at the sound of her name. The mailman, with a cheerful expression, approached you with his cart in tow. He reached into the cart and retrieved a single card, instantly recognizable by its appearance. Wanda’s heart skipped a beat, and a sense of anticipation filled the air. “Just this today,” he confirmed, extending the card towards you. However, after a moment of hesitation, Wanda reached out and took it instead.

“Wh- Where?” you asked, your eyes fixed on her as the man walked away. She laughed lightly when you eagerly accepted the card from her outstretched hand, your fingers grazing hers. Your gaze shifted to the picture on the postcard, revealing a serene beach lined with people and what appeared to be a castle hidden behind trees dancing on the space between sand and grass. As you studied the image, Wanda’s gaze was glued to you, observing the emotions flickering across your face. “Spain… She’s in Spain.” Your voice was laced with excitement, yet there was a tinge of longing minced in your words. Handing the postcard back to Wanda, you watched as she delicately flipped it over with another soft chuckle, tracing the curves of the handwritten message with her eyes. “Wh- What did… she say?”

“‘Thinking of you from the shores of Spain. Wish you were here to explore the enchantment together. Until then, let this postcard be a glimpse into the magic we’ll experience when we reunite. Sending love across the distance. Nat.’”

“She’s… She’s…” Your eyes shimmered with a mixture of joy and wistfulness. Excitement overwhelmed your entire being, leaving you rendered incapable of speaking.

“She’s thinking of you,” Wanda finished your thought with a soft smile, her eyes filled with fondness. “Nat always had a way of making every place magical, whether she’s on assignment or not.” You let out a contented sigh, feeling a sense of warmth and comfort wash over you. The weight on your shoulders seemed to lighten, and watching them relax helped Wanda do just the same.

She extended her hand, a silent invitation to continue exploring the city together. You gladly accepted, intertwining your fingers with hers. The postcard, now safely tucked away in your pocket, held a cherished place in both your hearts as you walked hand in hand.

“What’s… that?” Wanda hadn’t realized she had been lost in your smile once again until you spoke, pulling her out of her reverie. She followed your gesture and looked in the direction you were pointing. In the distance, a lively scene unfolded before them. Tents were pitched, colorful balloons adorned tables, and the sound of music gradually grew louder as they approached.

It was a block party.

A mix of excitement and curiosity bubbled within Wanda as she observed the gathering. Laughter filled the air, and the aroma of delicious food wafted through the streets. Adults of all ages mingled, dancing to the upbeat rhythm and indulging in the festive atmosphere. As you slowed to a stop, her hand tightened around yours, a silent expression of her anticipation and willingness to join in the celebration, before the connection between you fell away. You looked at her, captivated by the longing in her eyes, and took a deep breath before walking forward.

“Y/N?” Wanda tailed after you, her face pinched up in confusion. “We don’t have to-”

“I’m…” You pursed your lips together, contemplating the next few seconds, before saying, “I see your new… friend.” Wanda, momentarily taken aback by your sudden determination, followed your gaze and spotted Agnes among the partygoers. A flicker of recognition crossed her face, and she couldn’t help but have her curiosity overwhelmed with intrigue. With a small nod, she understood your intentions and followed you to the festivities.

As you entered the lively atmosphere of the party, Wanda couldn’t help but notice the subtle glances you would steal in her direction. It reminded her of the way you used to look towards Natasha, seeking her support and comfort in public settings. The memory stirred a bittersweet feeling within her, as she understood the significance of those stolen glances. Realizing that you now sought solace and reassurance in her presence warmed Wanda’s heart. It was a testament to the bond you had developed and the trust that had grown between you. She felt a deep sense of gratitude and a renewed determination to be there for you, just as Natasha had been.

“Wanda!” Agnes, leaving her little group behind, made her way toward you with her signature grin. “And Y/N, a pleasure.”

Wanda’s gaze shifted towards Agnes as she approached, her curiosity piqued by the woman’s loud but friendly demeanor. She quickly glanced toward you, but your eyes were drawn to the neighbor’s nearing figure. She couldn’t see what you were thinking if you wouldn’t look at her.

“You two look absolutely fetching,” she claimed, crossing her arms over her chest with a touch of enthusiasm. “I’m thrilled you joined us! A block party just isn’t complete without the whole block, am I right?” Her laughter boomed, causing a faint twitch in your expression, a subtle reaction that Wanda’s observant gaze didn’t miss. Agnes’s piercing blue eyes seemed to fixate on you, making you instinctively tense up beside the Sokovian.

“We actually weren’t aware that a party was planned today,” Wanda confessed, luring Agnes’s attention away from you and onto her, “but it’s a pleasant way to get to know the neighbors!” Her chuckle was soothing and melodic - a stark difference to Agnes’s - and the sound of it melted away the tension that had gripped your muscles. “How about we explore the food options together? I’m sure they’ll have your favorite…” Her words trailed off as she realized you were suddenly no longer by her side, an instant knot of worry forming in the pit of her stomach. Swiftly, her eyes scanned the surroundings, searching for your familiar presence amidst the crowd.

“You’ve got quite the crafty spouse, huh?” Agnes teased, her laughter carrying a light, playful tone. But she could see panic slowly overtaking the color of Wanda’s eyes and she gestured towards her with a reassuring wave. “No need to fret, dear. I’ll help you find her.”

Wanda gently moved past Agnes, her brain not quite registering the words the neighbor had just spoken. A heavy sensation settled in her chest, constricting her breathing and causing her heart to beat in slow, heavy thumps. The party’s atmosphere was warm and inviting, filled with friendly faces, but she hardly noticed them as she pushed deeper into the gathering. Her thoughts spun in a whirlwind, waves of worries and scenarios flooding her mind. How had you managed to step away from her without her noticing? Where could you have possibly gone in this small space? And, more importantly, what’s going to happen when you bump into a stranger who is overly friendly?

She let out a heavy sigh, shaking her head gently. The party scene wasn’t exactly your forte, and that was one of the aspects she cherished about you. Your preference for cozy nights indoors, where you’d spend time doodling in your notebook or sitting together, engrossed in her favorite sitcoms, had its own kind of charm she absolutely loved. The sight of the lively party, though, had stirred a fleeting thought in her - a desire to proudly present you to the neighborhood, to walk in together with her arm intertwined with yours, showing off the treasure she had found. However, it was a fleeting thought, gone almost as soon as it had surfaced. A brief moment, a flicker in her eyes, which you had perhaps misconstrued for something else.

“Oh! I’m so sorry.” Wanda snapped out of her daze to focus on the woman in front of her, her hands resting on the witch’s shoulders as if she were keeping her up. “I should’ve been focusing on where I was walking!” The woman laughed generously, awkwardly, releasing the gentle hold she held on Wanda. The stranger sighed, shaking her head lightly as she fanned herself with her hand. “I actually don’t know what I’m doing here.”

“I’m starting to feel that way myself. I’m Wanda.” She held out a hand, smiling politely, yet the expression felt forced as the panic that had formed in her stomach only seemed to grow tighter the longer she went without seeing you.

“I’m, uh… Geraldine.” Geraldine accepted Wanda’s hand, giving her a gentle squeeze before letting go. “Say, I’m pretty new to town and I-” She interrupted herself when she noticed the lack of attention she was receiving from Wanda, an eyebrow raised slightly with curiosity as she watched the Sokovian’s eyes dart around the party behind her. “Are you-” She maneuvered her way to get in front of her, cutting off her line of sight to gain her attention. “Are you looking for somebody?”

“What?” Wanda blinked, focusing her gaze to meet Geraldine’s. “Oh, yes. My wife.”

“Your wife?”

“Yes,” she nodded. “I lost track of her a few minutes ago and I’m just worried she might be…” Wanda’s voice faded as her gaze landed on you. You were seated at a picnic table with Agnes beside you, positioned at your preferred distance. The sight of you began to untangle the knot in Wanda’s gut. Her yearning to be closer to you was palpable as she watched you dig your thumb into your palm while Agnes chatted with you. However, she wondered if the neighbor’s words were even registering with you.

Agnes picked up a fry between her fingers delicately from the plate in front of her. “So, what made you and your wife move to our charming little town?” You blinked, muscles freezing as if you hadn't expected her to break the silence. Your eyebrows knitted together as you processed her sudden question, a hint of uncertainty playing on your features. Your mind worked quickly, trying to recall the answer to this seemingly straightforward icebreaker. A slight unease settled in as you searched for the words. You pushed your thumb into the scar riddling your palm slowly, breathing out deeply through your nose as you focused intently on the empty space before you. Agnes watched you for a moment longer, chewing thoughtfully. It didn’t seem like you had any intentions of answering the question. Hell, it didn’t seem like you had any intentions of talking at all. There had to be something Agnes could do to make you more comfortable around her. She leaned back, her wide grin shrinking to a softer, warmer smile. “No pressure, dear,” she assured, sliding the plate closer to you. “Are you hungry?”

For a fleeting moment, your gaze moved towards the food before you raised your head to lock eyes with her, a spark of curiosity coloring your irises. As her nod of encouragement came, your fingers moved, and by some accident, they brushed against Agnes’s. The connection was brief, but it sent a puzzling warmth flowing through you as your muscles locked. She moved her hand as she cleared her throat, and that managed to pull you out of your panic state. You grabbed a fry, bringing it to your mouth to let the salty flavor dance across your tongue. A sensation of ease embraced you at the taste, your shoulders falling as you relaxed. However, as you reached for another, the plate seemed to move away from you, as if you had unintentionally pushed it. Confusion knitted your brows together as you looked up at Agnes, only for a tightness to return to your muscles at the sight of her crooked smile.

“How about we indulge in a little game?” she proposed, keeping the plate - complete with a hotdog, though your attention was riveted on the fries - closer to herself. “I’ll happily provide you with more of these,” she gestured toward the food, “in exchange for an answer.” You found yourself chewing on the inside of your cheek, your gaze darting quickly across the party as you searched for Wanda in a moment of unease. Unable to locate her, you relented, nodding in agreement with Agnes’s offer, a subtle grin of satisfaction gracing her features.

“I-” You cleared your throat, a bit of discomfort lingering as you gathered your thoughts. “We… We were looking for a… change. A quieter place to… to settle down.” Your eyes flickered toward Agnes before your hands found their way onto the table, tracing an idle pattern with your nail across your palm.

Agnes nodded appreciatively as if you had just shared a fascinating tidbit. “Ah, the quest for a peaceful haven. It’s something we can all relate to. Westview is the perfect place for that.” Her lips curled into a knowing smile as she noted your subtle interest in the plate, the way you’d look at it from the corner of your eyes. “A deal’s a deal.” She inched the food closer to you, her chuckle soft as she observed the way you eagerly reached for another fry. Leaning in slightly, she added, “Have the two of you explored the town a bit? Discovered any hidden gems I ought to be aware of?”

