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Get UK Driving License
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I was thinking about Christina being absent a lot of the time, especially after Sam left, and it raised the question:
How does Tara take care of herself in the years between Sam leaving and coming back? Christina wasn't really present, so who bought groceries and stuff like that? Did Tara have to get a job? She wouldn't have been able to for several years because of her age, so did Christina just give her money every so often?
I imagine that her friends and their families helped out a lot, but at the same time I can't really see Tara accepting too much help (or even telling them to begin with), especially from adults/parents.
What are your thoughts?
I've mentioned here:
By the time their father left, Christina did nothing except drop off an envelope of money on the counter monthly and pay the bills. Sam learns to forge her mother’s signature to sign off on Tara’s medical needs
In my head, Sam leaving doesn't change that; Christina keeps to the routine. She pays the bills and leaves money on the counter.
We do know Tara does have a job at one point, at least the summer before senior year, because that's where she met Liv (and Vince). I imagine she did that to get experience and to start having some freedom of her own - she would have been 19 at that point. And no doubt to begin saving up in case her mother decides to kick her out. She's so unpredictable, Tara never knows what mood she'll be in: the one where she screams at her and calls her a parasite, or the one where she weeps in her arms telling her to never leave her.
I think Tara would have spent a lot of time around friends' houses - she doesn't like to be alone. Martha and Judy are always encouraging their kids to bring Tara around, always trying to look out for her - especially straight after Sam leaves, knowing that her mother wouldn't be around. They could offer her dinner, a sleepover, some snacks - but she won't accept more. No money, no clothes, no help at home. Tara shuts down the slightest hint of that. Judy helps Tara learn to drive, she allows that. She could never afford a car or the insurance, but she appreciates that she took the time to teach her anyway. Hicks feels especially protective of Tara, she could never help Sam. She feels bad that she couldn't intervene early enough to help prevent that descent, too busy trying to help Dewey with his.
#/mp#ask box#Scream#Tara Carpenter#fuck christina carpenter club#-5 year gap#the tags tag#I'm actually assuming America uses a direct debit system like we have in the UK#I actually have no idea how bills and shit works there lmao#I hear you still use cheques for shit? Wild.#Also the way you get your driving license and shit? Insane. What the fuck.#HEYO TIMELINE: we don't seem to have any details of the Dewey timeline between 4 and 5 so here's what I'm going with#Dewey and Gale go to New York right after Scream 4. He sticks it out for a year. A single year. He can't hack it and runs back to Woodsboro#He's a small town boy and she's a city woman. He resumes his role as sheriff. But the guilt leads him to drink.#Sam - 15/16 - begins to transition to harder drugs and more destructive behaviours.#Hicks gets caught between trying to help the both of them. And helping neither.#Sam leaving and Dewey being forced into retirement happen on a pretty similar timescale.
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Predicting the present
If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:
https://pluralistic.net/2024/12/09/radicalized/#deny-defend-depose
Back in 2018, around the time I emailed my immigration lawyer about applying for US citizenship, I started work on a short story called "Radicalized," which eventually became the title story of a collection that came out in 2019:
https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781250228598/radicalized/
"Radicalized" is a story about America, and about guns, and about health care, and about violence. I live in Burbank, which is ranks second in gun-stores-per-capita in the USA, a dubious honor that represents a kind of regulatory arbitrage with our neighboring goliath, the City of Los Angeles, where gun store licensing is extremely tight. If you're an Angeleno in search of a firearm, you're almost certainly coming to Burbank to buy it.
Walking, cycling and driving past more gun stores than I'd ever seen in my Canadian life got me thinking about Americans and guns, a subject that many Canadians have passed comment upon. Americans kill each other, and especially themselves, at rates that baffle everyone else in the world, and they do it with guns. When we moved here, my UK born-and-raised daughter came home from her first elementary school lockdown drill perplexed and worried. Knowing what I did about US gun violence, I understood that while school shootings and other spree killings happened with dismal and terrifying regularity, they only accounted for a small percentage of the gun deaths here. If you die with a bullet in you, the chances are that the finger on the trigger was your own. The next most likely suspect is someone you know. After that, a cop. Getting shot by a stranger out of uniform is something of a rarity here – albeit a spectacular one that captures our imaginations in ways that deliberate or accidental self-slayings and related-party shootings do not.
So I told her, "Look, you can basically ignore everything they tell you during those lockdown drills, because they almost certainly have nothing to do with your future. But if a friend ever says to you, 'Hey, wanna see my dad's gun?' I want you to turn around and leave and get in touch with me right away, that instant."
Guns turn the murderous impulse – which, let's be honest, we've all felt at some time or another – into a murderous act. Same goes for suicide, which explains the high levels of non-accidental self-shootings in the USA: when you've got a gun, the distance between suicidal ideation and your death is the ten feet from the sofa to the gun in the closet.
Americans get angry at people and then, if they have a gun to hand, sometimes they shoot them. In a thread /r/Burbank about how people at our local cinemas are rude and use their phones in which someone posted, "Well, you should just ask them to stop." The reply: "That's a great way to get shot." No one chimed in to say, "Don't be ridiculous, no one would shoot you for asking them to put away their phone during a movie." Same goes for "road rage."
And while Americans shoot people they've only just gotten angry at, they also sometimes plan shooting sprees and kill a bunch of people because they're just generically angry. Being angry about the state of the world is a completely relatable emotion, of course, but the targets of these shootings are arbitrary. Sure sometimes these killings have clear, bigoted targets – mass shootings at Black supermarkets or mosques or synagogues or gay bars – more often the people who get sprayed with bullets (at country and western concerts or elementary schools or movie theaters) are almost certainly not the people the gunman (almost always a man) is angry at.
This line of thought kept surfacing as I went through the immigration process, but not just when I was dealing with immigration paperwork. I was also spending an incredible amount of time dealing with our health insurer, Cigna, who kept refusing treatments my pain doctor – one of the most-cited pain researchers in the country – thought I would benefit from. I've had chronic pain since I was a teenager, and it's only ever gotten worse. I've had decades of pain care in Canada and the UK, and while the treatments never worked for very long, it was never compounded by the kinds of bureaucratic stuff I went through with my US insurer.
The multi-hour phone calls with Cigna that went nowhere would often have me seeing red – literally, a red tinge closing in around my vision – and usually my hands would be shaking by the time I got off the call.
And I had it easy! I wasn't terminally ill, and I certainly wasn't calling in on behalf of a child or a spouse or parent who was seriously ill or dying, whose care was being denied by their insurer. Bernie's 2016 Medicare For All campaign promise had filled the air with statistics (Americans pay more for care and get worse outcomes than anyone else in the rich world), and stories. So many stories – stories that just tore your heart out, about parents who literally had to watch their children die because the insurance they paid for refused to treat their kids. As a dad, I literally couldn't imagine how I'd cope in that situation. Just thinking about it filled me with rage.
One day, as I was swimming in the community pool across the street – a critical part of my pain management strategy – I was struck with a thought: "Why don't these people murder health insurance executives?" Not that I wanted them to. I don't want anyone to kill anyone. But why do American men who murder their wives and the people who cut them off in traffic and random classrooms full of children leave the health insurance industry alone? This is an industry that is practically designed to fill the people who interact with it with uncontrollable rage. I mean, if you're watching your wife or your kid die before your eyes because some millionaire CEO decided to aim for a $10 billion stock buyback this year instead of his customary $9 billion target, wouldn't you feel that kind of murderous rage?
Around this time, my parents came out for a visit from Canada. It was a great trip, until one night, my mom woke me up after midnight: "We have to take your father to the ER. He's really sick." He was: shaking, nauseated, feverish. We raced down the street to the local hospital, part of a gigantic chain that has swallowed nearly all the doctors' practices, labs and hospitals within an hour's drive of here.
Dad had kidney stones, and they'd gone septic. When the ER docs removed the stones, all the septic gunk in his kidneys was flushed into his bloodstream, and he crashed. If he hadn't been in an ER recovery room at the time, he would have died. As it was, he was in a coma for three days and it was touch and go. My brother flew down from Toronto, not sure if this was his last chance to see our dad alive. The nurses and doctors took great care of my dad, though, and three days later, he emerged from his coma, and today, he's better than ever.
But on day two, when we thought he was probably at the end of his life, as my mother sat at his side, holding the hand of her husband of fifty years, someone from the hospital billing department came to her side and said, "Mrs Doctorow, I know this is a difficult time, but I'd like to discuss the matter of your husband's bill with you."
The bill was $176,000. Thankfully, the travel medical insurance plan offered by the Ontario Teachers' Union pension covered it all (I don't suppose anyone gets very angry with them).
How do people tolerate this? Again, not in the sense of "people should commit violent acts in the face of these provocations," but rather, "How is it that in a country filled with both assault rifles and unimaginable acts of murderous cruelty committed by fantastically wealthy corporations, people don't leap from their murderous impulses to their murderous weapons to commit murderous acts?
For me, writing fiction is an accretive process. I can tell that a story is brewing when thoughts start rattling around in my mind, resurfacing at odd times. I think of them as stray atoms, seeking molecules with available docking sites to glom onto. I process all my emotions – but especially my negative ones – through this process, by writing stories and novels. I could tell that something was cooking, but it was missing an ingredient.
Then I found it: an interview with the woman who coined the term "incel." It was on the Reply All podcast, and Alana, a queer Canadian woman explained that she had struggled all her life to find romantic and sexual partnership, and jokingly started referring to herself as "involuntarily celibate," and then, as an "incel":
https://gimletmedia.com/shows/reply-all/76h59o
Alana started a message board where other "incels" could offer each other support, and it was remarkably successful. The incels on Alana's message board helped each other work through the problems that stood between them and love, and when they did, they drifted away from the board to pursue a happier life.
