#let’s pretend they’re twins and that’s why | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

drewsbuzzcut · 4 months

Text

Pictures With Santa

mat barzal x model!fem!reader

a visceral in doses fic

warnings: minor angst and mentions pregnancy (during their breakup before they had Sloane) also this is lightly edited

Christmas 2025

“Do you think he’s going to cry?” Mat questions, nervously rocking an almost 5 month old Nolan. You’re both in a crowded mall, waiting in line to take pictures with Santa. Nolan may be a baby, but you and Mat still want to experience all the firsts.

“He’s asleep, Barzy,” you attempt to soothe him, running a hand over his hoodie clad back.

“Yeah, but you know he’ll wake up the second he realizes we aren’t holding him,” Mat stresses and he truly sounds worried.

“My baby, it’s going to be just fine. If it makes you feel better, you can hold him and we’ll just have to be in the picture,” you cup his cheeks, pressing your body against his to calm him down.

For a moment he seems to settle, his head leaning down to rest against your own, but as you’re about to give him a kiss he gets worked up again.

“What if the camera shutter scares him and he starts crying?”

“Then his first Santa photo will be a funny one,” you tease, earning a scowl from your boyfriend.

“If it’s really bugging you so much, we can leave,” you suggest, knowing that he won’t agree which is why you said it in the first place.

“No way. He’s my little strong man. We’ll get through this,” he states, leaning down to nose at Nolan’s soft cheek.

“We?” You ask, combing your fingers through his hair.

“Yes.” You kiss his little pout. You swear he and Nolan are twins, they pout the same way.

“We’re up, baby,” you say, pushing him ahead.

“Hi, merry Christmas,” Santa greeted you and your boys.

“Hi! Merry Christmas. Is it okay if we just sit next to you, so my boyfriend can hold our son? He’s still napping,” you ask and explain your reasoning.

“It’s no problem.”

You and Mat sit at each side of Santa, sitting on the arms of his large chair. Nolan nestled tightly in Mat’s arms as he tries to adjust him so the camera can get a good view of him. You both smile and wait until the first shutter of the camera. However, after the camera clicks, Nolan immediately wakes up. He’s not crying or cranky, so Mat decides to have him pose for a picture with just himself and Santa.

It’s the cutest picture you’ve ever seen. Nolan is staring up at Santa with wide eyes and his little gummy smile. They both matched as Nolan was dressed in a Santa suit onesie. He wasn’t scared and you were so glad. You bought so many copies, for around the house and to give to your family members.

Christmas 2028

“Sorry I’m late,” Mat says out of breath as he finally meets you in line.

You’re waiting to have the boys take pictures with Santa and Mat was running late with Nolan. You’re officially adding this to the list of things you wish you could avoid. By no means did you want to pretend to be some happy family while you and Mat are split up. You try to focus on the Christmas music playing from the speakers, and the bustling crowd as they’re all full of joy.

“It’s fine,” you mutter, rocking Angel in your arms. He’s a bit frazzled by all the noise in the crowded mall.

“You look pretty,” he compliments you and for once his words aren’t hesitant.

“Mathew, please,” you warn, turning away from him. You’re not necessarily mad at him anymore, but you just want to keep the distance between the two of you. Things are already so messy, you don’t want to complicate things further. Not to mention, if he gets any closer to you, you know he’ll figure out that you’re pregnant and you cannot have that happening right now.

“What? I can’t compliment my wife. It’s not like I’m lying, you look beautiful. You always do, but you’re glowing and I just wanted to tell you,” he explains, wrapping an arm around your stomach to pull your back to his chest.

You quickly pull away, eyes glaring at him.

“Let me remind you that we’re not actually together right now. Please don’t compliment me or touch me. I’m only here because of the boys,” you spit out, turning your head so he doesn’t see the tears lining your eyes.

He stays quiet in either embarrassment or sadness, you don’t bother looking into it.

When it’s finally your turn for pictures, you breathe a sigh of relief.

“So how are we going to pose?” Mat asks, this time hesitantly.

“We’re not posing. Just the boys are going to be in the pictures this year,” you say, trying not to look at Mat’s crestfallen face. It’s tradition for your family to take pictures with Santa all together.

“Why? We’ve never not taken pictures without us in them,” he says in a low tone, but you can tell he’s pissed.

“I’m not going into detail right now. Just get Nolan ready while I get Angel ready,” you say, making sure Angel’s outfit is straightened out.

“What the hell is wrong with you? Seriously, I’m trying really hard here and you’re just ruining everything,” Mat whispers in your ear, trying not to alarm anyone who is nearby.

You turn to him, this time the tears are visible in your eyes. You just stare at him in surprise. You weren’t expecting that from him. You quickly inhale a deep breath, handing Angel over to Santa as Mat does the same with Nolan.

“Okay, boys, smile!” The cameraman says. Nolan is smiling wide, but Angel bursts into tears just as the camera clicks.

“I’ll hold him while you take the picture,” Mat interjects as you’re about to step in to grab your crying baby.

You watch as Mat sits next to Santa, Angel- who’s calm now is sitting on his daddy’s lap with a little gummy smile as he’s getting tickled. Your boys look so handsome, dressed in their Christmas best with their little bow ties. You can’t help but let your eyes roam over Mat. He’s dressed in an all black button up, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and his wedding band on display from where his hand rests on Angel’s stomach. His smile is as beautiful as it always is, and if you didn’t know him so well, you wouldn’t have realized that his eyes don’t match the feigned happiness.

The camera clicks again and you discreetly wipe away a tear. Mat is right, you’re ruining everything.

Mat seems to catch your silent breakdown and calls for you to join them. He knows you’re going through it and that his words didn’t particularly help the situation.

You quickly get to them, pick up Nolan and set him on your lap as you all pose together for the final picture. You try not to let the fact that your wedding ring is nowhere to be seen ruin your pictures.

After paying for all your copies, Mat carries both boys back to your car. It’s a silent walk but you expected as much.

You keep to yourself as Mat gets the boys settled in their car seats, talking with Nolan and listening to Angel’s little babbles. He kisses them many times before finally closing the car door and turning to you.

You bid a quick goodbye with an awkward wave, but he stops you from getting into the car. He slightly shoves the door back closed, giving you no choice but to face him.

“What am I doing wrong?” His voice is strained and you’re not sure how long you can stare at him without throwing yourself in his arms. You’re craving his affection.

“What are you talking about?” You stall.

“You know what I’m talking about. If this is still about the fight we had, we can work through it. I truly didn’t mean to offend you and I wish you’d let me help us fix things. I can’t go on like this. You flipped out when I touched you back there and you’ve never done that before and it killed me. Please just let me touch you. Please let me fix us,” he pleads, pulling you into his arms.

For a split second, you start to cave, but then you remember that you’re pregnant. He still doesn’t know and you really don’t want him to figure it out on his own. You know that if he’s close to you for longer than he has been the past couple of months, he’d realize the changes in your body. He just knows you that well. You need to get away from him. There’s a time and place for you to have that talk, and right here, right now isn’t it.

“I’m sorry, Mathew. I need to get home. Please get home safe,” you pull away, pushing a hand into his chest and quickly getting into your car and pulling out of the parking lot.

Mat takes a few moments in the driver’s seat of his car, trying to collect his thoughts. He’s pissed with you for pushing him away and refusing to fix things, and he’s pissed with himself for saying things without thinking about what he’s saying or how he’s saying it. He just wants to hold you. He misses your warmth and the feel of your skin on his. Don’t even get him started with how beautiful you looked. You’re always beautiful to him, of course, but today your skin was glowing and your boobs were peeking out from your top and he just misses you so bad. You actually looked like you usually do when you’re pregnant, and it makes Mat reminisce on simpler times.

Christmas 2029

“Look at my pretty princess,” your husband coos, lifting Sloane in his arms. She scrunches her legs up and you hear Mat gush over her cuteness.

“The pretty princess needs to eat,” you interrupt their moment, bringing Sloane into your arms, pulling down the shoulder of your top and letting her attach to your nipple.

“Look at my sexy wife. I love you,” Mat whispers in your ear, kissing the side of your neck.

“I love you, so much,” you lean up, puckering your lips for a kiss. He quickly obliges.

“Kith!” Angel comes toddling in, arms up so someone can pick him up.

“Yes, kisses for you, too, bub,” Mat gives him a kiss then leans him towards you so you can give him a kiss.

“Ready to see Santa?”

“Anta? No!” AJ giggles, hiding his face in Mat’s neck.

“Oh boy,” you sigh, hoping he doesn’t throw a tantrum.

“I’m going to get them buckled in. You two meet me at the car,” he gives you one last kiss and dashes out the room.

“I don’t remember this being so difficult,” Mat says in line for pictures. You got there thirty minutes ago, but it was packed to the brim. Adding a third kid to the mix makes things that much more complicated. Yes, it’d be easier to hire someone to take these pictures in your home, but you want to keep up the tradition.

“Good thing Sloane is still asleep. If she gets woken up from her nap, she will go ballistic,” you respond.

“Mommy, I don’t want to see Santa,” Nolan says, pouting at you and Mat.

He is still iffy about Santa being that he had a “dream” of you kissing the man in red.

“Honey, I promise it was just a dream. You don’t have to worry,” you assure him.

“Yeah, Nolie bear. Mommy only gives me kisses,” Mat adds.

“And me and Lo and AJ,” Nolan corrects him.

“Yes, baby. Only you guys,” you say and he continues to pout. You try to ignore it, because you don’t want him to start acting bratty about it.

When your photo session rolls around, Nolan is first to get settled. He’s right next to Santa. You and Mat place Sloane and Angel on Santa’s lap. You fix each of your babies’ outfits, making sure their hair isn’t going crazy and that their spirits are bright by tickling their tummies. You make your way to Mat, fixing a strand of his hair and adjusting the collar of his button up. You give him a chaste kiss and quickly sit down and pose next to your husband and on the opposite side of where Nolan is sitting.

The first photo would’ve been perfect, but Nolan is caught glaring at the poor man.

The next one is nice, though, because Nolan finally looks at the camera. However, it’s when you and Mat walk away for the kids to take a photo without you both that things get crazy.

Sloane realizes she isn’t in your or her daddy’s arms, so she starts wailing. Her wails eventually set off Angel, so you now have a picture of two crying babies squirming on Santa’s lap while Nolan is giving him the side eye.

“You kissed my mommy!” Nolan jumps down from where he was seated, arms crossed over his chest.

You gasp in surprise, a hand over your mouth to stop your laugh. Santa looks up at you and Mat, clearly not knowing how to respond.

“No anta! No anta! Mama,” Angel calls out for you, but you and your husband are already picking them up in your arms.

“I am so sorry. They’re a bit wild today,” Mat says to the man as he tries to calm Sloane down by rocking her in his arms.

“Not my first rodeo, so it’s totally fine,” the man says.

Your family moves to the line to pay and pick up your photos, still trying to soothe your children.

“Are you okay, my love?” You look down at Nolan while he grasps your hand tightly.

“I’m sorry. I got angry for a little,” Nolan whispers, eyes downcast.

“I love you, little man,” Mat jumps in when you fail to find the right words. You didn’t feel the need to berate him, but you also just didn’t know what to say.

“I love you, daddy. I love you, mommy.”

“I love you, Nolie bear,” you lean down and press a kiss to his puckered lips.

“Lo and AJ didn’t like Santa either,” Nolan points out.

You and Mat let out a laugh, low enough to not disturb the new found peace of your two little ones.

“No they didn’t, baby,” you giggle.

“These are going to be the best Santa pictures yet,” Mat whispers in your ear, pulling your body into his chest.

“Oh yeah. Angry babies and Santa Claus are a perfect combination. We oughta make them into Christmas cards and send them to everyone,” you joke, smiling wide at the sound of your husband’s laughter. You feel an overwhelming sense of happiness basking in his warmth and his overall presence. A year ago things were rocky, and you weren’t sure how life was going to turn out. You’re just glad that everything is exactly the way it’s supposed to be. You and Mat together with your three babies, just as in love as you two were during your first pictures with Santa.

a/n: Enjoy!!!!

#mat barzal #mat barzal fanfiction #mat barzal fic #mat barzal x reader #mat barzal imagine #mat barzal fluff #mat barzal angst #mat barzal blurb #mat barzal smut #nhl imagine #nhl fic #new york islanders #visceral in doses

250 notes · View notes

desideriumwriter · 8 months

Text

Anyone Else But You | Chapter 1 | F.W

Chapter Summary - The introduction to all the reasons why reader despises the Weasley twins, especially Fred Weasley.

Pairing - Fred Weasley x Fem!Gryffindor!Reader

Category - enemies to lovers, hurt/comfort, angst, fluff, slowburn

Content Warnings - animal abuse? (fred & george feed a firework to a salamander.)

Word Count - 1.5k

Series Masterlist | F.W Masterlist | Next Chap | Navigation |

There’s no one who irritates you more than the Weasley Twins.

They’re loud, immature, unreliable, clumsy, arrogant, touchy, careless, childish, stubborn, just genuinely stupid. It’s as if everything you hated had been mixed together and formed into two tall, redheaded, teenage boys.

Ever since you started your first year with them, it’s felt as if they’re the most agitating people in the world. Now you're all in your fifth year, and they’ve only gotten worse since then.

It’s bad enough that you got put in the same house as them, you also somehow got multiple classes with them every year, and that your parents were friends with their parents. But, what added fuel to the fire was that they knew you didn’t like them, that you found them annoying and unfunny, and that only made them pester you more.