Your enthusiasm surged, and a radiant smile painted your face as you eagerly nodded. “We found a little… art museum,” you began, your gaze lifting to meet Agnes’s, where you found her typically piercing blue eyes now soft and gentle. “It’s… uh, a l- local place.” You glanced around the party once more, your gaze seemingly searching for your other half, but this time it wasn’t in need of comfort. It held an air of secrecy, as if you were about to share a juicy secret with your nosy neighbor. You turned back towards Agnes, your voice lowering an octave to keep your next sentence out of the ears of any bystanders. “I’m trying to… get my art displayed so… so I can surprise Wanda.”

“For Art’s Sake?” Agnes wore a sly smile when you cautiously nodded, her voice suddenly tinged with excitement. “Can you believe it, my husband, Ralph, is the one who runs that place. Isn’t that a marvelous coincidence?” She playfully wagged her finger, adding, “In fact, there’s an empty spot in the gallery he’s been itching to fill.”

“R- Really?” you responded, perking up.

“Absolutely!” She beamed, sliding the plate of fries closer to you. “It’s a charmingly small town, darling, just teeming with delightful surprises.” She leaned in even closer, her tone conspiratorial. “How about we make a little reverse art heist? You and I can swing by your place to grab that painting. Meanwhile, I’ll discreetly pop over to the museum and set it up. By the time you return with Wanda, it’ll be a wonderful surprise waiting for her.”

You scanned the lively gathering, but amidst the bustling crowd, you were still incapable of locating Wanda. A nagging thought in the back of your mind urged you to seek her out, to share the scheme you were hatching. After all, she was your confidant, your partner in navigating life’s twists and turns. Yet, here you stood at a crossroads, torn between the instinctual desire to include her in your plans and the wish to keep the surprise intact.

Agnes had a fleeting concern that you might change your mind as moments stretched in silence, so imagine her surprise when you finally nodded, returning your gaze to her with newfound determination. “Okay…” As you began to rise from your seat, it became clear that there was no room for her to do or say anything else; you had made up your mind, and you fully expected her to follow your lead.

To her credit, she did indeed follow. And, soon, she found herself standing in front of a map of the world hanging up in your living room. A few postcards were pinned to it, marking the locations from which they were presumably sent, although the pictures on the front held no names of the states. Agnes, being the nosy neighbor she is, couldn’t help but sneak a peek at what was written on the other side, but the sound of you descending the stairs quickly made her abandon her attempts.

“I… I’ve got it.” You presented a canvas as you looked toward her, your eyes landing on the map she was standing in front of. You made your way over to it, reaching into your pocket and leaning the artwork against the wall. She watched with curious eyes as you pinned a new postcard over Spain, now totaling four in all. “We can… We can go now.” You picked up the painting as you turned to leave, but her curiosity got the better of her.

“Who are they from?”

“Nat.” You looked at the map, your expression briefly clouded by sorrow. “She’s… on an assign- mission. But she’s going to take me and Wanda to… see the world when she’s done!” A grin spread across your face, eyes lighting up with excitement as you pointed at the postcard you had just pinned. “She’s in… Spain right now. She’s tracking down a… a rogue agent.”

Agnes tilted her head to the side as she looked at you. “Who’s Nat?”

“Natasha,” you expressed, meeting her gaze, “Romanoff. She’s…” Your smile turned rueful. “She’s my mom. I- I miss her… all the time, but… she’s doing her job. And her job… It’s important.” She watched as your gaze quickly shifted back to the card on the wall, your lips caught between your teeth. There was a sense of innocence about you that Agnes almost found endearing, a childlike wonder that time hadn’t managed to erase.

“Well, this painting isn’t going to hang itself, dear!” she declared, extending her hand. “May I?”

You hesitated, chewing the inside of your cheek as you stared at her opened palm. It was as if you had momentarily forgotten the plan altogether, pulling the painted canvas against you to prevent Agnes from reaching it. She released an impatient sigh but maintained a small, warm smile as her hands fell away. “Do you… Be- Be careful with it,” you quietly pleaded, passing the artwork to her. You felt a momentary tension in your muscles as her fingers brushed lightly across your knuckles. Yet when she pulled away, a perplexing warmth flowed through your veins, leaving you somewhat bewildered and frozen.

She rewarded you with a radiant grin. “I’ll be extremely delicate with it,” she assured you. “Give me an hour.” She passed you to make her way toward the door, pulling it open before glancing back over her shoulder. “It’ll be perfectly set up by then.” With a wink, she vanished behind the closing door, leaving you frozen with deep breaths to steady your racing heart…

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ᗢ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“There you are!” Wanda’s voice resonated with relief the moment you joined her. If that wasn’t enough to convey her emotions, her arms wrapping around you in one of the tightest hugs you’d ever experienced certainly did the trick. “Where did you wander off to?” She pulled back slightly so she could look into your eyes, yet her wrists still lingered on your shoulders with the tips of her fingers dancing across the bottom of your jaw.

“I, uh… I- I was with-” You attempted to explain, but your words were interrupted.

“Sorry, Wanda, but I can’t seem to find her anywhere.” A newcomer approached, and you turned to regard her, eyebrows knitting and head tilting slightly with curiosity.

“Geraldine, meet Y/N.” Wanda introduced you with evident pride, her posture radiating confidence. “Y/N, this is Geraldine. She’s new to Westview, too.” Geraldine extended her hand, but you only glanced toward Wanda, eyes pleading for assistance. She chuckled softly, intertwining her arm with yours and pulling you closer. “Thank you for your help, Geraldine, but I think we should be heading home,” Wanda remarked, steering you away before any further conversation could ensue. You felt a mixture of relief and lingering uncertainty.

“You… We should’ve stayed,” you ventured, clearing your throat as Wanda continued to walk down the sidewalk, her arm still linked with yours. “They- You were making… friends. Why not stay… hang out?”

She looked at you for a brief second before saying, “I’m quite tired. You know someone can only withstand so much social time before getting burned out.” She smirked, bumping her shoulder against yours. “Besides, I’d much rather cuddle on the couch with you and get some TV in.”

“Are you… really tired?” you questioned, looking down at the way her arm wrapped through yours. “Are we really going… home?” You picked your head up to meet her gaze, and you had trouble fighting the smirk teasing your lips when you saw the way one of her eyebrows was quirked.

“Why?” Her voice held a hint of playful skepticism.

“Can… Can we still go to the art gallery?” You straightened your form just slightly, yet it gave you the confidence to continue, “I- I heard that there’s a… a new piece there!” You flashed her a wide smile, one she always had a hard time saying no to, and she chuckled softly, knowing exactly why you were giving her that grin.

“Of course, Y/N,” she expressed, “but let’s take the long way there, shall we?”

The charming art museum came into view not long after, filling you with overwhelming excitement. As the sun dipped below the horizon, you courteously held the door open, allowing Wanda to step inside before you.

Once again, the museum appeared just as it had before, but that didn’t diminish the sense of awe that washed over you, reminiscent of the very first time you’d set foot in this place. And, as before, Wanda paid no attention to the art on display. After all, why would she when the most beautiful artwork she’d ever bear witness to was holding her hand?

Then she saw it. And, when she did, she couldn’t seem to look away.

The painting presented an enthralling tapestry of colors and forms, orchestrating an enchanting ballet where lines and edges converged and blurred, weaving an almost dreamlike quality into the portrait. At the heart of the canvas stood a solitary figure, radiating an air of enigma and power. Her hair cascaded around her like a fiery halo, and her expressive eyes held a deep emerald hue that seemed to move, capturing the endless ebb and flow of emotions.

The indistinct strokes that shaped her features conveyed an evasive allure, as if she were in an everlasting state of metamorphosis, perpetually shifting between an array of sentiments. Behind her, a blend of hues swirled into existence, employing a rich combination of reds and blacks. This vivid palette created an illusion of chaos and magic, as though the very essence of reality was bending and undulating in response to the figure’s presence.

It was clear that she had momentarily lost her ability to use her lungs, her breath having been caught in her throat the moment she laid eyes on the painting. However, when you gently squeezed her hand - as if you were reminding her that she was actually awake - it brought her back to reality. She quickly glanced at the plate beneath the artwork…

“The Scarlet Sorceress” Y/N Maximoff

…and in an instant, her gaze locked onto yours. “Y/N,” she gasped, her eyes wide with astonishment. “H- How?”

You cleared your throat, feeling a sudden wave of nervousness under her intense gaze. “I- I can’t cook… for you, Wanda,” you stammered as her focus returned to the painting, “but I can… I can paint for you.” Your eyes stayed fixed on the side of her face, noting the subtle part of her lips and the sparkling of her eyes as they remained locked on the artwork as if it were the only thing in the room. “I just- I wanted to… surprise you,” you added quietly, but as she continued to remain silent, your anxiety grew. “Is it… too much?”

“Absolutely not,” she quickly declared, turning her head to focus her gaze on you. “It’s… beautiful, Y/N.” Bringing your intertwined hands up, she pressed a gentle kiss to your knuckles, causing the anxious knot in your gut to begin to untie. “It’s the best thing anyone has ever done for me.” Her smile illuminated the green hues in her irises, making them even more vibrant. “I love it.”

“I… didn’t name it,” you whispered, and she followed your gaze back to the painting as she pulled you closer to her. “But it… fits.” Your smile nearly matched Wanda’s brightness as the two of you stood there for a while longer, because at that moment, nothing else seemed to matter…

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ᗢ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“I’ve made us some hot chocolate,” Wanda announced as she entered the living room later that night, carefully carrying two steaming mugs topped with overflowing whipped cream. A soft smile played on her lips as she recalled the first time you had tasted the drink, the look on your face when your entire body had relaxed the moment the rich, chocolaty liquid touched your tongue. “Remember when-” Her voice caught in her throat when she spotted you on the couch. Your legs were drawn up to your chest, your arms tightly wrapped around your knees, and your thumb pressing harshly into your scarred palm. She pursed her lips, then placed the cups onto the end table, crossing her arms over her chest. “What’s wrong, my dove?”

“A- Agnes.” A tightness formed in her gut as the name left your lips, and she took a step closer to you, her jaw clenched tightly, feeling as if it were nearly impossible to pry it open again. You had filled her in on your little “art heist” with the nosy neighbor on the walk home, yet it only left her mind to race through all the possible scenarios of what might have transpired during the time between. Did Agnes make you feel uncomfortable? Nervous? Did she make you feel scared, or even unsafe? The possibilities seemed endless to Wanda, and she was already planning a warpath to the house to the right- “She… She called you my… wife,” you continued, and a small smile tugged at the corner of Wanda’s lips. Her tension eased, and she continued listening as you spoke about the nameplate at the museum, realizing that Agnes had merely echoed Wanda’s own words toward you. “Is… Is that what… we are?” You looked up at her, seemingly melting into her brilliant green eyes as you softly asked, “Married?”

