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gurugirl · 6 months

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The Ex | ex!harry

Summary: Harry's your ex-lover and you see him at a wedding after many years apart. You're both married but Harry proposes something that you have a hard time saying no to.

A/n: This will have a jucier, alternative ending but you'll only find it on Patreon! I consider this Tumblr version to be what happens in 'real life'. Enjoy!

Word Count: 3435

Warning: 18+ only, mentions of smut, emotional cheating, angst

You had no way of knowing he’d be there. But then again, he also had no clue that you would be there either.

You spotted one another right away. It was as if by magic something had drawn your eyes to his. He was already casting his gaze toward you, those soft green eyes taking you in as he held the hand of the woman to his right.

Your heart skipped a beat and looking at him again after all those years felt like there hadn’t been a day that aged him. He looked just as youthful and vibrant and handsome as ever. Dark curls placed carefully on top of his head in a flattering style, broad shoulders, a slender waist, and nicely fitted pants showing off what you remember being very sturdy and masculine thighs.

“Oh! Here are our seats!” Your husband, Les, spoke from your side and pulled at your hand, drawing your attention back to where it belonged.

You shook yourself of the direction your thoughts had been headed just before. What good did it do to remember how things were once upon a time? When you were young and in college, no kids or a career… things had been so different back then. And seeing your ex, the man you thought you’d marry, the one you thought would be by your side until you grew old and ugly…

“Are you okay, babe?” Les asked you with concern on his face.

“I’m fine… yeah! Just looking around and seeing a bunch of old faces. People I haven’t seen in years.”

You were at a friend’s wedding. Someone you, by some miracle, had stayed in touch with since high school. You had grown apart from Seria over the years but she still invited you to her wedding and you couldn’t imagine missing it even though you had to find an overnight sitter for your two kids and drive five hours to a different state to attend. Something told you it would be worth it.

You turned slowly to glance around the room again, your wine glass in hand and caught his eye again. The woman he was seated next to was as lovely as she was when you first met. You remembered her. She was in your senior graduating class. An acquaintance. Someone that Harry had grown close to but that you hadn’t gotten to know all that well. At first, her presence didn’t threaten you. But after you all graduated she and Harry became inseparable and he slowly began spending less time with you and more time with her. They had a lot in common, as you recall. They were both music majors, they’d write music together and play at bars in tiny scraped-together bands occasionally.

You found out on accident about how serious he was about her. No one thought you didn’t know.

You had visited a mutual friend’s apartment and stopped in for tea and a little chat. Sarah had a whiteboard hung up on her front door, facing the inside. People would write on it. Doodle pictures, scrawl their names in different colors, or just leave funny messages.

You didn’t take note of the whiteboard at first but when you sat down on Sarah’s couch you looked up at it and saw what had been written in black with red hearts all around.

harry + ginny = really good stuff

It took you a moment to let it all sink in after you saw that. You and Sarah made small talk but you couldn’t stop thinking about what was written on the whiteboard. And the hearts all around it told you it meant more than just something friendly. So you had to interrupt and ask, “Is that… my Harry?” You already knew the answer.

Sarah followed your gaze to the whiteboard and she let out a small gasp, “Oh! I forgot that was there. Are you okay about all this? I know it’s still fresh. You and Harry were together for years.”

“Am I okay about what? What’s fresh?” You began to feel yourself tremble and your heart was racing. You were suddenly having a hard time taking in any new information because it all came crashing down on you at that very moment. The reality of what was going on. You were the last to know about Harry and Ginny. He hadn’t even had the balls to break it off with you first.

You hardly remember leaving Sarah’s apartment after she told you that they’d been dating, and from what she said, rather openly. No one had bothered to talk to you about it. Everyone just assumed you knew.

Of course, you went directly to Harry’s apartment and found Ginny there already. They hadn’t been doing anything bad when you barged in. Ginny was on his couch with a notebook in hand and Harry was on the floor with a guitar in his arms.

He looked up at you from his spot on the floor and it’s like you blacked out. You can’t quite recall what was said but in the end, he wound up telling you the truth. That he’d fallen in love with Ginny and he was going to tell you soon but that he didn’t know how because he didn’t want to hurt you.

After that, you still saw Harry. He was part of your friend group and so it was inevitable that you’d run into him from time to time. After a couple of years, things were fine between you two and you’d met Les. You’d both moved on. Things had changed. And then you moved away with Les and you got pregnant, twice, and now six years later, here you were again looking at the man who once was your everything. He’d broken your heart but you were both so young and dumb back then that it was all but forgotten.

The past was the past, but you could still feel that small clench in your heart at how things had ended with Harry.

More drinks were drunk, snacks were served, and dancing commenced… the night was fun. Les was hilarious. He was an awful dancer but he insisted on taking you to the floor with him. You both laughed and swayed to the music in the crowded spot in the hall designated for dancing.

And as much fun as you were having you couldn’t stop thinking about or catching glimpses of Harry. It appeared he couldn’t get you off his mind either. It was rather flattering in a way. To have him looking at you from across the room. The subtle smiles and nods. You felt really good about keeping your distance, though. Even though at the very end of everything, you and Harry were on good terms and had been friendly, it had been so long. Too long. You felt there was no use in having a chat. Nothing good would come of it. You’d grown apart. Lives took separate paths. Old exes at a wedding had no good reason to catch up when you’d likely never see one another ever again. It was easier to stay away. Better for everyone.

Les ordered another round of whatever he’d been drinking and suddenly wasn’t feeling so hot. You both sat at your table with a couple of the other guests who were still there. Many were dropping like flies, as tends to happen at weddings. Luckily the hotel was connected to the reception hall so getting Les to your room was not that difficult.

You knew you should have stayed with him. Just called it a night and tucked in for your early morning back home to pick up your children. But against your better judgment, you decided on just one more drink.

The band was still playing, slower music than when you’d left. Most of the tables were empty as people mingled and danced slowly. You sat at the bar and searched the room for Harry. You figured he and Ginny had gone to their room, or back home depending on how far away they lived from the venue. It was nearly midnight. The band would wrap up in a half hour and that would be that.

You sighed and turned back to face the bar and sipped your last glass of wine of the night. You’d said your hellos to everyone you wanted to. Except Harry. Deep down you really did want to say hi to him but you knew better. There was something that was telling you to keep your distance and you were glad for it. Maybe it was subconscious or perhaps there were still feelings there after all this time. You knew the truth. But you weren’t ready to admit any of that to yourself.

“Hi, Sunshine.”

You felt a wave of heat and excitement thrum through your bones. It was him. He used to call you Sunshine. Sunny. Used to sing You Are My Sunshine to you every day.

You turned to see Harry taking the chair next to you at the bar, “Hi, Harry.”

You took him in. All of his handsome face. Those pink lips you used to nibble, the nose you used to smush yours into for wispy nose-tip kisses. His intense gaze was just as it had been all those years before. You wanted to reach your fingers out and stretch them over his jawline and feel the stubble on the pads of your fingers. He was so grown up. So unchanged and yet more mature. More handsome in some ways.

He drew his arm along the back of your chair and leaned in close as he spoke to you as if you two were a couple. As if nothing had ever come between you nearly 8 years prior, “You are more beautiful than I even remember, Sunny. Not a day goes by that I don’t think about you at least once.”

You hadn’t expected him to let that be his leading comment. The first thing spoken to you in so long. But Harry didn’t follow conventions or rules. He never had. So it shouldn’t have surprised you that his first comment to you was how he thought about you every day. You wondered if that was true. Because there were days you thought about Harry still too. It wasn’t every single day. Some days he didn’t cross your mind at all. But of course, you did often think of him.

“I doubt that, Harry. You’re still big on flattery, I see,” you smiled shyly and peeled your eyes away from his to sip your wine.

When his thigh brushed into yours you could smell his cologne. It was different than what he wore in college. It was more grown up. Smelled expensive. Smelled more like something Harry should wear, “I wrote a song about you not too long ago. Ginny doesn’t know, but it brought back a lot of old memories.”

His voice was soft and deep and the timbre traveled from your ear down to your neck and your bare shoulder. You swallowed thickly and dared to turn to look at him again, knowing he was too close. Knowing what this would look like if anyone were to see you two.

“Where is Ginny?”

Harry’s small grin widened and his eyes sparkled as he looked down at your lips and shook his head, “In our room. She was tired. Just like I imagine Les is in yours.”

You blinked and looked away. You were flying too close to the sun, you knew it. This was dangerous territory and Harry was orchestrating something very wrong. Something you’d only regret. But you weren’t doing anything to stop it. Maybe curiosity had you sticking around. Maybe it was for old time’s sake. Or maybe it was just that you missed him and missed this and missed the way things had been.

You didn’t know how to respond but your body was on fire. Harry’s warm leg was pressed into yours and his large frame practically had you caged in. You loved it.

“Look at me, Sunshine,” he whispered as he softly touched your chin and nudged your face toward his, “There we go. Remember that time we loaded up my old Bronco and drove straight through to San Francisco? Thought we were gonna find an apartment and live like hippies in the big city and just write and paint and make music and that’s how we’d make all our money?”

You laughed and nodded, “I do. But instead, your Bronco broke down in Oakland at 3 am and we had to stay the night in the back of your car and get a tow back home.”

Harry laughed through his nose as he nodded his head, eyes still pinned to yours, “Wish it would have worked out between us. I miss all the fun we used to have. Me and you.”

You opened your mouth to respond but you were stuck. He was laying it on thick. He was never one to beat around the bush. He hadn’t changed. It was part of what drew people to him. His magnetism. His confidence.

“Don’t you miss it, Sunny?” He brushed his knuckle over your wrist and you inhaled sharply. Just the smallest touch had you spiraling. You would have to fight your way out of his trance if you intended on not allowing this to go any further.

You shook your head and looked down at your lap, “I don’t know, Harry.”

“We’d stay up all night making love until the sun came up. Miss classes. Skip out on parties we promised people we’d go to. Just in our own world all the time. It never got boring with you. For years we were like that. It’s never been like that with anyone else. All that passion we had, Sunny. My Sunshine girl. Never.”

You sighed and… yes. You did recall all that passion. And it was true. For nearly four years you and Harry were insatiable. It was like every day was your first date. Your first time. Like you were still getting to know one another after all those years. Sex had never been better. Harry was your best by far. You didn’t like to compare anyone to him but that’s only because it made you miss him. Made you miss the way you felt. Missed that lust and that passion and the vulnerability.

“I know you know what I mean,” Harry slid his hand down to your thigh discretely. No one in the room could see but you knew he was touching you in a way you hadn’t felt in so long. In a way that was only reserved for your husband. Felt that familiar, big palm spread over the expanse of your soft thigh, his thumb lightly grazing the bottom hem of your dress.

“Harry…” you breathed his name in warning.

“My Sunshine, girl,” he spoke the pet name back to you without an ounce of teasing. He was perfectly clear in what he wanted. And even though he hadn’t said it outright, there was no denying it.

“I’m married.” You reasoned weakly as you let your gaze rove his features and drop to his plush lips.

“So am I.” He squeezed your thigh and your limbs were on fire. You didn’t know how to escape the moment. You didn’t know if you wanted to. He was “the one who got away”. Even though everything hurt when it happened and he’d done you wrong, you’d long ago forgiven him and now it was just two old lovers feeling that same heat and desire they once felt. Some things from the past could be forgotten. But the way things felt between you, that constant spark, the wild lust every single day for all those years would never be forgotten.

You still dreamed about him. Would wake up hot and panting and roll over to see Les fast asleep with his face tucked into his pillow and you’d close your eyes and remember the time… Remember his voice and his hands and the way he made you feel. How free and exciting life was with Harry.

And it was all coming back to you in an insane, surreal, mind-bending rush. Everything about him was the same as it was before you graduated college. Before he fell for Ginny. Before you two grew apart and you got married and moved away. You could almost taste the skin on his hips near his laurel tattoos. Could smell the scent of his sex mixed with yours. Could hear the laughs and the moans and neighbors beating on the wall telling you to keep it down. Could feel the way you loved him once upon a time, the way he loved you so deeply it scared you. Loved you so much you never could imagine that he’d ever love another.

“You’ve lost your fucking mind,” you whispered with a grin.

He shook his head, “I’ve never been more clear-headed in my life.”

You licked your lips and closed your eyes. Every time you thought you’d wake up from the dream you felt him move against you, felt his fingers on your skin and you were continuously dropped down into your seat at the bar at your friend’s wedding with your ex at your side and his words snaking into your ears.

The only thought that kept you grounded was knowing that there was nowhere for him to take you that was private. Because that had already, obviously, crossed your mind. To have another taste. One last time just for old-time’s sake. But it seemed impossible. It seemed ridiculous to even entertain. And yet there you were.

“Remember that small room with the table and chair on the second floor of the library we used to go to? Had a lock,” Harry’s warm hand stayed on your thigh as he spoke.

You did remember that. You found a room in the 2nd-floor corridor that connected to a small hallway off the library. The hallway had four doors. They were all locked but one of them just so happened to unlock if you lifted the knob upward and jiggled it just right. The room was bare of furniture except a small wooden table pushed against the wall and a fabric swivel chair with wheels. Both of which you learned to make good use of. It wasn’t hard to find a use for random surfaces with Harry back then.

Nodding and squinting your eyes at the man you spoke, “Of course I do.”

“I want to get you alone in a room again,” he lowered his voice and leaned in so that his voice was close and the front of his shoulder was pressed into the back of yours, “Just one more time. Something just for you and me, Sunny. I miss you.”

You couldn’t believe the way he’d gotten you worked up in almost no time. The way you still reacted to him and the need crawling up your spine made you dizzy.

“There’s no place to go here, Harry. No free room. We can’t anyway… you know we can’t,” you looked at his face and held your breath. You couldn’t do this. It was wrong.

“We can find something. A hidden spot where no one will ever know.”

You looked away from his fierce gaze and down at your glass. You swallowed thickly and shook your head as you reluctantly pulled yourself from his side and stepped off the stool, “Harry. We can’t. I have kids. My husband is… I love him. I don’t love you anymore. I could never forgive myself.”

He clenched his jaw as he nodded, “No one would know.” He looked at you with pleading eyes. You could tell he knew this wasn’t going to happen.

“I would know,” you dropped some cash on the bar and looked back at Harry as you squeezed his shoulder, “But it does feel good to know that you regret replacing me with someone else even after all this time.”

As you walked away you took a deep breath and smiled to yourself. You could have said yes. Could have found yourself in some room or bathroom stall with him getting exactly what you knew he could deliver. But you didn’t regret saying no. You didn’t regret walking away from him. It felt good to have the upper hand. Something you had no idea that you’d had all along. The man who you thought you’d lost really turned out to be the man who’d lost you.

Find the other version with the alternative ending here on my Patreon!

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formulaforza · 1 year

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oh, simple thing— c.sainz

"the earth laughs in flowers" pairing: carlos sainz x female reader wc: 4.1k notes: guys remember when i used to write? back in january? crazy times. anyways.

You were five years old the first time you proclaimed that you were going to marry Carlos. It came, of course, after the implication that you would also be marrying Prince Charming (as long as he didn’t keep your glass slipper–shoes are a woman’s best friend, your mom had told you once and you never forgot it) and the gym teacher at your primary school, whose crush you’d never admit to anyone but your mom. Can you imagine the teasing? Thinking a grown-up is cute? It’s completely preposterous… or, when you were five, super-duper silly.

All three of the loves of your life were completely coincidental, coming to your brain while your mom read you a bedtime story completely coincidentally. You’d had gym class that day, of course. Played with the rolling scooters and argued with the older kids about getting a turn on the tube slide. Scooter day was always your favorite, so it was no surprise your teacher was in your good graces that evening. A

After dinner, while flipping lazily through channels on the big square television in the family room, your dad had clicked on the Disney Channel by mistake. Cinderella was halfway through and you threw a fit every time he tried to change the channel. You just thought she looked so pretty, in her big princess dress dancing at the ball.

Carlos, what had Carlos done to be in your good graces that day…? He wasn’t in your class, so you couldn’t enlist him in the war of the slides or crash into him on the scooters. He definitely wasn’t running around your house after dinner. If he was, your Mom would still be cleaning up after him somewhere in the house. Carlos, Carlos, Carlos… what had he–oh! That’s right! The flower on the way home from school. How could you ever forget the first flower? He’ll give you shit for it later.

Your mom and Carlos’ mom had been best friends long before you and Carlos burst into the scene. They liked each other more than just about anyone, and you never did understand how Reyes never tired of your Mother’s antics. She was always bossing you around, forcing you to clean up your toys and read your books. Carlos got away with whatever he wanted, his parents would even lie for him on his reading logs. Anyways, stay focused. Because your parents were such good friends, you and Carlos grew up side by side. Parallel play or bust, since neither of you were particularly apt at sharing. Everyday on the walk home from school, your moms would catch up on the gossip from the night before while you and Carlos tried to kill each other with various objects found on the sidewalk. This day, there had been eleven pebbles, two rocks, a stick, and Carlos’ metal water bottle (the one with the HotWheels logo on the side). Now, Carlos was charging at you with… a flower? A bluebell, one he’d picked straight from the ground, root and all hanging from his fist. When he held it out to you, you scowled. There wasn’t anything wrong with it. In fact, it was about as perfect as a bluebell from the sidewalk can get, but, you’re a little shit.