Yet it was surprising you were able to make friends with their younger brother, Ron. He didn’t care about your hatred for the twins, he agreed sometimes on how they would take their “pranks” too far, especially with him. He spilled to you about the plenty of times they used his phobias against him, when Fred turned his teddy bear into a spider when he was younger, they practically fueled his fear of spiders, or when both of the twins tried to get him to make an unbreakable vow when he was only five.

Ron also told you about how they tormented his other siblings as well.

George once admitted (proudly) that he and Fred attempted to shove Percy into a tomb while on a trip to Egypt, however, their mum caught them in the act, and they put beetles in his soup. They let off a dungbomb under their elderly aunt's chair on Christmas day. Even though you heard about their elderly aunt being unpleasant and unsympathetic, it’s risky to scare a 107-year-old with something explosive.

They would mess with their older brother Charlie, who studies and takes care of dragons now, by hiding his books about dragons or pretending that they accidentally destroyed them.

The twins seemed the most lax with Ginny, you didn’t hear about too many mean pranks being pulled on her. They would scare her by jumping up behind her with creepy masks on or steal all her food off her plate when she wasn’t looking. She was probably the favorite sibling to them.

There were so many more events that gave you more reasons to hate them.

In their first year, they set off a dungbomb in one of the corridors, the smell wouldn’t go away for days, it lingered through the air and anyone even remotely close would unwillingly get the strong, foul, disgusting smell of it in their nostrils, also if you walked through the gas, the smell would stick to you.

They fed a firework to a salamander, they wanted to ‘see what would happen’. You accidentally and unwillingly witnessed it, making the mistake of choosing to study at the lake that day.

They’ve hidden and messed up Percy’s Head Boy badge, they nearly made their poor brother cry because of it.

At the end of Second year, they set off the last of their Filibuster Fireworks on the train ride home.

They constantly stole items from other classmates, including you. There have been multiple times your textbooks and/or notes have gone missing for several days. When your stuff would magically appear on your bed in the dorms, there’d be a note attached to it saying “Thanks for letting us borrow this!” or something along the lines of that. Also, little doodles and drawings on the sides of your notes and sometimes your textbook.

Sometimes they wouldn’t even put your textbooks or your notes on your bed, they’d hide them. Putting them in your nightstand drawers, under your bed, behind the curtains, inside your closet, on top of the closet, and even inside of your pillowcase. You remember the first time they hid it there.

You had stayed up far too late studying in the common room, there was a test in Snape’s class in the morning that you definitely weren't ready for. You decided maybe you should go to bed after your head nearly hit the table you were sitting at for a third time due to you falling asleep.

You closed your notebook and gathered your supplies, heading up to the girl's dormitory. Too tired to put your things away properly, you put them on the floor next to your bed. You turned off your lamp and flopped down onto your pillow. Instead of feeling a cool, soft, and comfortable cushion touch your head, you hit your head on a large, solid, and heavy textbook.

You hissed out loud in pain, causing a few girls to groan and stir in their sleep. You sat up and held the side of your head which was now stinging, you wouldn’t be surprised if you got a lump the next day due to how hard your head smacked into it.

You turned back on the light next to your bed, you looked at your pillow, noticing the large rectangular shape inside it, you could see the cover of your textbook with a small piece of paper stuck on it through the sheer fabric. Angrily, you took your textbook out of the pillowcase, taking the folded piece of the paper that was on the front and opening it.

Thanks for letting us borrow this! Sweet dreams!

Much love, F and G!

You would’ve screamed and stormed your way over to the boy's dorm to beat both of the twins with the book if it wasn’t past midnight and if you weren’t in a room of sleeping girls. All you could do was put the textbook with the rest of your things and go to sleep angry, or at least try to sleep, now that you were wide awake and your head was throbbing.

Anyways, they also cheated all the time, they’d constantly bug you for answers in the middle of tests when they didn’t even need them. You hate to say this, but they were insanely good at potions. It makes sense how they created all those sweets. They would be able to fly through the tests in less than ten minutes at least, but they didn’t, they were lazy, so they’d mooch off you. When they’d get caught, they’d both blame you, which nearly got you in trouble with Snape several times.

Speaking of professors. They would mess with them. They threw snowballs at the back of Professor Quirrell's head. But, after learning the truth about what was going on with Quirrell under the head scarf. Maybe that could be the only thing they’ve ever done that was somewhat valid. It was still bad for Quirrell, he was already taking enough sneering from students the entire time he was working at the school, he was just being used as a vessel.

But that's not the point we’re talking about here.

There are way too many reasons for why you hate those redheaded twins. You didn’t understand how people put up with them, how they found them entertaining and funny. They were embarrassing. You hated how they excused themselves from responsibility. How they claimed everything they did was a “joke” or “prank” to get out of trouble.

It was like your brain was programmed to put you in a bad mood anytime you thought of them or were around them. Your eyes would roll annoyedly at the sight of them. You would get snippy and aggressive if they even tried talking to you. You did everything in your power to keep yourself away from them for the sake of your mood.

Their entire existence made your blood boil. Fred especially. He’s the worst out of the two of them. But there’s a difference between him and George. Fred is the instigator, George smooths things out, but that doesn’t mean he’s not trouble though. George is less annoying, only a bit less annoying. He’s nearly as annoying as Fred, but it seems as if Fred is more determined to get on your nerves.

And he is. You can tell.

He becomes louder when near you, constantly taps on your shoulder, asking for something when he already knows you won’t give him whatever it is or pretends like he didn’t, he also throws things at you and pretends that he doesn’t, lies or says things wrong on purpose just for you to scoff and correct him, calls you nicknames that you hate, teases you for whatever he can find, it’s as if he nitpicks anything you do so he can use it against you to annoy you, he does every little thing that peeves you only because he wants to get some type of reaction out of you, and the only reason on why he does it? He thinks it’s funny.

Fred isn’t completely fond of you either.

He knows what bothers you, what gets on your nerves, what makes your blood boil, then he uses it against you, to piss you off. You’re not sure how exactly he knows so much, but just somehow he does. Either it could be because he knows legilimency (which is very unlikely) or it’s that he’s just been listening in on your conversations with friends.

Whatever, what you are sure of is that you can’t stand the Weasley twins. You hate the Weasley twins. You hate Fred and George Weasley. You hate Fred Weasley. You hate him with every bone and muscle in your body.

Tell what you thought about this chapter! <3 Feedback is greatly appreciated!

taglist: @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @five-seconds-flat @nal-leo-17

#fred weasley #fred weasley fic #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x fem!reader #fred weasley angst #fred weasley smut #fred weasley series #fred weasley fanfic #fred weasley fluff #anyone but you #anyone but you series

218 notes · View notes

emchant3d · 1 year

Text

part two of Eddie forgetting about Valentine's day 🥰 part one here

The entire weekend is weird. Steve keeps giving him these looks like he’s waiting for him to do something, or say something, or pull something out from somewhere, but every time Eddie tries to hedge into a conversation about it, the damnedest thing happens.

Steve gets embarrassed.

His eyes flit in that flustered way of his, his cheeks go red, and he avoids Eddie’s gaze. And he’s used to seeing Steve a little worked up, sure, that’s nothing new, but the little bit of shame that dips into the expression each time about kills him.

So maybe it’s not the best choice, but he stops asking. He lets Steve deflect it. Keeps telling himself that Steve will talk about it when he’s ready, that if he just keeps being patient, he’ll get his answers.

By the time Sunday evening rolls around, Steve’s stopped looking like he’s waiting for some kind of sign to drop from the sky, so Eddie feels a little better about letting it go. Steve had spent some time with Robin that afternoon anyways, so it’s entirely possible the Wonder Twins worked out whatever it was Steve was stressing about anyway.

And that’s another odd thing - Eddie and Robin are pretty close. Not as close as Robin and Steve, obviously. No one could ever touch that relationship or be as important to Steve as Robin is. That’s a place in Steve’s life that Eddie will humbly step aside for, but like. Eddie and Robin are chill. They’ve bonded about being little baby queers in bumfuck Indiana, there’s a connection there, but she’d given him a look so full of disgust that afternoon that it had thrown Eddie for a loop. He has no idea what that’s about.

But Steve had seemed more settled. Centered, even, and while the quiet joy he’s used to seeing in his baby hasn’t fully returned, he doesn’t seem as silently devastated when he thinks Eddie isn’t looking.

It’s something, and he’ll take what he can get.

By the time Tuesday rolls around, he thinks maybe they can just move past whatever weirdness had consumed them the last few days. He’s already making plans for the weekend - maybe he’ll take Steve up to Indy and go back to the bar they’d visited in the fall that Steve had loved. He’d gotten hit on by what seemed like every man in the building, but his boy loves attention and more than deserves it, so Eddie can suffer through watching it - especially when it means he gets to pull him close under all those wandering eyes.

These thoughts get him through the day. A couple of people called out, and he wonders briefly why it seems so extra busy at the store, why they’re so short-staffed, but he shrugs it off - he won’t pretend to know the ins and outs of the Hawkins music scene.

By the time he gets home, he’s exhausted. He debates just crashing, but no - he’s behind on planning, and if he doesn’t get his notes cleared up tonight, he’ll put it off until he has no time to get them down in a way that’s coherent. He’ll still pull a kickass storyline out, obviously, but it’ll lack that certain je ne sais quoi that makes it an Eddie Munson Hellfire Special.

So he heats up some food and scarfs it down while standing in the kitchen, wishing he were with Steve because his baby’s in a cooking mood lately and whatever he would make would blow this can of Chef Boyardee right outta the damn water. But he’ll see him soon, he’s sure, and he lets his vague plans for Steve carry him to his bedroom where he tosses himself into a chair.

He snags his latest notebook and flips to an empty page, snatching up a pen and tapping it rapidly on the desk. He runs through the last session in his head, reminding himself where they’re all at.

Mike was holding his own in battle while Jeff was trying to revive Dustin, Lucas was making a convincing argument about using Gareth’s goblin character as a projectile, and Eddie’s mulling over how to make that sound badass and not just fucking ridiculous as he writes the date in the top right corner of the page. He taps the tip of the pen to the first line on the sheet, ready to start scrawling in his chicken scratch, when he stops. Frowns.

Looks at the date again.

Squints at it.

Because surely - no.

Oh, fuck. Oh Jesus H. Christ holy fucking shit, no.

But it glares back at him in its righteous fury, bold and bright against the page in his own messy handwriting, the ink deep red and accusing.

February 14.

It’s fucking Valentine’s day.

“FUCK.”

Panic squeezes his chest and his heart drops out of his ass as he scrambles to his feet, tangling in the legs of the chair and almost going sprawling over the carpet. He rights himself, barely, snagging his jacket off the bed and shrugging it on.

No fucking wonder Steve had looked so disappointed, so hurt. Eddie forgot his baby’s favorite holiday of the fucking year.

And it’s not that he forgot, he thinks desperately. That’s not what happened. He has plans. He has a song he’s been working on and a florist he was planning on calling and chocolates he was going to buy - dark, because that’s Steve’s favorite, and with cherries, because Steve fucking loves cherries and Eddie knows this because he’s a good fucking boyfriend. He knows when Valentine’s Day is. It’s not like it fucking moves. He knew it was coming, knew February was creeping along at a steady pace, knew the fourteenth was approaching.

It just didn’t click, is all. Dates don’t fall in line for him like they do for a lot of people. He struggles to remember schedules, always has, due dates and important days and holidays, those are no exception, though Eddie desperately wishes they were.

He pats his pocket, hears the jingle of his keys and tears out of the house and throws himself into his van.

God, no wonder Robin was looking at him like he was a monster. He is. He made Steve sad, and if there’s anything Robin Buckley will never allow or forgive, it’s someone hurting Steve. Fuck, he’s going to have to grovel to her so fucking hard.

Not that that’s his priority. Might not even be something he needs to worry about if Steve doesn’t forgive him for being the dumbest person on the fucking planet. No, he has to get to Steve’s house, has to apologize, has to explain. Has to make it up to him.

one more part!! still working on it 💕

edit: part 3!

people that asked to be tagged: @swimmingbirdrunningrock @zerokrox-blog @m-owo-n

#steddie #steve/eddie #steve x eddie #steddie drabble #steddie fic #my fic #steddie valentine's

929 notes · View notes

randomshyperson · 1 year

Text

Spring Break - Cheerleader!Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Summary: Every year during Spring Break, you travel to a camp filled with outdoor competitions. It comes with a bonus of facing your rival from back when the whole thing started, and there's nothing more attractive than Wanda Maximoff kicking your ass in every game. Some might say you let her win just to see her smile, but maybe that's loser talk.

Warnings: (+18), enemies to lovers, so much teasing and bickering, a lot of making out and kissing, bottom!Cheerleader Wanda being a tease, soft first-time smut, semi-public, gays who can't keep their hands off each other, fluff, mild angst when they’re being stubborn, friends being done, high school but summer camp vibes, happy ending i promise. Words: 11.176k

A/N-> I’m back with enemies to lovers (and some smut finally). This fic is quite old, but it was abandoned; after seeing Wednesday and Bianca dueling I regained inspiration for what I was doing in the 5k that was already done. You can thank Netflix for this one. I wasn't sure whether to split it into two parts or not, but I think I have longer fics than this one so I decided to post them all together. If you notice there's a pause, because I wrote it as two different parts, you didn't.