Wanda felt a sudden wave of nerves wash over her as if she had popped the life-altering question right then and there and was waiting for you to give her an answer. She shifted closer, taking a seat on the coffee table in front of you. Her voice, low and warm, broke the silence. “Is that what you want to be?” she asked gently.

Your response was equally soft, tinged with doubt. “We… don’t have rings… And I- I never… proposed.”

“What if I propose?” Wanda suggested, leaning forward, her elbows resting on her knees, and her chin cradled in her palms. She smiled at you kindly.

“Is… Is that what you… want?” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper, heavy with hesitation.

She bit her lower lip, her warm gaze locked onto yours, momentarily lost in their depths. Then, she blinked herself back to the present, moving closer until she was perched at the edge of the table. Wanda gently took hold of your wrists, coaxing you out of your curled-up posture. “Y/N Romanoff,” she began, her voice filled with emotion as she enveloped your hands within her own, “will you marry me?” Now she had popped the life-altering question, and she was waiting for you to give her an answer… which felt like forever. It seemed as if you could only manage to stare into her eyes as if you had lost your voice and didn’t know how else to give her a response. She could feel her heart picking up speed in her chest, beginning to thump against her ribcage as it gradually picked up the urgency to escape this tense silence. She was going to be sick, her stomach twisting angrily. She just needed to hear your voice. She didn’t care what the answer was, she just needed you to break the silence…

“I- I do,” you finally said, granting her reprieve as she visibly relaxed.

And then she chuckled softly as she interlaced her fingers with yours. “You’re not supposed to say that yet,” she teased, leaning closer to you, a mischievous smirk playing at her lips. “You’re supposed to wait for the wedding.”

A glint of excitement filled your eyes as you perked up. “Can… Can Nat come? I want her to… walk me down the aisle.” It was impossible to fight at this point, she lost the smile that had stretched her lips, yet you didn’t see it as you were already on your feet, making your way to the map on the wall. She was slow to follow you, watching as you tapped your finger against the new postcard. “She’s… here now,” you claimed, “so… it should take…” Your finger drew away from Spain, tracing a line towards America, but she was quick to catch your hand with hers, clearing her throat with a newfound nervousness.

“Y/N…” She sighed out, rubbing the top of your hand with her thumb. “We should talk about Nat…” She was hesitant to meet your gaze, watching her fingers twirl seamlessly around yours, her stomach twisting as her nerves caught fire. She needed to address the issue, to face it head-on. There was no point in dragging it out any longer. “Dove-”

“I… I know,” you assured in a hushed tone, prompting her to slowly raise her head, meeting your eyes. They held a kindness, a softness, an aura of forgiveness that unraveled the knot in her gut. And your smile, so innocent and just as forgiving, further eased her. “I… She came here and we… we talked.” Wanda’s brows furrowed with curiosity. She tilted her head slightly but remained silent as you went on, “I’m not… sure how she appeared, but… she told me not to… worry about her. That death is just a… a one-way ticket to a distant star.” Your face reflected intense concentration, momentarily distant, before reconnecting with her as you asked, “Is… she right?

Lost in the depths of your eyes for the millionth time, Wanda found solace in the gentle squeeze of your hand. You looked at her with a hopeful expression, waiting for an answer. “She is,” she whispered, nodding solemnly. Using your grip, she tugged you closer, savoring the warmth as your arms instinctively wrapped around her waist. “She got taken away, but it doesn’t mean she’s gone forever.”

Your lips pressed together in contemplation, your narrowed pupils seeming to gaze through her, despite the mere inches that separated your faces. She resisted the temptation to delve into your thoughts, instead patiently waiting for you to express your feelings aloud.

However, the warmth that had been steadily enveloping her began to dissipate when you stepped back, leaving an icy void. It was evident that you struggled to find the right words to express your feelings, and you chewed the inside of your cheek as your thoughts raced without capturing the depths of your emotions. She trailed after you as you slowly moved past her, making your way to the front door and then stepping out into the yard.

“Y/N….” Her words trailed off as you stopped and gazed up at the night sky, your shoulders slumping. She stood beside you, and despite the countless twinkling stars decorating the dark canvas above, she couldn’t tear her eyes away from you. “Are you okay?”

You nodded, your fingers wrapping around hers when you felt their presence at your side, seeking solace in her touch. “I- I wanted… to see her.” You exhaled a heavy, soft breath as Wanda tilted her head toward the sky with you. “Just… Just one more time.”

She gently squeezed your hand, sharing the moment of silence with you as you both stared up at the vast expanse of the night sky. The stars above seemed to twinkle with a knowing grace as if they held secrets of the universe. “I understand,” she whispered gently, her voice carrying a soothing tone. She turned her gaze toward you, her eyes reflecting the starlight. “Would you like to stay out here for a while, just the two of us?”

A faint smile tugged at the corner of your lips, and you spared another second to gaze up at the starry canvas above. When your eyes returned to meet hers, they shimmered brightly. However, the smile that slowly graced your face contradicted the sadness she had expected. “No,” you spoke softly, gently shaking your head. “We… We have hot chocolate waiting for us. I don’t… want it to get cold.”

Wanda began to speak, her voice laced with concern, but you interrupted her.

“It’s…” Your smile held a touch of melancholy, yet your shoulders relaxed as you turned your head back to the bright dots coloring the night sky. “It’s okay, Wands. This… This was my goodbye.” You punctuated your words with a firm, confident nod, signaling a sense of closure and acceptance that enveloped the both of you like a comforting embrace. You flashed her a smile before being the first one to step away, gently releasing Wanda’s hand as you made your way back into the house.

However, Wanda lingered for a moment longer, releasing a long, low breath as her eyes locked onto the brightest star above her. With a soft smile directed at the beacon, she mouthed the words, “Thank you,” while pressing her palms together in a silent expression of gratitude.

“Wands!” Her name rang out, causing her to turn with a soft, amused laugh as she walked through the door, closing it gently behind her. You were back on the couch, your legs folded comfortably beneath you, cradling one of the mugs of hot chocolate in your hands. “I… Thank you for the… the hot chocolate,” you said, tilting your head back against the couch to look at her from an upside-down perspective. You shot her a small smile, your eyes sparkling vividly.

Observing you closely, she noticed the way you watched her, and her expression became pensive. There was something wrong, a question lingering in her mind. Were you truly okay? She knew the profound significance of Natasha in your life, which was why she had initially chosen not to reveal the truth. Yet, in less than five minutes of stargazing, you appeared to have accepted her death with an unexpected ease. Shouldn’t you be more emotionally affected by the passing of someone you regarded as a mother? How could you seemingly be so composed? Furthermore, you continued to carry on the illusion of her being alive even after discovering the truth. If Wanda hadn’t mustered the courage to reveal the reality, how long would you have maintained that pretense?

She cleared her throat, and your eyes attentively followed her graceful movements until she settled beside you. Sitting up, you reached for the second mug, offering it to her. “We should talk, Y/N,” she asserted, her voice firm yet gentle, as her hands enveloped the cup.

“Am… Am I in trouble?” you asked in a faint tone, your arms lowering to rest your drink in your lap.

“No, my dove,” she assured with a soft laugh, removing a hand from her cup to press her warm palm gently against your cheek. Her heart fluttered with warmth as you leaned into her touch. “I just think we need to talk about Nat.” She sighed, her thumb tracing gentle circles on your skin. “It’s going to be a very long time before you see her again, sweetheart.”

Your lips formed a thin line, and she felt her heart tighten when she noticed the hint of tears glistening in your eyes. Your next words were barely a whisper, and she had to strain her ears to hear you, “What if I… forget her, Wanda?”

Her heart swelled with empathy, finally seeing the pain and vulnerability in your face. “You once told me that looking at the stars is gazing into the past,” she reminded you, and you nodded in agreement. “So, whenever you gaze upon the night sky and see her star shining with all its might… it will be as if you’re experiencing those cherished memories with her once more.” Her hand tenderly ascended, her fingertips softly caressing your forehead. “You will never forget her, baby. Not as long as she’s up there.”

She managed to wipe away the tear that had escaped its confinement with her thumb, and your subtle but unmistakable smile warmed her heart. Leaning against her, you allowed her to wrap her arm around you, drawing you closer in a comforting embrace. You rested your head on her shoulder, your gaze fixed on your untouched drink. “I’m… I’m going to miss her… forever,” you confessed softly.

“I know, love,” Wanda whispered. “I’m going to miss her, too.”

“Wands,” you murmured. She responded with a low hum, gently rubbing your arm as you took slow breaths. “I… I want to keep… her name.” A smile tugged at her lips as she leaned her cheek against the top of your head. “Is… Is that okay?”

“Of course, my dove,” she assured quietly.

“Can you… Can you fix another problem?” A mischievous glint sparkled in your eyes as you tilted your chin up to meet her gaze. “You’re my wife” - Wanda’s heart skipped a beat at the word, excitement fluttering in her stomach as she eagerly awaited your next words - “but… but we don’t… We need… rings, Wands.”

She laughed softly, a proud grin dancing on her lips as you picked up your left arm to showcase your bare finger. In response, she positioned her hand next to yours. “I can certainly fix that,” she declared. With a wave of her wrist and a shimmer of scarlet light, your once-bare finger was now adorned with a magnificent band. “A beautiful ring for my beautiful wife.” Your chuckle filled her body with warmth as you looked up to meet her gaze once more, but instead of saying something, you inched forward to bring your lips against hers.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ᗢ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Each night, darkness and silence enveloped the room as bedtime approached. You and Wanda would assume your familiar sleeping positions - she always insists on resting her head on your chest - and she would gradually succumb to slumber, guided by the rhythmic thump of your heart. Meanwhile, you counted the seconds, matching them with her gentle breaths, until you, too, surrendered to the world of unconsciousness. However, it wasn’t the restful slumber most experienced; instead, it was a void of dreams, a peaceful yet empty serenity…

But tonight was different. Your descent into that bottomless abyss was extremely short-lived, interrupted by an unfamiliar yet unmistakable sound, jolting you awake. Your eyes darted around the room, quickly detecting the absence of Wanda on her side of the bed. Panic gripped you for a moment before you threw off the blankets, eager to find the source of the distress. Peeking around the door of the bathroom, your brows furrowed deeply with concern, you found your wife on the floor, clutching the toilet bowl as if it were her lifeline.

“Wands?” You cautiously moved to stand in the doorway, but she quickly raised her hand, signaling you to stay put. You paused, nervously pressing your thumb against your palm as you watched her heave into the toilet. “Are… Are you okay?”