“It’s dead,” you said, took it from him and tossed it aside. “It’s not nice to pick flowers, Carlito. It kills them.” He burst into tears and your mother scolded you the rest of the way home, even though it was her who always told you to leave the wildflowers wild. After some time and consideration (a plate of dinosaur nuggets, half of Cinderella, and a bedtime story) you’d decided maybe Carlos was right to cry about the dead flower.

Carlos, it seemed, had gotten over the dead flower incident pretty quickly because, the very next day, he was already making a joke of it. He’d held up the walk home for fifteen minutes while he searched through a field in the park. Both of your mothers and Blanca had already shown him what had to be a hundred or so healthy, perky flowers. Carlos shook his head at each one of them, typical. You sat on the curb of the garden and played with the ants that had built a sandy hill beside your foot. You resisted the urge to stomp it, only because you knew you’d be lectured about leaving the bugs alone in the same way you were about leaving the flowers alone. After a lifetime–or enough time to have an after school snack–Carlos finally settled on the ugliest, most wilted flower you’d ever laid your eyes on. He presented it to you with a laugh and, because you’re just as stubborn as he is, you accepted the gift graciously and let it sit vaseless on your dresser for three days before someone threw it away.

Truthfully, though, the real reason you probably proclaimed your intent to marry him that night wasn’t some flower. It was that Blanca had defended you from his water bottle strike with a pebble to the back of his head, and you thought that would be a good kind of person to have as a sister.

Carlos was seventeen when he figured he’d probably end up with you eventually for the first time. There wasn’t anything romantic about it. It was more of an ah, fuck. It’s gonna be her, isn’t it?

Your families were in Mallorca, touring some vineyard–well, your parents were touring the vineyard. You, Carlos, and all of the siblings had snuck off from the group one by one and met up in the grove just outside the property. Carlos was bumming a cigarette from Blana when Ana finally turned up, stomping her way through the grass and wildflowers annoyedly. Carlos takes a puff of the cigarette and passes it over to you.

“You’re going to start a wildfire, you know?” Ana says, crosses her arms over her chest and pops out a hip all bratty.

“Ana,” Carlos groans, “shut the fuck up.” You exhale a puff of smoke through a laugh.

“If you’re going to be mean, I’m going back to Mom and Dad.”

“Okay,” he says, “have fun.”

“I will,” she proclaims, visibly annoyed that she isn’t drawing a reaction from her big brother. She loves to piss him off, everyone does, because it’s just so easy. “I’ll have sooo much fun telling them about how you’re all in the woods smoking. I’m sure Dad will love that, don’t you think, Carlos?” Blanca rolls her eyes. Sometimes it’s fun to mess with Ana, and sometimes keeping her humble becomes more of a chore than anything else.

Ana stomps away, her whole sneaky journey wasted, the group’s entire smoke session ruined by the pesky baby sister who can’t decide if she wants more to be included or to be a tattletale. “Don’t kill any more flowers on the way back!” Carlos calls after her, passes the cigarette to you again for one last puff before the lot of you have to make your way back to the winery, to the bathroom you’d all claimed to need to use over the past hour. Ana turns on her heels to make sure Carlos can see her eye roll. He just smiles, and you think if Carlos was your brother you probably would have killed him with your bare hands a long time ago.

You squat down to put the cigarette out in the dirt and Carlos digs a hole with his heel for you to drop it into, kicks the dirt back over it and stomps on it a couple times. “Fuckin’ snitch,” he mutters under his breath.

He snatches up one of the stomped on flowers, pulls it from the ground–root and all–and presents it to you. “You really are such an ass,” you say, take the flower and link your arm through his for the remainder of the walk back. “I love you,” you add, “but you’re an ass.”

You were twenty the first time your friendship with Carlos became a threat to one of your relationships. It wouldn’t be the last time. You’d been together for seven months, you and Mateo, Mateo and you. Met at a club in Barcelona and the rest was history. It was a simple conflict of interest, a scheduling woe. You were forced to make a decision. Your boyfriend’s grandma’s birthday party… or Carlos’ debut in Australia. To you, it seemed like the easiest decision in the world. His grandmother isn’t even that old–she’s got plenty of birthdays ahead of her, ones that you’d be happy to celebrate. But Carlos’ debut? Really? That’s once in a lifetime. It’s the shit you just don’t miss, even if you’re in the hospital or literally on your deathbed (which Mateo’s grandma is NOT, by the way. She lived seven more years according to recent Facebook posts).

“You’re going to Australia?” He’d scoffed when you told him, mentioned it so nonchalantly over dinner. When I’m in Australia, don’t forget to water the plants, or something along those trivial lines. He was just as offended as you were utterly confused. There’s no way he thought– “What about my abuela’s birthday?”

You’d laughed. The wrong thing to do, you know, but it was an action done without thought, without intention. “What about it?”

“You’re supposed to come with me.”

“I never said that,” you shake your head and he pulls a face. You set your silverware down and prepare for the coming argument. Normally, you’d just back down, but this is Carlos we’re talking about. Carlos, and his dream. Carlos, and his reality. “I didn’t,” you reaffirm.

He leans forward onto the table, elbows shaking the entire thing, rattling the wine glasses and ceramic against the wood. “I assumed you–”

“–I don’t know why you would assume I‘d be doing anything except supporting Carlos,” you say, more defensive than you intend to be. It’s just, you can already see where this is going, even if it’s never gone there before. You’ve watched the girls Carlos brings home look at him the same way Mateo is looking at you right now, or more importantly, how he doesn’t look at you.

“You know, I don’t either.” He nods, but it’s more of a full body movement, like he’s rocking forward, lips pursed and jaw tight. His eyebrows raise like he’s going to shrug, like he’s surprised with himself. You doubt you read the emotion right. “It’s always about Carlos, isn’t it?”

You lean back in your seat, cross your arms over your chest, close your eyes just long enough to hide the eye roll, and then you’re piling the silverware and the napkin onto the plate and moving the party to the kitchen sink. “I’m not doing this right now,” you say when you grab the wine glass carelessly.

“Oh, so you know what this is about, then?” He calls after you, gathers his things sloppily and follows you into the kitchen.

“You just said it’s about Carlos,” you say, slamming the sink on and clattering the plates into the bowl. Carlos had told you about these fights, about the ones he’s had with his girlfriends. You’d laughed about them, always thought it was so funny–the idea of someone left fuming by your friendship. The crazy assumptions, they couldn’t be more wrong if they tried. You and Carlos are nothing but platonic, you’ve always been platonic, you’ll always be platonic. When you know someone as long as you’ve known Carlos, they just become a part of you, build this little home in your soul that blends in so perfectly you could never cut it out with clean margins. It’s not just Carlos, either. It’s Blanca and Ana, too. Hell, it’s even Carlos Sr. and Reyes, but nobody ever seems to understand that.

“It’s my Abuela,” he says, like you’re supposed to be moved or something, and he sets his dishes in the sink on top of yours. “It’s her birthday, and you’re supposed to come with me. I told my family you were coming.”

“I don’t understand why you would do that,” you start scrubbing the first plate with far more aggression than required. You’re not a good fighter, you get mean, and you get mean quick. “I was never not going to Australia.”

He laughs, leans against the counter with his arms crossed, staring at the ground, at the crumbs waiting to be swept up. “Because you’re never going to choose me over Carlos, right?”

“Mateo.”

“Answer the question.”

You freeze, squeeze the soapy sponge in a fist until there’s nothing left to ring out of it. “I’m certainly not going to choose your Abuela over my friend. Over my brother.”

“He’s not your brother.”

You sigh, go back to cleaning. “He’s like my brother.”

“Yeah, if you wanted to fuck your brother,” he says, and meets your eyes with wide, proud eyes like he’d done something, caught you in some illicit love affair. You resist the urge to grab the wand from the sink and spray him with a jet of water.

Instead, coldly, you’d replied, “get out,” and pointed to the door.

His hands shot up in some great defense. Or maybe it was offense, you really never could read him that well. “I see how you look at him.”

In. Out. In, and then out. Deep breaths. “I said leave, Mateo.”

“Because you know I’m right.” In, then out. “You know how fucked up it is that there’s three people in our relationship,” in, out. “Four, if you count Carlos’ girlfriend! What do you think she thinks about all this? You looking at her boyfriend like your favorite candy?” In, then. In, then–in, and then you slap him with a wet hand, the contact reverberating into a splash, coating the walls and the ceiling and the entire fucking room in anger. Anger, and dirty dish water.

The anger is deafening, the room so quiet that the sink makes the kitchen sound like it’s directly behind a waterfall.

He storms off into the living room. You return to the dishes, hear the jingle of his keys, the door opening. “Fuck you!” You call after him, but what you really mean is Fuck Carlos.

When you get the breakup text a few days later, you’re not surprised. You put on your best face and pretend you never read it because while your boyfriend did just break up with you in a seven word text, you’re sitting out the back of the Toro Rosso motorhome watching Carlos pace.

You’ll tell him later, you think, after the race. And then, you don’t dare ruin the celebration, ride the high out until it can’t be ridden any longer. By the time you do get around to telling him, you’re all but moved on, mentioning it nonchalantly amongst the chaos of his first season. It falls away to the backburner, into irrelevancy, and Carlos never does ask what happened to sour the relationship. He does, however, have a wilted arrangement of flowers delivered to your front door with a handwritten note–ugly and dead, just like your relationship. You’d laughed for maybe twenty straight minutes.

Carlos was twenty-four when he realized he was in love with you, that maybe he always had been. He’d just broken up with a girlfriend, one whose name he hardly remembers now. Alessandra… Alena… Adrianna–oh, screw it. It was definitely an “A,” and if it wasn’t, he’s sure it was a vowel. Not the point. He was twenty-four and had just dumped whatever her name was because it just didn’t feel right. (What does right feel like at twenty-four? And how do you know it when you see it? The world may never know).

It was three races into the 2019 season, and he’d been having a particularly unlucky start with his new team. He’d spent the offseason relatively alone in Woking, finding his footing in a new place, a new team, a new car. Everything is gray, you’d told him the night he announced his impending move, scrolling through your phone at Google search results for the town. “It’s not gray,” he said, and without needing to say anything or flash him a look, he backtracked. “Okay, it’s a little gray.”

Three races in–an engine fire and two first lap collisions–in, and everything is feeling pretty gray, not just his rainy apartment (flat, he’s been taught to call it) in Woking. The cards felt stacked against him, and reluctantly, he’d called in reinforcements to Baku, a couple of good luck charms in the form of the people he loved. You, Ana, and Blanca flew in together and made Carlos come pick you up from the airport himself.

You climbed into the backseat and were anything but gray. You were glowing, completely and utterly sunkissed, and your hair was messy from travel but it reminded him of what you’re like after a good nap. Groggy and sleepy and desperate to stretch out like a cat. He hates that he knows how you like to stretch after a nap, the exact pattern of movements you do. Do you know how much time you have to spend with someone to memorize their post-nap stretch routine? Too much time, that’s how much.

You got into his car, all bright and sunny, and sure, his sisters were there and he loves them so much. But, you’re here, and you’re bright and sunny and everything feels just a little less gray. He pulls out from the airport and while he doesn’t realize that he loves you just yet, he knows something in him has been chemically altered by your smile, irrevocably so.

It’s Sunday when he realizes, somewhere between the checkered flag and the team debrief when you and the girls appear, practically crash into him like you’d been dropped down into the garage right from the sky. He hugs you, and you smell like sunshine. He wants to bash his head into the wall of his driver's room, to lay in front of Lando’s car and ask him to run him over because he’s not supposed to take note of the way you smell (unless it’s to call you out for smelling like shit).

You kiss his cheek and shove his shoulder because you’re so happy for him, because you’re always so happy for him. He doesn’t think it’s fair for someone like him to always have someone this happy for him. He loves that about you. He loves everything about you. He loves you. Fuck, he’s in love with you.

Lando nearly pees his pants over a tweet the next day. Carlos has reached a new level of Carlos-ing, it read, with a picture of him visibility distracted while being fed to the media pen. He can’t tell his teammate that the reason he’s so distracted is because he’s internally debating the pros and cons of ruining your friendship forever.

You’re twenty-four when you and Carlos start dating. The two of you drag it out for as long as humanly possible, stretch the patience of everyone around you so thin they won’t be surprised (or concerned) at the idea of you and him getting together. It’s scary. Really, really scary to admit your feelings for each other, to tell the rest of the world about it, but Carlos keeps bringing you these mis-shapen flowers, ones where the dye is soaked up poorly or they’re a couple days too wilted. It’s our thing, he would always say, and kiss you while you cut the stems to fit in your favorite vase.

He was right, it was something that was just yours. There was nobody else actively searching out dying flowers in the shops or carefully picking the dirtiest wildflower from its root on an evening walk through the city. That was just the two of you, and nobody else understood it.

“It’s gross,” a friend told you, twiddling one of the half-dead flower stems between her fingers while you shared gossip over glasses of wine. “You got these today and they’re ready to be thrown in the bin.”

“You don’t get it,” you’d swatted her words away. The dead flowers weren’t understood, and they didn’t need to be. They were special to you and Carlos, and when it came down to it, nothing else mattered to you.

“Seriously, though,” she’d continued, “It’s… I don’t know. Dead flowers, it’s just weird.”

Carlos is twenty-six when you break up. It’s mutual, it is. Even when it doesn’t feel like it’s mutual, when either one of you desperately searches to blame the other for the pitfalls, it’s still mutual, still two people who love each other. Who just aren’t in love with each other anymore.

There’s a lot of reasons if you want to get into it, but his new drive is the catalyst for pretty much all of them. Carlos is with Ferrari now, which is the dream, but it's also the nightmare. McLaren is iconic and historic but Ferrari… well. Everyone knows the Vettel quote, everyone knows the kid’s car is red. Ferrari’s Ferrari and you’re just… you. Time runs out, patience runs thin, and that’s the end of it.

You’re twenty-seven when you see him for the first time post-breakup. It’s a setup by your parents. Mallorca and the vineyard, again. You don’t think anything of it, so much has happened in the last decade and Mallorca is half of Spain’s favorite vacation destination.

He’s sitting with his family at the bar, the whole clan of them sipping from a wine-tasting tray. His eyes shoot up to meet yours with the loud creak of the old, heavy doors. He does a double take, and your stomach turns into a ball of knotted necklaces.

During the same tour you’d been on all those years ago, you sneak off with the same excuse you’d used. Blanca and Ana don’t follow after you to debate the environmental damages of bumming a cigarette in the grove or to threaten to snitch on you to your parents. They stay behind and listen and you stomp through the wildflowers to get some air. You’re already outside, Carlos would say if he were there. You’re my dirty air, you’d tell him, and he would roll his eyes, shove his hands deep in his pockets and rock on his heels.

He knows you’re not in the bathroom, there isn’t a single nerve in your mind that thinks he doesn’t know exactly where you are. He doesn’t sneak off behind you. You gather your thoughts in the grove by yourself, leant against a tree older than you’ll dream of being. You pick a wildflower, one that looks picture perfect, snap it carefully from the root and stick the stem behind your ear.

When you return to your party, they don’t notice you’ve been gone for far too long to use the bathroom or that you’ve got a flower in your hair. Well, all of them except Carlos, who slows his walking pace to drop to the back of the group next to you. “Nice flower,” he comments quietly.

You nod, watch your feet as they move in synchronized steps with him on the grassy path. “Thanks.”

“It’s dead,” he adds, and you smile dimly. “It’s not nice to kill the flowers.”

Carlos is twenty-eight when he’s perusing the birthday card section at the local gift shop. He’s trying to find one that perfectly sums up his birthday wishes for you. It has to be sunny and happy and so, so sorry for everything (even when it’s nobody’s fault). It has to say, I’ll always love you without saying I am still terribly in love with you. It has to be subtle and obvious and endearing and serious and funny. It has to be everything his words can’t be.

He eventually settles on one, tucks it into the yellow envelope and licks it shut. He handwrites your name on it messily, like you could get confused about who it’s for and need a label, or like he has a stack of yellow envelopes for dozens of other people sitting sealed on his kitchen counter. He goes to the florist next, picks out a stock arrangement from the fridge and a package of flower seeds. The final stop on his city tour is your apartment. Three knocks on your door, and then you’re undoing the deadbolt.

“Hi,” you say, confused by his presence on your welcome mat.

“Happy Birthday,” he smiles. “This is the last time I get you dead flowers.”

You and Carlos are thirty at your wedding. He cries when you walk down the aisle and there isn’t a single real flower in your bouquet. It’s all fake, and one of your friends asks if you’re worried it might look tacky or cheap. Anyone who thinks that shouldn’t be at our wedding, you’d told them.

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wifey-badalee · 2 months

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CLEARLY YOUD RATHER BE WITH HER

Part 3

“What the hell was that all about?”, Eli comes running in.

“ Ughh Y/N came to cause drama again and left in the middle of the celebration once again and started yelling at Alexia about how she feels left out”, says Olga.

“Omg gosh alexia I told you to get rid of that girl a long time ago, all she does is mess with you and hurt you, why would you want to keep someone like that around, she creates chaos and then leaves, I don’t want that type of girl in our family can’t you find someone like Olga or even her herself, she’s single , the perfect daughter, she would make the best fit think about it Ale,” Eli says.