General Masterlist | AO3 | Wattpad

--//--

There was something about pissing you off that made Wanda twitch.

It started so long ago, when you first bumped into each other at Avengers Camp three years ago, and Wanda had the best and most stressful Spring Break since high school began; all because you were there and she was winning.

Now, senior year had arrived, and the annual tradition of joining the spring games for an entire week in the middle of nature at one of the most renowned vacation camps in the United States was going to happen again.

Wanda likes to believe that she was not expecting this. It would actually be absurd to admit that she waited, every year, for the familiar image of your old Danvers cap and your bored expression leaving the bus that brought your schoolmates, but if Wanda would be honest, now sitting in the driveway waiting for their driver to finish unloading the car while she lets her gaze run across the entrance courtyard of the Camp, pretending not to look for someone and yet feeling her whole body warm-up when she recognizes the female figure in the crowd of students from the rival school, Wanda has to admit a few things. First, you grew annoyingly attractive every year. The second, she couldn't wait to beat your ass at every game.

"Man, I can't believe we're competing with the Skrulls again, it's the third year in a row." Her twin's complaint made Wanda blink away, her face half-reddened with fear that she had been caught staring. But Pietro seemed busy enough with his own complaints.

"Well, at least we're winning." Wanda retorted making him laugh.

"Fair point." He said and looked at her. "Speaking of which, do you know what games you'll be competing in this year yet?"

"Um, I think I'll check with the girls first. I don't want to end up alone in swimming like last year." Wanda mutters and Pietro nods in understanding.

Soon the monitors are addressing those who have already arrived, and Wanda loses sight of you - not that she was looking - and busies herself with going to the cabin that would be hers for the next week.

You, on the other hand, lose your bag in a pile.

"God, why does this always happen." You grumble in irritation as you manage to see the handle of your blue suitcase, below a few hundred others.

"Every year, Y/N. And I keep saying, carry your bag on your lap, and you keep ignoring me." Your sister, Carol, comments beside you, throwing an arm around your shoulders. You roll your eyes, gently pushing her away. Carol is happy, with her dark, safe suitcase under her arm.

"Stop bugging me and help me." You grumble and she laughs before trying to find a better position for you two to pull your bag together.

With a little effort, you manage to pull your backpack out, and you stumble backward with a grunt - bumping into someone who keeps you from falling to the ground - as Carol pulls your bag out of the pile.

"Yay, teamwork!" She celebrates on the other side, but you are busy turning to thank her who held you up, only to face your best friend with a small smile.

"Bucky!" you greet him excitedly, turning your body to hug him tightly by the neck, and laughing when he spins you in the air.

You met Bucky at camp, and despite going to a rival school, you had enough things in common for the friendship to grow strong even though he was studying and living almost on the other side of the country. Fortunately, Skype and Whatsapp existed, and even as spring ended, you were still friends.

"Hello, my favorite Danvers. " He greets like that only to annoy your sister behind you, who rolls her eyes and chuckles, moving closer to hug him as well as soon as you let go. "How was your trip, girls?"

"Y/N slept the whole way." Carol replies.

"And Carol ate the whole way." You accuse taking your bag from her hand and ignoring the grimace to add, "Oh, no, wait, I made a mistake. She was actually daydreaming about Natasha Romanoff."

"Shut up!" Carol grunted quickly, trying to hit you, a soft pink appearing on her cheeks. You fled from her hands, laughing and running toward the check-in booth where the monitors were calling out names, and Bucky shook his head for interaction watching your sister run after you.

Avengers Camp was huge, and besides the cabins divided up among all the students who stayed there during the vacation seasons, there was a lake, volleyball and tennis courts, an auditorium, and even an arcade.

You were lucky to end up in a cabin with your sister and the other girls in your class - the brilliant Gwen Stacy and Darcy Lewis - who didn't seem too interested in the sports competitions but would surely win any of the scientific tests.

After packing up, all the campers were called to the main cabin, where there were tables scattered throughout the area, where the teenagers were seated ready to enjoy the delicious lunch and listen to the welcome speech.

Nick Fury was the Camp Director and no one could ever tell the real story behind his eye patch, each year new campers came up with new legends that made you laugh - like the story that an alien cat had been responsible for cutting the limb off.

"[...] It gives me great pleasure to welcome the honorary Skrulls from California!" Announced Fury and all the students of your school made a chorus of claps and shouts of celebration, banging on their desks. Fury laughed from his seat in the center of the room, waiting for the commotion to pass before announcing the other school. "And equally welcome, the so-far undefeated champions of the Spring Competitions, the Avengers!"

The rival school made an even better commotion, almost starting a food war. But you were having fun, even though your school had never beaten the Avengers in their home, it was to be expected that they would want to keep their camp as an undefeated venue. Even though last winter during the interclass event, the soccer team lost badly to another school. There was a taunt among the students that if the Avengers played away from home, they would lose. But you and the rest of your school were more interested in proving that you could beat them anywhere, and this was your last chance to be part of it.

As Fury continued with the general announcements - about the rules, and the competitions, concepts that were already very familiar to you after three years - you felt Bucky pull your cap off your head, muttering something about manners that made you laugh.

You were adjusting the tousled strands of hair when Carol gave you a gentle nudge.

"Your majesty will speak now." She sneers and you aren't even confused, knowing full well what this is about before you even raise your eyes to the center of the room again, and feel your stomach do a full turn at seeing Wanda Maximoff step up to the podium with the confidence and posture worthy of a queen.

You met Wanda in first grade, and from the first conflicting interactions, you have an obligation to call her a princess. Because the perfect little girl's posture is too annoying for you not to do so. This, and the fact that her father is a famous politician, and the family is deep in the money, kind of lives up to the nickname. Also, it gives you real amusement to see the pink in her cheeks when you call her that.

And Wanda, of course, is the representative speaker at the games. So every year until she graduates, she announces the competitions and collects the names, as well as basically running the whole thing with the other monitors. It's like Queen Bee and her subjects, and neither you nor any of your friends stop making fun of it.

"I didn't think the Maximoffs were going to come this year." Bucky comments low beside you, as Wanda announces that year's games. And you frown in confusion.

"What, but Wanda has basically been representing this competition forever." You reason, but Bucky shrugs his shoulders.

"I know, but I heard they were going back to their country for college." Bucky retorts. "And you have to admit, while Avengers Camp is fun, it's not worth much here for us to get admission points."

Carol murmurs in agreement. "Man, now I'm pissed they didn’t leave. Imagine a year without having to put up with Little Miss Perfect, a stolen dream." She mocks and you force a laugh, a strange feeling in your stomach. You should be happy at the possibility of not having to put up with Wanda. But it occurs to you that the games wouldn't be as much fun without her.

Clearing your throat, you poke at your food with your fork.

"I think I'll sign up just for racing this year." Bucky comments beside you. "We have Football season, and I don't want to end up accidentally hurting myself before the games."

"But you love wrestling." You say but he shrugs his shoulders, offering you a small smile.

It occurs to you as the announcements end, and students have to move to leave their names for the competitions, that the seniors are not very excited. Probably the stress of college admissions, you can relate to that yourself, still, it's a little sad to see how little participation from classmates your age.

"Danvers sisters, good to have you back for another year." Fury greets you excitedly as soon as you and Carol approach the registration stand - where there is a small crowd of students trying to choose which games they will compete in, and put their names on the prepared murals.

"Hey, Nick!" Carol greets back, doing a handshake that she never taught you with the principal. You merely offer him a smile. "How's the family?"

You took the attention away from your sister as you approached the mural that read Wildness Competitions, adjusting your cap slightly as you did so. There were many options for activities at Avengers Camp, and you usually chose mostly the ones that the public school wouldn't give you access to for the rest of the school year, like Hispism or Fencing, the latter being a secret talent.

"Well, if it isn't the Skrulls’ Golden Armor Knight." A female voice mocked behind you, and you were smiling before you even turned around.

"Maximoff, it's always a displeasure." You retorted sarcastically, your hands in your pockets. Wanda doesn't flinch at your rudeness, tossing her hair to the side as she approaches with some buttons which she as a representative, needs to put on the murals to signal about the teams.

"Having trouble picking your sport this year, Danvers? A suggestion, try to remember that you are going to lose no matter what."

"Really? 'Cause as far as I remember, that shiny trophy up there has my name on it." You retort nodding to where the fencing awards are set in the corner of the main hall. Wanda rolls her eyes. "But don't worry, princess, I'll go easy on you this year."

Wanda lets out a wry laugh, her eyes glittering in defiance.

"I guess it's more the other way around, huh?" She retorts. "Or in case you've forgotten, the highest number of wins is still mine."

Wanda had a point. You could win at Fencing all you wanted - and get the ridiculous nickname of Skrulls’ Golden Armor Knight from the girl just to annoy you - but Wanda still won everything. From archery to fighting to spelling. Never in a million years would you admit that maybe you were losing because you were busier trying not to be distracted by her annoyingly pretty face.

"Let's see how this year turns out." You tell her with clear defiance in your voice, and Wanda smiles, moving closer, and you swallow dryly, your body tensing up. But she is just reaching for something behind you - a jar with other buttons - and offers you an innocent smile.

"Game on, Danvers." She says, grabbing one of the items and placing it in your hands before turning around, hips swaying more than necessary as if she knew exactly where you were going to look, and you choke softly, your face heating up before you shake your head and focus on the badge in your hands. The symbol of your school pinned on it.

–//–

The first day of competitions was a complete success for the Avengers, which means it was complete hell for you.

Unlike basically all the rest of your colleagues who were taking it easy, you almost destroyed a snack machine that refused to deliver your energy drink after you finished in second place for the fourth consecutive activity. If anyone asked, you were annoyed because of the little victorious smile Wanda had on her face all morning, but no one asked, because Carol had to drag you away from the brunette to avoid you jumping on her neck and pulling that little smile off yourself.

"It's so strange to see you like this." Your sister comments as soon as you guys are so back at the cabin, and you flopped down on the bed, grunting irritably against the pillow.

Gwen - who participated in the short race and was still wearing the same uniform as you - handed Carol the small bottle of energy drink that the machine released after you and Wanda got into a heated argument.

"Like what?" you asked confused with your voice muffled by the pillowcase. Your sister laughed.

"So angry." She clarified by sitting down in one of the armchairs to take off her shoes. "I'm the hothead Danvers, you know? You're like, so good vibes all the time."

"I agree, and I don't even hang out with you guys that much." Gwen remarks before moving to grab her shower stuff. You prop yourself up on the bed with a chair.

"What are you trying to tell me?" You ask your sister, and she gives a short chuckle, shrugging.

"Nothing, I just think it's weird." She mumbles. "You're so calm usually, but just walk into the same room as Wanda and you turn into a ticking time bomb. It feels like she has some sort of switch, or as that other saying goes, of the matchstick and the spark-"

"This conversation doesn't make any sense." You interrupt by frowning and standing up. "I am as I have always been, and it's not my fault if Wanda is the most annoying creature on the planet who keeps wanting to beat me at everything. I'll be taking a shower before you come up with any other weird sayings."

The locker room was a complete mess, but at least you were distracted by Gwen's comments about the competition and about the Avengers planning a sleepover to care about.

Since the next competitions were not until the afternoon, you finished your shower and decided to put on a comfortable sweater to spend the next few hours with Bucky at the lake, and were just finishing putting on your socks when giggles attracted your attention.

Well, you recognized the sound, and you had a hundred insults ready to use, but when you turned your face and had the image of Wanda in a towel, they all disappeared with any other coherent thought.

She was laughing at some comment her colleague made, but when her gaze met with yours, her smile faltered.

"Hey, Danvers, nice running today." She complimented, the sentence loaded with sarcasm.

"Yeah, Y/N, congratulations on the silver medal." Wanda's friend, you think her name is Monica, said and unlike the brunette, she seemed completely sincere.

You didn't respond with more than a hum of understanding, suddenly hyperaware that Wanda was without clothes just a few feet away from you. Turning your attention back to your socks, you cleared your throat softly, trying to keep your gaze in front of you.

Wanda took up a locker three feet away from yours. You could see her figure out of the corner of your eye. Long legs exposed and-"

You cleared your throat again, shaking your head quietly.

"Are you going to watch the boys' race, Y/N?" It was Monica who asked - from the locker behind yours - and you frowned slightly.

"Hmm, I'm not sure." You muttered, feeling your face heat up when you saw Wanda take her underwear out of the cabinet. " I don't really have anyone to watch there."

"Really? But I thought you and that long-haired cutie were going out." Monica comments excitedly, and you turn your head to her with confusion. "What's his name again? Ben?"

"Bucky." You correct and don't notice the way Wanda is glancing at you out of the corner of her eye, pretending to be busy with her own clothes. "And we're not dating, he's just my friend. Besides, he decided not to run."

Monica makes a noise of agreement, and you look away because she is suddenly changing and you don't want to be disrespectful.

"We'll watch Pietro race, but I'd honestly rather hang out at the arcade." Monica continues. "We can play something after the race, can you call your sister to join us?"

"Sure, Monica." You mutter finishing your shoes. You stand, and turn around, ready to say goodbye, but you face Wanda without a towel and simply freeze.

She, despite the soft pink appearing on her cheeks, holds your gaze, a small smile threatening to leave her lips as she works to put on her bra. You let your gaze lower, your heart racing in your ears as the image of full breasts and down to her belly and-"

"O-kay, I'll see you later." You gasp with a very hot face, stumbling off the bench and running so fast from the locker room that you leave Monica with a confused expression.