She drew in a deep breath, resting her cheek against her arm for a moment before slowly regaining her composure enough to rise to her feet. Stepping over to the sink, she turned on the faucet, and you remained silent as she washed her hands. “I’ll be fine, dove,” she reassured you in a soft voice, barely audible over the rushing water. “I think it’s just a stomach bug.”

She stood up straight, freezing when she noticed you were no longer in the doorway. Frowning with confusion, she took a step toward the hallway and gasped when she almost collided with you when you turned the corner back into the bathroom. Her laughter was soft, and she placed a hand over her heart while the other gently rested on your shoulder. “I- I’m sorry,” you whispered, your face briefly showing guilt before a smile lit it up. “I… I got you a ginger ale.” With a cup in hand filled with fizzy soda, you extended it toward her. “It almost always helped when… I get an upset tummy.”

“Thank you, my love,” she expressed, her fingers curling around the cool glass. “You should go back to bed. I’ll be okay, I promise.” She placed her free hand gently against your cheek in case her words weren’t enough, but the frown on your face made her tilt her head in curiosity. “What’s wrong?”

You looked away, focusing on your thumb tracing your scar. In a hushed tone, you confessed, “I don’t… I don’t like going to sleep.” She sighed, her eyes softening with sympathy as she placed her drink on the sink.

“Why not, baby?” She added her second hand to your other cheek when it was clear you were hesitating, gently guiding your head up until your eyes met hers. “You know you can tell me anything, right?” You nodded in response. “Why don’t you like sleeping?”

You chewed your bottom lip, taking a moment to gather yourself while the greens in her eyes offered you comfort. The warmth radiating from her fingertips encouraged you to share your feelings. “I… When I… close my eyes now,” you began, your voice barely more than a breath in the quiet room, “I don’t see you… anymore. It’s just… darkness.” Your hands moved to cover hers. “I… miss dreaming.” Wanda regarded you with a soft, understanding gaze. “It feels more like I’m sitting in a… in a dark room instead of sleeping. I… I'm always tired.”

“How long has this been going on, Y/N?” she inquired, her tone tender and empathetic. Her thumbs glided smoothly across your cheeks, and you found yourself melting further into her touch. “You know I could have helped you.”

“I- I know,” you replied, taking in a deep breath and exhaling slowly. You offered her a soft yet melancholic smile. “I just… I’ve been enjoying sleeping with… you.” Then your eyes widened, and Wanda burst into laughter, her amusement contagious as you stammered to clarify, “Not- Not like that. I- I mean… I do en- enjoy sleeping with you… in that way, b- but in this case, I…” Your expression shifted to a frown, your bottom lip jutting out, a telltale sign that you felt like you’d messed something up.

“It’s alright, my love,” she comforted, her hands sliding down to grip the nape of your neck, a smile growing on her face, unstoppable and unhidden. Leaning closer, her lips brushed across your earlobe, sending a wave of shivers down your spine as she whispered, “I enjoy sleeping with you as well.” Pulling away, she left a ghost of a kiss against your cheek. But her mischievous grin was cut short as waves of nausea hit her, sending her rushing back to the toilet.

You snapped out of your stupor, moving to her side, a hand on her back as you gently held her hair out of the way. “Did you eat… something?” you asked quietly when her convulses paused. “I… I noticed that the milk… went bad.”

She sat up a bit, looking over her shoulder with a raised eyebrow. “And when did you notice that?” she returned, but you only managed to send her a sheepish smile in response before she returned to the retching.

You had lost track of the time the two of you spent in the bathroom, but the sun was high in the sky by the time Wanda’s sickness seemed to ease a bit, allowing you to finally persuade her to lie down. Your nerves were palpable; taking care of someone when they were sick was uncharted territory for you. Natasha had always been the one to care for you when you fell ill, and she consistently downplayed her own illnesses, refusing your attempts to return the favor. In an attempt to distract your anxious mind and keep busy while sleep remained elusive, you found yourself rummaging through the refrigerator, searching for expired foods to dispose of.

The milk was the first to go.

Your distraction with reading expiration labels had been so effective that you hadn’t noticed the back door open, let alone any knocks, if they had occurred at all. You turned around, attempting to place an expired bottle of salad dressing onto the kitchen island when you suddenly spotted Agnes standing right behind you. Your heart jumped in your throat at the unexpected sight of your neighbor.

“Sorry, dear,” Agnes chuckled. “I’ve been told I can be awfully quiet on my feet!” She shifted to the side, allowing you to place the bottle down, and cast a curious eye over the assortment of perishables on the counter as you returned to the fridge. “Am I interrupting some spring cleaning?”

Your brows furrowed, and you turned to face her again. “It’s… It’s not spring.” Then, shaking your head, you stepped closer to her, closing the fridge door behind you. “Wanda. She’s not… feeling well.” Your lips pressed together as you glanced at the food, uncertain about what to do now that you’d isolated it. “I… I don’t know how to help.” Meeting Agnes’s gaze, you asked, “Y- Have you ever… taken care of someone with a… a bug?”

She laughed lightly, waving her hand as if the question was absurd. And, to be honest, it kind of was. “Of course,” she replied. “Ralph always manages to catch the latest stomach bug going around.” She cupped her hand around the side of her mouth and added with a wink, “Sometimes I’m pretty sure he’s even patient zero, if you catch my drift.”

You perked up, eyes widening with hope. “Wh- What can I do… to help Wanda?”

“Well,” Agnes mused, “I know chicken noodle soup does wonders.” She offered a reassuring smile, but her expression turned quizzical when she noticed you seemed a bit hesitant.

“I… I’m not exactly a… skilled cook,” you confessed, your gaze drifting to the battered smoke detector that had been moved to the table, a reminder of your last culinary adventure. She followed your gaze and let out a sympathetic sigh, placing her hands on her hips as she turned her attention back to you. “Is… Is there something else I can… do? Maybe I… I can run to the store a- and buy it-”

“I can teach you,” she offered with a broad grin. “Trust me, dear, it’s going to make her feel so much better knowing it came from you and not some store.” Her gaze shifted back to the array of food on your counter. “We can use some ingredients from my house. Let me go get them, and I’ll be right back.” She playfully winked at you before turning on her heels and heading out.

She wasn’t sure how long she had drifted into sleep, but the sun still painted a glow through the sliver in the curtains when Wanda opened her eyes. Inhaling deeply, one hand resting on her upset stomach, she stretched the other across the bed. Turning her head, she noted your absence, prompting her to sit up and strain her ears. Muffled voices reached her, guiding her to rise and follow the source of the commotion.

“Exactly like that, dear!” Agnes’s voice, unusually enthusiastic, was more animated than Wanda had ever heard it. Apparently, the neighbor could be even more energetic. “Now, let’s get that chicken into the broth.”

Turning the corner into the kitchen, Wanda wrapped her arms around herself, a soft and slightly confused smile gracing her features as she observed you with curiosity. You were handling a bowl of chicken with deliberate caution, slowly pouring the contents into a pot of bubbling broth. “What’s going on here?” Wanda’s voice broke through your focus, and your eyes snapped to meet hers. It was as if you’d been caught in the act of doing something you’re not supposed to be doing, and the bowl you were holding slipped through your fingers, making a metallic sound as it hit the counter before spinning to the ground. A flush of red spread across your cheeks, and you cleared your throat.

“Y- You…” You huffed. “I- I was making you chicken noodle soup be- because you’re sick and Agnes… She said that it… helps.” Your voice wavered, and the confused smile on Wanda’s face transformed into a bright grin. The tension in your muscles visibly eased when she laughed softly.

“We did lose most of the chicken, dear,” Agnes claimed with a downward glance towards the mess at her feet, “so now it’s just noodle soup.” Your hand reached for a towel resting on the counter, seemingly coinciding with Agnes’s attempt. The tension in the room seemed to swallow you when your fingers brushed against hers, causing a noticeable stiffness in your muscles. That familiar perplexing warmth flowed through you, and it was only when Wanda’s voice reached your ears that you managed to release yourself from the unintentional discomfort once again.

“Thank you, baby,” she said, moving further into the room. “It smells delicious.” You had to look away to hide the blush that burned your face.

Turning to Wanda, Agnes sized her up with an assessing look. “How’re you feeling, Wanda? Y/N told me all about your morning adventures!”

As the two women chatted, you knelt down to address the spill. Their conversation formed a comforting backdrop as you efficiently scooped the chicken back into the bowl and stood up, placing it aside. Gazing into the simmering pot, you pondered if this simple remedy would suffice. It wasn’t a permanent solution, you knew that, but you hoped it might provide Wanda some relief, easing her nausea. Catching a bug was unpleasant, and it frustrated you that you couldn’t do more for her.

The ladies’ talk returned more prominently to your awareness, Agnes’s next words snapping your attention to them. “Oh, honey. You’re not sick.” Frozen, confusion etched across your face like a painting, you locked eyes with Wanda. There was no doubt she was! You held her hair back while she was- “You’re expecting! Congratulations.” Applause echoed through the room, but your mind struggled to process the revelation while your gaze dropped to your fingers as if they were magic, eyebrows knitted together tightly. Could that even be possible?

“Surely I’m not pregnant, Agnes!” Wanda scoffed, shaking her head. “It’s-” The abrupt pause in her sentence drew your attention back, and as you looked at your wife, you noticed her staring at her stomach. Following her gaze, you realized Agnes was right. The small bump that had formed under Wanda’s shirt attested to that. Your heart started to burn. Was this what a heart attack felt like? “Could that even be possible?” Wanda echoed your previous thought in a faint tone.

Whatever Agnes said to Wanda only became more background noise as your mind raced. You hadn’t received the most ideal education when you were younger, but you weren’t ignorant about the basics of human reproduction. You and Wanda? Well, that’s definitely not how that works. However, the evidence was undeniable. The sudden morning sickness, now coupled with the noticeable bump you had somehow overlooked until now, painted a vivid clear picture. Wanda was pregnant - a little bundle of joy was on the way, a child that would be part of both her and you. A newborn. Panic set in. How were you going to take care of a baby when you struggled to care for Wanda, an adult? A child would need much more, unable to do things for themselves. This wasn’t something you had ever thought of before. Children? You and Wanda had just decided to get married a few days ago. Children? You’re not ready. Would you ever be ready? What’s going to happen when the baby arrives? You struggled to talk confidently, would your child pick up on that? Would your child pick up on your other traits? You became uncomfortable with physical contact. Would you be able to pick up your child? You had gotten accustomed to Wanda’s touch, would you do the same for your child? You sure are thinking your child a lot. Because that’s what this was going to be. Your child. Your child. Your-

“Dove.” Wanda’s voice was a soft murmur, and the feel of her breath caressing the side of your neck caused you to snap out of the whirlwind of your thoughts. You turned, finding her unexpectedly close. Her green eyes shimmered with concern, a faint shine highlighting the contours of her face. It was a familiar glow, one you hadn’t seen in what felt like ages. You dropped your gaze to see the yellow hue matching the brilliance of the sun coloring your veins, enveloping your arms. It wasn’t a heart attack. “It’s going to be okay,” she whispered, her fingers leaving goosebumps as they gently traced your cheeks. “Take deep breaths.”