Alexia felt that what her mother is saying

Was odd. You were nothing like they were describing, and she didn’t want to be with Olga….right? She was trying to understand you meant, did she really make you feel like that? Why were you so jealous Olga and why were you so insecure?

“Its whatever, I’m going to change so we can head home, ok,” Alexia says.

They all just waited for Alexia to finish and they headed home. Alexia couldn’t concentrate on the road, was that you breaking up with her? Why did you say she should be with Olga, is that what you thought of her? She needed to see you.

“ Can I drop you guys of at home I need to go somewhere,” says alexia

“Where are you going?”, asks Eli

“ I just need some clarification.”, says alexia

Alexia sped off to your house, but when she got there she saw your house door opened a little , like you forgot to close it. It seemed off since you never forget or ever leave it opened. She went to knock but the sight she saw made her heart drop. All of the things were lying on the floor broken, vases, plates and glasses , she was now scared and walked inside , she called out to you but no response, when she went further inside , the sight she saw broke everything in her , you were laying there with a knife stabbed in the smack middle of your chest and bruises covering you with multiple stab wounds. Everything after that was all a blur and now she’s sitting outside of the ICU waiting for you. Her mom, sister and Olga came rushing in, surprising.

“ Amor what happened?, asked Olga.

“ I don’t know, I just found her there.” Alexia says hands trembling.

Just then the doctor walked out.

“ Are you’ll the family of Y/N?”, asks the doctor.

“Yes I am.”, replied alexia

“Well she’s stable as of know, but we can’t guarantee anything, the knife was 1cm away from the heart so that was a close call and she lost a lot blood , she had some severe internal bleeding, she’s in a coma right now, so we can’t really tell the progress but as soon as she wakes up we will let you’ll now.” The doctor says

“Can I see her?”, asks alexia.

“Yes you may.”, he replies

She was actually scared going in there and seeing you like that, you body was so much smaller and you had wires coming out of you everywhere and bruises all over your face, she sat down and looked at you, but then she was interrupted by a thought of who did this to you and why? This was a brutal attack, why you? She then thought about the fact that she could have lost you in a second and the feeling made her.

P.s Who do we think did it?

Also don’t know anything about diagnosing and stuff so I just added what I knew.

#alexia putellas fic #alexia putellas angst #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas #woso x reader #woso community #woso fanfics

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the-soliloquies-of-sadists · 1 year

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#369

“Hey boy. Come here. I know I told you to stop following me around. I didn’t mean it. Shh shh. No, stay here. Nobody is nearby, so we can talk… for now. Sorry I got nervous back there. I usually don’t mess around when my wife was twenty or thirty feet away. But damn, you couldn’t keep your eyes off my cock while I was pissing at the urinal. It’s been a long time, and I couldn’t resist getting a fag on my dick. And damn you did a good job. You know, I’m just going to say this. I want more….

“You live around here?... That close? So, you probably walked here? Can’t say I blame ya with this parking nightmare. You live alone?... Good.

“Hold on. I need to text my wife…

“OK. Look. It’s been years since I used a fag. And a decade or two since I really used a fag and used them hard core. Lubbock doesn’t have much of a gay scene. Finding a fag wanting to throat me, that just doesn’t happen anymore ever since I stopped going to Mackenzie Park a few years ago. I went for a blowjob, and walked in on a cop arresting a fag for cruising. Haven’t gone back since.

“Wait a minute, didn’t you used to go to the park?... You were one of my favorites…. Oh you remember? Wait a minute… Wait a minute… Is that why you were following me around the flea market?... Oh that’s too much. I remember I used to skull fuck you, and you begged for more…. I forgot just how wild you queers can be.

“Back when I was in the Corps—oh man—whenever I had leave, I would drive up from San Diego to Los Angeles. I would go to this sex club in my service uniform. The fags there would see me and throw themselves at my feet. I learned early on that you fags are into some twisted shit. I really got into just how depraved how fags would get just to serve a Marine in uniform.

“How about you? You into twisted shit?... I know you like to get skull fucked, but I’m talking about sweat and piss and spit. Discipline and worship. Shit like that.

“Good. Good. When you were on your knees in the toilet begging to drink ‘Daddy’s load,’ I could tell it was natural role for you, just as it was easy for me to slip into that alpha supremacy role.

“…Good news. My wife text me back. She’s going to be shopping for a few more hours. I told her that I’ll be back to pick her up when she’s done. So let’s go back to your place. Get in.

“You will direct me where to go…. What’s your name, son?... Lachlan. Nice name. I like ‘Faggot.’ That sounds better. I’m ‘Sir’ to you. No, keep calling me ‘Daddy.’ I like that…. Which way?

“Slide over here next to me. Snuggle up next to your dad. Oh man. You naturally fit there, son. Go ahead, let your hand run where it wants to. You’ll see what grade-A 100% Texas masculine beef feels like.

“Son, which house is yours?... Uh, I kinda like ‘Son’ over ‘Faggot’ for your name.

“Ok. When we go in, you are to strip naked for me. You understand that son? Do you have any whisky? Good. Pour me a double over ice. Lead the way.

“…Nice place. Good thing you live alone?... You should be stripping…. And my whisky?... I’ll be here getting my Corona Gorda cigar going….

“…Mmmm. Fuck. Set the glass down there…. Before you get down on your hands and knees, let me see your naked body. Turn around. Mmmmm, nice ass. I’m looking forward to cunting it in a bit. Since I shot a load in your belly already at the Flea Market, my second load will take some time. I can go for hours.

“But first, this bull daddy is going to enjoy a cigar and whisky. And you can begin your worship of me. Lick them boots.

“Fuck yeah. Let me tell you how to lick a man’s boot. Your tongue needs to travel over every square inch. At no time should your tongue detach from my boot for more than a second. I should also feel tongue pressure pretty much all the time. When you lick the sole, look up at me. Nothing gets me boned up like seeing a faggot connect with this superior while doing something so submissive.

“Fuck, I miss this. Before moving back to Texas, I used to own this faggot from Irvine that I met at that sex club. He was on the way home from work. I would walk through his front door. He would have a cigar and ice-cold Scotch waiting for me. He would be on all fours waiting. I would kick back and kick him and fuck him and use him. When I moved back to Lubbock, I tried to get him to move out here to be my fag on the side.

“Move to the other boot.

“You interested in that? You want to be my fag? You know what? You are a faggot through and through. Let me say that again. You want to be my son, Son?

“Good. I may be 55, but I have the sex drive of a 15-year-old. Expect to be used two or three times a week. Who am I kidding, at least for the near future, I will be over here every day to drain my balls.

“You do realize that you are submitting to my control and ownership. No more other men for you, at least not unless I order you to. Now, I’m not going to give up other fags for you, not that I have many faggots to pick from.

“You also need to understand, I ain’t leaving my wife. Not now. Not ever. It would be very wise for you to never to mention her.

“Do you have sex furniture of any type? Sling, fuck bench, rimseat? No. What about restraints, dildoes, and so on? No. What kind of faggot are you?

“Ha! Just teasing you there. Next week I need to go to Dallas for an overnight. You will come with me and be my bitch for the trip. We need to buy some toys. A fuck bench, a rimseat—you do eat ass right?

“You better. Your tongue is going to be very intimate with my shithole. That is the only thing that goes into my hole. Don’t you ever try anything else.

“We’ll also get some restraints, gags, and so on. Whips and… You ever been beaten? No? Well good. I finally get something to break you in. You’ll be living under Daddy’s belt and whip. I broke in the fag back in Irvine. He loved it.

“I need to get my whips out of storage, if I still even have it. I’m going to do one hell of a number to your ass.

“…Did you just say ‘Thank you Sir’?

“Help me take these boots off…. Pants too…. I want a relaxing blowjob.

“…Ahhh that’s better. Get up here, son, and give your daddy a kiss…. Not a peck like that. Here… That’s how you kiss, with lots of tongue. Taste the cigar? That’s how a real man from Texas tastes.

“Give me some head. I was going to belt and fuck your ass, but I think I’m going to just chill here…. Your mouth feels real good. Keep sucking until I tell you to stop. If I should fall asleep, keep sucking. If I have to piss, I won’t warn you, just drink it.

“Son, I’m glad you stalked me earlier. This is going to be good. I know it is.”

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dejwrites · 1 year

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❪ ♡ ❫ ─── ⠀ ⠀⠀ find someone like you ⠀ 〳 ⠀ n.kento ‵

❪ ♡ ❫ ─── ( synopsis ) the story of two sorcerers that fell in love.

♡ ˙ ˖ ✧ — reader discretion is advised: female reader, written with black reader in mind, jjk manga spoilers, fluff, such sweet sweet fluff, saw a post that black reader writers don't write enough fluff so don't let this flop, established relationship (reader & nanami getting married), if you see the internals reference no you don't hehe, flashback is italics, thanks to @eiflawriting for helping me with reader vows, mentions of pregnancy, implied smut (doesn't go in detailed just mentioned), same ship from family affairs series, can be read as a stand-alone, wc: 3.6k

♡ ˙ ˖ ✧ — inspo songs: find someone like you by snoh aalegra, new balance by jhene aiko, show me by joey bada$$, pov by ariana grande

YOU NEVER THOUGHT YOU WOULD BE GETTING MARRIED. Especially so soon. You never thought you could say that you were in love—especially considering the profession you chose to dive head first in. As your reflection winked back at you, your eyes were glossy, and you could tell that you were about to cry. It wasn’t tears of sorrow or regrets but tears of joy. The dazed feeling of finding your soulmate and being content that this was the person you wanted to spend all of your life with. It felt like the first time the two of you met all over again. The butterflies—them freakin’ butterflies that curled around your stomach as if they were playing ring a round a rosie. They were there just like they were when you two met at a bar during Satoru’s birthday.

It felt like yesterday when you showed up at the bar with a bright smile on your face and Satoru’s gift in another—and coming fresh off a flight from the States. Jet Lag also on the verge of kicking your ass.

“Happy 21st birthday.” You gave the white-haired male a smile as you shoved a bag in his hand.

It was a last-minute gift before you boarded your plane. Quite expensive, but you thought it fit him pretty well. His crystal blue eyes twinkled in excitement as you guys sat at the table with drinks in front of you. You sipped from your glass and let your fingers run through your coconut-scented coils. You watched your close friend open his gift with so much excitement to see the expensive pair of designer sunglasses.

“Thank you, Y/N.” He tore off the ones he had and placed the ones you brought him on. “How’d I look?” He throws up a childish peace sign that gains a snicker from Shoko, who dabbed her cigarette in the ashtray.

You glanced around the table, seeing Utahime, who you were sure had to bribe with drinks to show. Shoko, who you had to play rock paper scissors to decide who was going to be in charge to ensure the birthday boy returned home safely. The alcohol hit the white-haired sorcerer like a teenager getting their first taste of cheap alcohol. This wasn’t the whole group—but shit happens. Haibara died. Suguru was gone. Mei only responded if yen bills were involved. You wondered how that one guy was. You couldn’t remember his name, but you remembered two things about him. Sitting with him during lunch after Haibara’s death and those chocolate brown eyes.

“Nanami!” Gojo’s voice shrieked in the busy bar as he waved his long arms in the air for the blonde-haired salaryman to spot them.

Due to your back being turned away from the bar's entrance, you had to turn around to face the direction that Gojo was looking. There he was. Was it cliche to admit that your heart felt like it stopped beating, and you forgot how to breathe when you saw him? Which only happened as soon as you made eye contact with their beautiful brown eyes.

Nanami Kento, that was his name. You finally remembered his name.

To think that night at the bar was the start of something. The two of you ensured the birthday boy returned home safely after only having three shots of the most expensive sake and a sip of your lemon drop drink. Catching up as Nanami would drive because that was the only thing you could do over Satoru’s subtle snores in the backseat of the car.

How’d you been?

I see you cut your hair.

Still doing that research about reversed cursed technique you've been interested in since you were like 17.

He remembered that little silly, goofy conspiracy theory you had about your technique, and you couldn’t even remember his name at first. He remembered how you were on the verge of getting suspended when you were younger for disrespecting the higher-ups (Thanks, Principal Yaga for having your back). That was one thing you adored about him. He paid attention to you—you just couldn’t quite put your finger on how long. Maybe that was why you fell so in love with Nanami Kento. Maybe that was why the relationship moved so fast that it left you breathless—but in a good way. Like a good rush of adrenaline. When you were younger, you told yourself that it wasn’t worth it to love when curses plagued the world like a disease. Sorcerers don’t fall in love because who had time for love when you were slaying curses or when you could die in just one assigned mission? Any sorcerer would know that it wasn’t worth investing in it when it could get taken away in a blink of an eye. Or so you thought.

“So let’s take that risk,” Twenty-One-year-old Nanami Kento said as you walked through a park after yet another successful date.

When you glanced at him, you caught his gaze so intense that it made your knees go weak. He looked at you as if you placed each star in the sky for him to admire yourself. He looked at you as if you were the reason the moon twinkled down upon you two. He looked at you as if he was in love, and you received this look countless times from him. Despite the two of you only seeing each other for about four months now. You tried to explain to him that it was a risk of falling in love regarding what you two do. Yes, he may have closed the door on slaying curses to start at this entry-level salary position—but you were still high in the sorcery field. He was trying so hard to convince you that you were worth the risk. If he were to die tomorrow—at least he would have had the opportunity to say he kissed you, held your hand, took you out, and made love to you.

“Ken, I don’t think you understand—“ Your words were interrupted by him stopping you from walking any further.

He collected your hand into his and looked you in your eyes. He knew that was another weakness—you never could look him in the eyes because you always got lost in them. You felt the pad of his thumb rub circles on your hand—the grasp tightening just a bit to ensure how serious he was. Your teeth nibbled at your lip before listening to him.

“I understand fully, and I’m all in,” Nanami responded.

He watches you blink a couple of times as if he was a dream. As if you could pinch yourself, and he would just disappear, and you would jolt up in your bed in a cold sweat.

“That just means we have to make every second worth it.” He explains. “So on that note—“ He leaned down and kissed your lips.

It was a soft, lightweight kiss until it wasn’t. His hand clutched the back of your neck, entrapping you completely to indulge in the plushness of his lips. You kissed back hungrily, actually, because you were all in too. You were all in four dates ago. You were all in when he stopped at your apartment to take care of you when you were sick. You just knew that Nanami Kento was worth that risk.

You always claimed that the two of you had time against you. Throughout your relationship, curses seemed to become stronger—it felt like it was always something new. Which increased the dangers of missions and your workload. That didn’t stop you guys from falling even more in love. Actually, it oddly landed you guys in a hiccup of your own, considering that you were here in a white wedding dress and your adorable three-year-old daughter was somewhere in the venue in her pretty flower girl dress. Yes, daughter.

You recalled how nervous you were about having your sunshine. Correction, you and Ken’s princess. You were nervous and terrified. You were still young. Just in love and working your way up in the sorcerer world. Granted, it halted your career (and she was conceived during a Christmas party), considering that you were only twenty-two when you had your daughter. But you and Nanami’s love grew. Your pregnancy wasn’t an easy road to go down, but you guys made it work. That was one of your two things. When you two were together, you created sunshine to help clear out a storm.

Adding your daughter to the picture was just sprinkling in that rainbow to piece together the beautiful storm that you and Nanami helped turn into sunshine. Your daughter was your whole heart. With her soft curly brown hair that was growing like a precious crown upon her hair. Her curious brown hues always sparkled when she saw you or Nanami. You adored seeing Nanami hold her hand as you guys made your way through a local flea market on a bright Sunday morning. You loved walking into the living room and seeing Nanami lying on the couch reading his favorite book while your daughter was sleeping on his chest. Those were just some moments that you held so close to your heart.

You perched up in the hospital bed, hearing the nurse explain what was to happen today. You spent days in the hospital after the birth of your daughter. Yu Nanami was a bit impatient when it came to making her arrival. With coming out a month early, your daughter was a premature baby—coming out and only weighing around three pounds. She was so small. You tried not to blame yourself when the nurse pushed you into the NICU. Maybe you were under too much stress. Push yourself too harshly at work to cause you to enter labor early. You remembered the feeling of your heart burning as the pad of your thumb rubbed against her tiny hand through the incubator.

“Little Yu has been doing so well in the NICU, so we decided that today we’re going to do a little kangaroo care, also called skin-to-skin care.” Your nurse beamed with a smile. “Kangaroo care can help her stay warm, gain weight, keep her heart and breathing regular, and even help with breastfeeding.” She explained to both you and Nanami.

You were super excited at the thought of feeling the warmth of your daughter's skin on yours, but you thought it would be better for Nanami to do it. You sat up excitedly before asking, “Does it matter which parent does it?” Your voice trails off before your nurse chuckles.

“It doesn’t matter. If you want to do it this time, he can do it the next time.” Her hand motions to Nanami, sitting in the chair beside your hospital bed.

Your plump lips formed an o shape before looking at Nanami with a smile, “I think you should do it first.” You say as your hand reaches out for him to take.

You watch closely as he grabs your hand and intertwines his fingers with yours. His brown eyes light up at the idea. You were sure Nanami held Yu more than you during your stay at the hospital. It was insane how small the baby looked in his arms while he waltzed around the room humming adorable lullabies he remembered his grandfather used to sing to him.

“You sure? She did mention it’ll help with breastfeeding. So I don’t mind waiting until next time.” He brings your hand up to his mouth and places a kiss on it.