"What was that?" She asks, and Gwen, who you didn't even remember to say goodbye to, shrugs her shoulders.

"I think she may be trying to avoid arguments." She suggests, and the comment makes Wanda sigh softly as she finishes dressing. "Speaking of which, Maximoff, any chance you'll go easy on Y/N? She gets stressed when she loses to you."

Wanda chuckles. " Not a chance."

–//–

One of the afternoon competitions, besides the boys' race, was archery. Which meant watching Kate Bishop, a girl from the year before yours, destroy all the older students. Her coach, Clint Barton, kept smiling proudly with each completed trial, and you overheard some students from the Avengers saying how he was sure to write a letter of recommendation there when the time came for Kate to enter the university.

However, this year you were distracted. Bucky and Carol were sitting next to you, clapping and whistling for Kate along with her friends - Yelena Belova, who was coincidentally the sister of your sister's long-time crush, Natasha Romanoff, and Steve Rogers and Sam Wilson, the latter two being on the soccer team with Bucky.

While everyone was impressed by the long-range targets, you were trying to keep the image of Wanda out of your head. The problem was that ever since you saw her without a towel in the locker room, the curve of her waist, and of her breasts seemed to have stuck.

"Are you okay?" Bucky's voice snapped you out of your fantasy. "Your face is red."

"I'm fine." You mumble grudgingly, stretching out your legs and letting your cap cover your eyes. "I'm just resting my eyes."

"Kate just hit a target in the sky." He comments. " It was pretty incredible."

"I bet it was." You merely reply, the image of something far more interesting in your head. Bucky makes a confused face but doesn't insist.

When the next contestant was announced, you grunted softly and started to get up, muttering that you were feeling queasy and were going to get some air. The ironic comment about you being outside already made by Carol was ignored.

You ended up in the back of one of the huts, and as you leaned your back against the wood, you took a deep breath.

Stop thinking about her. Stop thinking-

"Victory is already ours but you didn't have to skip the game." The teasing made you flinch. On any other day, before what happened in the locker room at least, any comment from Wanda would have been rebutted with an equally sarcastic one. But the image of her naked torso was still fresh in your mind, insistent, and you just wanted to be left alone.

"Fuck off, Maximoff." Aggressiveness failed in your tone, as your voice faltered hoarsely over your thoughts. You didn't have time to fix your mistake - Wanda was already mockingly chuckling, slow steps toward you.

"You know, I've been practically fencing back home. I even have a private tutor now." She informs you, to which you just roll your eyes without patience, trying to look at everything but the girl in front of you. "Maybe it's time for that trophy to stamp another name."

You chuckled dryly, stealing a glance at her. "In your dreams."

"No, I'll just kick your ass in reality." She assures you finally close enough. "It'll be too easy, you're all distracted this year..."

Your breath hitched in your throat as Wanda simply began to move closer, eyes intense and provocative as her tone of voice. You stared at her in shock at the magnetic tension between you, wondering if she would have the courage to break the distance as you wished to do. Wait, since when did you-

"Maximoff, Danvers." The voice of one of the monitors broke the momentum completely and made you both jump in fright, away from each other as if you had been burned. "The game is still going on. What are you two doing alone here? I hope it's not another fight-"

"No, sir-"

"Go mind your own business, Logan." You cut off the apologies of the good girl next to you, practically pushing her out of your way as you moved away from the cabin wall. The monitor grimaced at the hostility, but you knew him long enough to know you wouldn't have a problem. Logan was like an older sibling, and you didn't need another in this position. "We were just talking, or rather, Maximoff was bugging me, as usual."

Wanda snorted angrily, but Logan rolled his eyes impatiently at the whole thing. "Back to the game, girls." He ordered, ignoring your grumbling that you were already walking anyway and waiting for Wanda to do the same.

She followed you back to the bow field - Surprisingly quiet. You were too busy trying not to think about her to notice, and at some point, you both took completely opposite directions, drifting apart in the crowd of students.

Carol, however, noticed you coming, and as soon as you were seated again, she looked at you with a frown.

"What were you and Wanda doing?"

The question startled you as if your sister had been able to read your last thoughts. You grimaced immediately, knowing that your face was blushing.

"What? Nothing." You assured quickly, irritation in your voice. "We just bumped into each other in the entryway."

Carol didn't buy the lie judging by the look on her face, but she didn't have time to question - Kate won the event undefeated, and a crowd of clapping and celebrations erupted in the open field.

With the last match of the day, and having won the vast majority of the challenges, the Avengers were happy enough for a Victory party - Which was nonetheless a direct tease to the Skrulls, who by some miraculous luck, if manage to win all the next day's matches, could win the tournament. In this way, the crowd took the celebration back to the camp's main campfire, where the staff arranged dining tables and benches for the first outdoor meal of the holidays.

Alcohol was obviously not allowed, and that never stopped campers from smuggling it between disguised water bottles.

As one of the athletes for tomorrow's competitions, you decided to stay away from alcohol - quite unlike your sister, who took advantage of vodka shots to build up the courage to talk to Natasha Romanoff.

You were watching her awkward attempts from a safe distance with Bucky beside you, laughing softly when the boy announced that he was also going to try his luck with the one he liked tonight.

The thing was, Bucky didn't like anyone - As far as you knew. So the information caught you by surprise.

"Wait. What?"

But he chuckled, waving to a front with his glass, and you frowned trying to find the person. It took you a moment to realize that it was Sam Wilson, Co-Captain of the American Football Team. Avenger.

"Wow, he's..."

"An avenger, I know."

You chuckle, hiding your smile as you look down at your soda glass. "I was going to say handsome."

Bucky was blushing. You gave him the privacy to keep your gaze on Sam, knowing it would get worse if you stared at your friend.

"Fuck, yeah, I know." He gasped softly making you laugh.

"When did this happen?"

He shrugged. "I don't know, back at school?" He starts half uncertain. "We played together and he started to follow me on Instagram. One day, just playing conversation and even insults until it turned into a habit..." He jokes with a short laugh. "We came back here and it made sense. You know?"

You giggle at your friend's nervousness and clumsiness, finding the whole thing kind of adorable. "Yeah, I guess so." You say. "Go ahead, talk to him."

He sighs, deciding to turn his glass all at once before waving at you and heading off to talk to Sam Wilson.

Alone, you think about joining some colleagues closer to the fire, but nearby laughter catches your attention.

There is something about Wanda Maximoff's beauty that takes your breath away. And it's not fair that it seems to grow in the dim light of the moon and the stars. And Wanda, surrounded by her friends, laughing at something she has been told, with soft dimples in her cheeks, it is even more unfair the way the image makes your stomach turn nervously.

Has she always been beautiful like this, since her first win, and you were too busy with the game to notice? Or somehow, the school has changed you enough in the last year to notice that although Wanda was the most insufferable person you knew, she needs to be recognized as the most beautiful girl you have ever seen.

And then, if you think about it as you notice her not minding having her moment with her friends interrupted to help a freshman camper who seems lost as to where their cabin is, you'll realize that Wanda, when she's not competing with you and testing all your buttons, is not so insufferable. You will notice that she has always been kind and thoughtful and that people don't make her the leader of everything because she is rich or beautiful, but because she is the best at organizing games, and guiding people. And if you think about it, you will recognize that Wanda is just as tired as you are at the races, sweaty and breathless, and just as bright and hard-working at everything.

You suddenly think that Wanda deserved to win for the first time, as you have never acknowledged before. She must really be much brighter than you, because she surely wouldn't have taken all this time to realize what she was feeling.

Did it occur to you, so many years after you first laid eyes on her, that now you were really seeing her. There, near the campfire, accepting some more soda, so, so gorgeous.

'Fuck." You gasped in realization under your breath into the night, feeling something burn behind your eyes.

Wanda, as if she could guess, even sense the moment you pined for her attention, looked away for her friends until she met your gaze. She hesitated before assuming the same expression as always - Ready to torment you - but this time, you looked on the verge of tears when you stared back.

The second she noticed, she frowned in concern, all the masked arrogance falling from her face. But you didn't give her any time to react, you left your glass on the first table you could find and practically ran away from there. From her.

And of course, Wanda would be stubborn and insistent enough to follow you. Not daring to call your name on the way as if she guessed that you were going to run until you disappeared, or worse, turn to her and tell her to mind her own business.

When you walked inside the fencing hall, empty of course, she let her head work without thinking straight about what she was accusing you of.

You barely reached the sword cabinet when she walked in through the ajar door.

"I should have known you would try to cheat." She sneered convinced that she had caught you in the act. You froze, not for the reasons she imagines, your hands still on the closet lock. "That's sad, even for you, Danvers."

"Shut up."

She chuckled wickedly, crossing her arms as she stopped a little behind you. "Come on, if you admit it, I might consider not reporting you to the juries."

It was your turn to chuckle - Unlike her, almost tearfully. Wanda hesitated, confused, even more so when you turned to her, and your face had tears dried on the way there on your cheeks.

"Get out of here before I do something stupid."

But Wanda uncrossed her arms, concern on her face. "I've never seen you cry before."

"Wanda, I swear to god-"

"Not even when you broke your arm back in the first year." She recalls as she takes a step forward, and another, raising one of her hands toward your face slowly. You know you should move away, push her before she could realize how much you were trembling, how hot your skin was, but you couldn't move a muscle it. Wanda touched your cheek and you gasped, unable to keep your eyes open. "Sweetheart, what happened?"

It was so tender, so loving that your heart jumped in your chest. You almost sobbed, but instead, your emotions mixed and you raised your hand to her wrist, gripping hard but not pushing away, your angry eyes hiding insecurity that Wanda could only see because she knew you well enough, perhaps better than anyone else, even if neither of you had ever admitted this.

"Why do you care?" That's what you retorted, and it took her by surprise because Wanda didn't expect to have to answer that question. Not to her father, when she insisted that she was going back to Camp this year and he demanded a reason, nor to Pietro who questioned her why she still kept the brooch with the Danvers name on it that you lost to her in a card game in sophomore year. And even less to you, with tears in your eyes inside the hall of the only game she could never win. Her hesitation made you let go of her wrist, a tired sigh leaving your lips. "You don't. I...please, Wanda, just leave me alone."

You scared her. You looked so small, so insecure and uncertain, vulnerable. You? Never in a million years had you allowed Wanda to see you like this. She didn't know how to cope with it.

Your footsteps moved away, and by your breath, you were crying. She came closer but lost the courage to break your privacy. Her mind filled with anxiety - It didn't matter how long you had known each other. You were rivals, nothing more than that. Wanda had no right to invade your space.

"Go away." You insisted seriously with a voice hoarse with emotion and Wanda shuddered. It was different from the anger of losing - It was almost as if she had stabbed you in the back. Or had hurt you.

She swallowed dryly, and before you could repeat the order, she spoke:

"If I win tomorrow, you will tell me what happened."

The deal hangs in the air for a few moments, carrying the tension between the two of you. Wanda almost decides to leave without an answer when you sigh.

"What if I win?"

She smiles even though you can't see it. "You can pick your prize." She says and doesn't wait for you to think about it, clearing her throat before murmuring goodnight and leaving the hall.

You walk away to the trophy cabinet again and stare at one of the photographs of last year's Fencing team. You and Wanda are in it, in opposite positions. And for the first time in three years, you wish she were standing right next to you.

–//–

Sleep puts some sense into your head.

You were practically mortified with shame after thinking about the whole interaction with Wanda the night before, imagining that it now gave her enough power to somehow humiliate you and then hating that you thought that way of Wanda, who despite the rivalries, didn't seem the sort of person who would use a moment like that to mock you in the least.

So you had a foolproof plan the next morning: You would win fencing, and ask Wanda to stay away from you for the rest of the summer as your prize, succinctly hiding any unwanted feelings until it was time to leave Camp so that you would never have to see Wanda Maximoff again.

You think you were lucky this whole thing was happening in the last year.

The next day of competitions seemed to have been more aggressive than the previous one. To your complete happiness, the Avengers were irresponsible enough about the previous day's party to get careless.

The Skrull won the day's activities - Tight, you have to admit - but still champions. It wasn't all of them, unfortunately, but it would put both teams through to the final day of matches the next afternoon.

Fencing was one of the last competitions.

You managed to avoid Wanda and her worried glances all morning, and consequently, your friends and sister, who noticed the lack of fighting between you.

The fencing hall was considerably full when you arrived. Although most people didn't share much interest in the sport, everyone enjoyed watching you and Wanda compete.

She was already in uniform when you arrived, and you ignored with a tightness in your chest her attempt to search in your face for any discomfort from the previous night.

"You're late, Danvers." Professor Jacques Duquesne warned, also in uniform and with a sword at his waist. You sighed wearily, taking off your jacket to put on your uniform.

"Sorry, I... I didn't want to come." You muttered quietly, and the man frowned in confusion.

"What was that?" he asked without having heard, but you forced a smile.

"Nothing. Shall we get started?"

The spectators arranged themselves around you just as the teams were getting into position to compete. As Captains, you and Wanda were the last.

Your team won most of the duels, which on any other occasion would have cheered you up infinitely. But not today, because you spent most of the competition stealing glances at Wanda, who did the same, unsure of whether or not to approach you.

You had to face the champions of her team, as did Wanda with yours, and so when you finally went to face each other, you shared the slightly breathless but undefeated posture.