Your heart pounded in your chest, seeking release. As you looked back into her eyes, your nose tingled, the yellow glow only intensifying. “Wands…” you choked, shaking your head subtly, unable to tear your gaze away from her. “I- I can’t… I-” Your eyelids squeezed close tightly.

“Listen to me,” she urged, her palms tenderly cradling your face. Her touch worked like a tranquilizing agent, pacifying the chaotic thoughts in your mind. “We’re going to get through this together, you hear me? Just the two of us.” She rested her forehead against yours, your noses lightly grazing. “You don’t have to go through this by yourself. You never have to face anything alone, my dove. Not as long as I’m here. And I’m here to stay.” Your eyes fluttered open, locking with hers as she teased with a playful smirk, “You’re stuck with me.”

You nodded, finally feeling the grip of panic loosening as her hands moved down to your shoulders. Her fingers intertwined behind your neck, and the yellow glow in your veins gradually faded. Your racing heart slowed, and you sniffed harshly. “T- Three.”

“What?” She furrowed her brows slightly, a hint of confusion in her expression as she pulled back slightly to look into your eyes, trying to decipher the meaning of the singular word before you voiced the explanation out loud.

You rested a hand against her stomach, inhaling deeply. “Just… Just the… three of us.”

In that moment, an overwhelming wave of emotions engulfed Wanda - joy, pride, excitement, and, at its core, love, all flooded her entire being. Leaning in, she captured your lips with hers in a tender, passionate kiss. It felt as if this kiss was imprinting the moment, sealing your future. She realized now she needed you as much as you needed her, and the two of you were going to embark on the journey of raising this child. Together. And she wouldn’t change that for the world.

“The doctor’s here.” Agnes’s voice cut through the air before she strolled into the room. You instinctively distanced yourself from Wanda, a flush of red coloring your cheeks. Agnes eyed the two of you, folding her arms with a knowing smirk. “Didn’t realize I was interrupting a celebration, dears.”

“Doctor…?” You furrowed your brows, sharing a glance with Wanda, who took your fingers into her hand to give them a gentle squeeze.

“It’s just a precaution, dove,” she reassured softly. “We need to make sure the baby’s okay.” Your lips pursed, nodding in understanding. Wanda guided you into the living room, and a glance at the doctor left your heart racing. If she weren’t tugging you, you would’ve been frozen at the doorway.

“I’ll give you three some privacy,” Agnes declared, lingering in the kitchen. “Just holler if you need anything!”

Wanda settled onto the couch, drawing you down beside her as the doctor delved into his bag, retrieving his stethoscope. Her grasp on your hand remained steadfast, sensing both your unease and the unconscious desire to fidget.

As the doctor pressed the instrument against Wanda’s belly, your breath caught, and a surge of nervous questions flooded your mind. Why were you so anxious? What was the source of this nervous energy? Were you more afraid of the possibility of a baby or the absence of one? The idea of a mistake crossed your mind. If Wanda wasn’t pregnant, she would be devastated. Her excitement at the notion was unmistakable. But how about you? Just five minutes ago, the news didn’t excite you. No, they made you panic. Had your feelings changed so swiftly? Were you… excited now? A baby - Wanda’s and yours.

A small smile tugged at your lips at the thought.

“Yep, definitely pregnant,” the doctor confirmed, and you felt a surge of… relief. Your smile grew as you gazed down at your intertwined hands.

“We pretty much guessed that,” Wanda commented. “It’s just taken us by surprise. It’s sudden. Overnight, practically.” You glanced at her, a slight furrow in your brows at her unexpected nervousness. Was she not ecstatic earlier? “How… How does this even happen?”

The doctor looked between the two of you as if contemplating the complexity of the situation himself. He then broke into a wide smile, attempting a light-hearted approach. “You see, when two people love each other very much-” He halted his joke mid-sentence, knowing how impossible it was, and straightened his form to place his hands on his hips. “You’re about four months along, right?” Wanda nodded, though you absentmindedly shook your head dubiously… until she sent you a look, causing you to switch your doubt to agreement. “I thought so. At this time, the fetus is about the size of a pear.”

You cleared your throat, leaning forward. You had to ignore the doctor’s stare, focusing on the feeling of Wanda’s fingers still interlocked with yours to say, “Wh- What… size would it be at, uh… twelve hours?”

“Pardon?” He smiled, hesitating. “Twelve hours?”

Wanda laughed lightly, giving your hand a gentle squeeze before releasing it to pat your knee. You looked at her with curiosity as she said, “She’s just concerned.”

“Every new mother-to-be gets nervous,” the doctor claimed happily. “Don’t worry; that feeling will go away when you look your newborn in the eye!” He picked up his bag.

“Sweetheart, why don’t you see the doctor out?” Wanda’s eyes met yours, and it took you a moment to process her words before you blinked yourself out of her hypnotizing gaze, standing up. As you walked away with the doctor, Wanda’s face lit up with a smile, and she rose from the couch, her hands gently caressing her belly as she made her way toward the kitchen.

“It’s a stroke of luck you caught me in time,” he claimed as the two of you stepped out onto the porch. You looked away from him as he stopped to turn to you, eyes landing on the neighbor trimming his edges with curiosity. “I’m taking the wife on vacation this afternoon.” You watched him - you were pretty sure his name was Herb - as he ran his trimmers across the hedges. “Oh! This should be of great use for you.” You looked back at the doctor in time to see him reach into his bag, pulling out a book with an animated picture of a stork on it. You slowly accepted the gift. “It has all the answers to everything you need to know about being a parent. Maybe even help you with those nerves a bit.” He waved his fingers at you as he started to walk away, yet your eyes were too focused on the book to notice. “I’m off to Bermuda!”

Your attention returned to the neighbor, his wide smile contrasting the odd scene of him driving the hedge trimmers through the wall. Stepping backward, the book clutched in your hands, you closed the door before turning around. “Hey… Wands? Our… neigh-” Wanda pivoted to face you, your voice catching in your throat as you noticed her expanded belly. “You… You got… bigger?”

“Did I?” She looked down as you approached slowly. “It’s kind of hard to tell from this angle.” Her hands cradled her stomach as she picked her head up to meet your gaze, her eyes sparkling brightly as you stopped in front of her. “I have a surprise for you!”

You couldn’t help but chuckle, raising an eyebrow. “Was… Was the pregnancy not the… surprise?” She rolled her eyes with a playful smirk, bringing your wrist in a gentle grip, and guided you to the room off to the side.

The room off the living room was a familiar mystery, a door you’d seen countless times but never put much thought into it. It seemed like just another storage space or perhaps unused territory. Until now. The assortment of wood, varied in shapes and colors, drew your attention immediately. A lone rocking chair sat to the side, and the walls were adorned in cheerful, childlike paint. It begged the question - how did this room come into existence? The pregnancy revelation had been mere moments ago, so how had Wanda managed to set up this nursery so quick?

“Sit down.” Wanda’s directive wasn’t optional, and you found yourself complying. Seeking comfort in the rocking chair, you observed as Wanda worked her magic, fingers wiggling to deftly assemble the pieces of wood into a crib. Your thoughts shifted from questioning the room’s origin to wondering where all this baby furniture had come from. It’s not like you had a dismantled crib lying around… did you?

Your gaze dropped to the book in your hands, lips pressed together in contemplation as you opened it.

“What does the book say?” Wanda’s soothing voice cut through your thoughts, prompting you to lift your head and meet her warm eyes. Her smile was soft, giving no hint of concern. She seemed genuinely happy about this whole parenting journey, and it left you grappling with the enormity of it all.

“You’re, um…” Your eyes flickered back to the book, scanning the page you’d opened to. “Morning… sickness.”

“We’ve already dealt with that stage,” Wanda breathed out, a soft laugh woven into her voice. With a casual wave of her hand, decorations levitated about the crib. “What else?”

“Uh, m- mood swings,” you mentioned, raising an eyebrow. “Aching back and… and feet.” Glancing back up at her, you swiftly rose from your seat. “Do… Do you hurt?” You gestured toward the rocking chair, then placed a firm hand on its back to halt any inadvertent rocking. “You shou- Sit down.”

Wanda dismissed your concern - and your attempt at being assertive - with a shake of her head. “Don’t be silly, dove. All I feel is excitement!” Her wide grin soon dimmed, forming an ‘O’ of shock as her gaze dropped to her belly.

“Wh- What? What’s wrong?” You took a tentative step toward her, then redirected your attention to the book, rapidly flipping through the pages. The doctor had claimed all the answers, but how were you supposed to find them if you didn’t even know the right questions?

“Y/N, sweetheart…” Wanda’s fingers delicately wrapped around your wrist, halting your quest through the book. Your body melted at her touch as she drew you closer and closer, until your palm pressed against her belly. A gasp caught in your throat as you felt the baby’s kick against your hand, your eyes wide… and smile even wider.

You leaned in closer to her, the tip of your nose gently brushing against the fabric concealing the bump of her stomach. “D- Do it again,” you whispered, laughing excitedly when you felt the push against you once more.

“He’s certainly a mama’s boy,” Wanda murmured softly, her eyes filled with a radiant warmth as you sank to your knees. The book lay forgotten on the floor as you pressed your other hand against her, and Wanda sensed a soothing calmness wash over her, seeing the joy she felt mirrored on your face. No more traces of concern or anxiety hiding in the lines around your eyes; just pure, unadulterated happiness.

“What… What does it… feel like to you?” You lifted your gaze to meet hers over the bump.

“It’s a… strange sensation,” she admitted, gently moving her hands to cover yours. “It’s kind of fluttery.” She chuckled, and as her laughter filled the room, the butterfly mobile hanging above the crib came to life, wings flapping in a graceful dance to the melodic sound emanating from Wanda. “Oh, did I do that?” With a sense of wonder, you eased one of your hands from beneath Wanda’s to hold a finger up, marveling at the beautiful insect as it perched lightly on you. Moving with delicate care, you placed the butterfly on top of Wanda’s belly, a proud and tender smile gracing your face.

“She’s… She’s going to be… gentle,” you murmured, meeting her gaze once more, “like you, Wands. A… butterfly.”

“She?” Wanda watched as you rose to your feet, briskly rubbing your hands together.

“I… I’m hoping for a… a girl,” you confessed sheepishly. “We can… name her after Nat. Is… that okay?”