“Yes, I’m sure. Plus, kinda an excuse to see you shirtless.” You joked with a wink.

“Of course.” He returned your chuckle before the two of you looked at the nurse, who couldn’t stop smiling at the adorable sight.

“Okay, then, let’s start.”

You couldn’t stop smiling at the sight, and you had never snapped so many pictures in a matter of minutes seeing your small baby on her father’s chest. If you looked close enough, you would even see some tears swelling in Nanami’s eyes. He quickly blinked to prevent you from seeing and to hold his composure, but that only let a tear droplet travel down his cheeks. Before smiling, you leaned forward to wipe the falling tear from Nanami’s eyes. “She got comfortable so quickly,” You pointed out.

“Yeah,” Nanami said through a breathy sigh.

You weren’t sure if he was nervous because his daughter was so close to him or the fact that the two of you created such a beautiful being. Frankly, it was both. Nanami felt at peace. When his daughter was placed on his chest, he felt a form of comfort. As if it was a missing puzzle piece that completed a puzzle, he’s been working on. It brought warmth to his heart to look at his daughter and see a share of himself and the woman he loved.

“She’s going to be attached to your hip. Such a daddy’s girl already.” You commented as you glanced at him.

The only thing you could do was let out a happy sigh. Because that’s what you were, happy.

Now here you stood with just a door and a simple walk-in between the love of your life. As you grasp Principal Yaga’s arm, you can feel yourself get nervous. It wasn’t per se you were having second thoughts. You would never have second thoughts about this. But you were nervous about what was to come. The two of you always viewed your love story as a love story on pure adrenaline. You two put your all into it because one day, you weren’t sure if the other would be here.

As soon as the doors were opened and you stepped into the room, grasping on one of the men who watched you grow into the young sorcerer you were today—there he was. Nanami Kento. His eyes met yours, and that nervous bubble that came crashing upon you burst. You couldn’t contain the smile that cracked on your face with each step you took down the aisle. Your eyes were blurring with your tears, and you hadn’t even stood before him yet. From the looks of it, Nanami wasn’t any better. Dabbing at his brown eyes with a tissue Gojo gave him—a quite poor attempt to not show the whole room he was tearing up at the sight of you. You, the love of his life.

When the thin sheer veil was lifted off your face, you looked at him and smiled. You felt like the princess in a fairytale, and you had finally been receiving your happily ever after with your prince.

“Hey,” Nanami said to you with a smile.

“Hello.” You responded, returning the smile.

“You look beautiful,” Nanami adds.

There you felt those same butterflies erupt in your stomach. The same ones appeared when he would kiss you in the morning before leaving for work. The same ones appeared as you watched him with Yu doing practically anything. Every moment you spent with Nanami felt like only you guys were in the room. You only saw him. You were so in love and ready for him to be the one you spent forever with.

You were in such a trance of staring into Nanami's dreamy set of chocolate brown eyes; you didn’t even notice that the wedding celebrant mentioned that it was time for you to say your vows. You heard the wedding celebrant make a joke that made the guests laugh, and your cheeks warmed in embarrassment.

“So, should we do rock paper scissors to decide who goes first?” You joked, and Nanami laughed.

“I think my beautiful, beautiful Y/N should go first.”

“Fine, but if you cry so hard that you can’t even say your vows—don’t blame me.” You uttered.

You inhaled sharply, and the squeeze on your hands grew tighter. A squeeze of comfort to ensure that everything was going to be okay.

“Falling in love while being a sorcerer was something I never expected to do. Our jobs are risky, and I just knew I didn’t want to put someone in a situation where they’ll possibly lose me—or I lose them. But I just couldn’t help myself when it came to you, Ken. When I thought being in the world of sorcery would be suffocating, you were the air I needed to breathe. You felt so good. You felt like home. Looking at you first thing in the morning with your messy hair made me feel like everything was going to be okay. The patience you had with my apprehension assured me. I don’t think I’ve ever met someone as kind as you before. You handle me with so much care. You give me your shoulder to cry on when I have a stressful day at work. You listen to me talk shit about the reality TV show reruns I watch, regardless of you knowing what the hell I’m talking about. You gave me security, even when I felt scared. “Let’s take that risk,” remember? I can’t think of an opposite word for risk, but this—marrying you, having Yu? This doesn’t feel like a risk at all. This feels like a blessing. Aside from having our beautiful baby girl, falling in love with you is the best decision I have ever made in my life. Everyday with you feels like I’m experiencing love all over again. I’m sorry, I’m talking too much. Maybe I should’ve written this down.” You said, and guests laughed at last comment. If you listened closely, you could even hear one of your aunts yell to ‘to take your time, sweetie’.

“Just—Thank you, okay? I love you. I’ll always love you no matter what. And whenever you need me, just think of me, and I swear I’ll be there.” You finished with a smile, and tears fluttered down your cheeks.

Like the gentleman he was, Nanami wipes your tears away while trying to hold back his own.

“Fuck, you weren’t lying about me possibly crying after you said yours.” He says with a sigh.

“Daddy! Language.” Yu said out loud, giving him a similar look you would give him when he stays up too late.

“I’m sorry. I’ll put money in the swear jar after this.” He apologizes before he looks at you. “It’s my turn now, and I honestly don’t even know where I start. You know, I always thought that maybe I should write all of this day. But then, I knew I would have a whole book of how I feel about you.” Nanami explained.

“I remember when we first met. We were teenagers, and you always had this contagious smile on your face that, on some days, I found myself thinking about within the day. In my mind, I couldn’t admit that I like you considering what we were in school for. What was the point if one of us could die? Haibara’s death further proved my point, but when I saw you at the bar, I remembered Haibara’s words when he was younger. He mentioned that I shouldn’t let us about to be sorcerers hinder what I want in life. At that moment, I was all in. I knew what I wanted.” He wipes away a tear from your cheek with a sly grin.

“I wanted you, Y/N. I wanted your Sunday mornings where you’re just lounging around. I wanted your talkative moments of you talking about any and everything. I wanted your silence because I knew you could just be thinking about what flavor of ice cream you wanted or about some curse one of your co-workers told you about. I wanted your work days where you walk around in a white lab coat. I wanted the late-night chats of us talking about our future together. I wanted the other side of the bed at my place to be yours. I wanted you to have space in my closet and dresser drawers. So when I saw you at Satoru’s party, it just reminded me that when I first saw you, it wasn’t per se—love at first sight. It was more; it’s going to be you.” Nanami said as he intertwined his fingers with yours.

“You’re going to make me ruin my makeup Ken,” You drop his hand to quickly grab a tissue from Shoko because his dabbing at your tears was causing you to be even more emotional.

“I’m sorry, my love, but you deserve to know that. I’m ready to be yours. I’m ready to protect, cherish, and love you and our daughter until my last breath. Because I’m still all in.” He concluded with tears in his eyes.

Your heart felt like it was clawing at your chest. As the wedding celebrant continued with the ceremony and it was time for Nanami to rightfully kiss his bride, he didn’t waste any time collecting you and planting a passionate kiss on your lips. His arms snake around your waist, tugging you closer than ever as the guests erupt in cheers. Your arms went around Nanami’s neck as you felt his tongue trace alongside your lower lip, begging for a taste of you. You teasingly pull away from the kiss with a smile as your forehead presses against his.

“I’m so happy to be all yours now.” You happily sighed.

“I’m so happy to be all yours also.” Nanami brings your hand to his lips, placing a kiss on it. “So grateful also.”

That was how you and Nanami's love story blossomed to where you guys are today. A doctor at Kyoto Jujutsu High, A salaryman slash Sorcerer, and your five-year-old daughter (who can see curses).

TAGS — @eiflawriting @maydayaisha @sailewhoremoon @stunnababyyabyyy @tyga-lily @neesiewrote @ner-dee @dior-fawn @animetypagirlsstuff @nathalunalune @kulemiwrites @cashae @sanjithesimp @jujutsukaisenfan @yamuverrrr @luvrgalore @eerenslvtt @sushiwrote @4522-08 @la-musaa @alinvert @si00p @kimorikuri @kenpachis-woman @sirenh4ll @intheewrld @bbytamaki @deeliciious @sukunalfetoverfingers

#nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x black reader #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #nanami kento fluff #female reader #black reader #nanami x reader #nanami x black reader #x black reader #anime x black reader

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anki-of-beleriand · 11 months

Text

A Heart Made of Glass ch.9

Summary: Ten years ago you left Wanda and the Avengers to heal your broken heart. You never stopped being a hero, just as you never stopped being in love with her. But life had to go on.

Now, after all that time, she is back and with her is a young woman needing help and an enemy that may not be as afraid as Wanda to lay a claim on you.

Pairings: Wanda Maximoff x Powered!F!Reader - Scarlet Witch x PoweredF!Reader - Past Wanda Maximoff x Vision - Powered!F!Reader x Carol Danvers

Warnings: Angst, drama, mentions of cheating, fluff, violence, smut, Switch!Reader, internalize homophobia, religious fanatisms, homopobia, hurt, comfort, Wanda being a complete mess, anger management issues, jealousy, Requited/Unrequited love, idiots in love, swearing, mentions of alcohol, violence, multiverse travelling. More tags as the story progess.

Author's Note: This story is a continuation of Dirty Little Secret I was really surprised at the response I got for the story, I did all the tags you guys ask for but if I forgot someone please do not hesitate to tell me. Thank you for the support.

I'm back!

And Carol Danvers is back as well. i'm sorry for the long delay, guys. But this chapter gave me some trouble before making some decisions as to where I wanted to take the story. I hope you like this new chapter, you will have action, flashbacks, and finally the worlds collide.

Remember that English is not my mother tongue so I apologise for the grammar, spelling and funny mistakes.

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 10

Chapter 9

The breaking of the storm

Three months ago – Stark Cabin - Fairburn, Georgia

It didn’t take her too long to locate the cabin.

She stood by the road for a very long time, debating with herself if it would be appropriated to approach the man living there. She was still wearing the clothes she wore to the funeral; the tears were still fresh on her face and the many memories in her mind were threatening to overwhelm her all over again.

The world had changed in the last five years she had been absent.

And yet, many things were still the same.

The service had been sweet, with a long sermon giving by an old priest that praised Steve for his courage and his life. Wanda had almost broken when the priest mentioned Bucky and how Steve’s love for him had made him stronger in the times of need. She listened as everything was revealed, as the lovers were uncovered in front of friends and family, and she realized right there and then everybody knew about it. And everybody accepted it, embraced it, and celebrated it.

“Sooner or later, Wanda, you will need to face the truth…than in all of this, it was you the only one that thought it inappropriate, that punished herself for something as pure as loving another human being.”

Steve’s words resounded inside her mind; Wanda had come to terms with what she couldn’t in her youth. Not only the mistakes of her past actions, but also to the thoughts she allowed herself to govern her decisions, in all reality, just as Steve had told her, her family would have never stopped loving her even if she chose another woman to be by her side. To be the love of her life, to marry and form a family with.

Times had certainly changed, and by the time Wanda had made a decision about her life and what she needed it to do, Thanos had come, and she had missed five years of her life. The sound of birds above her head broke her remembrance of another time; she shook her head and tried to step forward but was unable to do so.

Wanda Maximoff hesitated with her hands inside her pockets, the key to the old Avenger compound wrapped tightly around her hand. She chewed on her lower lip, turning around ready to leave until her eyes fell upon a young girl. She was no older than five years old, with auburn hair, and curious eyes she stood there glancing at Wanda while holding onto a metal glove that fit her small hand.

“Are you lost?” She asked, tilting her head, Morgan Stark took a step closer to the redhead while glancing left then right.

Wanda pressed her lips together shaking her head, “no, I’m not.”

Morgan furrowed her brows, her eyes narrowing slightly though her stance did not lose the easiness she carried with her. Wanda could see much of Stark in the young girl, there was intelligence behind her eyes and also a sense of confidence Wanda never possessed at her age.

“Then, what are you doing?” Morgan asked, this time around she pursed her lips pointing to the cabin. “Are you looking for daddy?”

Wanda sighed glancing down the road, her breath caught in her throat when her clear eyes fell upon the form of Tony Stark. The man was standing by the entrance of the cabin, his eyes completely focused on her and Morgan. With an uncomfortably shifted stance, Wanda glanced back to the girl that still had her eyes on her.

“Yes, I am.”

Morgan broke into an easy smile; she approached Wanda taking her hand in hers while dragging her all the way to the cabin.

“Silly, you can’t stay here. Daddy is having his afternoon tea.”

Tony Stark stood by the porch in his cabin, his heart had almost stopped the moment he realized Morgan had gone all the way to greet the strange newcomer only to realize this newcomer was no other than Wanda Maximoff. In his mind, five years had passed, but the old wounds as well as Wanda’s old transgressions were still fresh in Stark’s mind; he had not forgotten the moment she broke Y/N’s heart. Nor did he forget the fact Wanda sided with Steve when the world needed them the most; seeing her walking down the road with his daughter by her side only made him shiver in anticipation, his hand getting ready to access his armor if necessary.

“Wanda.” He couldn’t hide the coldness in his voice, the young woman winced trying to let go of Morgan’s hand but the young girl refused the gesture taking her past Tony.

“Come! Mommy brought some cupcakes and daddy has to eat his tea or he gets cranky.” Morgan turned to Tony, the innocence in her eyes didn’t allow her to notice the obvious tension between Wanda and Tony.

The man straightened up, his jaw clenching tightly while his eyes let Wanda know she was not welcomed. Wanda knew this, of course. She was risking a lot by reaching out to Tony, but in all honestly, he was her last option.

She didn’t have anyone else.

She was alone. Completely and utterly alone.

Tony dropped his shoulders placing a hand on Morgan’s head, before pointing with his head the house.

“Well, I guess we are stuck with one another for the time being.”

“You don’t have to…” Wanda started, but Tony shook his head.

“Morgan wants you here, come on.”

The house was like nothing Wanda remembered of Tony. There were many electronic devices and gadgets that Tony had adapted to his home, but otherwise this looked like a normal place. Nothing too fancy, and nothing too ostentatious. It was strange to set foot in a place that was not as extravagant as Tony had been once.

“I hope you two are…Wanda? What are you doing here?” Pepper stood by the hall with a tray filled with pastries and two white cups filled with tea.

Wanda offered a weak smile; her heart shrank at the incommodity this situation generated in her. She wished she had thought this through, but in reality, there was nothing she could do. She had been so lost at the funeral, she had been so devastated when she saw Y/N in the arms of another, when she realized after Steve’s death, she was alone.

“I’m sorry to come uninvited, Pepper.” She all but whispered. “I will be out of here in no time, I just…”

Pepper had been frowning at the young woman all this time, but something in her voice and her posture made Pepper softened slightly. She offered a motherly smile pointing to the love chair on the living room.

“Take a seat, Wanda, I will bring another cup of tea.”

Teatime went by uneventfully.

Morgan ended up filling up the silence with her stories, and the adults merely spoke whenever she spoke to them. Wanda couldn’t help the tension growing as the time passed, and the eyes of Tony kept on pinning her with anger and questions. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Pepper grabbed Morgan and left Tony and Wanda alone.

“You have some nerve coming in here, Wanda.” Tony finally commented leaning back on his chair. “I thought by now you would have left to get the normal life you have always wanted. Though, now that Vision is no longer alive, I guess you don’t have much from were to choose, am I right?”

Wanda winced at his honesty, she knew Tony and Natasha had been always advocates of Y/N and had always stood by her side after the incident. The young woman couldn’t help the tears pooling out her eyes, she swallowed down her sadness, trying to collect herself to start talking.

But she couldn’t.

“I…I…am sorry.” Wanda let down a whimper, her tears rolling down her eyes as the pain in her chest became unbearable. She stood on shaky legs, shaking her head while trying to make her way to the door. “I sh-shouldn’t…I will…I will leave…”

But as she said this, her heart crumbled and soon she was on the floor with Tony Stark wrapping his arms around her. Of all the people that she had gotten to know, Tony was the last one she ever thought would comfort her. They had such a troublesome past; she had hated him for so long only to develop respect and then a shaky form of friendship that had always been on the rocks for as long as they had fought on the side.

Now, Wanda couldn’t stop crying and Tony had acted out of instinct.

Wanda cried for herself, for the time she lost. For the things she had done, for Steve because he would no longer be there to comfort her and to be the family she had lost. For Y/N because she hated Wanda, and Wanda knew that regardless of her wrongdoings and her mistakes, she was still pretty much in love with her. Wanda cried because she let her old beliefs, and the words of sin and forbidden governed her decisions at some point.

Wanda cried because she was alone, and she had come to a world in which she was not welcome.

And then, when she thought nothing good could come of this meeting, she had the very same man she had always thought insufferable and narcissistic comforting her. Then a pair of small arms wrapped around her, and soon Wanda felt, for the very first time in a long time, the warmth of a family trying to pick up the pieces of her heart and lonely soul.

*****

Night had already fallen, and Morgan was already in bed by the time Wanda had stopped crying.

The warmth of the mug between her hands brough comfort to her cold chest, she glanced at the fire while trying to ease out her breathing and hearing Tony talk about what had happened after the Blip. She heard about his fight with Steve, how he had given his back to the Avengers to go and form a family with Pepper, how the world crumbled in the very first year before it started building itself.