That was the problem, Alana explained. If you're in a support group for people with a drinking problem, the group elders, the ones who've been around forever, are the people who've figured it out and gotten sober. When life seems impossible, those elders step in to tell you, I know it's terrible right now, but it'll get better. I was where you are and I got through it. You will, too. I'm here for you. We all are.
But on Alana's incel board, the old timers were the people who couldn't figure it out. They were the ones for whom mutual support and advice didn't help them figure out what they needed to do in order to find the love they sought. The longer the message board ran, the more it became dominated by people who were convinced that it was hopeless, that love was impossible for the likes of them. When newbies posted in rage and despair, these Great Old Ones were there to feed it: You're right. It will never get better. It only gets worse. There is no hope.
That was the missing piece. My short story Radicalized was born. It's a story about men on a message board called Fuck Cancer Right In the Fucking Face (FCKRFF, or "Fuckriff"), who are watching the people they love the most in the world be murdered by their insurance companies, who egg each other on to spectacular acts of mass violence against health insurance company employees, hospital billing offices, and other targets of their rage. As of today, anyone can read this story for free, courtesy of my publishers at Macmillan, who gave permission for the good folks at The American Prospect to post it:
https://prospect.org/culture/books/2024-12-09-radicalized-cory-doctorow-story-health-care/
I often hear from people about this story, even before an unknown (at the time of writing) man assassinated Brian Thompson, CEO of Unitedhealthcare, the murderous health insurance monopoly that is the largest medical insurer in the USA. Since then, hundreds of people have gotten in touch with me to ask me how I feel about this turn of events, how it feels to have "predicted" this.
I've been thinking about it for a few days now, and I gotta tell you, I have complicated feelings.
You've doubtless seen the outpourings of sarcastic graveyard humor about Thompson's murder. People hate Unitedhealthcare, for good reason, because he personally decided – or approved – countless policies that killed people by cheating them until they died.
Nurses and doctors hate Thompson and United. United kills people, for money. During the most acute phase of the pandemic, the company charged the US government $11,000 for each $8 covid test:
https://pluralistic.net/2020/09/06/137300-pct-markup/#137300-pct-markup
UHC leads the nation in claims denials, with a denial rate of 32% (!!). If you want to understand how the US can spend 20% of its GDP and get the worst health outcomes in the world, just connect the dots between those two facts: the largest health insurer in human history charges the government a 183,300% markup on covid tests and also denies a third of its claims.
UHC is a vertically integrated, murdering health profiteer. They bought Optum, the largest pharmacy benefit manager ("A spreadsheet with political power" -Matt Stoller) in the country. Then they starved Optum of IT investment in order to give more money to their shareholders. Then Optum was hacked by ransomware gang and no one could get their prescriptions for weeks. This killed people:
https://www.economicliberties.us/press-release/malicious-threat-actor-accesses-unitedhealth-groups-monopolistic-data-exchange-harming-patients-and-pharmacists/#
The irony is, Optum is terrible even when it's not hacked. The purpose of Optum is to make you pay more for pharmaceuticals. If that's more than you can afford, you die. Optum – that is, UHC – kills people:
https://pluralistic.net/2024/09/23/shield-of-boringness/#some-men-rob-you-with-a-fountain-pen
Optum isn't the only murderous UHC division. Take Navihealth, an algorithm that United uses to kick people out of their hospital beds even if they're so frail, sick or injured they can't stand or walk. Doctors and nurses routinely watch their gravely ill patients get thrown out of their hospitals. Many die. UHC kills them, for money:
https://prospect.org/health/2024-08-16-steward-bankruptcy-physicians-private-equity/
The patients murdered by Navihealth are on Medicare Advantage. Medicare is the public health care system the USA extends to old people. Medicare Advantage is a privatized system you can swap your Medicare coverage for, and UHC leads the country in Medicare Advantage, blitzing seniors with deceptive ads that trick them into signing up for UHC Medicare Advantage. Seniors who do this lose access to their doctors and specialists, have to pay hundreds or thousands of dollars for their medication, and get hit with $400 surprise bills to use the "free" ambulance service:
https://prospect.org/health/2024-12-05-manhattan-medicare-murder-mystery/
No wonder the public spends 22% more subsidizing Medicare Advantage than they spend on the care for seniors who stick with actual Medicare:
https://theconversation.com/taxpayers-spend-22-more-per-patient-to-support-medicare-advantage-the-private-alternative-to-medicare-that-promised-to-cost-less-241997
It's not just the elderly, it's also the addicted and mentally ill. UHC illegally denies coverage for mental health and substance abuse treatment. Imagine watching a family member spiral out of control, ODing, or ending up on the streets with hallucinations, and knowing that the health insurance company that takes thousands of dollars out of your paycheck refused to treat them:
https://www.startribune.com/unitedhealthcare-will-pay-15-7m-in-settlement-of-denial-of-care-charges/600087607
Unsurprising, the internal culture at UHC is callous beyond belief. How could it not be? How could you go to work at UHC and know you were killing people and not dehumanize those victims? A lawsuit by chronically ill patient whom UHC had denied care for surfaced recorded phone calls in which UHC employees laughed long and hard about the denied claims, dismissing the patient's desperate, tearful pleas as "tantrums" :
https://www.propublica.org/article/unitedhealth-healthcare-insurance-denial-ulcerative-colitis
Those UHC workers are just trying to get by, of course, and the callouses they develop so they can bear to go to work were ripped off by last week's murder. UHC's executive team knows this, and has gone on a rampage to stop employees from leaking their own horror stories, or even mentioning that the internal company announcement of Thompson's death was seen by 16,000 employees, of whom only 28 left a comment:
https://www.kenklippenstein.com/p/unitedhealthcare-tells-employees
Doctors and nurses hate UHC on behalf of their patients, but it's also personal. UHC screws doctor's practices by refusing to pay them, making them chase payments for months or even years, and then it offers them a payday lending service that helps them keep the lights on while they wait to get paid:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=frr4wuvAB6U
Is it any surprise that Reddit's nursing forums are full of nurses making grim, satisfied jokes about the assassination of the $10m/year CEO who ran the $400b/year corporation that does all this?
https://www.thedailybeast.com/leading-medical-subreddit-deletes-thread-on-unitedhealthcare-ceos-murder-after-users-slam-his-record/
We're not supposed to experience – much less express – schadenfreude when someone is murdered in the street, no matter who they are. We're meant to express horror at the idea of political violence, even when that violence only claims a single life, a fraction of the body count UCH produced under Thompson's direction. As Malcolm Harris put it, "'Every life is precious' stuff about a healthcare CEO whose company is noted for denying coverage is pretty silly":
https://twitter.com/BigMeanInternet/status/1864471932386623753
As Woody Guthrie wrote, "Some will rob you with a six-gun/And some with a fountain pen." The weapon is lethal when it's a pistol and when it's an insurance company. The insurance company merely serves as an accountability sink, a layer of indirection that lets a murder happen without any person being the technical murderer:
https://profilebooks.com/work/the-unaccountability-machine/
I don't want people to kill insurance executives, and I don't want insurance executives to kill people. But I am unsurprised that this happened. Indeed, I'm surprised that it took so long. It should not be controversial to note that if you run an institution that makes people furious, they will eventually become furious with you. This is the entire pitch of Thomas Piketty's Capital in the 21st Century: that wealth concentration leads to corruption, which is destabilizing, and in the long run it's cheaper to run a fair society than it is to pay for the guards you'll need to keep the guillotines off your lawn:
https://memex.craphound.com/2014/06/24/thomas-pikettys-capital-in-the-21st-century/
But we've spent the past 40 years running in the other direction, maximizing monopolies, inequality and corruption, and gaslighting the public when they insist that this is monstrous and unfair. Back in 2022, when UHC was buying Change Healthcare – the dominant payment network for hospitals, which would allow UHC to surveil all its competitors' payments – the DOJ sued to block the merger. The Trump-appointed judge in the case, Carl Nichols – who owned tens of thousands of dollars in UHC bonds – ruled against the DOJ, saying that it would all be fine thanks to United's "culture of trust and integrity":
https://www.thebignewsletter.com/p/the-antitrust-shooting-war-has-started
We don't know much about Thompson's killer yet, but he's already becoming a folk hero, with lookalike contests in NYC:
https://twitter.com/CollinRugg/status/1865472577478553976
And gigantic graffiti murals praising him and reproducing the words he wrote on the shell casings of the bullets he used to kill Thompson, "delay, deny, depose":
https://www.tumblr.com/radicalgraff/769193188403675136/killin-fuckin-ceos-freight-graff-in-the-bay
I get why this is distasteful. Thompson is said to have been a "family man" who loved his kids, and I have no reason to disbelieve this. I can only imagine that his wife and kids are shattered by this. Every living person is the apex of a massive project involving dozens, hundreds of people who personally worked to raise, nurture and love them. I wrote about this in my novel Walkaway, as the characters consider whether to execute a mercenary sent to kill them, whom they have taken hostage:
She had parents. People who loved her. Every human was a hyper-dense node of intense emotional and material investment. Speaking meant someone had spent thousands of hours cooing to you. Those lean muscles, the ringing tone of command — their inputs were from all over the world, carefully administered. The merc was more than a person: like a spaceship launch, her existence implied thousands of skilled people, generations of experts, wars, treaties, scholarship and supply-chain management. Every one of them was all that.
But so often, the formula for "folk hero" is "killing + time." The person who terrorizes the people who terrorize you is your hero, and eventually we sanitize the deaths, and just remember them as fighters for justice. If you doubt it, consider the legend of Robin Hood:
https://twitter.com/mcmansionhell/status/1865554985842352501
The health industry is trying to put a lid on this, palpably afraid that – as in my story "Radicalized" – this one murderer will become a folk hero who inspires others to acts of spectacular violence. They're insisting that it's unseemly to gloat about Thompson's death. They're right, but this is an obvious loser strategy. The health industry is full of people whose deaths would be deplorable, but not unsurprising. As Clarence Darrow had it:
I’ve never wished a man dead, but I have read some obituaries with great pleasure.