Wanda reached up, the tips of her fingers delicately tracing the contours of your forehead and down your cheek. “We can definitely do that,” she assured with a tender smile, “but what if we get a boy?”

Your lips pursed together briefly before saying, “Wh- What would you… name him?”

She pondered for a moment, then leaned forward. “Tommy,” she answered. “A nice, classic, all-American name.”

“T- Tommy.” She felt her heart flutter as the name rolled off of your tongue. And she could’ve sworn she had flat-lined when you smiled after taking a moment to process it. “I… I like it.”

“But you’re still hoping for a girl,” Wanda pointed out, and you nodded unashamed, a broad grin of pride on your face as you walked out of the room with your head held high, causing Wanda to chuckle happily.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ᗢ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“Wands.” She lifted her head at the sound of your voice, noticing you standing in the doorway of the kitchen, your nose buried in that book in your hands. A small smile played on her lips as she wiped her hands onto a towel, humming a response. “A- Are you going to the… bakery?” you inquired, picking your head up to meet her gaze as you stepped further into the room.

She furrowed her eyebrows slightly, tilting her head with a hint of confusion. “No?” A light chuckle accompanied her answer. “Why would I go to the bakery?”

You grinned, “Because you… you have a bun in the… oven.” Her soft laughter filled the air, a sound that brought a flutter to your gut as you moved closer. Placing the book onto the counter, you leaned against it. “Do you need… help? Are you… hungry? The book says that pregnant women get… weird cravings.”

“I’m okay, dove,” she assured lightly, smiling warmly as she reached over to stroke a thumb across your cheek. “I’ll tell you what, though. How about I make us some popcorn, and we can catch up on some-” Suddenly, she grasped her belly, a gasp escaping her lips. You straightened up, eyebrows furrowing with concern as you reached out to support her.

“Wands?”

“Does your book say anything about this?” she asked, gripping the edge of the counter. “It’s not painful, but it’s odd.” Panic flickered in her eyes, her worry evident.

Before you can say anything, the lights in the room began to flicker. The microwave behind you beeped rapidly, and the smell of popcorn filled the air. The kitchen faucet started to run, water building up in the sink and pouring over the edge onto the floor. Despite everything happening around you, your focus remained on your wife. You took in a deep breath and exhaled slowly. She watched you closely and followed your lead, grabbing your hand as the two of you took a moment to breathe.

The easing of contractions was evident as the vice-like grip she had on you gradually loosened. Simultaneously, the appliances around you ceased their malfunctioning, returning to their off state as she let out a deep exhale. A moment of relief passed, and her eyebrows twitched, a wide smile gracing her lips as she cleared her throat.

“How’d you do that?” she questioned.

“B- Braxton Hicks. Fake… False labor. I read it- The book says it can help with your… breathing exercises.”

But she shook her head, and your gaze turned into confusion. “How’d you manage to stay so calm,” she chuckled lightly. “That was… pretty impressive.”

You shrugged sheepishly, feeling you lose yourself in her shining emerald eyes. “I just… I saw you panicking and… and I wanted to help.” You placed another hand over hers, relishing in the comfort her touch brings to your palms. “We’re in this together… you and me. So… at least one of us has to stay… calm and think straight.” You released her, sending her a tender smile as you brought her face between your hands. “It was… It was my turn.” She blew out a soft sigh, and your small grin grew as you felt her breath caress your chin like a delicate breeze. The way your eyes lit up, emitting a cozy warmth no fire could replicate, she knew what needed to be said…

“Y/N-” Her voice caught, noticing the small yawn you tried to conceal. Your exhaustion was now unmistakable, reflected in the weariness coloring your eyes. She pressed her lips together, exhaling softly before a small smile graced her face. “You need sleep.” Bewilderment took over your expression, evident in the deep furrow of your eyebrows. She laughed, placing her hands over yours to gently pull them away.

“Wands-”

“Come on.” With her fingers wrapped around yours, she led you out of the kitchen and into the living room. With each step, the stress that had built up over the day seemed to gradually evaporate into a sense of relaxation.

Sitting on the couch, she gently led you to lie down, guiding you effortlessly. Your head found a comfortable spot on her lap, and as you breathed deeply, content, you looked up into her soft, warm eyes. Her fingernails traced soothing patterns across your forehead, lulling you into a deeper tranquility. “There’s…” You chewed the inside of your cheek, your thoughts momentarily scattered as if erased by the magic of her gaze. “There’s no… point,” you whispered.

“Trust me, baby,” her tone as gentle as her gaze. “Just try.” You sighed softly, adjusting your position before allowing your eyes to flutter closed. Oblivious to the crimson wisps of smoke disappearing into your skin, and with Wanda’s soft hums reaching your ears, you felt yourself drift away into the void of dreams… only, it wasn’t quite so empty anymore.

Wanda always found solace in watching your peaceful slumber, even if it did sound a bit creepy. In sleep, you weren’t burdened by the conscious efforts you made while awake. The realm of dreams she had opened for you offered a sanctuary where you could be entirely yourself, free from the shadows of anxiety that haunted your waking moments. It was a place where the exhausting overthinking ceased, and you could simply let go.

She cherished this moment, yearning for it to stretch into eternity. The gentle caresses of her nails against your forehead, the soothing hums that filled the air - she didn’t want to stop any of it. Above all, she dreaded the mere thought of you waking up, shattering this serene intermission. So delightful. So calming. So… soothing…

An elusive shift unfolded, as she shut her eyes for what she thought was a brief moment, only to open them to a radiant light. It appeared she had slept through the night and into the early morning, with the rays of sunshine illuminating the room. The weight on her lap almost tempted her back into slumber. As her hand, nestled in the crook of your collarbone, meandered downward, she jolted awake when her fingers met an unexpected searing heat.

Wait… heat?

Her eyes shifted downward, and her heart surged into her throat. The luminous glow she had mistaken for daylight was emanating from you. The warm, yellow light gently bathed the room, casting a surreal ambiance that mimicked the morning sun perfectly. Wanda’s concern deepened as she focused on your sleeping form, realizing that something potentially worrying was unfolding right beneath her.

Your face contorted with subtle twitches, and your eyes moved restlessly beneath your closed lids. It hadn’t occurred to Wanda until now that her ability to unlock the dream realm didn’t necessarily shield you from unsettling nightmares. After all, nightmares were dreams as well. Her protective instincts surged, and she gently rested a hand against your cheek, whispering your name with a mix of worry and care.

“Y/N.” Her voice was a hushed murmur.

Your eyes fluttered open, and the soft glow surrounding you seemed to dim as you blinked, evidently disoriented. Confusion etched your expression as you gazed up at Wanda, furrowing your brows in bewilderment. Scanning the room as if trying to piece together where you were, your thoughts ran rampant, quietly grappling to make sense of the situation.

“Y/N?” Wanda’s hands instinctively retreated as you sat up, confusion lingering on your features as you rose to your feet. She mirrored your movements, tension tightly wrapping around her heart as she observed the careful way your eyes traced the protective placement of her hands around her belly. “Dove.”

In an instant, your grin surfaced. The uncertainty that had clouded your face vanished as if it had never existed. Your eyes sparkled with a newfound light, your smile radiated warmth, and your shoulders relaxed. Nevertheless, Wanda’s unease lingered, and she couldn’t divert her curious gaze from you.

“Are you… Are you hungry?” You perked up, but she wasn’t oblivious to the glimmer of concern in your eyes. “I… I can make you a sandwich.” Without waiting for her response, you swiftly made your way to the kitchen. But just as you reached the doorway, you heard her gasp from behind. “Wands?” You turned, your hands nervously rubbing together. “Wh- What is it?”

“This is a real one,” she expressed.

“A- Already?”

“Y/N.”

“Wands, I… I thought there was more… more time.” Panic started to seize your eyes, your arms once again taking on that vibrant yellow glow. She slowly guided you into doing some calming breathing exercises, moving closer to take your hands in hers.

You followed her lead, taking deep breaths until the glowing subsided. “Better,” she whispered.

“What- Should I get the… doctor?”

Before she could answer, thunder violently shook the house, and the room was suddenly drenched in rain. She met your wide-eyed gaze and offered you the softest smile you’d ever seen in such an intense moment. “I’m pretty sure my water just broke, dove, so I do believe it’s time to get the doctor.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ᗢ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

You found yourself rooted at the front door, almost paralyzed by the sudden realism. It had all happened so quickly. Everything. It was like blinking and finding yourself here. How could you have seen this one coming? Confined within the walls of a HYDRA lab, never daring to dream of a life beyond. And then, out of nowhere, fate had found you. Like a lost child at a local flea market, you were scooped up by a patient woman and a suspicious man. It felt like just yesterday. As if you had only just tasted your first French fry. As if you had witnessed the sunset for the first time. And now… here you were, listening to the cries of a newborn and watching your wife cradle the other one. Yes, the other one.

Twins. Could you believe it?

“Dove.” You snapped out of your daze at the sound of Wanda’s voice, her soft smile a balm to your racing thoughts. “Come meet your boys.” It shouldn’t have caught you off guard with how many times you had thought it, but it did. Your boys. Hearing it out loud from someone else made it different. It made everything more real, more tangible, in a way that your own thoughts hadn’t.

Your steps were hesitant, slow, as if you were walking into a moment you’d long been preparing for (which, in reality, was only two days). The moment to meet one of your children face to face, to let the panic subside, just as the doctor had assured you…

But as you reached the bassinet, as you looked into the eyes of your baby, that panic which had become your unwanted companion seemed to intensify. His tiny hands appeared to reach out for you, and you found yourself frozen once more. Your fists clenched, your jaw locked. What if holding your own child triggered an uncontrollable overload? The idea of putting your children in danger was unthinkable. How could you protect them when you were the weapon?

Wanda was suddenly next to you, the other baby still cradled in her arms, her focus fixed on the one lying in wait in the bassinet before you. “Y/N-”

“I- I- I- I… can’t.” Disappointment, shame, and guilt, all flooded through you as you shook your head adamantly, tears pricking your eyes, tugged at your nose, and painted your cheeks a deep shade of red. Wanda’s gaze snapped onto you, her irises soft with understanding, but you were walking away long before she could speak a word.

You retreated to the bathroom, closing the door behind you with a resounding click, then leaned against the sink and stared down at the faucet. What were you doing? You were allowing your fear of potential overloads to keep you from even attempting to hold your newborn child. You had mastered your control over your powers, hadn’t you? …hadn’t you? Were you willing to test that?

A soft knock echoed through the room, and you lifted your gaze to meet your reflection in the mirror. Your complexion appeared pale, bearing a bluish hue. A chilling sensation seemed to wrap around your body. It suddenly felt as if you couldn’t breathe as you slowly lowered your gaze, an eerie emptiness occupied the hole in your chest where your heart should be.