Wanda removed her protective helmet to drink water, and her slightly ruffled hair and rosy cheeks made your heart soar.

Somehow, you decided that teasing her was a better idea than complimenting her on how pretty she looked.

"Hey Maximoff, did Daddy pay for private lessons for the rest of your team as well?"

Your team laughed at the joke, but Wanda finished a long sip of the water leisurely, staring at you long enough to make you feel completely clumsy.

As soon as she returned the bottle to the table, she stared at you again.

"Are you really going to pretend nothing happened yesterday, Danvers?"

Everyone who was paying attention to the conversation whispered in curiosity, and your body froze. Wanda didn't seem to mind the audience one bit, but you huffed impatiently when Carol asked what she was talking about.

Without answering either of them, you turned your back and walked to the mat, waiting for the competition to begin.

As it turns out, teasing and ignoring Wanda seemed to have infuriated her. The hall filled with tension once the last duel began, and you, and all your confidence as an undefeated champion faltered when Wanda became a beast in the sport overnight.

She scored two points in a row, moving so quickly and masterfully that if you didn't have a reputation to uphold you would have congratulated her.

"It looks like we're going to have a new champion this year." Mr.Duquesne commented proudly and teasingly, receiving a chorus of soft celebration from the Avengers present.

You've had enough.

She tried hard to maintain a defensive position, but you scored within seconds of the announcement that the round had begun.

With the tip of the sword still on her chest, you teased:

"I guess we can't buy talent after all."

Wanda grunted angrily, without waiting for the next round to be announced, spun the sword striking yours, and resumed the duel. You fought back every blow with the mastery of a champion, but Wanda didn't back down once.

"What's the matter, Maximoff, can't get me?" You sneered between one defense and another, irritating her even more. When it looked like she was going to hit you, you spun your body around and hit her in the arm.

The audience, completely tense, split between boos and cheers of celebration. The teacher laughed impressed.

"It's a draw." He said. "Girls, get back to-"

But Wanda attacked you - For a microsecond, you managed to react in time and prevent her from scoring.

She seemed a lot angrier all of a sudden, and you kept up the defense, waiting for a gap that apparently she wasn't going to provide.

Long steps backward to avoid the sword in your direction, in an albeit hurried, fully coordinated dance, Wanda managed to take the fight to the outside.

The crowd got excited and drowned out Mr.Duquesne's protests about rules, the whole group following you and Wanda outside. Any campers who had previously been uninterested in watching the match took an immediate interest in the fight taking place, and it wasn't long before there was a large number of people in an open circle around the huts, trying to watch.

In one of the deflections, you had to do a somersault between two haystacks to dodge a blow that was impossible to block, stealing certain victory from the girl behind you, who grunted in annoyance.

In the motion, you knocked the helmet off your head.

"Going to play dirty then, Maximoff? Fine." You gasped equally affected at the girl who had paused her attacks. "It's our last year, let's make it count."

Wanda removed her helmet as well, her sword still raised for any attempted attacks. "I'm listening, Danvers." She returns between teeth, and you have to smile.

"I invoke a military challenge." You announce then, surprising her for only half a second. "No masks, no tips." You continue, the audience getting excited. "First one to draw blood wins. I might give you a nice scar to remind you who defeated you."

Some Skrulls laugh, but Wanda is not intimidated. She throws her helmet away and raises her chin in your direction.

"What about our deal?"

You swallow dryly, but try to disguise it. "Still standing."

A glimmer of a smile forms on Wanda's lips, and she has the nobility to wait for you to nod before attacking next time.

It's suddenly much harder to fight Wanda. You blame these stupid feelings on your chest because once you realize that if you hit her, you're going to hurt her, you just can't do it.

Wanda doesn't seem to have much of a problem with that, because she attacks you with fervor. You think you might lose, because of the way she starts cornering you, and no chance for you to do another flip, so you despair. If you lose, you'll have to confess why you were crying, and that's unacceptable.

She throws a low, clean hit, but you jump. Before Wanda can get ready for the next one, you grab her waist and pull her to you.

The protest about the rules is muffled in your ears as your lips crash against hers. Wanda gasps, closing her eyes and dropping her sword to the ground at the same second the entire audience goes completely silent, shocked.

It's good, no, it's incredible. As breathtakingly overwhelming as you imagined kissing Wanda Maximoff would feel. She gasps against your lips, pressing back, and your chest screams.

The audience vibrates and you wake up, realizing what you had just done.

You let go of Wanda with a long step away from her, who opens her eyes at the same moment, her breathing now affected for a completely different reason. She looks at you dumbfounded.

"W-what are you-" She tries as she steps forward, her hand raised towards your wrist, but you flinch. You raise your sword, and with one clean strike, hit her palm.

The cut is small, but it makes her grunt in pain and surprise. You feel like you might start crying again, but you declare in a hoarse voice:

"I won."

Wanda's eyes fill with tears, but you assume they are tears of rage by the way she begins to shout angrily in the teacher's direction, saying that you had cheated while trying to be heard as the audience begins to shout your name and spread out in celebration.

Duquesne is equally in shock and mutters that technically there isn't a rule about kissing your opponent.

They lift you into the air, with the trophy, but when you capture Wanda's head-down posture and the completely hurt look she gives you before turning away, you don't feel like you've won anything.

–//–

With an injury, Wanda was out of all the upcoming competitions, which were sure to count in the Skrulls' favor.

Your school couldn't be happier, and you couldn't be more miserable.

Wanda was walking around the camp with her hand bandaged and you just wanted to get away from the people who kept congratulating you on the duel.

There was also the matter of the angry stares from the other Avengers, especially your opponent's twin, which only made you feel like the worst person in the world.

When night came, and a few groups decided to set up card tables from poker to blackjack, you slipped outside to breathe properly.

The universe was surely testing you when you met Wanda across the door, and to add to your misfortune, she wasn't alone.

Some stupid guy was cornering her against the wall of one of the booths - clearly flirting by whispering things in her ear that made her giggle shyly.

With your jaw locked, you approached them in hard steps.

"Hey, Maximoff, I want to talk to you." You announced impatiently, feeling your chest burn with the scene in front of you.

She flinched at your sudden arrival, but the boy let out a short laugh.

"We're already in a conversation, cheater." He sneered, his hand on the wall coming down to Wanda's shoulders. "Why don't you go back to your cabin?"

"Listen here asshole-"

But Wanda sighed impatiently, pulling the boy's arm off her with a shove. "Fuck off you two, my day was bad enough to deal with this now."

She stormed off annoyed without caring, and you huffed impatiently. When the boy made mention of following her, you stepped in front of him, receiving a wry laugh.

"Back off, Danvers." He warned. "You may be a girl, but if you piss me off I'll break your face."

The kick to the ball made him bend his knees, grunting in pain. You didn't let him fall, holding him by the shoulders to mock against his ear:

"It's more the other way, don't you think?" He couldn't answer, still shaking from the blow. You pushed him away, and he fell to the ground, holding his front. "Stay away from her, she's mine."

Despite the pain, he gasped in confusion, "I thought you two hated each other, you maniac!"

Without bothering to respond, you headed off in the direction the girl had left.

Wanda was clearly not in the mood for conversation, but you had to chuckle as you realized where she was going - or practically running at hard paces.

The fencing hall was empty of course. Even the Professor had joined the rest of the staff for the day's celebrations, and so you followed Wanda without any concern.

"I don't want to talk to you, Danvers." She warned between teeth still on her back, hearing your breaths panting from the rush of having to catch up with her. You chuckle humourlessly, closing the door behind you.

"But you got time for some idiot to flirt with you?" your retort came out so bitter - so jealous - that Wanda turned her face to you with a frown in complete confusion.

"How is that your problem?" She demanded but you shrugged relaxedly. The lack of an answer only irritated her more. "I've had enough of you for today don't you think? Leave me alone."

You snickered taking a step forward that made her lock her jaw.

"Come on, what's this?" You teased. "One defeat and you get tired of all? Don't you even want to try a rematch?"

It was Wanda's turn to chuckle, the tension growing between the two of you with every second.

"So you can cheat again? Hard pass."

You smiled, raising your hands in the air as a sign of surrender.

"I don't need to cheat, Maximoff." You retorted. "Everyone, including you and I, knows I'm the best." You declare receiving a snort and a roll of the eyes. But you continue to smile, not losing your confidence. "In fact, I bet I can beat you even without a sword."

Wanda shook her head. "You know what, Danvers? You must have had a few beers, huh?" She deduced, motioning to the sword cabinet and continuing to speak without giving you a chance to deny it. "Any other day, I'd tell you to fuck off and leave me alone. But you were a brat today, that whole scene and whatever manipulation you were trying to pull off with the crying and then the kissing..."

You hesitate, losing your posture completely. "Wanda, I wasn't-"

But she chuckles, interrupting you. "Whatever it is, let's put an end to it." She says seriously, arming herself with one of the swords. "You got what you wanted. Me, out of all competitions because of this stupid injury and your team winning tomorrow. Yep, I admit it. Everyone knows you guys are going to win baseball, it's your school's specialty, and there's no reason to deny it. But let's be honest about today: you cheated. And I want you to acknowledge that I would have won."

You sigh, deciding to put an end to those games with each other, as Wanda wanted. But not in the way she expects.

Shrugging, you gesture with open arms. "I'm really sorry, Wanda." You say in a false tone of regret. "I'm sorry you're such a bad loser."

Wanda grunted in irritation, and in the blink of an eye, spun the sword around - Hitting your open hand and mirroring your bruises. You gasped in pain, taking a step backward.

"What the hell-"

But your shock was short-lived, Wanda moved and you reacted. Without a sword, your only option was to dodge and that was the hardest task.

"Just admit it, Danvers!" Wanda demanded between one blow and another, growing breathless as the movements went on. "I am. Better.Than. You." Each word was punctuated with an attempt to hit you - Not really to hurt but to lean in and mark.

She finally hit you for the second time when she trapped you between one cupboard and another. You protested in irritation at the gentle burning on your thigh.

"You little shit." You cursed low as you dodged her last. Wanda smiled in satisfaction.

Somehow, you managed to get around her after a miscalculated blow that pinned her sword to a cushion. Wanda got busy trying to pull the item out and gave you enough time to jump on her.

Her healthy hand tried to pull the sword out to hit you but you kicked the handle, and the item flew to the ground. Wanda protested breathlessly, trying to struggle away, but you pressed her against the wall of the room by the waist.

Faces flushed from the exertion and proximity, she looked at you with a fury in her eyes that didn't just look like anger.

"Fuck off, Danvers, let me go!" She demanded clearly affected, her fists closed against your shoulders. You weren't thinking straight - Since when did Wanda look so beautiful when she was pissed off? - She tried to throw punches but you grabbed her fists, holding them tightly against you. "You just can't help it, can you? You know you can't beat me and you just keep cheating!"

"Yeah, I can't help it." You pant, letting your gaze fall to her mouth. Her breathing hitches and when you start to lean in, Wanda gasps, stopping struggling.

"Don't." She asks in a whisper, and you stop leaning in the same instant, worried eyes scanning her face. Wanda's fill with tears. "I can't take it... if it's just a game... if you don't mean it."

Your heart races in your chest, threads of hope burning outwards.

You stare into her eyes, trying to read everything she hasn't explained. "You... You want me to mean it?"

Wanda sighs incredulously, tired.

"I've been waiting for you to notice me for three years, Danvers."

"W-what?"

Wanda looks away, despite her rosy cheeks like your own, she looks sad.

"I'm just tired of all this cat and mouse between us." She continues. "Trying to capture your attention for the few days we have together each year. You've never seen me that way, and I just don't have it in me to keep trying to get you to notice me." She declares with a sigh. "Let me go, okay? It's our last year, you'll never see me again after this spring, it doesn't have to be weird on our last days. We can do a truce, and be mature about-"

Instead of letting her finish her completely meaningless monologue for feelings that Wanda has no idea are much reciprocated, you just kiss her. Though abrupt, your lips are soft on hers. She shudders, first surprised and then affected, ready to reciprocate when you loosen her.

"I notice you, Wanda." You confess in a husky voice and short breath. "Every damn day of this camp, from the first moment I saw you. I noticed you, and I liked you. So much, it infuriated me. All I could think about was you and your face and your jokes and every little smile of victory. I never hated you, Wanda, I just hated how much I cared about you."

She gasps softly, trying to believe the confessions. "B-but you never said anything..."

"Neither did you." You retort with a small smile. "We just competed. Yelling at each other, trying to... just put it out, never saying the right words. Well, I'll do the honors, I guess. Wanda, I like you. I'm in love with you. The whole puppy love, to the moon and back, lovey-dovey, carry a torch for-"

Wanda interrupts your sweet teasing with a soft, emotional giggle. "Shut up, you idiot." She says, pulling you by the collar of the blouse to kiss you again. Slower than the other time, bringing delicious shivers to your entire body. She breaks away only to say she feels the same way.

Then you just kiss her again, just to make sure. It's easy to get addicted to the feeling of her lips on yours until her tongue slides over and starts to get too hot all around. The sound of lips slapping together mingles with affected gasps until the pace picks up and all the accumulated lust from so long of rivalry burns between you.

Wanda grows impatient - Her mouth firmly pressed to yours distracts you from where her hands are moving. You grunt affected as she scratches under your shirt, your back, and your torso, trying to pull you over her.

You press your hips together to keep her against the wall pulling out an affected whimper that makes you shiver - But surrendered to the urge, you forget about recent events and press your open palm to the wall for support. The pain is immediate and makes you break the kiss with a yelp.