Murder is never the answer. Murder is not a healthy response to corruption. But it is healthy for people to fear that if they kill people for greed, they will be unsafe. On December 5 – the day after Thompson's killing – the health insurer Anthem announced that it would not pay for anesthesia for medical procedures that ran long. The next day, they retracted the policy, citing "outrage":
https://www.cnn.com/2024/12/05/health/anthem-blue-cross-blue-shield-anesthesia-claim-limits/index.html
Sure, maybe it was their fear of reputation damage that got them to decide to reverse this inhumane, disgusting, murderous policy. But maybe it was also someone in the C-suite thinking about what share of the profits from this policy would have to be spent on additional bodyguards for every Anthem exec if it went into effect, and decided that it was a money-loser after all.
Think about hospital exec Ralph de la Torre, who cheerfully testified to Congress that he'd killed patients in pursuit of profit. De la Torre clearly doesn't fear any kind of consequences for his actions. He owns hospitals that are filled with tens of thousands of bats (he stiffed the exterminators), where none of the elevators work (he stiffed the repair techs), where there's no medicine or blood (he stiffed the suppliers) and where the doctors and nurses can't make rent (he stiffed them too). De La Torre doesn't just own hospitals – he also owns a pair of superyachts:
https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/28/5000-bats/#charnel-house
It is a miracle that so many people have lost their mothers, sons, wives and husbands so Ralph de la Torre could buy himself another superyacht, and that those people live in a country where you can buy an assault rifle, and that Ralph de la Torre isn't forced to live in a bunker and travel in a tank.
It's a rather beautiful sort of miracle, to be honest. I like to think that it comes from a widespread belief by the people of this country I have since become a citizen of, that we should solve our problems politically, rather than with bullets.
But the assassination of Brian Thompson is a wake-up call, a warning that if we don't solve this problem politically, we may not have a choice about whether it's solved with violence. As a character in "Radicalized" says, "They say violence never solves anything, but to quote The Onion: that's only true so long as you ignore all of human history":
https://prospect.org/culture/books/2024-12-09-radicalized-cory-doctorow-story-health-care/
#pluralistic#unitedhealthcare#assassination#execution#violence#murder#science fiction#radicalized#health insurance#m4a#medicare for all#Brian Thompson#guns#cancer#corruption#usausausa#torment nexus
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so american
wanda maximoff x fem!reader
summary: in which you struggle with the aftermath of your relationship with natasha, but wanda never fails to help you through it all.
or, the one based off so american by olivia rodrigo.
word count: 11,499
tags: fluff, angst, natasha being a bitch in one scene, this was supposed to be completely fluffy but then i added angst and ended up loving it, they're mostly just two idiots in love, reader gets insecure a couple times, wanda's so in love, everyone say thank you to olivia rodrigo for fuelling all my fic ideas
part one: enough for you
“Why do Americans drive on the right side of the road,” Wanda grumbles as she sits behind the wheel, driving the two of you to your favorite road trip destination, your family’s cottage in Nevada.
You laugh, kissing her cheek. “Baby, Sokovians do too.”
“Well, yeah, but that doesn’t mean I’m happy about it,” Wanda mutters, cursing under her breath when another right-hand turn takes her by surprise.
“I think that’s what you get for getting your license in the UK, Wanda,” you tease. “Now you’re all grumpy, and angry, and that milkshake we shared a couple of hours ago definitely didn’t help–”
Wanda gives you a look and you give a cheeky smile in return.
“For the record,” she replies, looking at the road once more. “I didn’t have a choice. I was on a recon mission with Steve, and he told me I couldn’t rely on my powers for transportation all the time.”
“Well, I think your powers are hot, though.”
Wanda laughs. “Thanks, detka.”
“Jesus, I’m cold,” you mutter as goosebumps start to form on your skin.
Wanda immediately turns down the AC in the car, and you reach into the back for the first piece of outerwear you can find. As you pull your hand back to your body, you realize it’s Wanda’s navy blue hoodie, your favorite piece of clothing of hers. Smiling, you pull it over your head, comforted by the scent of her that enraptures your senses.
Sighing in satisfaction, you lean your head back into your chair, feeling so much more content than you did a year ago.
Wanda notices you out of the corner of her eye, and softly says, “You look so pretty wearing my clothes.”
You smile at her, and Wanda takes your hand in return, as she keeps her other on the wheel, intertwining your fingers together.
“You’re so warm,” you whisper, feeling so so loved.
Wanda squeezes your hand tighter.
***
Wanda’s laugh is the most beautiful sound in the world, you realized the first day you met her.
You had been sitting and talking the entire morning, Wanda’s smile awakening the constant butterflies in your stomach and setting your heart alive.
“So,” Wanda rests her chin onto her hand and leans onto her elbow. “What profession are you in?”
You smile, “I’m an oncologist, but I much prefer the research aspect of things. I find it thrilling.”
Wanda scrunches her nose. “You find spending countless hours in front of your computer and in a lab thrilling?”
You laugh. “Sure do. What about you? What profession are you in?”
“I’m an Avenger, but I work part-time as an English professor at a local university,” Wanda replies, and before you can compliment her on her work as a superhero, she asks another question, still curious about your job. “Why oncology, though?” she asks with her shiny eyes ever so inquisitive.
“My mom died of cancer when I was 8,” you look into your coffee cup, staring at the liquid as you pop the lid off. “You can probably figure out the rest,” you give a small smile.
Wanda frowns. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be, it was a long time ago. I’ve made peace with it, honestly.”
“That’s really amazing though,” Wanda says, struck by how beautiful you were on the outside and inside.
You blush. “Thanks.” Feeling overwhelmed by everything Wanda was making you feel you decide to tell a joke. “Hey, what do you call an apology written in dots and dashes?”
Wanda tilts her head curiously. “What?”
“Re-morse code,” you give a small smile.
Wanda takes a second to process it, but once she does, a huge grin makes its way on her face and she’s laughing.
She’s laughing, and you want to keep hearing it for the rest of your life.
Once she’s done, she looks at you with a shake of her head. “That was awful.”
You shrug. “Made you laugh, though.”
“You did,” Wanda nods. “And something tells me you’ll keep making me laugh.”
You blush, people had never really found you funny. Nat didn’t especially.
But here Wanda was, with her comforting smile that made you feel like you were on fire, and her soft green eyes that made you feel safe, cared for, and loved already.
Who made you feel like you were funny for the first time in your life.
***
“Here we are,” Wanda says, stepping out of the car and slamming the door shut.
You sigh contently, so incredibly happy compared to the dark place you were at two years ago. Sometimes, you still felt the weight of how unloved you had felt. Of how you never felt good enough, never felt worthy of someone caring for you. And every time you ran back into your thoughts, Wanda was there to pull you out of your head and reassure you that you deserved the world. Telling you that she would do her best to give it to you.
It all felt surreal. Gently, you hear Wanda open the car door to the passenger side. The simple action made your heart flutter. “Ready, detka?” she says, smiling at you.
Nodding, you exit the car, planting a kiss on her lips before she shuts the door.
Putting her sunglasses on, she comments, “You know, you’re pretty American for having a cottage. With the beach, and everything.”
“Is that supposed to be a compliment?” you ask.
“Yep, because you’re an adorable American,” she smiles, kissing you quickly.
It wasn’t fair of her, to make you feel this much.
***
Wanda’s on a mission in Russia, and you miss her desperately. You found yourself struggling whenever you were alone, still grappling with the feelings of whether you were enough from two years ago. Your rock was all the way on another continent, too far to reassure you of the constant echoes of awful thoughts that rang in your head.
“Can I go with you?” you had asked as you sat on Wanda’s bed while she packed the night before with you.
Wanda kisses your lips. “As much as I would love that, detka, I want you to be safe,” she rubs your arm.
“I’m gonna miss you,” you say quietly.
Wanda frowns. “I know, baby, I’m gonna miss you too. So much.”
You nod, and as you sit quietly on her bed, Wanda can tell your head is somewhere else.
Grabbing your hand softly, Wanda sits in front of you, staring into your eyes. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing,” you look away.
Kissing your forehead gently, Wanda pulls back with encouraging and comforting eyes. “I love you,” she says softly.
And it’s all you need, because it’s the most delicate, soft, unspoken gesture you’ve ever heard. One that screams that she cares, that she won’t leave you, that she won’t hurt you, and that she truly honestly loves you with all her heart and you can feel it radiating off of her.
Wanda Maximoff made you feel like you were the most important person in the world to her.
Little did you know, you truly were, and to confirm it Wanda had a ring in her back pocket which she bought a week after she started dating you with her at all times.
“I love you too,” you reply, giving her a small smile. “I just want to be anywhere you are,” you confess as you start blushing timidly.
“Oh? That’s cute,” Wanda teases.
“Shut up,” you groan, hiding your face in the crook of her neck.
Wanda laughs, kissing your temple. “I do too, detka.”
“Really?” you pull your head away to meet her gaze.
“Of course,” Wanda smiles. “Being with you is my favorite thing in the world. Why wouldn’t I want it all the time?”
You blush furiously. “You know, if you keep this up–”
“What?” she asks gently.
I might just marry you. You think, oblivious to the fact that Wanda’s already had the thought countless times.
You shake your head with a smile.
***
When Wanda’s on her mission, she buys a small chocolate chip cookie keychain that reminds her of you. They were your favorite food, and every Sunday, Wanda made sure to bake a fresh batch for the week so you never had to run out of one of your favorite things.