Tony talked about Steve and Natasha, how they struggled to keep the team alive, to try and look for a solution while also helping the rest of the universe with the help of Rocket and Carol Danvers. He talked about Y/N, and Wanda couldn’t help the fluttering of her heart at the mention of Y/N and how she had been affected by the Blip, how she had met Carol and the bond had been formed.

“She missed you.” Pepper ignored the glare coming from Tony, her eyes were solely on Wanda who was looking back at her with a hopeful glint in her eyes. “Y/N was in a dark place after she saw you vanished into thin air.”

Wanda furrowed her brows at this, “she…she was there?”

Pepper and Tony nodded, and Wanda tried to remember that moment.

She knew you had arrived because your shadows had invaded the battlefield for a moment, but she never imagined you had gone and looked for her. Wanda never imagined Y/N had seen her disappear. Tony shifted on his chair pursing his lips while facing Wanda, his eyes demanding.

“She took it hard and was not the same for a while. Up until she and Carol started seeing one another.” Wanda winced at these words; she looked away trying to hide her pain, but Tony had already seen it. “What are you doing here, Wanda?”

Wanda glanced at the beverage in the mug, she thought about you for a long time. She thought about your voice and laughter, how happy you had seemed with the blond-haired woman back at the funeral. The young woman lifted her face, new tears rolling down her cheeks.

“I’m…I came here to ask for your permission.” She finally said, Tony blinked confusedly at her.

“Permission for what?”

“The…the Avengers compound.” Wanda mumbled. “I know it’s still active but empty and…I… I really don’t have a place to stay. I just…”

“You are alone.” Tony stated not without a tone of reproach in his tone. “This is your own doing, Wanda. I hope you know that.”

Wanda didn’t react at all, but her lips broke into a broken smile.

“I made so many mistakes, Tony.” Wanda all but whispered. “The only thing I did right was…was being with her.”

“And yet, you broke her heart in the worst possible way.” Tony replied, the old anger dripping from his words.

“I know.” Wanda placed a hand on her forehead, she had nothing to lose at the moment and her words came rushing in. Not to give an explanation, she didn’t think her actions have one, but she just needed to let everything out.

For the very first time, she would talk with all honestly to someone that wasn’t Steve.

“I was so afraid to give in, to allow myself to be seen with her.” Wanda hiccupped placing a hand on her mouth, tears rolling silently down her cheeks. “My mother…my father…They always talked to me about sin, I knew what I had always feel, what I am…was a sin. Papa found me once, and he…I never forgot his lesson. I knew I was wrong, and when I saw her and knew I couldn’t breathe without Y/n I just…I was failing papa and mama…you know?”

Wanda shook her head, a gasp leaving her lips while her hand closed tightly around her chest.

“I had failed them, they had died, and I had failed them…time and time again, I failed and then…” Wanda shrugged. “I fell in love with her and I just…I let my family die, I couldn’t…I couldn’t be happy, I shouldn’t…I should do what they wanted of me I just…”

Pepper softened her features, watching the confusion, the conflict running wildly through those green eyes. But Tony remained impassive, hearing everything without giving anything away.

“I just…I couldn’t let them down, them and Pietro and…god, Y/N was just…I was feeling so much…I realized I wanted to have her children, that I wanted…I wanted to leave my powers and…” Wanda suddenly looked desperate, lost, and hopeless. “I know I mess up, Tony, I’m not asking for your forgiveness...I just…I just need a home.”

Wanda broke at the very end; Tony lowered his gaze before settling his eyes on Pepper. For the very first time, Tony wondered what would have happened if Pepper had given up on him. How many times had she discovered him with another woman, how many times she had seen him flirt his way through the parties before he realized that Pepper was all he needed. Y/N had been hurt deeply by Wanda, it was quite evident Wanda didn’t know the extent of Y/N’s feelings for her or what she was ready to do for Wanda.

And yet, Wanda was ready to do the same, but her mind was being tormented by old believes, and the fear of failing her family. The fear of falling into sin, of being less than what was expected of her.

“I know I’m going to pay my whole life for my mistakes, Tony. I know she…” Wanda wrapped her hands tightly around the mug, lowering her gaze she continued with a shaky voice. “I have broken everything that was good for me, and I deserve to be alone. I just…I’m tired.”

Tony stood up making his way to where Wanda was sitting, he knelt down placing a single hand on hers. His face was solemn, and for the very first time he allowed himself to see Wanda the way she was. A young woman lost, not knowing what to do or what road to follow, someone who wanted to be loved, but that didn’t want to fail those she loved anymore.

Ten years were a long time for him to keep a grudge, and for Wanda to still being put down and being ripped from what she really wanted.

“You can stay here tonight, Wanda.” Tony squeezed her hand comfortingly. “You have a home here, and we can talk more tomorrow. The compound is yours if you want to, but for now let me take you to your room. You must be really tired.”

Wanda wrapped her arms around Tony, a small weight lifted from her heart, and a huge void in her soul filled by the affection she felt for the man hugging her tightly. After that day, Wanda would spend five more days in Tony’s home, and she would cry while trying to let out everything she had kept for herself.

The morning of the fifth day was sunny and filled with a warm breeze.

Morgan was checking out the car Tony had given Wanda, while Wanda was trying to reject the gift. Tony shook his head placing the keys in the young woman’s hand, his eyes gleaming warmly while he also extended a mobile.

“You will find my number in there. But…” Here Tony trailed off before speaking again. “You will find Y/N’s number and location.”

Wanda opened her eyes wide, her hand trembling at this revelation. Her lower lip quivered, and she was left speechless for a moment.

“I don’t think…”

“You told me you wanted to talk to her, to mend things, didn’t you?”

“Y-yes, I did but…”

“Or, were you pretending to be interested in patching things up with Y/N?”

“No, no Tony I do but…” Here Wanda trailed off glancing at the phone with trepidation. “She hates me. She…she really despises me.”

“She does.” Tony stated shrugging. “But you don’t.”

Wanda lowered her gaze, her cheeks burning in embarrassment.

“Now, I understand many things, Wanda, and it is time for Y/N to know them as well.”

Wanda shook her head, the fear of a confrontation with you was something that haunted her sleep. There was nothing else she wanted more than to go back to you, but she knew she was late. She was always too late.

Tony closed his hands around hers, the items firmly placed in her hand.

“Talk to her. Perhaps, it won’t be what you want, but being friends could be a start.” Tony then offered a smile, nodding to the car. “Go, get settle, and when you have decided, just call and the ticket to her home would be ready for you.”

Wanda threw herself at Tony, and this gesture caught the older man by surprised. But he returned the hug, and he realized that having a family, having Morgan had changed his vision of the world. And now, he didn’t want Wanda to go around suffering needlessly.

“Don’t wait to long, Little Witch.” He whispered choosing Y/N’s nickname for her. “Go and chase happiness, you will always have a home here.”

“Thank you, Tony.”

Wanda left the place with a lighter heart, and hope in her heart. She glanced at the phone on the passenger’s seat with titillation growing in her abdomen and spreading to her chest.

Perhaps…

Wanda swallowed down and dared not to hope. First things first, she would go to the compound and after that…after that you would look for Y/N. This time around, she was ready to do everything she could to redeem herself and have a chance with Y/N; Wanda drove down the road never noticing the eyes sneaking in the reflection or the purple mist engulfing her mind.

_____________________________________________________________

Present day – Former Avenger’s Tower - New York

The place had never been this packed ever since Loki came crashing down with the Chitauri on his attempt to conquer earth. Tony served some of the drinks, his eyes going over an over to the impatient form of one Carol Danvers, the woman hadn’t stopped looking at her watch and her mobile ever since they got in there with Monica Rambeau.

Natasha grabbed two glasses, winking at Tony who merely snorted while observing the interaction. Carol turned sharply to Natasha, her lips curling lightly into a smile while she received the glass of whiskey she was being offered.

“So, how did you find earth so far?” Natasha was not one to make small talk, and Tony had a feeling he knew why exactly the Black Widow was trying to stall the other woman’s stay in the tower.

You and Wanda were finally left alone to have the long-awaited conversation you deserved to have with one another. Tony then took the other glass walking towards Strange who had dropped on the nearest sofa, with a hand covering his face.

Carol took a sip from the beverage, glancing down to her mobile then back up to a smirking Natasha. The young woman hated the fact Natasha had the knowing glint in her eyes.

“So, are you in a rush?” Carol rolled her eyes at the questions, her lips breaking into an easy smile shaking her head.

“I am.” Carol sighed glancing at Natasha with expectation. “How is she?”

Natasha held Carol’s stare for a moment before shrugging, “she is fine, right now all of us are dealing with the current crisis trying to help America and find a solution.”

Carol clenched her hand around the glass, Natasha heard the cracking sound of the glass though Carol was trying to apply all her self-restrained as to not break the glass. By now, she already knew you were not alone, and that America had gone to you for help with no other than Wanda Maximoff. Carol would be lying if she didn’t admit a part of her was highly jealous of this meeting, she knew as well as everyone else that your love for the red-head witch was something still latent in your heart.

A wave of sudden sadness and uncertainty reached Carol, and the woman jerked away when another hand placed itself on her forearm. Natasha offered the comfort of a single smile, her eyes gleaming with sympathy and understanding.

“Don’t worry, this meeting won’t take long and you will have a chance to go right to her without waiting for me or the Quinjet.” There was a teasing tone in Natasha’s voice, Carol tried to relax but her mind was full of uncertainties, and her heart was aching to see you.

“I know…and I know this is important.” Here she made a face turning her attention to Monica then to Strange. “It seems Maximoff has created a huge trouble, and as always some of us are here cleaning up her mess, right?”

Natasha pursed her lips at this declaration, “It’s not her fault, not completely.”

“I’m not so sure about that.” This time around Strange was the one to talk, he straightened up his back, all eyes of the presents were on him.

The man was looking terrible, with bags under his eyes and the clothes completely messed, it seemed as if he hadn’t sleep for weeks. He probably hadn’t. Tony sat down nodding towards Stephen, glancing at the group before emptying the glass in a single gulp.

“Okay, then, start talking Strange, we’re delaying the space princess over there, and I don’t think she has more patience for this.”

Carol rolled her eyes looking away to try and hide her red cheeks, Natasha chuckled, squeezing her forearm tenderly before joining Tony and Monica. Carol glanced at her forearm before she too joined them with the same trepidation she had been feeling from the very beginning.

“As far as we could find with Wong, Wanda and this woman…Agatha were in possession of the Darkhold.” Strange spoke waving his hands, some of this they already knew but his explanation had to start there. “As I explained to you before, this book is highly dangerous, containing spells that could granted destructive powers to whomever gets a hold of it. One of such spells is called dream walking.”

Tony pursed his lips leaning forward, his elbows resting on his knees.

“You told us this book was missing, alongside the woman Wanda was supposed to trap in the real Westview, right?”

“She didn’t do a very good job, did she?” This time around it was Carol the one to speak, the woman sat down pinning Strange with her eyes. “So, this dream walking ability, what does it do, exactly?”

Strange didn’t know how to explain the technique, he knew as soon as he started talking about it many of them would jump to the same conclusion he did. Though, his own theory still had many holes that he wasn’t sure how to fill in; he let out a heavy sigh hoping once Wong was back, he would have more answers.

“Basically, it is a technique that allows its user to use their counterpart across the multiverse. They can possess their other variants but…” Stephen scratched the back of his head, his eyes focused on every single one of the presents before they settled on Natasha. “The stronger the sorcerer or the witch, the stronger the spell, they can maintain it for a long time, and they are capable of creating the very same creatures that had been chasing America through the multiverse.”

“You are thinking about someone, aren’t you?” Carol crossed her arms shaking her head. “You think it’s Maximoff?”

Natasha shook her head, her hand waving away at this while she glared at the blond.

“Wait a second, Wanda made many mistakes in the past, but this is on a whole new level…”

“I agree with Romanoff.” Tony stated glaring at Carol. “Wanda may have made many mistakes, but this particular case we are talking about murdering to get to an innocent kid…”

“She created and slaved a whole town, I mean…” Carol said shrugging, she turned to Strange nodding. “Besides, I don’t see Strange fighting much my affirmation.”

Everyone turned to Stephen who was looking at some point on the floor, the man sighed lifting his face nodding.

“That’s my theory, actually.” Stephen lifted a hand to stop any arguments, he locked eyes with Tony trying to appear as the voice of reason. “However, I do agree with you. This Wanda, our Wanda has gone through so much…I don’t think it is her, perse.”

Monica furrowed her brows tilting her head, “what exactly do you mean with our Wanda? You mean…”

“I think it may be another version of her.” Stephen stated firmly.

Everyone jumped startled when a glass fell to the ground, Natasha opened her eyes wide turning to Stephen. She was paled, as if all of a sudden, she saw a ghost.

“Dream walking…is it possible…is it possible that they can show themselves in dreams to other people?” Natasha asked. “It is possible for them to…make physical damage through the dreams?”

Stephen opened his eyes at this, he stood up rather fast striding towards Natasha while placing his hands on the Widow’s shoulders.

“What exactly has happened, Romanoff?”

Natasha felt her world turned around, dizziness overcome her as she remember you telling her about your dreams. The hickey…the scratches… and right there and then, Natasha knew you were in trouble. Carol observed the scene and went from Natasha to Stephen and then back, she clenched her jaw understanding without any more words what was happening. She turned around and went right through the window without hearing the screams from Monica and Natasha for her to stop.

Carol would not wait. You were in danger, and she was not about to let anyone harm you. Much less Wanda Maximoff.

______________________________________________________________

The city of Ulsteinvik was filled with snow and wintery activities that include Winter festival in which the shipyard became the main attraction.

School was over for the day, and many had been invited over to the main festivities that would welcome the weekend. America was bouncing reluctantly around her classmates, her eyes drifting to where you were standing near the car with Vera and other teachers around. She put the jacket around herself, her eyes drifting around until they fell on Wanda; the young woman was strolling down the streets watching everything in awe while trying to locate America and Y/N.

“Hey, America, are you coming?” America turned around to see one of her classmates calling to her, she hesitated nodding pointing in the general direction.

“I will, give me five!”

Wanda smiled at the approaching figure of America; she observed as the teen waved her friends before making her way towards her. America was smiling, her face beaming with emotion at being part of something as mundane as a festival, but also knowing this was the chance she was looking for. The last two days, you and Wanda had been civil around one another, and little by little you had been lowering your defenses to try and get closer to Wanda.

Everything was going according to plan.

“Hey, Wands!” America wrapped her arms tightly around the redhead, Wanda offered a tiny smile fixing America’s hair while pointing to the group of teens waiting at the other end of the street.

“Aren’t you embarrassed to be showing such affection towards me?” The comment was meant to be a joke, Wand didn’t pretend to be nothing else but an acquaintance of America.

The young woman crunched up her nose shaking her head, “Never, Wands you are like…I…you are family.”

Both shifted awkwardly, the conversation dying for a moment until both of you heard your laughter. Vera was rubbing your arm, laughing at something someone else had said; America scowled at her closeness, and she could see that Wanda was not happy with it either. The young woman took that moment to call upon you, making sure everyone turned to see her and Wanda waiting.

“Y/N!! We’re here!” Wanda opened her eyes wide; she saw the glint of mischief in America’s eyes but before she could say something you had already gotten there, your lips breaking into an easy smile.

“Hey, kiddo, ready for the festival?” You passed your arm around her shoulders, America nodded grabbing Wanda’s hand and putting her closer to you.

For a brief moment, America could sense the tension around the three of you. Wanda was almost touching your arms, and you were close enough to see her clear, green eyes gleaming warmly at you. Something inside your heart shifted, and you knew glancing at those eyes was dangerous.

“I am, but I just…” America trailed off looking back at her friends. “I mean, Wanda came over and Kathe and the others are waiting…”

The breeze went pass you brushing your heated skin for a moment, you shot America a quick glance trying to gauge her real intensions but not seeing anything beyond her eagerness to be a part of the festival. Wanda was holding her breath; her whole body was hurting due to the tension she was putting on her posture.

“Go on, I take care of Wanda.” You finally replied, the words of Natasha running around your mind as you realized this could be a chance to have that conversation you have been avoiding the last couple of days.

“Good, you guys are awesome!” She hugged the both of you at the same time before walking back waving. “See you in few!”

A long uncomfortable silence filled the space left by America.

You stood there feeling a pair of eyes on the back of your neck, and you were pretty sure Wanda and Vera had their attention on you. The last couple of days had been strange, to say the least. Wanda, America, and you had been left alone with a great house and a feeling of familiarity you hadn’t felt in a long time. The last conversation you had with Natasha and Yelena had been dancing around your mind ever since they left, and the intensity of those conversations only increased whenever you were alone with Wanda.

And she had been in your mind at all times.

Even when you were dreaming.

The conversation you knew the both of you needed to have had been postponed mainly because you were a coward. And you didn’t want to fall all over again in the same pattern with Wanda, this time around you needed to let everything out and make sure Wanda understood how badly she had messed up.

“You don’t have to, you know?” Wanda broke the silence, her eyes downcast and her posture showing the defeat she had been feeling as of late. “I…I understand and you don’t…I know you don’t want to…”

Wanda shook her head, thinking herself and idiot for thinking perhaps you would want to talk to her, that perhaps this day was what they needed to start building a shaky friendship. But of course, your resentment was strong, and Wanda could not pretend to have the conversation she was dying to have with you to happen anytime soon.