Wanda opens her eyes worriedly, trying to push all the arousal away. "What's wrong?" She asks, but you're already bringing your bruised hand to chest height.

"I forgot about it." You mumble, trying to squeeze your hand to make the pain go away. Wanda bites back a smile.

"Karma's a bitch, huh?" she teases, getting a short laugh out of you. Your instinct is to kiss her again at the same intensity as before, but Wanda doesn't let you, breaking the session the next moment. "Easy tiger."

A little breathless and definitely missing kissing her, you ask, "Don't you want it anymore?"

She licks her lips, looking away to try and gain some rationality again. "I don't think you'll be able to do much with a bruised hand, huh?" It's clearly a joke, but you're too turned on to catch it.

"Well, I have another one, and my mouth..." Wanda stares at you in stunned shock, her face burning and her eyes darkening a little. You grunt in shame, hiding your face in her collarbone. "Shit, you didn't mean it."

She giggles awkwardly, wrapping her arms around your waist. "You need a bandage, baby. We'll have time for this later."

You raise your gaze to her again, and Wanda stares at you doubtfully from your expression. "I like it when you call me that."

She smiles, teasing and loving at the same time. "Better than shithead, I suppose."

"They both have their charm, I guess." You joke back managing to make her laugh before stealing a few more kisses.

All the way to the infirmary, all you can think about is how happy you are - And how your friends are going to adjust to the new dynamic.

–//–

Falling into a routine with Wanda was as easy as falling for her.

The familiar teasing didn't end - In a way, it got infinitely better, because, after each little bickering, you and Wanda made up with lots of kisses.

The most absurd thing was your sister's reaction. No surprise at all.

"I mean, everyone saw you two kissing." She retorted unimpressed, continuing to eat her breakfast as if you hadn't spent the previous day preparing the best way to tell. You huffed indignantly, but Wanda sighed, giving you a pat on the back before going to sit down. The same reaction for your friends, who seemed even somewhat reassured that now they wouldn't have to endure the arguing.

As for the rest of the people, well, everyone else had their own lives to take care of to give a damn about what Wanda and you have been up to.

With the baseball game approaching and the end of Spring Break, there was an understanding between you and Wanda that your time together was coming to an end. You didn't want to talk about it - to avoid creating impossible expectations if you considered the distance between California and New York and the hurt of an inevitable goodbye.

For now, you and Wanda were enjoying as much time together as possible, and that included escaping the game to make out before and between breaks.

Wanda giggled affectedly at the tickling your fingers did next to her hips, an attempt to make her relax to what was about to happen between you since the first kisses began. The question hung in the air and the way your breaths were uncompressed and your clothes crumpled.

"They'll start looking for us at some point..." Wanda recalled, the noise of the game resuming in the background, muffled by the closed doors of the empty locker room where you two were hiding. Despite the warning, her hands were entwined behind your neck, and her legs tight around your waist. The cheer skirt pulled up by your hands on her thighs.

You hum in understanding, distracted by the soft skin of her collarbone. You traced a path down to the valley of her covered breasts and Wanda shuddered, moaning in anticipation.

But as soon as your hands reached under her skirt, fingers playing with the fabric of her panties, Wanda tensed anxiously, biting her lips as she sought your gaze.

"Is everything okay?" You asked immediately, stopping your movements and staring back at her. "Do you want me to continue...?"

Wanda let out a broken breath, the look full of anxiety made you frown. You were ready to assure her it was okay if she refused when she replied:

"I want to but... I've never done it before." She confesses in a small whisper, and your heart skips a beat. "And also, I had to talk to my friends about this, and they told me it would be special because we like each other but I just kept thinking that it's going to happen and it will be amazing and when you leave, I'll never be able to do it again without remembering you and I'll be missing you back home..."

"Hey, breathe." You interrupted her anxious babbling with a small chuckle, moving your hands to her face, and squeezing her cheeks for a moment. "God, you're so beautiful." You murmured staring at her adoringly. Wanda blushed, looking away, "Hey, look at me, sweetheart. You want to talk about leaving?"

She swallowed dryly, nodding. "I'm sorry." She mumbles immediately. "I know we kind of agreed not to talk about it, but... fuck, I really like you. If I, you know... have sex with you, I'm just sure I'll fall harder. And I don't know if I want to go through the pain of losing you in a few days."

You swallowed dryly, caressing her cheeks as you absorbed her words. Wanda was even more nervous at your silence.

"Say something, please."

You smiled, staring at her. "I'm sorry, I just... I really am in love with you, Wanda." You confessed tenderly, making her blush. "Sex or no sex, I really am. And saying goodbye to you will hurt."

Wanda nods sadly before hugging you. "Yeah, I know." When she sniffles softly, you kiss her neck to calm her, until her breathing stabilizes again and Wanda releases you to kiss you gently, once and twice, until it starts to get hot again and she sighs against your lips, her trembling fingers groping your body unhurriedly as if she wants to memorize.

"Baby..." She called softly against your lips, her hands moving up into your blouse and making you shudder. "I want to make love to you." She whispered taking all the air out of your lungs. "Give me something to remember you by."

Despite the nervousness and excitement, you managed to tease as your hands retraced their way under her skirt. "What, the matching scars aren't enough for you, darling?"

Wanda lets out an affected giggle at the proximity to your joke about the healed bruises on your hands, but the sound turns to a deep sigh when her panties slip down her legs. You maintain eye contact with her, pulling the item down until you take it off by her ankles. Wanda bites her lip hard as she sees you on your knees, moving up your way again with kisses on her legs.

Her muscles quiver as you kiss the inside of her thighs, and Wanda inhales a shaky breath, her hands gripping the table she's sitting on tightly.

"Be gentle." She asks as she feels the kisses coming closer to where she is burning. You let out a soft laugh, rising again to kiss her on the mouth. Wanda has no time to be eager for the delay of her relief, because you grab her waist and pull her closer, the friction between your hips making her whimper.

Your tongue slides over hers hungrily, kissing her until she's dizzy with arousal, and instinctively starts forcing her hips against yours - The uncovered intimacy smearing the wetness on the fabric of your leg and making you moan against her.

One of your hands spreads her legs open by her thigh, fingers coming up fast to tease her entrance and make Wanda break the kiss with an affected whimper.

"Y-yes, baby, please, no more teasing." Wanda moans, throwing her hips against your hand. "I'm ready."

You grunt softly, tentatively cupping the folds between your fingers, spreading the wetness over the entire length. "Hmm, I can feel that." You teased softly, pulling your hand away to get a taste. Wanda choked, blushing heavily as she watched you suck your fingers one by one, rolling her eyes in pleasure as you tasted her. The next second, you moved your hand back between her legs, staring her in the eye before sliding a finger inside. She moaned at the intrusion, and you let her get used to it, encouraging her with your free hand on her back, relaxing her with a gentle massage.

"There you go... all the way in." You narrated softly, having to maintain all mental control not to fuck her roughly, feeling your body vibrate with the sensation of Wanda's soft wet walls on your fingerprints. She pulsed against you, her hands gripping your blouse tightly as the repetitive motion made her legs twitch. "God, you're so tight." You grunted, hiding your face in her collarbone and angling your palm to press against her clit as well. Wanda let out a loud yelp, wrapping one of her legs around your waist and increasing your reach.

"M-more, please-I just need-" She tried to formulate, starting to follow your movements with her hips. You shushed her against her neck, kissing your way to her ear.

"Relax, I'll give you what you need, baby." Was your only warning before removing yourself from her, only to sink two fingers inside next time. Wanda gasped at the intrusion, but you swallowed her moan with your own mouth, not moving inside her until she was ready.

Soon, your movements had resumed, and with your mouth glued to hers, you swallowed each breathless moan as Wanda began to tremble in your fingers, squeezing as her orgasm built.

Just as she was panting and restless, the locker room door opened. She raised desperate eyes to you, but you covered her mouth with your free hand and sped up your movements.

Your skin muffled her whimpers, and you bit your lips at the sinful image in front of you.

"Danvers? Maximoff? Are you guys here? The coach is looking for two." it was some of the monitors, probably checking the camp behind whoever was running away from the game. You reached a deep sweet spot inside Wanda and she threw her head back.

The monitor grumbled in frustration and the door closed again - You barely noticed, bringing the girl beneath you to her climax. Wanda spread herself in your hand, her body spasming against you and a long muffled moan against your hand.

Her pupils were so dark they nearly hold any green.

"Fucking gorgeous." You praised as you removed your hand to kiss her, and Wanda corresponded with difficulty, smiling breathlessly as she tried to recover from the intensity of her first orgasm.

As soon as she could properly match it, Wanda dominated the kiss - One hand moving up to the back of your neck, to tug at your hair as she bit your bottom lip, drawing a soft moan from you.

"Please, can we go back to the cabin?" It sounded like a request but felt like an order by the way Wanda dug her nails into your waist. A warning. "I want you to be comfortable when you go down on me."

"God, Wanda, you're such a tease." You grumbled in a mixture of arousal and embarrassment, moving like an obedient puppy as she stood up on shaky legs and guided you by the hand back to the cabins.

Her panties are tucked tightly in your pocket.

–//–

Disgustingly adorable, is how your friends would describe the last few days in the company of you and Wanda, who have apparently unlearned how to function away from each other.

Especially the last day - Without any concern for the rest of the world while in an intense make-out session against the bus that was supposed to take you and Carol back to California.

"Jesus, I'm going to have nightmares." Your sister complained with a grimace to her now official girlfriend - Natasha Romanoff - who was putting away the last bag in the family car that was going to take her home. The redhead laughed, looking at where Carol was staring and knowing she was referring to your hand firmly squeezing Wanda's ass as she giggled between the kisses you two shared.

"Why are they behaving like they're never going to see each other again? It's traumatizing." It wasn't Nat, but Bucky who spoke as he arrived with Sam beside him, who laughed in agreement. Carol made a mischievous face.

"Well, maybe that's my fault? I may have forgotten to mention to my lovely sister that Nat told me that Wanda was going to the same college as her next year."

"Pretty mean, Danvers." Nat commented with a certain pride in her voice. Carol laughed.

"When you share a room with a couple in love, you'll understand." She retorted. The group continued to watch you and Wanda, until you kissed deeply in farewell until she let you on the bus. Carol sighed. "Maybe if she starts whining on the way, I'll consider saying that she and Wanda chose the same college without even knowing it."

The group chuckled, saying goodbye one last time.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #elizabeth olsen x reader #marvel imagines

659 notes · View notes

hard-core-super-star · 8 months

Note

Hello, I have a request for Hailee Steinfeld x reader: The reader works at a law firm and is a serious and kinda intimidating person, while also being really loving with close ones. The two have been married for a while and have kids, and before their anniversary reader surprises Hailee with the help of their children with a cute little cake and presents. It was chaotic to calm the kids’ excitement but the reader eventually worked it out.

I’m sorry if the request is kinda plain or doesn’t have enough info, it’s my first time requesting:)

I just now discovered your page and I absolutely adore your writing, it’s super original and fun to read.❤️

honeycomb [H.Steinfeld]

pairing: hailee steinfeld x reader

summary: you decide to let your kids help you bake a cake for your wife and cute chaos ensues.

warnings: none; quite literally the softest, most cutest fluff i've ever written; cheesy nicknames; incredibly blunt children; hailee being way too proud of being the favorite

wordcount: 1.7k

a/n: first of all, thank you so much for your kind words, lovely anon! this request was NOT plain, it was wonderful, thank you for sending it in. i was giggling and kicking my feet every time i wrote the word 'wife' and i can only hope you react the same way while reading. [i purposely left the descriptions and names of the kids vague and gender-neutral so you can picture them any way you want...and yes, both of their names are references to hailee projects, i couldn't resist]

* * * * * * *

You’re not sure what possessed you to invite your kids to help you bake a cake for their mom but you’re sure your kitchen will never look the same again.

You couldn’t deny that the idea was cute, and you adored the smiles you received from the twins when you offered to let them help you, but now you were covered in flour and chasing around two eight-year-olds on a sugar high. Hailee can say whatever she wants but they both got that restless spirit from her and not you.

A restless spirit that was going to get somebody in trouble and considering how much your wife loves spoiling your kids, that somebody was going to be you. You don’t really mind, the mere thought of getting ‘lectured’ by her being enough to make you chuckle to yourself.

Unfortunately, you’re supposed to be playing the role of a responsible adult right now and laughing the way you are only makes the twins believe their rambunctiousness is being rewarded.

“Charlie, no pushing,” you say, forcing yourself to sound strict. (Or as strict as you can be with two adorable pairs of brown eyes staring up at you like you hold all the answers to the universe) “Come on, help me clean up a little before your mom comes home.”

Your request gets mostly ignored but at least they walk back to the kitchen with you. You walk around, cleaning countertops with scattered bits of flour and sugar, while pretending you don’t notice how restless they’re getting. Their excitement is too endearing for you to be annoyed by what a hard time Charlie’s having staying still.

It’s almost funny how much more tolerant you are when it comes to your family. If anyone back at the office was tapping their foot the way the small brunette is, you’d probably glare at them. Now, all you can do is smile and try to come up with a way to entertain both kids.

The more reserved of the two speaks up before you get a chance to offer them something to do. “When’s mom coming back?”

“Hopefully in the next thirty minutes,” you reply as you sneak a glance at the clock. You decide it’s best not to point out the fact that you’ve been saying that for the past hour or so.