And when she gets back, only seconds after she puts her bags down she feels her arms fill with you and her heart becomes so much bigger than it was before. She kisses you deeply, smiling to herself at the person she loves in her arms.
Whispering against your lips, she pulls the keychain out of her left back pocket, her right one carrying the ring she’s planning on proposing to you with. “I bought this for you,” she tells you, letting it dangle off of her index finger by the silver ring that she later finds out gets attached to the zipper of your favorite backpack.
And God, Wanda would be a fool not to be eternally charmed by the way your eyes light up with joy once you see it, the happy tears in your eyes making her want to hug you so tightly and never ever let go. “I love it,” you reply, grabbing it softly as if it’s made of the most delicate china. “I love you,” you kiss her lips.
Wanda shakes her head. “So American,” she teases, referring to your love for chocolate chip cookies.
“Yeah, but I’m your American,” you reply cheekily.
Wanda nods, kissing you once more. “My beautiful, perfect, so American girlfriend.”
Wanda feels her heart skip a beat when you blush all over.
***
You’re crying. You’re crying because you saw Natasha for the first time since the two of you broke up, and her words don’t hurt any less than they did when the two of you were dating. Natasha had just seen you and Wanda, wrapped up in each other’s arms, admiring one another at Tony’s enormous birthday party.
Once Wanda had left to go let Pietro in, who had run back all the way from Australia where he was taking a break from the superhero life, Natasha had come up to you. Ready to poison your world with her venomous tongue.
“You know, she’ll get sick of you,” Natasha had snapped you out of your thoughts as you stared at the door where Wanda had just left.
“What?” you reply as you turn to face her on the leather stool. Her calculating and judging eyes causing you to gulp. Even now, you still felt her hurtful words ring the bells of your insecurities back to life.
“She’ll get sick of you,” Nat repeats. “I mean, why do you think we broke up? You’re boring, you’re rude, and you’re obsessive. All my friends told me about how you couldn’t shut up about me when we were together. I mean, clingy much?”
“I didn’t mean–” you try.
Nat scoffs. “Yeah, whatever.” She takes a sip of her drink.
You feel the need to apologize, for you never meant to make Nat feel suffocated that way, when suddenly a brunette witch is making her way over to you. And she looks like she’s about to rain down hellfire on Natasha.
“Excuse me.” Wanda’s eyes narrow as she wraps an arm around your shoulder. “I believe she’s my girlfriend, Natasha.”
“Just warning her.” Natasha shrugs. “And you.”
You stare at the spot on your lap, deciding on whether or not to blink away the tears in your eyes or cry, because ever since you dated Natasha you had learned how to cry silently so you wouldn’t bother her.
Wanda raises an eyebrow, and her accent comes out thicker than ever before, “And what would you be warning me about?”
“Of her,” Natasha shrugs.
Wanda’s eyes go red before she calms down, and her arm around you tightens in the most gentle way somehow. “I’ll give you five seconds to leave us alone.”
“You’re gonna regret this, Wanda,” Natasha says.
“The only person with regret is you, for never treating her the way she deserves to be treated,” Wanda replies sharply.
Natasha scoffs, turning around. “As if she deserves anything.”
Suddenly, Natasha’s glass explodes in her hands, ‘causing everyone in the party to look her way. You can tell it was Wanda based on the way you saw a spark of red flash in her hands briefly.
Natasha turns and narrows her eyes venomously at Wanda, before stalking off to go clean the cut that’s very visible on her hand.
You’re still staring at the same spot on your lap when Wanda turns to face you, cupping your cheeks in her hands as she looks at you.
“Are you alright, milaya?” she asks, the heartbroken expression on your face making her heart drop to her stomach. You didn’t deserve this. You didn’t deserve this at all.
“Do you hate me?” you whisper brokenly, the tears finally escaping your eyes as you can no longer keep them at bay.
“No, baby, no,” Wanda wipes the tears running down your cheeks with her thumbs. “I could never, ever, hate you.”
“What did I do to make her hate me so much? What’s wrong with me?” you ask with a sob.
“Nothing,” Wanda feels her own tears build up behind her eyes. “Nothing is wrong with you, baby, you’re the most amazing human being I know.”
And Wanda’s heart breaks even more, as you cry more and more, silently.
Somehow, it’s even more heartbreaking than if you were to ever make a sound.
You cry even more as you replay tonight’s events in your head, still in the navy blue dress Wanda had picked for you for the party, telling you how pretty you looked once she saw you in it. You felt so wrong, like you didn’t deserve any of what Wanda was giving you, like she would get sick of you the same way Natasha did. Because maybe Natasha was right, maybe you didn’t deserve anything. Because if you did deserve anything, then why would Natasha treat you so awfully, why would your mom have left you as a child and why would your brother leave you too, so overridden with the pain of the lack of your mom that he couldn’t bear to watch you, leaving you with your abusive father who reeked of alcohol every night.
The thoughts sicken you, because your mother never ever meant to have cancer. And it wasn’t your brother’s fault that he couldn’t handle a life without your beautiful, loving mother in it. And it wasn’t your father’s fault either that he had a drinking problem.
Maybe it was all your fault.
You hear the knock on your door, and you can tell by the pattern that it’s Wanda. “Detka, can I come in?” she says gently from the other side of the door.
Quietly, you get up from your bed, turning the doorknob, and opening the door. The motions feel unnatural to you, like you’re some stranger who’s been playing the role of having a loving girlfriend, but your world was shattered earlier and you don’t know who you are anymore. You don’t know if you deserve anything anymore.
“Oh, baby,” Wanda says heartbroken as she wraps you in a tight hug.
This was your fault, seeing the sad look in her eyes you realize that you hurt Wanda.
You hurt the one person in your life whom you never meant to hurt.
It was all your fault.
You hug her back, because maybe if you hug her back it would make her feel better and it would be less of your fault.
Wanda tightens her grip on you, wanting to convey how much she loves you. Wanting to convey how much you didn’t deserve any of this. Wanting to wordlessly tell you that despite all the pain you’ve been through you handle it with so much grace, and you’re the most beautiful person Wanda’s ever met in her life.
But Wanda can tell that you’re not okay, that your mind is somewhere else–
Then she hears you sob. And it’s the first sound of a cry that Wanda’s ever heard from you.
And Wanda can feel the tears fall onto her shoulder and she holds you tighter, she holds you tighter and tighter until Natasha’s hurtful words are overrun by Wanda’s overwhelming love she feels for you.
Wanda can only hope you understand what she’s saying.
And once you’re done crying at 3 in the morning, she keeps hoping.
***
Wanda’s worried about you, ever since Nat had spoken to you at the party you had been more quiet. More reserved. Like your mind was somewhere else.
“Baby?” she asks one morning when you’re both alone in the compound and Wanda wants to cook you breakfast.
“Yeah?” you ask, staring absentmindedly at the sitcom running on the TV.
You were ecstatic when the first day Wanda met you, you had both found out about your shared love for sitcoms.
But Wanda watches you know, the complete lack of interest in Malcolm in the Middle worrying her because it was your favorite sitcom of them all and typically you would have a completely enraptured look in your eye. The same one Wanda was lucky enough to receive from you.
Frowning, Wanda pauses in her cooking, turning the heat off the stove and coming over to meet you on the couch.
You don’t register when Wanda sits down next to you, still lost in your thoughts as she gently grabs your hand.
“What’s going on?” she asks softly, running her thumb over the back of your hand.
“Nothing,” you reply, sitting up slightly.
“Detka, I know you’re not okay. And you don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to, but just know that I care about you, ok?” Wanda kisses your forehead gently. “I’m always here if you need me.”
You frown, feeling so guilty that you were making Wanda worried about you. You couldn’t pretend to be okay, and now you’ve hurt her even more. How long until she gets sick of you? How long until she gets sick of the feelings you give her?
“How long–” your voice breaks. “How long until you get sick of me?”
“What?” Wanda asks, dumbfounded.
“I keep making you worry, keep making you need to constantly reassure me, and it must be so tiring for you, so,” you shut your eyes tightly. “How long until you don’t want me anymore?”
Wanda’s heart breaks. “Never,” she breathes out. “I could never stop wanting you, even if I tried.” Wanda squeezes your hand tightly. “And I would never want to try.”
“But I’m–” you bite your lip to stop a cry from coming out. “I’m so much to deal with, and I’m not even that interesting, and it would be so much easier for you to date someone who’s actually worthy of how amazing you are–”
Wanda cuts you off with a kiss. Cupping your cheek, she states, “You are so worthy of love, Y/N.”
You stay silent, staring back at her green eyes and feeling them pull you out of toxic puddle that was your thoughts like they always did.
“Loving you is the greatest gift the world has ever given me,” Wanda says, rubbing her thumb against your cheek. “And I could never get sick of you. You are the most incredible thing to ever exist, and loving you, for me, is like breathing. It’s the easiest thing in the world, and it’s everywhere.”
“I just feel like I’m putting you through a lot,” you say quietly.
“You’re not,” Wanda shakes her head. “You’re actually making everything I go through easier than it’s ever been.”
“I’m sorry,” you say.
“Sorry for what?” Wanda asks. “This is everything I love about you.”
You laugh. “You like when I start crying and get insecure?”
“I like every part of you. And if you need me to calm you down every single day, I’ll do it in a heartbeat,” Wanda replies, and you smile slightly at her. “But I do hate seeing you cry.” She frowns.
You scoff. “I hate feeling like this,” you mutter.
“And I hate Natasha for making you feel like this,” Wanda pulls you into her side and you tuck your head into her shoulder, closing your eyes.
“I don’t think it was just her,” you say softly. “I think it was a buildup of everything, and Nat just amped it up more. I never really worked through how much that relationship affected me before jumping into one with you.”