The young witch was turning around ready to stroll around the city before going home when a warm hand wrapped around her wrist. She stopped death on her tracks, turning to face you and finding uncertainty in your eyes.

“Where are you going?” You furrowed your brows, uncertainty filling your mind. You were hoping to break the huge wall that was between you and Wanda, to try and lower your defense and start the process of forgiveness.

To finally hear the advice from Tony, Natasha and even Yelena.

“I…I just thought…” Wanda tried to speak but she had distracted herself with your hand holding her wrist, your eyes glancing at her intently. “I just thought I…walk around the city, you can…I know you must be busy.”

This kind of thing used to be easier.

You remembered all those times in which you would merely whisper a plan, and Wanda was dragging you around to comply with them. Now, everything was uncertain, and your mind kept on playing the treason but also the moments in which Wanda had been hurt, lost…miserable. You took a deep breath, taking a step closer to her, you let go of her hand and made sure she was listening to you.

“I would like to talk to you, I think this is a long overdue conversation between you and me.” You mumbled shrugging. “But, I don’t want to make you do something you don’t want to…”

“I do!” Wanda blushed at the abruptness of her answer, she almost fell on her face while trying to hold her emotions.

You couldn’t help but snicker, Wanda wincing before nodding briefly.

“Yes, I think…we…we need to talk.”

“Good then, now that we’re on the same page I know a place you may like, wanna come?” You offered a single smile, that Wanda returned tentatively.

You were very conscious of the growing tension between Wanda and yourself.

It was something you had been living with in the last couple of months since the witch returned to your life. It was almost impossible not to experience it after the myriad of emotions going through your system whenever you thought of Wanda Maximoff.

Now that the both of you were finally alone by circumstances, more so than by election, and the conversation you and her never have was something quite inevitable right now. The streets of Ulsteinvik were filled with people all making their way to the harbor and the shipyard, the conversation in a mixture of Norwegian and English made a cacophony of sounds that surrounded Wanda distracted her from her current situation, her mind had been a pool of thoughts and emotions she had been too scare to face but now that she had the possibility, she wasn’t sure how to approach.

Her eyes fell upon your figure, the confidence with which you strolled down the streets made her falter. A tingle filled with anticipation started growing on her stomach, and it spread out to her chest and limbs; Wanda was trying to organize her thoughts, to think on what to say…she thought she was prepared for this confrontation but, as you guide her inside a café and requested for something warm while sitting in front of her she realized, she was not ready.

“You mingled with the people around here quite well.” Wanda commented lightly, lowering her gaze to the table while wiggling her hands. “You have been living here for a long time, right?”

You pursed your lips nodding curtly, if Wanda was nervous about this conversation, you were ready to explode from anxiety this brought to you. Right there was Wanda, as you had always imagined her. Her long hair falling in waves around her shoulders and back, her deep green eyes gleaming with uncertainty and shyness like that very first meeting in which you bowed to love her. How many years had passed since then? How many wounds? How many treasons?

The waitress offered a kind smile while placing the cups on the table.

The warmness of the liquid brushed your mouth, and helped you distract yourself from the inevitable. Wanda played with a napkin, her gestures revealing the same nervousness you had been hiding ever since she got to your place.

“I have been living here for seven years.” You finally revealed leaning back on the chair, your eyes wandering around refusing to look at the woman sitting in front of you. “This place was refreshing for me, a new beginning.”

Wanda chewed on her lower lip, her trembling hands grabbing the porcelain cup warming up her sweaty palms.

“Can I…” She hesitated lifting her face only to see your eyes on her, you nodded curtly raising a single eyebrow at her. Wanda shivered before asking her question. “Can I know what you did before coming here?”

Wanda had never heard of you after you left the Avengers’ compound, you had disappeared and no one, not even Natasha, was able to provide any news about your whereabouts. You tensed lightly remembering those dark times in your life, the traveling through the shadows and accepting random jobs to get some money and make yourself forget the pain of your broken heart.

You rested your hands on the table, knitting your brows together you pursed your lips thinking about an answer. Your whole body ignited when her hand placed itself on yours, and her eyes were showing regret and begging for you to forgive her.

“You don’t…you don’t have to tell me, I just…” Wanda sighed squeezing your hand tenderly. “I was just curious.”

“I was in a dark place, Wanda.” The sound of the customers filling out the café made this conversation a private one, Wanda went rigid at these words.

Your eyes fell on your hands still wrapped comfortingly under hers, your heart was beating fast and a part of you wished you weren’t in love with her anymore. That your heart had healed enough for the woman sitting in front of you to not affect you the way she was doing at the moment.

“I’m sorry.” Wanda whispered, tears rolling down her cheeks, her words carrying with them the weight of your history with her.

You shrugged bitterly, taking your hand away from her while drinking your coffee.

“It doesn’t matter, I was hurt and lost and I just need a way to vent over my frustrations and my pain.”

“Y/N…” Wanda started but now that you had spoken it was impossible for you to stop.

You clenched your eyes closed, before making sure Wanda was hearing everything you had to say. Everything you had always wanted to say to her.

“I was broken, Wanda, I…travel around trying to harm myself, to make my physical pain greater than my emotional one.” You let out a snort looking out of the window. “I didn’t make it, and I grew tired…that was when I let Natasha find me.”

Wanda heard as you told her everything you had done, and a part of her felt grateful for this. It was the very first time she had accessed you, in a way she had lost after that day. You told her about your misgivings, about your findings, how you came to Norway and ended up being a double agent for Tony and Steve. You told her about your falling out with Steve when the man tried to make you find reason and confront Wanda.

“Then, a few months ago I received some tapes…” You shrugged, tired and suddenly lighter, “Westview…my anger and resentment were back and now…I can’t keep living my life hating you, Wanda. I can’t live my life with resentments and without daring to look at you. Not anymore.”

Wanda wrapped her arms around herself, she didn’t know what to say or how to react to your story. The side of the story she had always been curious about, but no one was ready to reveal to her. She heard about your lovers, and her heart broke into a million pieces knowing you had found comfort in other’s arms. She knew she didn’t deserve your forgiveness, the knowledge of you forgetting about her little by little brought pain she had been experiencing all her life.

“It was never my intention to hurt you, Y/N.” She all but whispered, you snorted shrugging once more. Your lips broke into a bitter smile while your eyes shone with unshed tears.

“We can’t help who we fall in love with, right?” You replied in a broken tone, Wanda scrunched up her nose ready to be honest with you for the very first time in a long time.

“I wasn’t in love with Vision.” Wanda noticed the shredded napkin on her hands, her heart was beating painfully hard against her ribcage while she made herself look at you.

Your back and shoulders were hurting for all the tension you were putting in them, this revelation was something you were not expecting. Your eyes finally looked with those of Wanda, and for a brief moment you saw red swirling around her green irises. The dreams that had been plaguing your for a long time coming in several images, Wanda and Scarlet mixing up just as you heard her voice.

Mine. Only mine.

As much as I have always been yours, my love.

“You have a funny way to show you are not in love with him.” You broke the spell shaking your head, frowning while clenching your fists. “You slept with him, and then you spend your time travelling with him, that and let’s not forget Westview and the happy family you had there.”

Anger was far easier than any other emotion, you clenched your jaw watching as Wanda broke in front of you. So much different than Scarlet, and yet…

“I was never in love with him. I was just…a coward. I was afraid.” She mumbled, her head pulsating painfully. Sparks of red appearing on her fingertips, and the blackness she had come to associate with her blackouts flickering in and out of her fingers as she spoke.

“You’re telling me you…you cheated on me with someone you didn’t even love?” You clenched your jaw putting money out of your pocket and leaving it on the table.

Wanda watched as you stood up and left, she hesitated, the pain inside her head almost unbearable a tug on her abdomen making her stand up and follow you.

“I…yes! Yes! I…god, Y/N, I was afraid and I was confused and I just…” Wanda followed you speaking louder, she didn’t realize she was crying until the cold winter wind touch her face. “I didn’t know…It went against everything I had been taught and my parents…my brother…I thought…”

“I was in love with you, Wanda!” You turned around screaming at the top of your lungs. “ I had the ring, and the house…I even had the names of our children…”

“I know…I found them in the compound, I just…” And Wanda felt the pulsating pain in her head mixing up with her thoughts. Scarlet tried to push the other woman away, tried to tell you that the children were yours…that she had seen it all and that she had created the world for you and her, but at some point, her counterpart, this Wanda had messed up.

The people walking down the streets all turned to look at you and Wanda, the both of you were close enough to touch one another yet it was quite evident there was a distance neither one of you knew how to close. Wanda winced hugging herself tightly, she opened her mouth and closed, the push inside her chest breaking her resolution and her eyes gleamed red for a brief moment until you finally saw it.

One red.

One green.

Her voice, their voices…sounding like one.

“I have lost everything, Y/N. I lost my parents, and I lost myself in hatred and revenge, I gave myself to be an experiment, and then I lost Pietro.” Wanda spoke with a broken voice, she shook her head trying to tell you how she felt. “I could never tell you…you were such…god, you were such a powerful force that made me feel I could do anything, I could be anyone…but then…they started talking about the reconstruction of Sokovia, and Tony brought my parents to be buried alongside Pietro.”

You were trembling in rage and helplessness, Wanda talking about her upbringing. She talked about her mother’s teachings, the church’s teachings and what was expected of her. Wanda spoke about the fears she was not brave enough to tell you for fear of your rejection. She spoke of her papa, and how he had taught her a lesson at some point when she showed her attraction for another woman. The confusion she felt when Vision approached her with a speech about logic, biology and philosophy, about the wrongness of what she was feeling, but also about the nature behind experimenting.

“I couldn’t I just…I didn’t…” Wanda almost felt on her knees, but you were faster than her. She rested against your body, crying with tension building around her body refusing to return your embrace. And in all of this you saw them, Wanda and Scarlet, and your fears and suspicions were clarified at that moment.

They were one and the same, yet two different entities.

“I’m sorry, I never…you…I don’t know why Westview…but they are yours…just yours…” Wanda was crying now trying to get away from you. “I just messed up…I…I’m so broken I just…”

Your heart broke at the sight.

It didn’t justify her, and in all honestly the conversation had not been clear enough. But a part of you, the one that had been running in fear for what you were and who you are, understood.

“I’m sorry.” Wanda repeated over and over, and you put her tighter against yourself.

“It’s…It’s okay.” You mumbled placing a comforting kiss on her head. “It’s okay, Wanda.”

“I can’t…I couldn’t…” Wanda cried softly, and Scarlet pushed through what Wanda had to say all along. “I love you…I…never…I never stop and you…”

Scarlet stirred inside Wanda; she was so close.

It was the right time to make her move. Scarlet was finally at her breaking point, your warmness and your words, the feeling of your skin and your kisses. It was time to get rid of Wanda and for her to come forth. America was around the city and Natasha and Yelena were no longer there.

This time around, the spell would be successful, and Billy and Tommy would be back. And no one would dare to intervene.

“N-No…N-no, please, not…not again…” Wanda screamed in pain, and just as Scarlet was ready to come forth, the humming sound of a flying object approaching broke into the sky.

You tensed.

That humming was familiar, and the hairs at the back of your neck stood up at the energy surrounding such an individual.

You were so distracted you never noticed when the green eyes were lost replaced by the crimson of Scarlet. When you lowered your gaze, the woman was smiling at you, this time around she was not afraid to wrap her arms around you.

“You are mine, detka. Finally.”

“Get your hands away from her, Maximoff!” The golden blast almost made you falter, but your shadows and Scarlet’s reflex were enough to prevent the blast for harming any of you.

Carol Danvers landed with a heavy step, the blasting of energy coming out to put Wanda away from you. The shadows engulfed you separating you from Wanda, while at the same time protecting the redhead form any harms.

“You!” Scarlet growled out, her hands wriggling around with a red mist, while her fingertips started taking in a black colouring. “I won’t let you take her away from me!”

Carol advanced ready to fight the other woman, you opened your eyes wide.

Scarlet wasn’t the only one there.

The red mixed up with purple, and the sky started igniting with runes you had never seen before. The world started trembling, and the smirk Scarlet was wearing told you she was the one working on her magic.

“Carol, wait!” You approached both women, Carol hesitated turning to you with a concern frown when she noticed the blood on your forehead.

“Y/N…” She whispered turning to you, “Strange told us he thinks it is her…”

“I know.” You replied running to the blond woman, Scarlet clenched her jaw refusing to see as Carol’s hand went to your forehead cleaning up the blood in there.

“You knew?” Carol scowled turning her golden eyes to Wanda.

“You won’t have her, Y/N is mine and no one will get in the way.”

At that moment several things happened.

Carol decided to attack Scarlet without hearing your screams of warning, your powers igniting to try and prevent an ever-bigger incident when Scarlet exploded in a bubbled of red mist while the sky above your heads went purple and the runes shone with energy.

Everything around you went black and then, all of a sudden you knew no more.

______________________________________________________________

You heard the beeping of the machines breaking into your unconscious state.

Your body shivered, and this only made you aware of the deep pain you were experimenting. You opened your mouth, for a minute it took all your energy to get out the simplest of moans charged with pure pain. You tried to remember what had happened, what you did and what exactly did Scarlet and Carol did to put you in such a state.

Your eyelids were heavy, but you tried to open your eyes to see exactly where you were at.

Another moan, this one firmer. Your eyes fluttered open, and you had to blink a couple of times due to the intensity of the light.

“MOMMA!”

“MOM!”

Whatever pain you were experimenting, whatever reluctance you had in regards to opening your eyes completely were soon forgotten when you heard those voices. Two boys voices.

You sat up sharply, this time around a scream of pain left your lips, but your eyes were seeing blurry trying to focus on the two figures standing by your bed. Their little hands grabbing yours, and as you blinked away you started focusing them.

“Momma, momma you’re alive!” One of them said hugging you tightly.

You blinked trying to get away, looking around desperately until you saw her.

Wanda Maximoff standing by the door, heavy bags under her puffy eyes. The tears still fresh and she came right at you closing the space in between you and her, her lips soft and tender against yours. For a brief moment you forgot about everything, your head tilting to deepen the kiss, to get reacquainted with Wanda’s taste. The softness of her lips, the warmness of her body…god you missed kissing her.

“God, detka I though…” She whispered smiling soppily when the twins made gagging sounds at the display of affection.

Wanda smiled at you leaning in to get another kiss, but you backed away almost falling from the bed finally registering what was happening. What you had done moments ago and what the woman in front of you was trying to do.

“What the fuck did you do, Scarlet?!! Where am I?! Where is Carol?”

Wanda stood right away, her hands spreading out protectively in front of the twins. She furrowed her brows tilting her head at you.

“Y/N?” She asked tentatively, you were about to speak but a wave of nausea came right at you.

“What’s…what’s going on?” You asked just before falling unconscious on the bed.

Wanda stood there for a moment, Billy pulling at her hand while glancing at your unconscious form.

“Mom, is momma okay?”

“Yes, dear, she is just…” Wanda trailed off turning to the boys. “Momma hurt herself really bad. Go find uncle Steve and Uncle Pietro.”

Tommy and Billy hesitated but then they nodded and left.

Wanda turned to you stepping closer, her hand placing itself on your forehead, while her eyes gleamed red. She hated to do this, it was an unspoken rule for her to never enter the heads of her friends and family. But your reaction, your questions…and what had happened with Strange’s death and the disappearance of America was enough for her to do this.

“I’m sorry my love, I promise you I won’t look beyond what I need to see.” She leaned in placing a kiss on your forehead, reading inside your mind until a whimper left her mouth. She opened her eyes big, stepping back just on time for Steve and Pietro to show at the door.

“Wanda?” Steve asked tentatively, Wanda turned to him nodding.

“I found America, and she…she is not my wife.” Wanda then wrapped her arms around her boys looking back at you then at Steve. “We are in serious trouble.”

______________________________________________________________

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Please, tell me if I forgot anyone.

#wanda maximoff #female Reader #You #Y/N #Wanda Maximoff x Female Reader #WandaxReader #WandaxFemale!Reader #Wanda Maximoff x Female! reader #Wanda Maximoff x F!Reader #imagine wanda maximoff #MoM AU #Marvel AU

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threewaywithdelusion · 10 months

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I Forgot What I Called This on AO3 (Stranger Things Fanfiction)

Because AO3 is down and I'm posting my fanfic over here for people to read. If you search "Mia writes fanfic" on my page, you can see all the fic I've posted here

Steve had been getting things ready for the kids all week and they were arriving tomorrow morning and he definitely wasn’t losing his mind. Robin had called him a mother hen three times already and had taken to just smiling fondly and rolling her eyes as Steve moved the couch for the twelfth time, trying to make sure Max’s wheelchair would fit through the tight space.

“It’ll be fine, Dingus,” she said for the millionth time. “The kids love you and they’re going to keep on loving you even if you don’t move our coffee table three inches to the left.”

Steve scowled. “You say that, but if Max hits the table Lucas is going to bite my head off. And Dustin will say something about how if I’d paid more attention in math or physics or wherever the hell you learn this stuff, I would have known to move the table three inches to the left. And then-“

“And then nothing!” Robin said. She set her glass of wine down on the floor — Steve winced, knowing she was going to trip over it later — and came over to take his hands. “They’ll still love you exactly the same. They’re your kids.”