Hailee was clearly running late but you’re definitely not the right person to complain about that. You’re just glad she’s found another project to be passionate about. Especially since it took a lot of convincing to get her to go back to acting once the twins were old enough to understand why their mom worked at such weird hours.

You were just glad your own job allowed you to work from home a few days a week so your kids never felt like they had to take on the world on their own. The last thing you want is for them to feel like you never spend time together as a family.

Hence why you asked for the day off from your highly demanding job to prepare a surprise for your wife. Every year she insisted more and more that she didn’t need you to do anything special for your anniversary, that spending time with you every day was the only gift she could ever want, but that never stopped you from finding some way to do something for her. This year was the first year that you got your kids involved and you can only imagine the look of joy you’re bound to receive because of it.

“The cake’s done!”

You turn toward the oven as soon as you hear the announcement with a smile on your face. “Good job, little bumblebee.”

The nickname is a little too on the nose for your liking but it’s incredibly fitting and it makes the twins smile like nothing else…except maybe Hailee. They’re going through a phase where all they want to do is be around her and honestly, you can’t be mad about that because you’re exactly the same way. That’s probably where they got that from actually.

The twins start chattering excitedly about the cake while you carefully take it out of the oven and place it on the kitchen island. It honestly looks good as long as you ignore all the chaos making it left behind. Then again, chaos seems to be the main love language of your eight-year-olds and who are you to deny them?

“Okay, who wants to help me decorate it?”

You had no idea the kind of response those words were going to get.

Turns out, the twins not only got their restless spirits from Hailee but they also got her creativity and her badly hidden perfectionism. (Although you might share the blame for that last trait) It takes practically all your energy and your focus to keep them somewhat contained and stop them from arguing about what shape to draw and whether or not to write something. You're in the middle of spelling out the word ‘anniversary’ for them when the distinct sound of your wife’s voice steals your attention.

“What's going on in here?”

The speed at which both Charlie and Em move is enough to amaze any speedster in any universe. Hailee just barely manages to brace herself before they both collide into her body.

“We baked you a cake!” Em announces with a smile that looks identical to the one on your wife’s face.

“Is that right?” Hailee’s warm eyes shift between both of the adorable faces staring up at her.

“Yeah, Em and I did all the work! Right, mom?”

You see no point in correcting your very excited child over something so endearing. “Yeah, that's right, bee. And you both did a great job. You didn't even need me here.”

“Of course we needed you!” You prepare yourself for the sweet comment that no doubt follows. “The shelves are too high.”

The sound of Hailee’s laugh softens the blow a little bit. There's nothing quite like the bluntness of a child, something that you've started to learn the hard way.

“Thank you for the cake, my loves.” She leans down to give each of the twins a kiss on their foreheads. “How about you guys go pick what movie you want to watch tonight?”

They immediately run off in the direction of the living room, giving you and Hailee a small moment of peace.

“Happy anniversary, darling,” you say as you make your way toward her. “Did you like your surprise?”

“Let me think about it,” she replies, her voice tinged with a playfulness you've loved and adored since the day you met her. “I loved it, baby. Thank you.”

You wrap your arms around her and pull her toward you once you’re close enough. “Don't thank me, I didn't do anything according to the twins.”

“Try not to sound so bitter, my love.”

“Oh, shut up.” You roll your eyes but the smile on your face makes it clear that you don’t actually mind the joke. “You’re their favorite and you know it.”

“It’s not my fault that they have good taste.”

You’d love to argue with her but you have more important priorities in mind right now. Starting with kissing your gorgeous wife.

You lean in for a short, sweet, kiss, relishing the feeling of her lips against yours after spending most of the day away from each other. She lets out a quiet hum of approval as you kiss and the sound makes your smile grow until you’re forced to pull away.

“I have a gift for you,” you whisper into the space between you.

“y/n-”

“I know, I know.” You give her a quick peck to silence her yearly complaint. “But I saw it and I couldn’t resist.

You reach into your back pocket and pull out a small velvet box. Hailee raises her eyebrow once she sees it. “You’re not going to propose to me again, are you?”

You laugh and shake your head. “No, I think I got it perfect the first time.”

You lift the box up toward her before opening it up to reveal the necklace inside. It’s not anything extravagant, and you honestly worry it’s a little too cheesy, but your wife’s eyes light up at the sight of it just the same.

“Babe…”

“I thought you’d like to have your little bumblebees around all the time,” you explain as your own eyes drift down. The cute charm dangling from the gold chain is of a small beehive with two tiny bees on either side of it. As soon as you saw it, you thought of the twins and you knew Hailee would love it.

The huge smile on her face tells you you were right. “I want to be mad at you for breaking the ‘no gifts’ rule but this is adorable.” She gently takes the necklace out of its holding place and hands it to you. “Help me put it on?”

She turns around and you’re briefly transported back to your first date. Back when you were young and stupid and sure you would only be a tiny speck in Hailee’s dating history. You’ve never been happier to be proven wrong.

You reach out to move her hair out of the way, letting your fingertips graze her soft skin, before clasping the necklace together and letting it rest on her neck. You can’t stop yourself from placing a few kisses along her shoulder and grinning at the sound of her breath catching in her throat. It’s these small moments that make you fall in love all over again.

The brunette seems to read your mind and she lets out a soft whisper. “I love you, y/n.”

“I love you too, Lee.”

The moment is interrupted by the sound of footsteps rapidly approaching you. “Moms, why are you taking so long?”

You respond to the question with one of your own. “Did you guys pick out a movie?”

“We couldn’t decide,” Em says with a tiny pout. “We want mom to pick.”

Hailee couldn’t hold in her proud grin even if she tried. “I think I love you more and more each day.”

All three of you reply with your own words of affection, filling the room with a small chorus of love. You step back from your wife and motion toward the forgotten cake on the counter. "I'll take care of the cake, go help them figure out what to watch."

She nods in response before leading the tiny rascals out of the kitchen and back toward the living room. You admire their retreating forms for a few moments, feeling like the luckiest person in the world.

#hailee steinfeld x reader #hailee steinfeld x female reader #hailee steinfeld x you #hailee steinfeld x y/n #hailee steinfeld fic #hailee steinfeld fluff #hailee steinfeld imagine #hailee steinfeld fanfiction #hailee steinfeld #hawkeye #hawkeye fanfic #mcu #mcu fanfiction #mcu imagine #marvel #wlw #wlw fic #writing

106 notes · View notes

madychi · 2 years

Text

List of ROTTMNT headcanons/rando ideas!

Disaster Twins Edition pt 2!

When sleep deprived Leo and Donnie they crave the others calming presence. They shift around like zombies trying to find the other. When they do it’s cuddle time. If they can’t the curl up on themselves and cry.

Leo, as a red ear slider, is known to aggressively beg for food should he miss a meal or two. Because of this Donnie keeps “Emergency Leo Snacks” ™️ hidden everywhere.

In turn Leo keeps a shallow tray of sand and water in his room for Donnie to pancake and bury himself in when stressed. Leo will feed him while he’s distressing, if only to watch him stretch his head out of the muddy sand.

Both boys can stretch their necks out really long. As turtle tots they often stretched their necks to freak out Splinter.

When the other twin is in trouble the other can tell. Leo gets a tingle on his left arm and Donnie gets a tingle on his right. Donnie has hypothesized that it a result of they’re little adventure conjoined. (A little idea from pt 1 of this.)

They can do a flawless impression of the other. Its something they could do from a young age. This was most definitely used for mischief.

Donnie has Autism. Leo has ADHD. Actually isn’t that just canon..? Eh-

As tots Donnie had to explain to Leo what it was to have sensory overload after an… incident. Leo felt horrible for stressing Donnie out with what was supposed to be a harmless prank. Even if Donnie had to say he forgave him multiple times, Leo vowed to make it up to him.

Hence! Leo’s gift for Donnie’s 9th birthday. It took a lot of bribery and blackmailing to get Splinter to allow it, but it payed off. Leo brought Donnie to a previously unused room in the lair, where he surprised him with his gift. A sensory deprivation tank in a nice dark room that was padded to be sound proof. After Leo explained the gift Donnie couldn’t contain his tears. Donnie didn’t leave that room for a whole week, and would only let Leo in for small talk and food. While he’s too big for the tank now he still likes going there. Its his and Leo’s secret spot now.

While neither Leo nor Donnie would ever admit it aloud, and would have to kill anyone who finds out, their favorite non Lou Jitsu movie… is: Tinkerbell and the Secret of the Wings. They watched it in secret when they were seven and fell in love with it. Donnie dresses as Tinkerbell and Leo dresses as Periwinkle when they watch it. Everyone knows this secret, but don’t dare say anything. Why ruin their little secret?

Hmm… theres an alarming lack of angst. That won’t do!

When the tots first met April Donnie was fascinated with her and was constantly orbiting around her and taking notes. Leo, as most boys do, got jealous. They had their first and only major fight when Leo confronted Donnie. In the end Leo suggested that April was Donnie’s twin now since he wanted to hang out with her so much. While Raph talked to Leo, Mikey had to console Donnie with good ole Doctor Feelings. It didn’t work. Leo ignored Donnie for a whole month, and each time Don tried to talk to Leo only to be shut down it mad his mental state worse and worse. Finally Raph and Mikey had enough and decided to give his brothers a much needed push… their idea of a push was to kidnap them both while they slept and lock them in a metal box until they talked things out. Which wasn’t bad per say. They just forgot to drill breathing holes in it. The near suffocating experience worked though! So yay?

Okay back to fluff!

Sometimes Donnie and Leo like to dress up and pretend to be the other twin. Mikey is the only one who knows. Raph is convinced they’re who they say they are and Splinter has his suspicions but can’t be sure. Mikey only knows because he walked in on them changing once. They bribed him with secret pizza for a lifetime.

Donnie and Leo have and run a Lou Jitsu fan group Discord. They are known for writing the most god tier in character fanfics ever!

After the events of the movie, the Turtles are more widely known and have an online fan community. Donnie and Leo know and keep it hidden from the others. Especially when they see the horrors of… shipping. Despite this they join the fan community for the lolz and watch with popcorn as they each post that the other turtle is better and watch the war start as people debate which turtle is better, hotter, smarter, etc.

Leo and Donnie have a gaming youtube channel where they use vtuber models that are just human versions of themselves. Mikey made the models for them in exchange for favors. They brand themselves as “The Twin Tubers”.

Pt 1: Here Pt 3: Here

#rottmnt leonardo #rottmnt donatello #rottmnt donnie #rottmnt leo #rottmnt headcanons #rottmnt #rottmnt disaster twins #disaster twins #tmnt disaster twins #rottmnt turtle tots #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #turtle tots #everyone liked part one so i did more

1K notes · View notes

aita-blorbos · 1 month

Note

AITA for naming my son Doomed?

A few months ago I gave birth to twin boys. In my culture each child gets two names, one from their mother and one from their father. Usually the father names the child first, and then the mother gets some time to observe them as they get older and pick a name based on what they’re like. With my previous children I’ve taken anywhere between one and ten years to choose a name for them.

The exception to this practice is when, while pregnant or shortly after giving birth, a mother receives a prophetic dream about her child’s future. These dreams are understood to indicate the name the child should receive. This is rare, and it’s never happened to me before, but this time it did, and I had an incredibly disturbing dream about the ultimate fate of one of my boys. Don’t ask me to elaborate, because I won’t. Suffice it to say that it was horrible. I definitely didn’t want to name my son after what it showed me, but I knew I’d be lying if I named him anything else.

Eventually I decided to just let him share his twin brother’s name. I told my husband I was going to call them both Red-haired (this is translated, of course, and it’s a typical sort of name in my culture), but my husband objected vehemently to my giving both twins the same name. It was really none of his business - this name was completely mine to give, and my husband also gets to name each of the boys whatever he chooses. But he kept complaining about it, asking why I wouldn’t give them each their own name. I told him I didn’t want to talk about it - I couldn’t explain why without revealing the dream, and I didn’t want to do that to my husband - but he kept insisting. Finally I thought, you know what, he wins. If he wants to know so badly, let him. He can live with this just like I have to. I know that wasn’t really fair of me, but I was just so tired of keeping this a secret and having my husband act like I was wronging him and my sons, when I was actually just trying to spare them pain.

So I told him, fine, okay, I’ll tell you the second name. I’ve had a dream, and this one’s name is Doomed. Happy now? And my husband decided to react by pretending he misheard me. Since then he’s been calling the second twin Exalted (very similar-sounding to Doomed in our language). And listen, my husband is a linguistics fiend. He’s got an ear for phonemes like you wouldn’t believe. I know he didn’t mishear me. Not that “Exalted” would’ve made any sense with how upset I was, either! I just - I mean, I’m happy to keep calling both boys by the first twin’s name, Red-haired. But neither my husband nor I appreciate dishonesty, so the fact that he’s going this far to pretend the name is something other than what it is - that struck me. Should I have stuck to my guns and refused to reveal the name? Gone further and given the second twin his own, false name? I don’t know if I could have done that, called him by it every day of his life, knowing why I chose it, but - I don’t know. AITA?

#aita #am i the asshole #unreality

41 notes · View notes

wambsgansshoelaces · 3 months

Note

For that prompt list number 9 with greg I think that screams him!

FIFA

Prompt: “She did it!” “No, he did!”