Wanda nods. “Do you want me to give you some space for you to figure it out?”
You shake your head, wrapping your arms around her waist. “I never want–” you stop yourself, worrying she’ll find you too clingy as Nat’s words ring in your head again. Space from you.
Wanda doesn’t mean to, but your thoughts echo so loudly in your head that she can’t help but hear them. And she wants to kill Natasha all over again. “What did Natasha say to you at the party?” she asks quietly.
“Um,” you grapple with your feelings as you relive that night, when Nat made all of your feelings of inadequacy come alive once more. Wanda frowns, rubbing her palm against your side to calm you down. “She said, that–, that you would get sick of me eventually. That I’m boring. And rude. And,” you swallow past the lump in your throat. “Too clingy.”
“What a bitch,” Wanda mutters.
“Do you think she’s right?” you ask Wanda, squeezing her waist tighter as your fears that Wanda will get sick of you come alive, and these are your last few moments with the person who lit up your entire world.
“No, baby, she’s so so wrong,” Wanda replies, her eyes turning red before she looks down at you and frowns as she sees your eyes squeezed tightly shut.
“The clingy one hurts me the most,” you whisper. “All I wanted was to love her and for her to love me back. But maybe I’m too much.”
You recall all the times you memorized her new coffee order every few months, the countless hours you had spent re-reading her self-help books, memorizing every fact, listening to all of her favorite songs from the information you had gathered about her. And the way you felt so proud to be Natasha’s girlfriend, the greatest assassin in the world and she chose you to be her partner. How could you have not talked about her?
Maybe it was too much?
“I think you’re the most amazing person in the world,” Wanda says, as her powers run amok once more and she sees all the lovely gestures you had done for Natasha. “I think Nat was an idiot for not seeing how kind and loving you are. And you are never too much.”
You look up at Wanda as she looks down at you with a small smile. Kissing your forehead softly, she says, “You’re not boring. And you’re not rude. In fact, you’re the most interesting person I’ve ever met, as well as the kindest. And if someone is lucky enough to be loved by you, they should realize how rare it is to find someone as incredible as you.”
You shake your head softly in disbelief. “How do you do it?” you ask.
“Do what?”
“Make me feel like I’m actually worthy of being loved.”
Wanda kisses you deeply this time.
“You are, I’m just the one who helps you see it.”
Later that night, Wanda hears you on the phone with one of your oncology friends, and she hears you talk about her. How amazing she is, and how lucky you are to have her. And when she sees you flop back onto the bed through the crack of your door, an elated expression on your face, as you speak dreamily about the way Wanda dresses and the books she reads, Wanda thinks that you’re the greatest thing the world has ever created. And she knows it’s true.
***
“Baby?” you say, turning to face Wanda in the dark in your bed. Wanda has her arm over your side, and she hums groggily as she was about to fall asleep.
“What’s going on?” she asks, her voice still heavy with sleep.
“Nothing,” you say quickly, before slowly saying, “It’s just, I really, really, love you.”
Wanda smiles. “You woke me up to say that?”
“I didn’t know you were basically asleep,” you reply guiltily. “Guess the mission wore you out more than a night-shift wears me out. Sorry.”
Wanda kisses you. “Don’t be, you’re adorable.”
“Can I tell you something?”
“Of course, milaya.”
“It’s really hard to sleep when you’re next to me,” you confess.
Wanda grins into the dark. “Oh, yeah? Is it because I’m so attractive?”
You laugh. “Yes,” you reply, and Wanda’s grin turns smug. “But it’s also because it’s so surreal that I’m with you, at all. And it’s even more surreal that you’re in my bed with me, cuddling me, and you’re so warm and soft and it just makes me want to–”
Wanda cuts you off with a kiss.
God, she was so in love with you.
You grin sheepishly, “Sorry.”
Wanda rolls her eyes. “Stop apologizing, detka.”
“Okay,” you nod.
“Feel better?” Wanda asks, and you understand her question. It’s been a month since Nat confronted you at the party, and moments like this were a big step for you in coming to terms with yourself overall.
“Much,” you reply. “Especially because you’re here.”
Wanda smiles. “I’m glad.”
Wanda’s heart swells when she cuddles you once more, and you hold her hand that’s around your middle as tightly as you can. She feels an overwhelming love for you, and she thinks about the ring in her desk drawer back in her room.
***
Wanda’s laughing at your joke on the couch. Wanda’s the only one who has ever laughed at your jokes, and it makes you feel so much lighter than ever before, while also making you fall deeper and deeper in love with the woman you’re lucky enough to call your girlfriend.
“You know, you’re the only person who’s ever laughed at my jokes,” you say.
Wanda smiles. “Well, then everyone else doesn’t have as sophisticated sense of humor as we do.”
You give her an incredulous look. “The first day I met you, you laughed at a stupid pun I made.”
“Exactly,” Wanda shrugs. “Sophisticated.”
You shake your head with a smile, taking a sip of your tea as your heart feels bigger and more full than you ever thought possible.
And Wanda watches you, awestruck at your striking beauty that she struggles to believe is reality.
***
Wanda’s sick. Wanda’s sick and you’re worried because your girlfriend is in pain and you don’t want her to be.
When you came in this morning back from your shift in the hospital, excited to see her, your heart had dropped at seeing her pained expression in bed, her voice croaky and her brows furrowed as she battled the feeling of nausea that overcame her. Not to mention her shivers as her high fever caused her even more misery.
You sat down on the edge of her bed, softly brushing away the strands of hair that stuck to her forehead due to her high temperature, ‘causing Wanda to stir eventually.
Slowly opening her eyes, her eyes lit up as she greeted you with a soft smile. “Hi,” she whispered.
Frowning, you put the back of your hand against her forehead. “Baby, you’re warm,” you told her, suddenly very worried.
“I’m fine,” Wanda replied, trying to sit up but letting out a groan. “I’m not fine,” she joked, as you helped her lay back down.
“Stay here, I’ll go get you some medicine,” you said, kissing her forehead quickly before heading to the cabinets full of medicine in the bathroom.
“Don’t take too long, Dr. L/N,” Wanda said sleepily as she shut her eyes once more, trying her best to fight her exhaustion so she would still be awake when you came back.
Shaking your head with a smile, you searched through the cabinets to find the proper medication to give her, already planning how you were going to take care of her the rest of the day and for as long as she needed you while she combatted her illness. Despite your worry, you were grateful that you were finally able to take care of your girlfriend, the same way she did to you every single day.
Wanda’s condition had subsided slightly, particularly her fever which had gone down quite a bit, but she was still feeling most of the effects of the sickness.
“Wands,” you say softly, putting the bowl of soup on her nightstand as you kneel down on her side to wake her up gently with a kiss on her cheek.
Wanda wakes from her slumber with a groan, still slightly disoriented causing you to frown.
“Is your fever back?” you ask, putting the back of your hand on her forehead like you had done previously this morning. It wasn’t as hot as before, calming your worry a bit.
Wanda shakes her head before resting it on your shoulder, letting out a sigh. “You’re so good,” she says, turning her head to kiss your neck gently.
“Good at what?” you say with a laugh.
“Just good,” she says contently, relaxing in your presence.
“I made you some soup,” you tell her, kissing her temple as she hums.
“I don’t want it,” she says, muffled by your shirt.
“I’ll stay with you if you have a couple bites,” you offer.
Wanda removes her head from your shoulder and raises a brow. “You were going to stay with me anyways,” she says matter-of-factly, trying her best to appear intimidating.
You smile at her cute expression. Wanda could never be intimidating, especially now when her hair was slightly tousled from her pillow and she was wearing an old T-shirt of yours that was full of wrinkles from her time in bed.
She was about as intimidating as a baby sea otter.
“Not anymore,” you shrug, ‘causing Wanda to narrow her eyes slightly.
“Well, you better,” she retorts, crossing her arms over her chest. “Otherwise I’m never getting over this fever.”
You smile once more.
“You know, you’re really cute when you’re sick.”
“You’re insufferable when I’m sick.”
You laugh, “Please, will you have some soup?”
“Only if you cuddle with me when I’m better.”
“I’ll cuddle you right now if you eat a couple spoonfuls,” you say. “I’ll even feed you.”
“I don’t want to get you sick,” Wanda says before her eyes narrow at you once more. “Also, I’m not a child.”
“I got my flu shot last month,” you tell her, reassuring her worries. “And you’re kinda acting like one,” you tease, before kissing her forehead. “But it’s really cute.”
Finally, Wanda relents. “Fine, I’ll have some soup.”
“Thank you, love.”
You grab the soup from the nightstand and hand it to her, and as she eats you rest your head on her shoulder, one of Wanda’s top 3 favorite ways to be next to you.
She eats about half before she’s full, and you tell her you’re proud of her before heading off to the kitchen to put the bowl away.
However, as you get up from her bed, Wanda stops you by grabbing your wrist.
“Where are you going?” she asks, sitting up slightly as she was already laying back down with the blankets tucked under her chin.
“To put the bowl away,” you respond gently. “Keeping it in your room might make it start to smell like chicken noodle.”
Wanda scrunches her nose, accepting your answer quickly making you laugh.
But as you’re about to leave, you see Wanda watching you, staying sitting up and you can tell that it’s because she wants to wait for you to come back.
Making your way back over, you gently tell her, “Go back to sleep,” you brush a strand of hair away from her eyes and tuck it behind her ear. “You’re nauseated again, I can tell.”
“Will you be here when I wake up?” she asks.
“Of course,” you kiss the tip of her nose.
And when she lies back down, groggily croaking out the words, “so american,” most likely commenting on the chicken noodle soup, you smile, you smile because you know that’s Wanda’s way of saying she loves you.
But to Wanda, it’s also her way of saying she wants to marry you.
***
“This isn’t fair,” you pout as Wanda beats you in Mario Kart once again.