A hand gently landed on your shoulder, pulling you out of whatever nightmare you had fallen into. In the mirror, your image reverted to your usual self with your heart intact. “Y/N?” You met her reflection’s eyes for a fleeting second before you pivoted to face her. You cleared your throat, mustered a half-smile, and focused. “Did you hear what I said?” She regarded you with a hint of skepticism as you shook your head. “I know physical contact makes you uncomfortable, but there are other ways to express your love for them.”

“Like… what?”

“Well,” she hummed, gently taking your hand and directing you out of the bathroom, leading you on a leisurely stroll back to the living room, “what did you do with the boys at the compound?”

Furrowing your brows, you concentrated on her question, and she chuckled softly as she noticed your struggle to give her a response.

“You spent time with Tony in his lab.” You always sensed a hint of loneliness in Tony. You even picked up a thing or two from him since he did all of the talking. “You listened to Clint gush about his family all the time.” Learning more about Clint’s family and the gleam in his eyes when he spoke about them always brought a smile to your face. “You lightened Steve’s load by going through all the mission reports.” Not being on the team gave you a glimpse of the tremendous responsibility Steve carried as the captain. You thought helping him by taking on some of the mission reports would make his life a bit easier. “You’d bring Bruce a coffee whenever he worked late.” Bruce often got lost in his work, and though you only ever had one-way conversations with him - much like the others - you recognized that he couldn’t be pulled away from it. Bringing him coffee was your way of offering support. “You even made everybody your delicious peanut butter sandwiches when they returned from a mission.” They were always too exhausted to make something themselves, and you’d noticed just how hungry Natasha was after an assignment. You presumed the rest of the team felt the same.

With a hint of confusion, you looked at her. “What does… that have to do with anything?”

“Those are all ways to express affection without physical touch, Y/N, because you showed you cared enough to go out of your way to be there.” She guided you to stand in front of the bassinets, where the boys slept peacefully. “You don’t need to hold them… You just need to be there for them.”

“I… I can do that,” you expressed firmly, nodding confidently. Wanda smiled softly, entwining her arm with yours and drawing you close. “I’m sorry I… missed the birth. I was trying to find the… doctor, but he was already…”

“It’s okay, my dove. You didn’t miss anything exciting,” she assured with a soft chuckle, stepping back to sit on the couch, pulling you down next to her. “Just a lot of screaming and crying. Mostly from me.” You grinned, laughing lightly as she rested her head on your shoulder.

“How did you… do it by yourself?” You nestled your cheek against the top of her head, and she inhaled deeply.

“Geraldine helped me.” It was said automatically, and you felt her hold on your arm tense very briefly before she added, “It’s a shame she had somewhere to be, though. You would think you’d want to spend a bit more time with the babies you helped deliver.”

You stared at the two bassinets sitting in front of you, holding your twin boys. “I didn’t… expect two.”

“We still need to name the other one,” she pointed out, picking her head up to look at you, but you couldn’t seem to tear your eyes off of the cradles. “I know you were hoping for a girl, but-”

“W… William.” You sniffled as you finally turned to meet her gaze, showing her the way your eyes glistened with fresh tears. You smiled at her, but she wasn’t oblivious to the sorrow you were trying to hide in that grin. “After my first… friend.” Her lips pursed together tightly as memories resurfaced.

“Tommy and Billy.” She settled back on the couch, leaning her head against the cushion. “I don’t think there’s a better pair of names than that.”

Your smile broadened, the earlier sadness she had noticed now replaced by genuine happiness. “Wanda and… Y/N.” She tilted her chin to look at you to see a teasing glint in your eyes. “A… A close second… right?”

She chuckled lightly, the melodious sound warming the room. “You’re adorable,” she whispered. Leaning closer, your noses brushed, and your lips hover tantalizingly close. But the sudden cries of the babies broke the moment. Wanda let out a sigh, still smiling, and rose to attend to their needs.

You followed her, standing by her side as she scooped one of the babies in her arms, swaying gently as she held him against her chest. You cleared your throat, looking away from Wanda to lean over the bassinet in an effort to soothe the other little one, but your attempt at rocking the cradle just seemed to make it worse as his wails only grew louder in unison with his brother.

Wanda tried everything in her repertoire to calm down Tommy. She hummed soft lullabies, swayed gently, rubbed his back, and even attempted some bouncing, but nothing seemed to ease his crying. She felt a growing sense of helplessness as her boys’ sobs echoed through the room.

Then, a hushed relief passed her lips as Tommy’s cries began to wane. However, as she shifted her attention from the baby in her arms to the one she had left with you, it was then that she realized it wasn’t Tommy that had settled down, but Billy, and her heart skipped a beat when her eyes landed on you.

You were standing beside the bassinet, your arm extended, eyes squeezed shut incredibly tight, and a soft, yellow glow emanated from within the cradle. Panic initially surged within Wanda, but it swiftly receded as she took a step forward to take in the full scene.

Billy was eagerly reaching out one of his tiny hands, aiming to touch the bright, glowing object before him. His wide eyes radiated a contagious joy, and an adorable smile painted his little face. Wanda couldn’t help but exhale softly, a smirk playing on her lips as she observed you just being there for your son.

“Y/N,” she began gently, her hand resting on your shoulder.

“I… panicked. I’m so… I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, dove. Just take a look.” You hesitantly obeyed her, opening one eye, then the other, a sigh of relief escaping as you realized that your child was unharmed. You stood up, your grin returning, but as you pulled your arm away, Billy’s cries resumed, matching Tommy’s once more.

“Well, it was nice while it lasted,” Wanda mused, gently laying the baby back into his own bassinet. She smiled, glancing over at you. “Do you think you’re willing to do that all day?”

You met her gaze. “We… We’re new at this, Wands. I… I think we just need more time.”

“We just need some help.”

The front door swung open, and both of you turned to see Agnes confidently striding into the room. “Hello, kiddos,” she chimed, casting a broad smile toward the sobbing babies. She nonchalantly dropped a duffel bag onto the couch before approaching the two of you, resting her hands on her hips. “I was just on my way to yoga when I heard your new little bundles of joy were on a sleep strike.”

A perplexed frown creased your forehead. “Who… told you that?”

“Uh… my ears,” she retorted matter-of-factly, causing you and Wanda to exchange a bemused glance. Agnes leaned over the cribs. “Anyway, Auntie Agnes has arrived, and I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve to settle fussy newborns.”

“A- Auntie…?” you began, your curiosity piqued.

“You’re a lifesaver, Agnes!” Wanda interjected.

You watched as your nosy neighbor eagerly rubbed her hands together, ready to work her magic in soothing the bawling babies. Clearing your throat, you cautiously stepped forward to gain her attention. “Okay, but just… Don’t forget to… support their heads.” You gave Agnes a pointed look as you took another step closer. “And… When was the last time you… washed your ha- Wait, Wands, I… I don’t think we should let her…” You moved yourself in between her and the cribs, shielding your children from the woman.

The once wide smile on Agnes’s face faded, replaced by a hint of uncertainty. In the meantime, the incessant crying that had been dominating the house for hours began to gradually subside. “Um…” Agnes hesitated, then turned to Wanda, and the room fell into complete and utter silence. “Do you want me to take that again?”

“Sorry?” Wanda’s expression bunched together with confusion as you looked at her, exchanging perplexed glances with you and Agnes.

Agnes tilted her head, scoffing out an awkward laugh. “You want me to hold the babies. Should we just take it from the top?” She casually picked up her gym bag, her gaze shifting between you and Wanda.

“Wh- What?” Your own confusion mirrored Wanda’s.

Wanda couldn’t help but let out a dry chuckle, waving her hand dismissively as she approached you. “Don’t be silly, Y/N,” she encouraged you with a smile. “Let’s let Agnes give it a try.” The babies’ cries grew once more, and Wanda guided you aside, her hand gently resting on your shoulder. You observed Agnes behind her, rocking the cribs, mixing her baby-handling duties with lunges.

“Wands-” you began, your concern still evident.

“I’m pretty sure we’re both going insane from the crying, Y/N,” Wanda remarked.

“They… just started,” you pointed out, studying her emerald eyes. “Did you… really not see that?”

Wanda’s brows furrowed subtly, her lips forming a tight line. She laid a delicate hand against your cheek, rubbing soothing circles with her thumb. “Dove, the boys haven’t slept in days,” she reasoned. “We’re all tired and we all need a break.”

“It’s… It’s been less than a… day…?” You shook your head, gently removing her hand from your face. “Wands, I- Do you… hear that?”

“I don’t hear anything,” Wanda said, walking towards the cribs, perplexed by your sudden shift in focus. However, movement on the stairs pulled your eyes in a different direction.

You turned to find two young boys, side by side, standing on the bottom step, gazing at you and Wanda with wide, expectant eyes.

“Mommy?”

“Mama?”

“Kids,” Agnes chuckled, her tone filled with amusement as she sat on the counter, a glass of dark amber liquid in her hand, which she raised in a toast. “You can’t control ‘em! No matter how hard you try…” She took a long sip of her drink, and you furrowed your brows as you turned your attention back to your sons.

“Do they… usually grow this fast?” you whispered as both boys rushed towards Wanda, eagerly wrapping their arms around her legs in a tight hug. You watched, running a thumb across the scar marking your palm.

“At least they’re not crying anymore, sweetheart,” Wanda pointed out with a smirk. She met your gaze, and a sense of unease settled in the pit of your stomach as she added, “We can finally get the sleep we all desperately need.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ᗢ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Wanda descended the stairs with a gentle, measured stride. Her eyes found you almost instantly, curled up on the couch with your sketch journal resting against your knees. A pencil danced graceful across the pages, creating professional, elegant strokes. She tried to sneak a peek at your latest artwork, but the creak of a floorboard under her weight dragged you from your creative trance. You swiftly pulled the journal out of her view, and she regarded you with curiosity but chose not to press further.

“Where are the boys?” she inquired.

“They’re in… the kitchen,” you responded, using the eraser-end of your pencil to indicate the other room. “I heard the… sink running. It seems like they’re doing the… the dishes.”

She chuckled softly, shaking her head. “Just so you know, kids never willingly do chores, dove.”

“Oh… Well, I…” You dropped your journal on the vacant cushion beside you and quickly rose, setting the pencil atop it. “I can go… check on them.” You flashed her an innocent smile, your eyes bright and enthusiastic. Wanda crossed her arms, giving you a skeptical look. “I… I got this.”

“Alright,” she agreed, nodding. “I’ll give you five minutes, but you better be bad cop this time, Y/N. The last time I let you try to discipline them, you gave them ice cream before dinner.”

“They… They have your eyes, Wands,” you confessed quietly, causing her to laugh lightly as you made your way into the kitchen. The boys stood at the sink, turning at the sound of your approach to block whatever was happening behind them.