“I haven’t seen them since Christmas!” Steve said.

Robin gave him a fond look. “It’s been three months, Steve. They haven’t forgotten you in that time. Now sit down with me before you give yourself gray hairs and ruin that pretty head of yours.”

Steve took a deep breath and followed Robin to the newly-relocated sofa, picking up her glass of wine and handing it to her moments before she could kick it.

Steve picked up his own glass of wine, which he’d barely touched.

“To our last moments of peace and quiet,” Robin said.

Steve knocked his glass against hers.

***

The kids looked so grown-up.

Lucas was insanely tall and he looked like a proper, put-together adult, pushing Max’s wheelchair with one hand and carrying two duffel bags on his shoulder. He’d clearly been working out and his clothes were a little trendier than what he used to wear. He was the only one of the three to have already turned eighteen, and Steve couldn’t believe how quickly he was growing up.

Max also looked completely different from the kid Steve had first met. There were the things strangers noticed about her first — the milky-white eyes she refused to hide behind sunglasses, even when the lights gave her headaches, and the wheelchair — but she’d also cut most off that long red hair off. She had a short cut which she’d spiked up with hair gel and Farrah Fawcett hairspray — Steve had taught her how to do it, over a year ago — and it made her look badass and alternative and like she was comfortable with herself.

Dustin still wore his nerdy baseball cap, but his curls had grown out past his shoulders — an homage to Eddie — and still wore a nerdy shirt with a button up over it. Of all the kids, he looked the most the same, the most like the thirteen-year-old who had dragged Steve into his life with a hunt for a missing demodog.

Steve loved them all so much.

He ran towards them, ignoring Robin’s “they’re walking this way anyway!” and immediately pulled Dustin into a hug. Dustin dropped his suitcase to return it, holding Steve tightly and already chattering away.

They rocked from side to side for a moment.

“I thought California was supposed to make you tan, but you look the same,” Dustin said.

Steve gave a watery laugh and pulled out of the hug. “I missed you too, you dick.”

“Is Steve crying?” Max asked.

“No!” Steve protested.

Max raised her eyebrows judgmentally. “Are you lying to the blind girl?”

Lucas grinned, leaning on the back of her wheelchair. “Not cool, Steve.”

Steve stepped around Dustin and Lucas came over to give Steve a hug. God he was so fucking tall.

Behind him, Steve could hear Robin greeting Dustin.

Steve bent down to give Max a hug too. She squeezed him, then traced over his head before letting him pull back.

“Did you cut your hair?” she asked.

“A bit,” Steve told her. “There’s a longer floppy bit in the front, but it’s shorter all around.”

Max tilted her head. “Does it look good?”

“Of course!” Steve scoffed, right as Lucas said “eh.”

Steve snapped his fingers at Lucas. “You’re dead to me, Sinclair.”

“So your hair got worse and you’re pasty, Steve?” Max teased. “What have you been doing out here?”

“I’ll have you know that I look amazing,” Steve told her. “Lucas and Dustin are just liars.”

“You are pasty!” Dustin protested.

“It’s okay, I don’t have to see it,” Max said. She put a hand over her heart. “I’ll always remember you fondly, the way you looked on Lovers Lake.”

Steve grinned. He’d heard this story many times over the years and he always loved it, even though the details tended to change depending on whether Max, Lucas, or Dustin was telling it.

Lucas scowled. “Forget him! You should remember how hot I looked!”

Max reached behind her and Lucas put his hand where she could find it just so that she could pat it condescendingly. “I remember, baby. You looked great for fifteen.”

Lucas made a sound of indignation, but he was smiling fondly as he picked Max’s hand up and kissed it.

Dustin groaned. “I’ve been third-wheeling them the whole way here. Please tell me I don’t have to share a room with them.”

“We’re not that bad,” Lucas protested.

At the same time, Max said, “You’re just jealous because you don’t see Suzie until Wednesday.”

“You don’t have to share a room,” Steve said. “Robin and I are taking her room, Lucas and Max are taking my room, and Dustin, you get the couch.”

“Why do I get stuck with the couch?” Dustin asked.

“Because you’re only here for four days,” Steve said.

“Yeah, Steve’s jealous that you don’t like him as much as Suzie,” Robin teased. “You’re breaking his heart, Dusty-Bun.”

“That is not true!” Steve protested.

“So does this mean you two are finally…” Dustin directed at Steve and Robin, eyebrows waggling.

Steve groaned. “No, Dustin. Never going to happen. Come on, let’s get going.”

He grabbed both of the duffels Lucas had been carrying so Lucas could use both hands to push Max.

“Why would we be paying rent for a two-bedroom in San Francisco if we were together,” Robin asked Dustin. “Have you seen rent prices around here? Cause I could probably sell a kidney for less than an apartment.”

Dustin got a thoughtful look on his face. Steve wasn’t optimistic that Dustin would give up if he hadn’t in the past four years, but he watched as Robin walked with him, trying (hopelessly) to talk him out of it.

“What about Robin?” Max asked.

Steve didn’t answer at first, assuming she was talking to Lucas, until she poked him in the thigh.

“What?”

“Does Robin look hot?”

Steve groaned. “Not you too, Mayfield.”

“Come on, Steve, you have to tell me.”

“Her hair is a bit longer and the tips are blue,” Steve said.

Max huffed. “Thank you for that being completely unhelpful. Do you even like girls? That was the lamest description I’ve ever heard.”

Steve sputtered.

“Yeah, she looks hot,” Lucas said.

Steve shot him a look, trying to warn him that when your girlfriend asked if another woman was hot, it was always a trick question. You should never, ever answer with a yes.

If Max and Lucas broke up again right before staying with him for a week, Steve was going to lose his mind.

“Thank you, Lucas!” Max said, sounding triumphant. “That’s how it’s done.”

Steve blinked, first at Max, then at Lucas.

He would never have gotten away with saying that to Nancy or Debbie or any of the girls he’d dated. Hell, the only woman he would say that to was Robin, and that was because she had equal interest in pretty women.

Lucas gave Steve a little smile that Steve couldn’t interpret.

Steve gave up.

“Whatever is going on between you two, just know that I promised Mrs. Sinclair multiple times that you wouldn’t be in the same room. So if anyone asks, Dustin bunked with Lucas and Max stayed with Robin while I took the couch.”

“How noble of you,” Dustin shouted back, the little eavesdropper. “To take the uncomfortable couch instead of forcing it on your unsuspecting guests!”

Steve flipped him off.

“We’re not stupid,” Max said. “We know how to lie our asses off.”

“And I don’t want to hear any noises!” Steve added. “I don’t care what you do in there, but for the love of god, don’t make me hear it!”

Lucas made a horrified face. “Man, please stop talking.”

Steve was also blushing, but he forged on. “Last thing, I promise. I’m hating this just as much as you are.”

“I doubt that,” Max muttered.

Steve’s face was burning. “There are condoms in the bedside table,” he told the floor.

There was no response. Steve risked a peek at the kids and saw that they both looked vaguely traumatized and bright red.

Robin and Dustin, who had stopped by the car, watched as the three of them approached.

Robin took one look at Steve’s face and cackled. “Did he give you the safe sex talk?”

Dustin groaned.

Robin looked gleeful. She patted Dustin’s arm as she leaned in, pretending to whisper while talking loud as fuck. “Don’t be jealous, Dusty-Bun,” she teased. “Steve also bought you condoms to take to Utah.”

She and Max burst out laughing while Dustin turned to Steve with a look of horrified betrayal.

Steve pinched his nose. “Everybody get in the car or I’m leaving without you.”

***

Of course it didn’t matter how much Steve had fretted about preparing everything just right, because disaster struck just as they were getting ready to leave for their dinner reservations that night.

Max accidentally hit the end table. Steve watched in what felt like slow-motion as Robin’s half-full wine glass from the night before teetered off the side and into his lap, soaking his jeans.

He cursed at the huge red wine stain in his lap.

“Whoops,” Max said.

“Robin!” Steve hissed.

“Sorry!” Robin said. “I forgot I left the wine glass there. But like, in my defense, if the end table had been in its usual place or the couch had been in its usual place or you hadn’t rearranged literally all of our furniture, this wouldn’t have happened.”

“So it’s my fault?” Steve asked, pouting at her.

She was unmoved by his puppy-dog eyes. “Go change, Dingus. I’ll clean the couch.”

Steve stood, ignoring the wine running down his legs, and went to Robin’s room. It was a disaster because Robin emptied half her closet onto the floor every time she tried to decide what to wear. Two years of living with her had been enough for Steve to unlearn two decades of keeping his parents’ house neat and clean, and when he’d grabbed clothes from his room to give it to Lucas and Max, he’d ended up dumping most of it in a pile on the floor.

Steve toed off the dirty jeans and looked through the pile as best as he could. He’d grabbed way too many shirts and it looked like the only pair of jeans he’d taken were his going out jeans. They were tighter than his usual pair and made his ass look amazing.

He yanked them on quickly and met the others in the living room in time for them to head out for the reservation. They made it to the restaurant with just enough time to spare, Steve dropping them all at the door to claim the table and then driving a few more minutes to find parking.

When he finally entered the restaurant, the kids enthusiastically waved him down and he couldn’t help his smile as he slid into the booth beside Robin.

It was great to catch up with the kids in person instead of over the phone or Dustin’s Cerebro. Like this, Steve could watch Dustin’s eyes get all fond when he talked about going to school with Suzie in the fall if they both got accepted into MIT. He could hear Max’s laugh without static interrupting it. He could watch Lucas act out the plays in his most recent basketball game and see the way he still looked to Steve throughout the story, wanting approval.

Steve was so fucking proud of all of them.

Robin squeezed his hand under the table. “You look happy,” she whispered.

Steve squeezed back.

After Steve paid the bill — something that was much harder these days, but which he wasn’t going to tell the kids — they all meandered back to the car. Lucas and Max went ahead, murmuring quietly to each other. It was a nice night, clear and relatively warm for March.

“If you think so, then I’m stealing your coat,” Robin told Steve when he said that aloud. She didn’t wait for him to hand it over, but started stripping it off him. “I’m freezing.”

She wrapped his coat around herself and he laughed and put an arm around her, pulling her into his side and rubbing up and down her arm.

“Better?”

She hummed. “Toasty.”

There was no comment from Dustin, which was suspicious enough to make Steve check he was still there.

He was, walking on Steve’s left, but his attention was focused on Steve’s ass.

Steve frowned. “Dustin?”

Dustin looked up at him. “I don’t get it. Is there some fashion trend that Eddie was years ahead of? Or are you doing it to remember him? Neither of you were even super close with him!”

Steve took a minute to try to understand that, but it made no sense. He glanced at Robin, wondering if she was being slow, but she looked just as confused.

“What?”

“Your handkerchief,” Dustin said. “Are you wearing it for Eddie?”

Steve’s stomach flipped as he understood what was going on. He’d grabbed his going-out jeans in a hurry and he’d forgotten to take the handkerchief out of the back pocket from the last time he’d gone to a club.

Steve glanced over his shoulder to check what color he was wearing. It was dark blue, tucked into his right pocket.

Steve bit back a series of curses. He glanced at Robin again, who was watching him with wide eyes.

“Um,” Steve said. “I’m wearing it… like Eddie? In the same way, I think.”

“So to honor him?” Dustin asked. He traced his long curls. “Maybe I should do that.”

“No!” Steve said hurriedly. “Absolutely not!”

Dustin looked hurt. “I was way closer to him than you were, Steve. And I was the one there when-“

He cut off, glancing away.

Steve felt awful.

He and Dustin had had a bit of a rough time after Eddie’s death. Dustin had blamed both himself and Steve for letting Eddie die, and he’d felt guilty being friends with Steve when they’d lost Eddie. Like he was replacing one friend with another.

He knew how sensitive Dustin was about Eddie.

Steve was so open in San Francisco. He had followed Robin here because she wanted to be able to live without the same fear she’d had in Hawkins. He would have followed her anywhere. If she’d chosen the most homophobic town in the country he would have gone, despite the fact that traveling Europe with her after defeating Vecna had led Steve to realize he was interested in men. He was here because of her, not because of him.

But he loved living in a place where he could openly be himself. Where he could pass other men flagging on the streets and not just in discreet bars, hidden in the back corner of alleys. He loved when he and Robin went out and both brought people home, some girl coming out of Robin’s room in the morning to find Steve and his one-night-stand already making breakfast in the kitchen.

Being bisexual was a bigger part of him than he ever could have imagined back when he lived in Hawkins.

But he’d never been brave enough to tell the kids. They lived so far away and he saw them so infrequently and he hadn’t wanted to risk a negative reaction. If it went badly, they didn’t live in the same town. He couldn’t keep running into them, forcing them to slowly accept what he was. If the kids took it badly, they could just decide to never come back.

Steve couldn’t bear it if the kids walked away from him.

Robin nudged Steve gently, knocking him out of his thoughts.

Dustin looked really confused and upset. Fuck.

Steve would get hurt a thousand times before he ever hurt one of his kids.

“I’ll explain when we get home, okay?” Steve asked.

Dustin made a face. “Why not now?”

“It’s not something I want to just explain on the street,” Steve said. You never knew who might be listening, even in San Francisco. Besides, Dustin was guaranteed to ask a million questions even if he took it well, and Steve did not want to have that conversation on a random sidewalk.

“Fine,” Dustin huffed. He sped up a little to walk with Max and Lucas.

“You okay?” Robin asked.

“Yeah,” Steve said, his voice tight with fear.

“Dustin will be fine,” Robin said. “He loves you. He loved Eddie. I’ve never heard the kid say a single homophobic thing in his life.”

“Yeah,” Steve repeated.

“Steve,” Robin said seriously. She stopped walking and turned to face him. “You don’t have to do this if you’re not ready. You can still make something up.”

“No,” Steve said finally. “I can’t. You’re right, I don’t think he’ll take this badly. Which means the only reason not to tell him is because I’m scared. I’m being stupid.”

“You don’t owe it to him,” Robin said.

Steve smiled tightly. “I’ve faced Demogorgons. Coming out has to be easier than that, right?”

Robin shrugged. “You’re asking the wrong lesbian, Steve. I’ve only ever come out to other gay people. I mean, even when I thought I was telling Steve “the Hair” Harrington — which was already easier, cause I was like, high on Russian truth serum — and that he was all popular and straight and definitely not gonna take it well, I didn’t know that I was secretly coming out to a bisexual guy who was going to become my platonic soulmate. So. No words of wisdom from me.”

Weirdly, Steve felt better after hearing that.

“Thanks, Robin,” he said.

“I love you,” she said seriously. “I’m here.”

“I love you too,” he said.

***

When they got back to the apartment, Dustin stomped over to the couch and took a seat, arms crossed.

Lucas looked at Steve warily. “You also did the bandana thing?”

Also? Was Lucas also still thinking about Eddie?

Steve sighed. “Okay, sit down. I’ll explain.”

Lucas took a seat beside Dustin and Max rolled her wheelchair so she was vaguely next to the couch, bumping the table again.

Steve moved to stand in front of the couch, wringing his hands together. Robin leaned against the wall behind him, silently offering support.

Steve cleared his throat. “I’m, um,”

Bisexual.

The word wouldn’t come.

“Flagging,” he said instead. “That’s what it’s called when a guy wears a handkerchief in his back pocket.”

Lucas frowned. “Is that a fashion thing?”

“Not exactly,” Steve said. “It’s, um, a code? To let people know what you’re looking for.”

He was met with three blank stares.

“In the bedroom,” he croaked out.

Dustin’s face twisted. “It’s a sex thing?”

“Dude!” Lucas said.

“Why were you wearing it to dinner with us?” Dustin demanded.

“I forgot it was there!”

“I guess the new hair and the pastiness are working for you, if you’re getting enough girls that you’re forgetting your freaky sex flag is in your jeans” Max said. She looked the least affected of the three, but she was also blushing a little.

Yeah, Steve didn’t want to be talking about his sex life either.

“Wait, that doesn’t make sense,” Dustin said. “It can’t be a new thing because Eddie was wearing one three years ago. And it can’t be a big city thing, because Eddie and Will were wearing them around Hawkins. So who wears it?”

Steve choked on his spit. “Will?”

“Yeah?” Dustin said. “I told you. I said neither of you were close with Eddie, so it didn’t make sense that you were wearing a hanky like he did.”

Steve gaped at Dustin. He didn’t know what to say. Dustin had just outed Will to Steve and he had no idea he’d done it. And now if Steve told Dustin who used hanky code, he would be outing Will to right back to Dustin.

“Fuck,” Steve said, scrubbing a hand down his face.

“Does it mean something bad?” Lucas asked anxiously.

“No!” Steve blurted. “No!”

“So what does it mean?” Dustin asked.

Steve hesitated.

“Come on, Steve!” Dustin whined.

“Okay,” Steve said. “Look, I don’t know about Will, okay? Maybe he’s doing something else. Maybe it really is for fashion or something to him. I’m just talking about me.”

Max’s mouth dropped open a little and a look of comprehension crossed her face.

Steve didn’t stop to wonder what she’d put together. If he didn’t keep going, he would lose his nerve.

“It’s a gay code,” Steve said, voice shaking a little. “To let men know what I’m looking for.”

Absolute silence.