She had been better for about a week, and she was back to herself which you were ecstatic about.
“Baby, how is this not fair,” she laughs.
“You’re way better than me! You had all those years where you played against Pietro, who’s unbeatable, and I only learned ‘cause Sam forced me to when no one else was available!” You cross your arms over your chest.
Wanda smiles at the cute pout on your face before kissing you softly, and your expression eases up a bit.
“We can play something else if you want,” she offers, pecking your lips once more.
“Can I just cuddle you?” you ask, suddenly feeling very shy.
“You don’t even have to ask,” Wanda says, opening her arms for you to lay down on her, as she leans back against the pillow of the couch, your head resting on her chest as you’re comforted by the sound of her heartbeat.
You wrap your arms around her waist as she grabs the blanket from the other side of the couch, and pulls it over the two of you, making sure you’re completely covered from the neck down before she tightens her arms around you.
“I love you,” you say softly, closing your eyes as you relax to the feeling of Wanda stroking your hair gently as you lay on her chest.
“I love you too, detka. So much,” she says, watching as sleep starts to overcome you due to how exhausted you were from being on call for the past two weeks.
“You know, it’s really not fair,” you mutter sleepily.
“What, me winning over 10 times in a row on the Wii?” she laughs.
“No,” you shake your head. “It’s not fair of you to make me feel this much.”
Wanda responds by kissing your forehead gently, and you burrow deeper into her chest as you fall into a deep slumber.
Wanda smiles, content and so so happy as she watches you, feeling the weight of the ring in her back pocket.
***
It was your one year anniversary, and Wanda had planned a small weekend getaway for the two of you as you had been exhausted due to a bunch of new projects you were taking on.
Wanda was so proud of you, but a lot of the time she felt worried because of how heavy of a workload you were taking on.
You were planning on coming over later tonight, as you had to work extra hours in the hospital.
So, to make you feel better and to let you know about your vacation Wanda made sure wouldn’t interfere with your schedule, she had spent all day cooking you a wonderful 3-course meal which consisted of all of your favorite foods. As well as a large batch of chocolate chip cookies that would last you a solid month so long as you put them in the freezer.
She smiled at the thought of you as she rolled out the homemade pasta she was making you, how you had turned her world upside down as she navigated the unfamiliar territory of being the newest and youngest Avenger, just having you made her feel like she was so much better than before, and Wanda fell so so deeply in love with you and she never wanted to stop.
She wanted to give you the world.
She thought about how kind you were, how you cared so deeply for everyone, always stopping to help wherever and whenever you could. Wanda felt so special to be the partner of someone so undeniably incredible.
Suddenly, the oven beeps, snapping her out of her thoughts as she pulls out the chicken to go along with your pasta, the appetizer of calamari already prepared as it layed on a wire rack, as well as the chocolate chip cookies which she had prepared earlier in the day to make sure she had time to make enough.
Once she finished up, she plated the table for the two of you as she had kicked everyone out for her special dinner with you, wanting you all to herself. She smiled as she lit the candles and set up the plates along with the knives and forks, laying the plate of calamari in the middle as she kept her entree and dessert a secret from you.
Hearing her phone go off, she grins once she sees that you’ve texted that you’ve just arrived.
Taking her apron off as quickly as possible, she rushes downstairs to open the door for you, exhilarated at the thought of seeing you.
Swinging the door open, you smile softly at her while she grins, bursting forward to wrap you in a tight hug.
“Hi,” you laugh, wrapping your arms around her. “Happy anniversary.”
“Can you take a break from doctoring once in a while?” she mutters into your neck.
“I wish,” you say, wrapping your arms tighter around her.
Once she lets go, she grabs your hand to pull you upstairs, excited to surprise you.
“Wanda, what’s the rush?” you ask as you make your way up the stairs.
“I missed you too much, come on!” she says, making you laugh.
Once you finally make it to the top floor, Wanda stops you from walking any further. “Close your eyes,” she says.
You shoot her a look.
“Trust me,” she says, pecking your lips quickly.
Closing your eyes, you say, “What now?”
“Okay, I’m gonna guide you,” she says excitedly as she stands behind you, starting to lead you to the dining room table.
“This is not how I expected our anniversary to go.”
“Just trust me,” Wanda says.
Nodding, you continue to walk in the direction Wanda guides you before she stops you in place.
“Okay, ready?” she says and you nod. “Three, two, one, open your eyes!”
You open your eyes, and they widen in shock as you see the most beautiful candlelit dinner you’ve ever seen in your life.
Wanda has swapped out the regular dining room table for a round one covered in a shiny white tablecloth, as well as swapped out the regular wooden chairs for more expensive looking ones that match the elegance of the table. The plates and utensils are arranged perfectly, along with the restaurant quality napkins that were beautifully folded so they were standing upright, absolutely nothing was out of place, and the calamari in the middle was cooked to perfection, the smell wafting towards you no doubt making you hungry.
It looked like Wanda had taken the appearance of a michelin star restaurant and copied it to perfection right here in the Avengers compound.
But what was even more unbelievable was the string of lights she had arranged all throughout the room, from every nook and cranny, the lights brought a hope to the dinner that nearly brought tears to your eyes at how romantic and calm they made the room feel.
And finally, to top it all off, right in the middle of the array of candles on the table was a large vase of your favorite flowers.
Flowers you had only ever mentioned to her once when she asked you, and you had told her not to worry about it because you could only ever get them in New Zealand.
“What do you think?” she asks, coming up behind you and wrapping an arm around your shoulder.
You quickly turn to wrap her in a tight hug, squeezing so tightly you’re surprised she can even breathe. “I love you,” you breathe out. “So much.”
Wanda laughs. “Does that mean you like it?” she says teasingly before continuing, “I love you too,” she kisses the crown of your head.
Burrowing deeper into her, you mumble, “I can’t believe...I can’t believe I’m really here.”
You remember how awful you felt 2 years ago, how hopeless you felt. How unworthy you felt. Now, standing here in Wanda’s arms, who you’re still convinced is much too good to be true, feeling so so loved, everything feels surreal.
“I have the same thought about you,” Wanda says, her powers running amok as she accidentally reads your mind again and hears your thoughts about her. “You’re too good. Sometimes I can’t believe you exist.”
“Stop,” you say as your cheeks turn red against her neck.
“Happy anniversary,” she says softly. “I have another surprise for you.”
That makes you look up. “What is it?”
“Join me for dinner and I’ll tell you,” she says cheekily.
“Why can’t you tell me now?” You pout.
“Nice try, but I didn’t spend all day cooking this meal for nothing.” She runs her hands up and down your arms. “Besides, you deserve a nice relaxing dinner after all the work you’ve done the past few weeks.”
You look up at her with a shimmering look in your eyes and a lovesick smile on your face.
“What?” she laughs.
“Just happy,” you reply, kissing her lips.
“You deserve it,” Wanda says easily. “Now come on!”
She leads you over to the table by the hand, pulling out your chair for you as you sit down, planting a quick kiss on your lips before sitting down across from you.
You share countless smiles and laughs as you have the best dinner of your life, zoning out a couple times as Wanda talks and you simply admire her for everything she is.
And as you bite into your chocolate chip cookie after Wanda has revealed the enormous batch she made, she’s telling you what the surprise from earlier was.
“So, I’ve checked your schedule,” she says excitedly. “And since you’re free this weekend I booked us a vacation in Palm Springs! The weather’s perfect, and you’ll finally get to relax after working so hard, plus, they have amazing grass tennis courts and I know you’ve been wanting to get back into playing since you don’t have much time for it anymore–”
“Wanda,” you cut off softly, shaking your head.
You can’t even begin to comprehend that tonight is real at all.
“What?” she asks, looking at you with a smile.
“Every time I start to think you couldn’t get more perfect you just…”
“I get the same feeling about you,” she says, making you blush. “But I’m not perfect.” She takes a hold of both of your hands and rubs her thumbs over the backs softly. “However, I do love you, so much, and I want to show it.”
“Well, you’re perfect for me,” you reply, meeting her gaze and smiling softly as the two of you just stare at each other. But suddenly, it clicks in your head. “How did you know I used to play tennis?”
Wanda blushes before she starts off shyly, “Um, before we started dating I went to your hospital to see if you were there, but you weren’t so I may have asked your oncology friends a couple things about you.”
“So you stalked me?” you tease.
“I couldn’t help it I had a crush on you!” she defends, letting go of your hands and putting her head into her arms. “I still have a crush on you.”
“How embarrassing,” you comment with a chuckle.
“It’s not embarrassing,” she defends as she lifts her head from her arms. “Have you seen how pretty you are?”
You blush, ducking your head down so your hair covers your face slightly. Even after a year of dating Wanda always managed to fluster you to no end.
“Wow, now who’s embarrassed,” Wanda teases back.
“Shut up, I hate you,” you say, embarrassed.
“Wow, that’s not very American of you,” she says with a chuckle.
“Take that back,” you say, lifting your head and narrowing your eyes at her.
“If you say yes to the Palm Springs trip.”
“I thought I already said yes.”
“Not verbally,” she emphasizes.
“I’ll go anywhere you go,” you say easily.
“Cute cop-out, but I need the word yes,” she says, sitting up and kissing your lips quickly before sitting back down.
“Yes,” you relent with a smile. “I’ll go to Palm Springs with you.”
“Good,” she smiles before a mischievous twinkle brings itself out in her eyes. “So I’ll get to watch you play tennis all weekend. I can already imagine how hot that’ll be…”
“Why do you insist on teasing me?”
“‘Cause you look so cute when you’re flustered.”
You shake your head, taking a bite of your chocolate chip cookie to distract yourself from the way Wanda was making you feel.
But instead she decides to mess with you even more, softly saying the words “so american” as she watches you.