Gregory Hirsch x Reader

summary: a day with greg’s nephews + FIFA shenanigans

okay so I was kind of self indulgent with this one because I play fifa all the time by myself so I was like time to pretend I’m actually playing with someone! anyway I hope you all enjoy this x I lowkey love writing greg please keep requesting him. also the picture??? on my knees

let me know what you think x

p.s. for those who don’t know, FIFA is a football/soccer video game, and a red card gets a player removed from the game

Word Count: 2.600k

You sit with your head pressed into the side of his shoulder, cuddled together on top of a pile of pillows and blankets. You both face the television, Xbox controllers in hand, and you’re watching as Greg spams the slide tackle button as you both play.

“You’re supposed to be learning how to strat, not trying to kill my best player,” you mutter lightheartedly, making your player run in circles so Greg can get the ball.

“Well, based on what you’ve told me, this is one of the best strategies one can employ,” he says back, the beginnings of a laugh lilting in his voice. “I break some knees, I take the red card, and then beat you. Metaphorically, though, because I’d never hit my girlfriend.” Without tearing his gaze from the TV, he plants a kiss to the side of your head.

You know he isn’t wrong. Every FIFA online game you’d ever played in your life had ended the exact same way. Your opponent takes their most useless player, commits a heinous crime on your best one, gets the one player sent off, then beats you by one goal because they killed your goal scorer and you couldn’t score.

“I don’t think that matters, because you’ve stolen the ball from me and then scored on yourself.” You laugh loudly, watching as your team celebrates on the screen.

“Hey, come on, I thought that was where I was supposed to go!”

“You literally passed it to your own keeper then ran into the goal. Come on, Greg, try!”

He sighs, leaning his head to the side so it rests against yours. “But it’s fun like this,” he says happily, sisscor kicking one of your player's legs out from under him.

“What the fuck!” The injury blinker flashes over the player. “What, no card?”

“You mean like an ace of spades? Why would I get one of those?”

You laugh, pausing the game to take out the hurt player. “You asshole. You know what you did.”

“I didn’t do anything!”

“Yes, you did!”

“No, I didn’t!”

“Then why’s my center back not have legs anymore?” you ask, watching the substitution. The player’s legs are glitching in and out of existence.

“That’s not because of me,” he insists. “That’s just bad developing.” He runs around with the ball a bit, the soft clacking of the joycon strangely soothing. “How do I shoot again?”

“Press B.”

You make all of your players run in the opposite direction, clearing the way for Greg. Jankily, he runs up to the goal, and blasts the ball over the crossbar. “I asked for shoot.”

“And I told you to press B, not suffocate it.”

The timer runs out, and you’ve won. “I hate you,” he says, dropping the controller and pulling you into his arms. “This is fun. Please never actually play against me. It’d hurt getting the shit beaten out of me.” He presses a kiss into your hair.

Greg had woken up this morning to a text message saying that his little nephews were going to be dropped off at your place. They’re his sister’s twin children, and his mother was supposed to be taking care of them, but apparently now that falls on you. In the morning, he’d rolled over to face you, phone in hand.

“I don’t know how to handle kids,” he’d said. “I think I rather famously don’t know how to handle kids.”

You were a bit upset that he’d just let his mother do whatever, but that was a conversation for another day. A much deeper, more serious one. You’d reached over, brushed back his hair with your fingers, and reassured him that you’d both do fine.

You power off the Xbox from your own controller before putting it down. “It’s only a game. And it’s only because I’ve been playing for so long.”

With a final kiss to your head, he gets to his feet, wandering into the kitchen. You stay where you are on the floor, smiling to yourself. “Do kids eat cucumbers?”

You get up to follow him, curious as to what he’s doing. After washing the vegetables, he pulls a small knife from the rack and begins cutting. “They’re children, Greg. Not toothless sharks.” He’s worrying himself too much, over thinking. You turn and pull a plate from their designated cabinet and set it next to the cutting board, Greg absentmindedly dumping the newly sliced cucumber bits onto it. “Why’re you so worried?”

He lets the knife lay on the cutting board, turning to face you, instead leaning against the cabinets. “I dunno, Y/N. It’s stupid, but I don’t want anyone to be upset with me. Not even the kids, specifically, but their mom, who’ll tell my mom…”

You frown at him, moving to retrieve a packaged thing of hummus from the fridge. You figure the children would eat the cucumbers by themselves, but if they didn’t, you’re sure you could get them to enjoy the vegetable with hummus. “One, you’re a grown man.” You tear the lid off of the hummus, nabbing a cucumber slice and dipping. “If you didn’t want to, why’d you say yes?” you ask, waving around the cucumber to help emphasize your point. Before he can say anything, you continue. “Two, they’re only here for three hours. We either take them to the park and let them run themselves to exhaustion or we just turn on the TV and be the cool aunt and uncle.” You finally pop the slice into your mouth and chew. “Good hummus.”

You leave him in the kitchen, going to slide onto the couch. The boys were due in the next five minutes. Greg turns so that he can look at you, your kitchen overlooking the living room. “Are you mad?”

You’re stretched out on the couch, scrolling through your phone. “No, I’m not. Why would I be mad?”

“I just feel like you’re upset that all of this is even happening.”

“I mean, kind of. But I’m not mad at you.”

“Okay, so you are upset,” he says, distress seeping in his voice. Before your conversation can continue, and probably turn into an argument, someone’s knocking way too loudly on your door. Greg sighs, and you sit up and watch him disappear into the hall to the front door. “Hey, Aunt- oh, okay. Yeah, we can- okay, uh, can I- oh, bye,” is all you hear before the door clicks shut. There’s an awkward pause, and you can practically hear the gears in Greg’s head grinding. You know his family frustrates him. “Hey, you two. Wanna meet the special girl I told you about?”

Although you were trying to be upset with him, and you knew you’d both need to talk seriously after all of this was over, your heart swells. You get up so that you don’t come off as rude as your boyfriend gently guides the two four-year-olds into the living room. They’re both hiding themselves behind him, one peeking around him to steal a glance at you. You wave, doing your best to seem friendly.

“Hi. What’re your names?” you ask, crouching down to their level. The one peeking leaves Greg, instead scurrying over to you.

He points at himself. “My name’s Ronnie. Ryan’s hiding. Mama says he’s too shy.”

“It’s okay to be shy sometimes.” You offer Ronnie your hand, and he takes it and shakes over enthusiastically. “I’m Y/N. Nice to meet you.”

“You look like a Disney princess,” Ronnie says matter-of-factly. “Just like Uncle Greg said you would!”

You laugh, standing and throwing Greg a look. A blush is creeping up his neck, embarrassment rolling off him in waves. “Do you like cucumbers, Ronnie?”

He practically skips after you into the kitchen, and you find yourself grinning. “Yes! They’re my favorite veggie, like the song they sang in Bubble Guppies!” Ronnie isn’t tall enough to see over the counter, let alone reach, so you hand him the plate. “Always eat at the table,” he says to himself, walking carefully with the plate cupped in his hands to your breakfast table. He climbs into the chair, which looks comically large for him, and looks over at his brother.

Greg’s gotten down on one knee and is speaking quietly to the other twin. The poor boy’s face is pink, and he stares at you apprehensively. Always moving, Ronnie takes a cucumber slice, slides out of the chair, and rushes over to his brother to hand it to him.

“See, Ronnie has a snack for you,” Greg says calmly, rubbing a soothing hand up and down Ryan’s back. “Come on, buddy, what’s wrong?”

Ryan chews slowly on the cucumber, eyes still trained on you. “He doesn’t like people he doesn’t know,” Ronnie supplies loudly. “But, look, she’s nice!”

Ryan doesn’t say anything, instead raising his arms up towards Greg. Even kneeling, he’s much taller than the boy. With a sigh, he hoists Ryan into his arms and gets to his feet. Greg carries him into the living room, so you decide to stay with Ronnie, who climbs right back into the chair and scarfs down the rest of the cucumbers.

“Do you want more?” you ask, laughing. He merely shakes his head, giving you a toothy grin.

“No, thank you! I have to save space for dinner when I get home!” Before you know it, he’s scurried off again, right to his brother. He stops at the next of pillows and blankets you hadn’t bothered to clean up from earlier. He finds the Xbox controller and turns to you. “What’s this?”

You sit yourself down in the pile of fluff, beckoning for Ronnie to sit, too. “It’s so that we can play games on the TV.”

He sinks into a particularly fluffy blanket. “Can I try? Can you help me play?”

“Yeah, sure.” You boot up the Xbox, pulling open FIFA again. “Look, we can play soccer.”

“Uncle Greg, do you know how to play, too?” Ronnie asks, entranced by the graphics on screen as you choose gamemode.

“Not well,” he admits.

“How about you play for Ryan? And Y/N plays for me!”

“I think you’re rigging it for yourself, little guy,” Greg responds, laughing. He nudges Ryan gently. “How about you go get the other controller from the pretty lady for me?”

Hesitantly, Ryan nods and scurries over to you.

“Could I please have the other controller?” he asks quietly, staring right at you. You find it and press it into his hands with a smile. He climbs back onto the couch to sit with Greg.

“I’m gonna win for you, Ronnie, don’t worry. I’ll try super, super hard!” you whisper to him conspiratorially.

He dissolves into a fit of giggles, and you turn your attention to the screen to pick your team. Soon enough, you’re playing the game, tongue caught between your teeth. Greg, sticking to the only strategy he knows, makes every player he has slide tackle on yours.

“Hey, who’s the one who keeps hurting all the players?!” Ronnie asks, distressed. As soon as he asks, one of your players gets bulldozed into the ground, and the red card cut scene plays.

“She did it!” Greg says quickly, tone accusing. Ronnie turns to face you, jaw agape.

“What? No, he did it!” you exclaim, trying not to burst into laughter.

“Don’t listen to her, Ronnie, I’m the red team,” Greg insists.

“You’re the red team? You don’t even know how to pass the ball!” The player in red, currently in possession of the ball, flicks it away from the white-wearing defender, who was admittedly running the wrong direction in the first place.

Greg laughs, the damage already done.

“How could you?!” Ronnie asks.

Ryan, to your delight, lets out a giggle. “Uncle Greg’s not telling the truth! His hands aren’t doing what the red players are.”

“Eat it, Greg,” you say, finally laughing.

When the game ends, you’ve scored on him seven times, and Ronnie squeals. “I won!”

“You’re not very good, Uncle Greg,” Ryan says, coming more out of his shell every minute that passes. You decide to turn off the game, Ronnie expressing his interest in going to the nearby playground. He stumbles over himself going to put on his shoes, Ryan the opposite, calmly and deliberately tying his laces. You attempt to take Greg’s hand as you walk outside, but he pretends like he can’t see and you immediately feel it sting in your chest.

You make it to the playground, you and Greg sitting on a bench to watch his nephews play. It’s not until Ronnie and Ryan are taking turns down the slide does he say anything.

“I’m sorry. That was mean.” He scoots closer to you, actually taking your hand this time. “I’m upset and I’m taking it out on you when I shouldn’t. I’m sorry,” he repeats, looking down at you, voice sincere.

You give his hand a squeeze. “It’s okay.”

“We should probably talk later, right?” he asks meekly. You sigh, feeling bad, and lean over to kiss his cheek.

“I promise I’m not mad or upset with you or anything,” you say first, meaning it. Your thumb strokes the back of his hand absentmindedly, the way you know he likes. “But we should talk. Later,” you add, watching Ronnie run up to you with a handful of mulch, grinning widely.

The boys spend the next hour exhausting themselves, so much so that Greg has Ronnie hoisted in his arms, head buried into his shoulder, eyes fluttering shut. Ryan walks alongside you, holding your hand. As you watch Greg walk in front of you, Ronnie draped over his shoulder, asleep, you feel strangely content.

At home, you watch your boyfriend carefully lower Ronnie onto the couch, giving his stomach an affectionate rub before pulling one of the plush blankets from the floor to drape it over him. Ryan lets you hoist him onto the other side of the couch, so that his legs overlap with Ronnie’s. As Ryan gets settled, Greg runs a soothing hand through the boy’s hair. As soon as his head hits the cushion, Ryan’s asleep, and so is Ronnie.

You’ve sat on the large cloth rocking chair you and Greg had invested in a few months ago. If you’re honest, it’s one of the best purchases you’ve ever made. He comes to join you, squishing in at your side and winding an arm around you.

“I don’t know why you think you’re bad with kids,” you murmur, keeping your voice low as to not wake anyone up. Both your legs are tucked under you, Greg using one of his feet to gently rock the two of you back and forth. “It’s nice watching you with them.”

“I just get worried,” he tells you, “that they’re not getting enough from me.”

“You do more than enough,” you point out. “They obviously love you very much. You take good care of them.”

“Regardless, it’s because you bring out the best in me,” he says into your hair. “I… I still need to do better, though. I should’ve asked you before I agreed to anything.”

Your hand smooths across his stomach. “I’m really not upset or anything.”

“Still.”

“They’re cute. They’re polite. I don’t mind taking care of them.”

He presses a kiss to your scalp. "You know, one day I'll beat you at that stupid game."

"FIFA? In your dreams, Egghead."

He tilts your head up so that he has access to your lips and kisses you gently.

“I love you very much.”

“I love you more.”

#gregory hirsch #greg hirsch #gregory hirsch x reader #greg hirsch x reader #cousin greg #cousin greg x reader #succession #succession hbo #succession fic #wambsgansshoelaces #succession x reader #writing prompt #prompt request #fluff

38 notes · View notes