Dustin was frozen, mouth open and eyebrows up. He was staring at Steve is complete disbelief.

Lucas’s eyes were wide, and darting between Steve and Max.

Max’s face was frozen, the way it usually was when she needed to figure out what expression she wanted to show. She was cagey, only showing what she wanted and rarely what she was actually feeling.

Steve hoped she wasn’t hiding a negative reaction.

“YOU’RE GAY?” Dustin screamed.

Steve winced and shushed him. He wasn’t sure what the neighbors knew and did not want to find out.

“Bisexual,” he said. He felt Robin come up beside him to slide a hand into his and he dropped a little of his weight against her. “It means I like both. Men and women.”

Dustin looked like he was processing a new scientific discovery. “That’s a thing?”

Steve nodded.

“How did you know you were bisexual?” Dustin fired right away, brain clearly whirring with questions.

“I slept with a guy and liked it. So I slept with a couple more and liked that too, and then I got confused because I didn’t know you could like both and I was really sure I liked women. So I talked to a friend and they explained to me what bisexuality was.”

“Huh,” Dustin said.

Steve couldn’t take the suspense. Dustin had skipped straight to the interrogation and entirely blown past any kind of reaction, and the other two kids were just watching them go back and forth like it was a tennis match.

“Is that… okay? With everyone?” Steve asked. He heard Robin’s shoes scuff the ground behind him, like she was also anxiously waiting for an answer.

“Of course it’s fine, man,” Lucas said. He still looked a little surprised, but definitely not confused or revolted. He was actually taking this suspiciously well.

Over the years, Steve had given a lot of thought to how each of the kids would react. He’d figured Dustin would be nosy but accepting, Max would try to act cool even if she was a little freaked out, and Erica would say something insulting but would defend him harder than anyone. Mike would almost inevitably be a little asshole about it — Steve had eaten dinner at the Wheelers’ a lot when he’d been dating Nancy and he knew what sort of ideas Mike had been raised on. He’d been preparing for years to not take it personally when Mike reacted badly. Will was a bit of a wild card — Steve figured he was probably gay, but that his reaction would depend on where he was on his own journey of self-acceptance and whether he would be happy to have a gay friend or if he would lash out in an attempt to seem straight.

Lucas, though? Steve had never gotten a good reading one way or the other. He’d never heard Lucas say anything about gay people, positive or negative. And Lucas knew what it was like to be hated on by bigots like Billy because of the color of his skin, but that didn’t necessarily mean he was okay with gay people. In retrospect, Steve was pretty sure Billy had been some type of queer (he’d spent a lot of time harassing Steve while they were either sweating on a court or naked in the showers) and that certainly hadn’t stopped him from being racist, so it could definitely go the other way.

But Lucas was acting as if Steve had announced something unexpected but vaguely boring. Like he’d said he’d started rooting for the Golden State Warriors or traded in his car for a new one, instead of announcing he was sexually and romantically interested in men.

Dustin, on the other hand, looked insulted. “You think I care if you’re gay? I’m a little mad you didn’t tell me, but I don’t care who you date.”

“Yes, you do,” Steve said. “You try to set me up on dates all the time.”

“Yeah, but that’s just cause you’re always single and you can never get dates on your own. It’s kind of sad. I care about you not being lonely, not if you like dicks or not.”

Steve frowned. “Was that an insult or a compliment?”

Dustin scoffed. “You’re an idiot. But I, uh, love you and stuff. Even if you didn’t tell me you were gay for literal years.”

Steve felt a little warm inside and he couldn’t help but smile. “Thanks, buddy.”

He looked at Max for a reaction, but she looked deep in thought. Okay. Maybe she needed time to process. He’d circle back to her.

“Was Eddie gay?” Dustin asked.

“Um, I mean, I can’t know for sure. He didn’t come out to me or anything. But he was definitely flagging and I’m pretty sure he was flirting with me when we were in the Upside Down.”

Dustin squinted at Steve. “So you and Eddie…?”

“No,” Steve said. “I only realized I liked guys after… everything.”

Dustin nodded like that made sense. “Is that why you moved to San Francisco?”

Steve debated how to answer that.

“No,” Robin said. “Steve moved here because of me. I moved here because it’s easier to be gay in San Francisco.”

Steve turned to gape at her. Robin was shaking slightly and cutting off the circulation in Steve’s hand, but her chin was tilted up proudly and her eyes were boring into Dustin.

Dustin was gaping. Max’s face was turning red.

“Sorry to steal your thunder,” Robin whispered.

Steve squeeze her hand. “I’m proud of you.”

She beamed. “You too, Dingus.”

“Oh my God,” Dustin said slowly. “Is this why you two won’t date?”

Robin laughed. “Yeah. I’m way too much of a lesbian to date Steve.”

Steve scrunched up his nose. “Like I’d date you, Buckley.”

“You asked me out,” Robin sing-songed. “You would totally date me.”

“You asked her out?” Dustin demanded.

“Ugh, yeah. Back when we still worked at Scoops Ahoy. She told me I would have a better shot if I was Tammy Thompson.”

“I knew Robin was your type!” Dustin was bouncing on the couch in excitement.

“Yeah, yeah,” Steve said. “You also didn’t notice that Robin was a lesbian for four years, so don’t be too proud of yourself.”

“Oh come on, Steve, how was I supposed to guess that everyone I know is gay?”

“Everyone?” Steve asked.

Dustin listed them off on his fingers. “You, Robin, Will.”

“You can’t be sure about Will,” Steve said halfheartedly.

Dustin gave him a look. “I assumed he was gay when we were like ten, Steve.”

Yeah. That made sense. Steve barely knew Will Byers before all the Upside Down shit had happened, but even he’d heard rumors in the days following Will’s disappearing about Will being gay. It made sense that Will’s oldest friends would have heard those rumors — and probably more — and that they would wonder if some of them were true.

“One out of three isn’t terrible gaydar,” Robin said.

“One out of four,” Max said.

They all turned to look at her. She was staring vaguely in the direction of Steve and Robin, holding Lucas’s hand in a death-grip.

“What?” Robin breathed, sounding excited.

“I like girls too,” Max said. “And Lucas.”

God, she was so fucking brave. Max had no choice but to stand out. Everywhere she went, people stared at the blind girl in the wheelchair. They pitied her. They pitied Max, which was insane. Max was smart and brave and stubborn and sarcastic as hell. She wasn’t someone to be pitied, she was someone to be admired.

Case in point: she didn’t have to paint another target on her back. She could have kept quiet and kept dating Lucas, who she was probably going to marry, and no one would ever assume she was anything other than straight.

Steve was twenty-two and had known he was bisexual for two years and had only said something because he hadn’t seen another way to keep from hurting Dustin.

Max was seventeen and already braver than Steve would ever be, holding Lucas’s hand defiantly and volunteering the information that she liked girls.

“See!” Dustin said, gesturing at Max. “Everyone I know is gay!”

That was a very Dustin reaction, even if it wasn’t necessarily the right one.

“Thanks for telling us, Max,” Steve said.

“If you ever wanna talk about girls, you can call me,” Robin said. “I talk to Steve sometimes, but he has terrible taste and he has the audacity to say that I have terrible taste and I would love to talk to another girl about this.”

Max grinned. “I get to talk to Lucas. And I know he has perfect taste because he chose me.”

Dustin made a gagging sound.

Lucas pressed a kiss to Max’s shoulder, looking embarrassed but pleased.

Steve was so proud of him. Max had clearly told him before tonight, and he was still here holding her hand, so he must have done everything right. He obviously hadn’t acted offended or taken it as a challenge to his masculinity that his girlfriend liked girls.

Steve thought of their little exchange in the airport and the way Max had asked if Robin looked hot.

His heart warmed, watching them.

He never would have believed that a relationship between two thirteen year olds would last this long. He was going to walk Max down the aisle someday, and he was willing to bet his measly life savings that Lucas would be the one waiting for her at the end.

“Am I gay?” Dustin wondered out loud.

Steve laughed. “Dude! I think you would know if you were gay.”

“You’d think, wouldn’t you?” Robin said. “But sometimes your twenty-year-old best friend tells you he thought everyone thought about pretty boys and you realize that some people are too much of a dingus to realize they’re gay.”

The kids all laughed.

“So what does your bandana mean?” Max asked, waggling her eyebrows.

Dustin made a face. “I don’t wanna know what Steve does in bed!”

Max shrugged. “I do.”

“Okay, someone’s a little too interested, Mayfield,” Steve said.

“I’m bisexual too!” Max protested. “I need to know this stuff.”

“You’re blind,” Dustin muttered. “You can’t even see the bandana.”

Max hit him threw a pillow at his head with unnerving accuracy.

“Girls don’t really use the same code,” Robin said. “You have to actually have the guts to go up to a girl and talk to her instead of knowing what she’s into based on what she’s wearing.”

“But how does it work?” Lucas asked. “Are you just saying you’re looking for a hookup?”

Steve blushed.

“Educate the queer youth, Steve!” Robin said, the traitor.

“Only one of them is even gay!”

“You can’t tell Max and not me!” Dustin immediately protested.

“And Max tells me everything, so I might as well hear it too.”

Steve groaned. He kind of wished a gate to the Upside Down would open under his feet so he could get out of having this conversation.

“Okay. The colors mean you’re looking for different things. And it also matters if the bandana is in the right or left pocket, because that tells people if you wanna do the thing or have the thing done to you.”

There. That was a kid-friendly description, right?

“So if Eddie’s bandana was black, what does that mean?” Dustin asked.

Steve gulped. Robin cackled.

“Um, black is sadomasochism,” Steve said. He had to force every word out of his mouth. “So he liked, um, rough sex.”

He cringed as the kids all turned bright red.

It wasn’t a new feeling, wishing Eddie hadn’t died. But this was the first time Steve wished he was alive specifically so Eddie could be having this conversation instead of Steve. Eddie would have been shameless, loudly proclaiming his preferences to everyone around, and then the kids would learn to stop asking invasive questions when they learned much more than they wanted to.

“What’s yours?” Dustin asked.

“None of your business,” Steve said quickly.

“Come on, Steve,” Dustin said. “Now that I know you can’t date Robin, I need to find someone else to set you up with. And how am I supposed to know you’re compatible if I don’t know what your bandana means?”

Robin was shaking against Steve. He looked at her briefly in concern, only to see that she was losing the battle against a fit of giggles.

“Save me,” he hissed to her.

“Steve, this is the best entertainment I’ve had all year. I’ve never you seen you this red, even that time in Scoops-“

“It’s dark blue,” Steve said, to keep Robin from telling that particular story. “So just regular sex.”

Dustin frowned. “You’re wearing a bandana that literally just says you’re looking for sex?”

“What’s regular sex between two dudes?” Lucas asked, frowning.

Steve groaned. “Did your parents never give you the sex talk?”

“Yeah, but it didn’t cover that.”

Steve scrubbed his hands down his face. He remembered when he’d first started sleeping with men, how much information he hadn’t known. He’d been traveling through Europe with Robin, hitting different gay clubs in each city, and he’d initially picked up a guy because he was bored and thought he might as well try it. (In retrospect, the man had been really pretty and Steve had been curious for a while, but boredom had been the excuse he had given himself to go through with it).

He hadn’t known what two men could do with each other. He hadn’t known how to be safe. He was really goddamn lucky that he hadn’t taken home the wrong guy, or gotten an STD, or gotten AIDS.

No one had ever given Steve the gay sex talk either, and if they’d offered it to him back when they’d given him the straight sex talk, Steve wouldn’t have wanted to listen.

And here his kids were, asking him to explain. Sure, Dustin and Lucas were probably straight, but everyone had thought the same thing about Steve.

It couldn’t hurt for them to have more information than they needed, but it could definitely hurt for them to have less.

“Fuck it,” Steve said, “Fine. Always the goddamn babysitter.”

Robin made a squeaking sound. “Are you seriously giving them the sex talk?”

Steve nodded wearily.

“I’ll go be other there,” Robin said, gesturing at her room.

Steve caught her hand to keep her from leaving. “Absolutely not. You’re here to provide a girl’s perspective.”

“Steve, I did not sign up for this and I’m in no way qualified to give this talk.”

Steve stared at her. “And you think I am?”

“Goddamnit,” Robin huffed, conceding the point. “Fine, okay, sex talk, yay! This isn’t awkward at all.”

What followed was the most embarrassing hour of Steve’s life. He tried to start with the basics (consent, condoms) and only give the kids the absolutely essential facts, but they all asked really pointed and specific questions. Even Lucas, who Steve couldn’t imagine asking these questions in a group setting, was emboldened by Dustin and Max’s shameless questions to ask about a horrifically detailed “hypothetical” that had Max blushing and burying her face in her hands.

Dustin made Steve explain the entirety of the hanky code (“Wait, why would you wanna be the one getting fucked? How does that feel good?”), asked a million questions about Steve’s type (“Hot brunettes isn’t a type, Steve!”), and then asked for advice about how to make sure a girl was actually ready to have sex and wasn’t just doing it to rebel against her super-religious family (… uh, Robin? Any thoughts?”).

At the end of the night Steve was pretty sure that he was going to have a bright red face forever and that his hair was in disarray from how many times he’d run his hands through it, but he also felt like his kids were thoroughly prepared for any situation they might encounter.

He sent the kids use the bathroom first and started laying sheets on the couch for Dustin. He layered a few blankets on because San Francisco could get cold at night, then was handed a pillow.

“Thanks,” he said, looking up to see it was Dustin helping out.

Dustin barreled into his chest, throwing his arms around Steve in a tight hug.

Steve dropped the pillow and hugged him back.

“I miss you,” Dustin said.

“I miss you too.”

“Will you still come visit me when I’m at MIT? Even though it’s farther than Hawkins and the rest of the Party won’t be there?”

“Dustin, you haven’t even gotten in yet.”

“But will you?” Dustin asked, planting his chin on Steve’s chest to look up into Steve’s eyes. And even though Steve knew he was 17, almost a full adult, he looked just like the kid Steve had first met, wide-eyed and looking to Steve for reassurance.

“Of course,” Steve said. “I’ll be over there so much you’ll get sick of me.”

“Even though you have a job and Robin and you don’t have to drive us around everywhere anymore?”

Steve huffed. “Dude, I haven’t driven you all everywhere in years. And Robin can survive without me for a few days. You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

“Promise?”

“Promise,” Steve said.

Dustin pulled out of the hug, giving Steve a toothy smile. Then he scowled and punched Steve’s arm. “Next time, don’t wait years to tell me something important, asshole!”

Steve grinned.

Dustin didn’t care. He wasn’t pushing Steve away for being queer. He was actually trying to make sure that Steve would stay in his life, that growing up didn’t mean Steve would leave.

Steve pulled the brim of Dustin’s cap down, earning him a disgruntled yelp.

“Alright,” Steve promised. “The next time I have a life-changing realization, you’ll be the first to know.”

Dustin smiled evilly. “Even before Robin?”

Steve froze. “I’m not picking favorites Henderson, so don’t even try it.”

Max and Lucas emerged from the bathroom and Steve gently pushed Dustin towards it, finally joining Robin in her room.

Robin was lying on the bed in her pjs, still faintly blushing from the sex talk. “I am never having kids. That was the worst, oh my god. I suddenly understand why my parents just threw a bunch of books at me and told me to figure it out.”

“I got the sex talk from health class,” Steve admitted, digging through the pile on the floor for pjs. “It was not helpful at all.”

Robin snorted. “I’m sure you learned from hands-on experience, Romeo.”

“No, but that’s my point,” Steve said. “I slept with all these girls and all of them only said nice things. I was so sure I was doing a good job, and then I date Nancy for longer than a few weeks and she’s Nancy, so she does research.”

He hissed the word and Robin sniggered. “Oh, she would.”

“She did! And then she gave me notes. Literal, physical notes, on how to do better!”

Robin laughed so hard she went quiet, rolling from side to side on the bed and clutching at her ribs.

“Robin, Robin, don’t laugh at me,” Steve pouted. “It was humiliating.”

Robin could not stop laughing. “Were the notes on flashcards?”

Steve aggressively yanked pajamas from the pile and refused to answer. The notes had been on flashcards. And they’d been color-coded into general tips and things Nancy specifically wanted to try.

Steve changed into pajamas as Robin gradually got her giggles under control.

“Hey, babe,” Robin said.

Steve looked up. “Yeah?”

She looked serious, sitting up and meeting Steve’s gaze. “I’m proud of you. You were really brave tonight. And you gave me the courage to be brave too, and I never could have imagined a few years ago that I’d be living in San Francisco with my queer best friend and platonic soulmate having an extremely embarrassing sex talk with a bunch of teenagers, but it’s kind of perfect. I kind of love it.”

Steve smiled. He never would have imagined himself here either, but he wouldn’t trade it for anything. His friendship with Robin was the most important thing in his life. And his kids, his wonderful, amazing, brilliant kids, who accepted him and admired him and needed him and loved him — they were here. They’d traveled 2,000 miles just to see him.

“I kind of love it too,” Steve said.

Robin beamed. “Definitely worth a little Russian torture.”

What a weird, fucked-up metric. And Robin was still absolutely right.

#stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #platonic stobin #the party #Steve harrington #robin buckley #dustin henderson #max mayfield #Lucas sinclair #max x lucas #mia writes fanfic #ao3 #because ao3 is down

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