And Wanda telling you she loves you made you the most flustered of all.
***
You had gotten Wanda a necklace for your anniversary, and she had gotten you a bracelet with both of your initials on them.
Now, waking up in your hotel in Palm Springs, you smile once you see the bracelet on your wrist. You turn in bed to see if Wanda was there, but you frown once you see the empty spot next to you.
Where was she?
You wonder where she could be, because she would never leave to go to breakfast without you, nor would she head out without telling you where she was going after waking you up with a soft kiss.
You don’t know where she could have gone.
But soon, your question is answered as she enters the room, a large tray of your favorite breakfast foods in her hands as she greets you with a smile.
You tilt your head in confusion.
“Hi,” she says, setting down the tray and kissing you on the lips. “I made you breakfast.”
Your heart flutters and your stomach fills with butterflies. “How did you manage to do this?”
“Turns out that locked room isn’t a closet, but a tiny kitchen,” she explains, pointing to the aforementioned room. “I found out after I woke up early this morning by accident.”
“I missed you,” you say, hugging her side. “Where’d you get the food from?”
“Magic,” she replies easily.
“Oh, right, I forgot I’m dating a witch,” you chuckle, hugging her tighter.
“I’m not a witch,” she says defiantly. “I was voted most powerful Avenger at Tony’s ceremony last year.”
“They’re right,” you say, looking over to the breakfast tray and smiling once you see the gorgeous rose that lays on its side. “But that doesn’t mean you’re not a witch.”
“I’m a not-witch who’s really in love with you.”
“And I’m a not-doctor who’s really in love with you.”
“Well, then we agree to disagree,” she says, putting the tray in front of you, silently telling you to start enjoying your meal.
“Mhm,” you say, eating a forkful of the omelet she had prepared and moaning at the taste. “Where’d you learn to cook?”
“My mother taught me, back in Sokovia,” she says quickly, heat flushing to her cheeks after she hears the sound you had made. Shifting from her position on the bed to move behind you, she gently shifts you forward slightly so she can sit behind you and outstretch her legs as she wraps her arms around your middle.
You lean your head back to rest against her shoulder. “She taught you really well,” you say, closing your eyes.
“Detka, are you gonna fall asleep while eating breakfast?” she laughs.
“No, I’m just savoring this moment,” you reply, kissing her shoulder. “And I want to savor this breakfast too.”
“Yeah? I’m that good?” she says with a chuckle.
“You are,” you say, opening your eyes to look up at her. “In fact, I might marry you right now if you keep this up.”
“I’d do it every day just for you,” she replies, kissing your lips.
And when you smile at her, that beautiful smile that makes Wanda’s heart beat faster than she can comprehend, she seriously considers pulling out the ring from her pocket to propose to you right in your hotel room.
***
“Baby? Wake up,” Wanda whispers, bright and early in the morning on September 8th.
You groan, not wanting to get up.
Wanda laughs. “Come on, it’s your birthday,” she says, kissing you on your forehead.
“Doesn’t that mean I should get to sleep in,” you grumble, burying yourself deeper into the pillows. “Come cuddle with me,” you say, sleepily patting the spot next to you where Wanda had slept last night.
“As much as I would love to, if I cuddle you right now you’re only gonna end up sleeping for another hour. And there’s a bunch of things prepared for your special day,” she says softly.
“Another hour sounds great, thanks,” you mumble as you start to feel yourself drift off.
“No, no, no, come on!” she laughs, gently pulling the blankets off your body.
“It’s cold,” you groan as the air of the room starts to wash over your body.
“Because you and I sleep in negative degrees,” Wanda says teasingly before gently sitting down on your bed to hug you tightly.
After a few minutes, you accept your fate as you sit up with a sigh against the headboard, Wanda letting go of you to grab the glass of water on your nightstand to hand to you.
“Happy birthday,” she says softly as you take a sip of the water and she watches you with a smile.
You kiss her gently. “Thanks.”
“How’d you sleep?” she asks.
“Really well.” You grin. “I got to cuddle with you all night.”
“Last night must have helped too–”
“I will throw this water in your face if you finish that sentence,” you cut her off, starting to blush.
“I wouldn’t mind,” she says with a smirk. “You’re really hot when you’re angry.”
“So, theoretically if I yelled at you, you’d just end up wanting to have sex?”
“First,” she says. “You would never yell at me.” You give her a look, and she just smiles smugly because she knows she’s right. You were way too nice to ever yell at anyone. Even animals. “And second, yes, that’s usually how that works.”
“You’re a middle school boy,” you say with a shake of your head.
Wanda just smiles before kissing you deeply. “Can’t help it.” She brushes a strand of hair away from your face. “You’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.”
“You’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen,” you say back.
Wanda grins. “Ready for your birthday?” she asks, standing up from the bed and holding out her hand for you to take.
You nod, smiling as you take it and stand up, kissing her quickly before she starts to take you through the day she had planned.
And when you’re back, cutting into your birthday cake to hand out to the team members (Natasha was on a mission in Africa) which Wanda had baked, you’re back after a sunrise picnic full of your favorite foods, a relaxing walk across the beach, lunch at your favorite diner, a tour of your favorite locations in New York City as well as somehow meeting your favorite tennis player on the Arthur Ashe stadium of the US Open (you have absolutely no clue how Wanda pulled that off), you turn to your incredible girlfriend, who’s already staring at you with an adoring gaze in her eyes.
Softly, you say, “I’m so in love with you.”
You never knew your heart could ever feel this full.
“I’m so in love with you too,” she replies, kissing you in the most gentle way yet somehow still communicating the deepest sense of passion. “Happy 24th, detka.”
You want to cry, you want to cry the happiest tears of your life because, god, you have no idea how you got so lucky to have this woman in your life.
But instead, you kiss her on the lips, hoping it says everything you need to.
And Wanda knows exactly what you’re saying.
***
“Oh, my god, what if it’s too much!” you ramble to Yelena as you pace back and forth in your apartment back home.
“You’ve been dating her for 4 years, you idiot,” Yelena replies, rolling her eyes.
“Exactly! What if this is like a 5-year thing, or 7 years– Or, god, I don’t know!”
“Y/N,” she says, grabbing your attention. “Listen, this is ridiculous. That girl is so disgustingly in love with you, you could tell her you’ve hated her all this time and she would still think you gave her the sun or something.”
You frown. “I could never hate Wanda.”
“God, you two are insufferable,” Yelena sighs.
But Yelena’s secretly so happy to see that you’ve finally found someone who treats you the way you deserve to be treated.
“Hey!”
“For God’s sake, just go tell her you don’t like ravioli.”
“It’s her favorite food! We eat it every Thursday just for her!”
“It’s actually you who’s her favorite food.”
“What? Yelena, I swear–”
Later that day, Wanda accepts your revelation with a smile on her face and a kiss on your cheek.
***
“Wanda,” you say softly as you two walk hand-in-hand through the streets of New York.
“Yeah?” she says, turning to face you with a small smile.
“So, I don’t want to assume this,” you pause, fidgeting with your fingers nervously. “But, will you go out to dinner with me?”
Wanda grins. “We’ve been dating for four years and you don’t want to assume that I’ll go to dinner with you?”
“Well, you might be busy!” you defend.
Wanda laughs. “I’m never too busy for you, milaya.”
“You’re just saying that. What if there’s a criminal who shows up out of the blue and you’re needed for superhero business or something…”
“Then we’ll reschedule,” Wanda says, shrugging. “And I’ll make sure I always have time for you.”
You bite your lip anxiously. “What if…what if you don’t come back one day?” your voice trembles.
“Oh, baby,” Wanda says, hugging you. “I’ll always come back to you.”
“You can’t know that,” you mumble into her shirt.
“But I do,” she says, holding you by your shoulders and pulling away slightly. “Because you’re worth every bit fighting for, and I’ll always make sure that I keep fighting until I see your face again.”
Wanda frowns as she watches the tears roll down your cheeks.
Wiping them away with her thumb, she says softly, “I love you. I’ll always come back to the person I love most in the world.”
“I love you too,” you reply, wiping your tears with the back of your hand. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be,” she tells you. “I’m always happy to care for you.”
“I’m really hopelessly in love with you,” you say quietly only for Wanda to hear.
“The feeling’s mutual, detka.”
***
Wanda was going to propose to you tonight.
It was almost Christmas, which she had found out in your first year of dating was your favorite time of year (besides her birthday or your guys’ anniversary) because it made you feel like you belonged somewhere.
Wanda smiled while she watched you from the couch, biting the nail of your thumb as you thought carefully of which ornament to put next on the Christmas tree.
She was so in love with you, your work ethic, how much you cared for her, how loved you made her feel. She wanted to spend the rest of her life with you.
“Wanda?” you ask, snapping her out of her thoughts.
“Yeah, detka?” she replies, looking over at you.
You point to the box of blue and silver ornaments by her feet. “Can you pass me the silver one shaped like a Christmas tree?”
Nodding, she grabs the ornament from the box and makes her way over to you, hugging you from behind as you placed it carefully on the branch only a little bit taller than you.
“How does it look?” you ask with a smile, turning your head slightly to kiss her on the cheek.
“Even better than last year,” she replies, squeezing you tighter.
If someone didn’t stop her soon, she was going to propose to you right then and there.
In order to stop herself, she clears her throat and steps back from you a bit, letting go, hoping you don’t notice her actions.
However, you know her too well, and you turn to look at her with a small furrow of your brows.
Wanda gives an awkward smile. “Um, I’m gonna get started on the cookies,” she says, pointing towards the kitchen.
“Okay,” you say slowly.
Wanda nods, giving you a quick kiss on the cheek before leaving you to head towards the previously mentioned room.