Wanda watched you cross your arms over your chest, and she smiled softly as she watched you attempt to be assertive. She knew she was going to have to walk in before the five minutes were up otherwise you’d end up giving the boys a unicorn, but curiosity nagged at her as she turned to look at your art book. Chewing the inside of her cheek, she reached over the cushions to grab onto the journal, flipping to the last page you were drawing… and she felt her stomach tighten at the nearly-finished, monochromatic image on the paper.

Your eyes remained closed, the hushed sadness in your face accentuated by the delicate graphite strokes. A lone tear meandered down your cheek, a poignant contrast against the muted backdrop. But the most striking element was the chasm in your chest, a vividly rendered void that laid bare your absent heart with a stark yet haunting elegance.

A gasp caught in her through, and a rush of emotion welled up, stinging her nose with the threat of tears. Her body froze, as if turned to stone, her feet anchored to the ground. But then, a single, unexpected bark pierced through the wall of fear that had started to build, shattering it and snapping her out of her daze. With a quick, decisive motion, she tore the paper from the journal and tucked it safely into her pocket.

She steeled herself, cleared her throat to dispel the lingering remnants of fear, and ventured into the kitchen. Her movements halted abruptly as her eyes fell upon the small dog cradled in your arms.

“And who’s this?” She stepped up beside you, resting her hands on her hips as she assessed the dog and then her sons.

“We haven’t named him yet,” Billy explained.

“Name him?”

“Mama said we can keep him,” Tommy chimed in, his excitement evident. This news prompted Wanda to slowly turn toward you, her brow arching impressively, her arms crossing over her chest. Your eyes widened, and you cleared your throat as you faced the boys.

“I-” The back door swung open, and once again, Agnes entered the room, brandishing a dog collar in her hand.

“Hey, kiddos. I noticed you two got a new pooch! I’ve got just the thing you need.” She extended her arm, offering the collar to you, and you began to reach for it. But Wanda swiftly intervened, snatching the collar from Agnes.

“If we put a collar on him, then it’s official,” she pointed out, giving you another meaningful look.

“Uh, boys… Your mother and I… We don’t think you’re ready to… care for an animal until you’re at least…”

“Ten,” Wanda coughed under her breath.

“Ten… years old,” you confirmed with a firm nod.

As the twins exchanged a sly glance, Wanda made an effort to halt their rapid aging, but your attention flickered toward Agnes as they persisted. She remained unphased when Tommy and Billy transformed from innocent five-year-olds into mischievous ten-year-olds. Her response was far from astonished; she simply chuckled, folded her arms, and remarked, “Let’s hope that dog stays the same size.”

While the boys engaged in a spirited debate over a name, you peered down at the little creature cradled in your arms, completely oblivious to Wanda’s keen observation. When you gently set the dog onto the floor, she grasped your elbow before you could leave. Leaning closer, her voice was a hushed murmur in your ear, “What’s going on?”

“I… don’t…” Your head swiveled to meet her inquisitive gaze. “I just… I need some… air.” You exhaled softly, your arm slipped from her grasp as you continued toward the door, just as Tommy called for her attention.

Wanda’s search for you was swift, but her escape from the house proved more challenging. Every time she made a move toward the door, the boys required her assistance with something. By the time she finally set foot in For Art’s Sake, the moon had already claimed the night sky.

A soft sigh escaped her lips, and she felt relief flood over her like a gentle stream as she spotted you seated on the bench across from your painting. Her eyes flickered to the plaque underneath it.

“The Scarlet Sorceress” Y/N Romanoff

It was nice of Ralph to change the nameplate. Your gaze wasn’t fixed on the artwork, though; instead, you were gently rubbing your palm, as if the scar was a mere pencil mark and your thumb, the eraser. You didn’t look up when she took a seat beside you, nor did you react as she cleared her throat to make her presence known. Her eyes met her own in the painting, and she chewed the inside of her cheek.

“Where are… Are the boys okay?”

“They’re sleeping, but Agnes is still at the house.”

Nothing. Your refusal to meet her gaze hung heavily in the air, creating a tension that could suffocate her if it were able to. She disliked the sudden distance that had grown between you.

“Care to talk to me?” She broke the second wave of silence this time, her tone gentle but concerned. It was evident that you were making no effort to provide any response. The longer you stayed quiet, the tighter the knot twisted in her stomach. She needed to do something, say something to encourage you to open up. It was unfamiliar territory; usually, you were more than willing to share your thoughts with her. But this time, things had shifted. You were closing yourself off, and she could see the protective walls you were constructing.

She needed to destroy them before you finished.

Releasing a short breath, she dipped her hand into her pocket, producing a folded piece of paper. She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees and began to unfold it, her peripheral vision catching the slight turn of your head. “Is it this?” She unveiled your self-portrait, turning her attention to you, observing that you were now fixated on the artwork in her hands. “Y/N-”

“I… died… didn’t I?” You returned your gaze to your hands. “I… I remember. Nat. She showed me. In my… dreams.”

Wanda furrowed her eyebrows. “Nat seems to be showing you a lot of stuff,” she commented.

“T- Thanos. He… got the stone, didn’t he?” You sniffled, your brows knitting together in thought. “I… I died. And… Nat died…” You cleared your throat. “You… brought me back?”

She let out a deep sigh, relief washing over her once more. But why was she feeling relieved?

“You left a hole where my heart should be, Y/N, and I just… wanted to fill it up.” Your eyes shifted back to the drawing in her hands, and you emitted a dry chuckle. She exhaled in frustration, reaching out to grasp your hands to prevent you from fidgeting with your scar. But you swiftly withdrew from her, standing up and pacing forward. “Are you angry with me for bringing you back to life?”

“I- I don’t know.” You inhaled shallowly, exhaling rapidly. “I just… I… I need to… breathe, Wands… Please.” She leaned against the wall, her shoulders slumping, as you headed for the exit. She glanced back at the drawing in her hands once more, then shook her head, clenched her jaw, and began to chase after you.

“Y/N.” She caught up to you outside as you stepped onto the street. You paused, her voice holding you back, and she disregarded the single, cool raindrop landing on her cheek as she crossed the distance to reach you. “Please just talk to me, baby.”

“Why… me?” You turned to face her, your eyes shimmering with unshed tears. More raindrops fell from the sky. “You c- could’ve brought anybody back. Like… V- Vision. But you… you chose me- Why didn’t you change me? Make me more… more confident. M- More… better? Why am I still… me?” you asked, your voice tinged with insecurity and self-doubt. Wanda moved closer, her eyes radiating warmth, her expression gentle. “I… I can’t be who you want me to be, Wands.” You huffed. “I’m… I’m not a people person. I can’t even… hug our own children.” You shook your head as if trying to shake the tears away from your eyes, but they continued to well up. “We tried- I tried. You… You deserve somebody who can… be with you, inside the house… and out.” Rain now poured down, a storm enveloping you both. Thunder rumbled overhead, lightning briefly illuminating the area. You sighed, your gaze drifting away from her to your hands. “You could’ve… made me that kind of- of person.”

Her head tilted to the side as she watched you intently. She gently clasped your wrist, ignoring your surprised look, and brought your hand close to her mouth. “I didn’t change you because I didn’t want you to change. You are exactly the person I want, just the way you are,” she declared, her voice ringing above the rain but her words a soft breath against your skin. “The Y/N I met all those years ago was already better than anyone I’ve ever known. And you’ve only become more perfect with time.” She placed a tender, affectionate kiss on the permanent mark on your palm, a smile gracing her lips as she added, “Scars and all.”

She couldn’t tell whether you’d finally let those tears escape, not with the raindrops tracing down your cheeks. Yet, the way you exhaled and gazed at her indicated that perhaps you had. She sensed those emotional barriers you’d been constructing beginning to crumble as you moved closer, your lips meeting hers in a kiss that felt like a blaze amidst the cool rain shower drenching both of you.

Amidst the brief symphony of thunder overhead, she knew that the sensible choice would be to break the kiss. To seek shelter from the rain. But instead, she defied this logic, her arms winding around your neck, pulling you closer to her, deepening the embrace as raindrops continued to fall and lightning continued to streak the sky.

Soon, she found herself chasing your lips as you pulled back slightly, and you ultimately rested your forehead against hers to quell the temptation. “We should… go home,” you whispered, and she nodded, your breaths mingling as you locked eyes. “Wands, I-” Just then, a louder clap of thunder seemed to shake the ground, forcing you apart. She beamed at your laughter, reaching for your hand as you looked up at the sky. She tugged you down the street, hand in hand, heading home. Together.

The door closed just as lightning illuminated the sky behind her, casting playful shadows on the wall. The rain had left you both drenched, but you paid little attention to it as you tugged her close, caught up in the embrace. The world outside faded away, and the fact that you were dripping wet ceased to matter, all except for a pair of eyes that observed you from the kitchen.

“Looks like you’ve figured things out in paradise,” Agnes chimed in, her voice breaking the intimate moment. Your muscles tensed, and Wanda let out an embarrassed laugh. “Don’t worry about me, dears. I’m just glad to see you both okay.” She grinned knowingly before adding, “I should get home. Thunderstorms don’t only affect the two of you, you know.” With a wink, she slipped out through the back door into the kitchen, leaving you with a sense of curiosity. You turned to Wanda, confusion written across your face.

“You don’t want to know,” she reassured you before you could question further.

You pursed your lips together, hesitant, conflicted. She watched you with patience as you worked the situation out in your mind. And then you finally spoke, “Do you think that we can… There’s something else I- I need to tell you.”

“Okay, dove,” she said, pulling you back to her. “But let’s dry off before we turn our home into a puddle.”

“I’ll grab… some towels,” you replied and placed a quick kiss on her cheek. Then, you dashed upstairs, leaving her with a contented smile as she took a step forward.

However, the moment was interrupted by a knock at the front door. Wanda turned to open it, and her gasp matched the rain’s now-gentle patter outside. Before her stood a man, his presence triggering a mix of emotions. She couldn’t find her voice, and her heart raced as she watched the man throw his arms up in the air.

“Long lost bro get to squeeze his stinkin’ sister to death or what?”

“Pietro?” Her voice quivered as her brother stepped forward, enveloping her in a tight hug. “Oh.”

While they embraced, the floorboards behind them creaked, and you emerged on the scene, towels in hand. Uncertainty was etched across your features. As the siblings broke apart, Pietro sent you a quizzical look, raising an eyebrow. “Who’s the maid?”

Chapter 4

#wanda maximoff #scarlet witch #mcu #marvel #marvel cinematic universe #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #maximoff x reader #scarlet witch x reader #natasha romanoff #black widow #heart of stone #reader insert #wanda #maximoff #agnes #agatha harkness

250 notes · View notes