Once Wanda’s in the kitchen, she lets out a sigh, wondering how she was going to get through the day without breaking down due to her nerves. Wanda checked her back pocket, making sure the ring was still there, and felt a sense of relief once she felt it’s black box.
She had it planned perfectly. After tonight’s holiday party with the team (which she had exclusively made sure Natasha could not make it), she was going to take you to the coffee shop where you two had first met, then she was going to take you to Shakespeare’s garden where you two had first admitted you loved each other, and she was going to officially propose to you at the firework show she had begged Tony to help her host.
Everything had to be perfect.
“Wanda?” you startled her out of her thoughts as you knocked on the doorway. Furrowing your brows, you ask, “are you alright?”
“What? Yeah! Yeah, I’m fine…” Wanda replies awkwardly, looking down at her feet and shifting awkwardly.
You laugh slightly, “Baby, you haven’t even started on the cookies.” You walk over to her, seeing nothing but two eggs on the counter in front of her and nothing else.
Wanda gulps slightly at your close proximity. How stupid that she had been dating you for 6 years yet you still made her feel like a teenager in high school. “I did…” she says weakly.
“Oh yeah?” you tease. “How delicious if we left out two eggs with milk for Old St. Nick?” You pick up an egg between your fingers to show her.
“It’ll give him something new to try,” Wanda shrugs.
Sighing, you put the egg down, and cup your girlfriend’s cheeks in your hands, rubbing your thumbs over them. “What’s going on?” you say gently.
“Just nervous,” Wanda admits.
“Nervous for what?” you ask, brushing a tendril of hair away from her face.
“You make me nervous,” Wanda says, relenting as she rests her forehead on your shoulder. “You’re so perfect,” she mumbles into your shirt.
Your heart feels like it might explode. “I don’t understand,” you say as you shake your head. “How are you the nervous one yet somehow you still make me feel like I’m gonna burst with happiness?”
Wanda smiles against your shirt. “It’s ‘cause I love you.”
“And I love you,” you reply.
“You know, we still have about 2 hours until Tony’s party…” she says suggestively, starting to kiss her way up your neck.
“More than enough time for you to help me finish the tree,” you say lightheartedly.
Wanda groans. “I hate you.”
“Too late, you’re stuck with me already.” You grin as you grab her hand and lead her into the living room, the cookies unspokenly abandoned.
Little did you know, Wanda wanted nothing more than to be stuck with you for the rest of her life.
And tonight, she was going to make it official.
***
“Why the fuck is it so cold,” Wanda muttered, rubbing her bare arms to warm herself up, before intertwining your hands once again. “It’s way colder than the temperature you and I sleep in.”
“Because Pepper’s here,” you say easily. “And Tony turns the place into an ice box just for her.”
“Can’t he just invite some sort of nano-machine that keeps it cold for her all the time? He’s got the money,” Wanda says bitterly.
You chuckle. “Come on, grumpy,” you start to pull her onto the dance floor. “This ought to warm you up.”
Wanda accepts as you wrap your arms around her shoulders and she wraps hers around your waist, the two of you becoming lost in your own little world as you admire one another in your respective dresses.
“You look so pretty,” she tells you, awestruck at your beauty.
“So do you,” you say, taking her in before resting your head on her shoulder, swaying as the two of you try to stay as close as you possibly can.
Wanda closes her eyes as she rests her cheek on the crown of your head, feeling so content with you in her arms.
“When did you first know?” you whisper next to her ear.
“When you made that stupid pun,” Wanda says, and she giggles once she hears you groan in embarrassment.
“That’s the worst one you could’ve said,” you say, lifting your head up from her shoulder to meet her gaze.
“Can’t help it,” she says, kissing you quickly. “It was so adorable.”
“I still think it’s insane that you actually find me funny,” you shake your head.
“I’ll laugh at all your jokes,” she replies easily. “It’s one of the reasons I fell in love with you.”
“Are all Sokovians this romantic?”
“Are all Americans this incredible?”
You both grin stupidly at each other before the two of you can’t take it and kiss each other deeply, pouring every ounce of love you feel for one another.
“Nope,” Wanda says as she pulls away. “Just my so American girlfriend.”
You smile, kissing her again, and again, and again.
And Wanda thinks it wasn’t fair of you either, to make her feel this much.
***
“Wanda, where are we going?” you laugh as she pulls you through the streets of New York.
“I need to show you something, come on!” she says, stopping once you realize where she’s brought the two of you.
The coffee shop where you first met.
“What are we doing here?” you ask, unable to stop the cheesy grin that makes its way onto your face.
“It’s a surprise, come on,” she replies, opening the door for you and letting you in. Once she shuts the door behind her, you turn, and your eyes soften once you see the shiny look in her eyes. “I’m taking you on a tour,” she says, guiding you to the back table where you two had first spoken.
“A tour of what?” you say, smiling as you follow her.
“A tour of how much I love you.”
And Wanda only falls deeper and deeper in love once she sees the happy tears in your eyes when she reveals your coffee cup from when the two of you had first met, which she had kept all this time.
***
“No way,” you say with awe as your next stop comes into your line of sight, the coffee cup held safely in your hand at your side.
“And I re-made the batch of cookies we shared that day,” Wanda said, pulling a tupperware of cookies from behind her back as you follow her onto the bridge of Shakespeare’s garden.
“What made you do all this?” you ask, shaking your head in disbelief as you come up to her to wrap your arms around her shoulders.
“It’s a surprise,” she replies, kissing you. “But for now, I want you to know how much you mean to me.”
“I do,” you say easily. “Every day.”
“Good,” Wanda grins. “And I’m gonna keep showing you.”
***
Wanda might not even propose tonight.
In fact, she doesn’t know if she’ll even remember as she’s lost in awe at how beautiful you look under the stars, holding the rail that separates you from the body of water in front of you while standing on top of a craggly rock, the booming fireworks causing your eyes to shine in a way that makes Wanda want to capture this moment forever.
But, she’s on a mission.
And when it came to you, Wanda always put her best foot forward.
“They’re so beautiful,” you say, completely in awe as you watch the colors explode in the sky.
“Just like you,” Wanda says softly.
“You know, I still really want to know why you did all this,” you say, turning to her and smiling once you see her already watching you. “I didn’t miss any special date, did I?”
“Of course you didn’t, your google calendar is already filled to the brim,” she replies with a teasing roll of her eyes.
“Well, if I didn’t have everything booked then you would forget all of your check-up appointments with your doctor,” you reply cheekily.
“You’re already a doctor.”
“Not the right kind of doctor.”
“You’re actually exactly my kind of doctor,” Wanda flirts, making you blush.
“I hate you. That was awful,” you say as you turn away.
And as you watch the fireworks in the sky once again, Wanda decides, now’s the time.
Taking a deep breath and swallowing her nerves, she gets down on one knee.
Then, almost robotically, she pulls out the ring, opening the box slowly, as if any sudden movement would cause the whole thing to shatter.
She just needed you to turn her way.
To turn your head slightly and see her message for you.
I want to spend the rest of my life by your side.
It feels as if time has stopped.
All she feels is the beating of her heart through her chest, the blood pounding in her ears, and her nerves washing over her over and over again– and all she needs is for you to look.
It feels like hours before you–
Then, you do.
And it’s slow, and careful, and gentle, and so you.
You gasp.
And Wanda shakily breathes out, “Will you marry me, detka?”
Both of your hands cover your mouth, and tears build in your eyes.
And Wanda feels the happiest she has ever felt–
When you croak out a yes.
Wanda wants to keep this moment forever. She wants to remember how full her heart feels when she slips the ring onto your finger. The feel of your lips on her own when you kiss her hard through both of your tears and your laughs of disbelief.
It’s the happiest day of her life.
And it’s the happiest day of yours, too.
***
“I’m so, so, in love with you,” you say as the two of you walk back to your shared home, wrapped in each other’s arms.
“I’m so in love with you too, detka,” Wanda replies, kissing your temple as she holds you close.
“When you were a kid, did you ever think you were going to have an American girlfriend?” you chuckle.
“I never did,” Wanda admits with a smile. “But I couldn’t be happier that I ended up with a beautiful, so American fiancée.”
You blush at the new title, hiding your reddening face in your fiancée’s neck. “Tonight doesn’t even feel real,” you mumble after a moment.
Wanda laughs slightly. “Yeah, I know the feeling.”
Suddenly, out of curiosity, you ask, “When did you buy that ring?”
“A week after we started dating,” Wanda says resolutely.
“What?” Your head snaps up from her neck.
“I just knew,” Wanda says, kissing the tip of your nose. “I knew you were going to be my wife.”
“That’s…” you shake your head in disbelief. “Wow.”
Wanda pulls you closer to her. “It was the easiest thing I’ve ever known. Wanna know why?”
“Why?” you ask.
“Because, from the first day I met you, I knew, you were everything to me. And you still are.”
Your eyes start to water. “I’m everything to you?”
“You are,” Wanda nods, kissing the crown of your head with so much tenderness it makes you want to cry.
But, you don’t start to cry because of the kiss.
And you don’t start to cry out of joy although you really, really want to.
No. The tears finally escape your eyes as you realize that you finally have everything you’ve ever wanted.
That you’re finally, finally everything to somebody else.
“You’re everything to me too.”
#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda x reader#wanda maximoff#wanda maximoff fanfiction#wandamaximoff#wanda maximoff fluff#marvel mcu#mcu#wanda x you#wanda x y/n#wanda marvel#wanda imagine#natasha romanoff#natasha romanoff x reader#wlw post
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· It Can Be Used To Avoid Being A Fraud Victim.
Identity Thieves Frequently Use Counterfeit Driver's Licenses To Avoid Capture. It Is Common To Practice Using A Phoney Photo And Personal Details To Do This, And It Can Even Be Used To Access Financial Accounts. Cars Are A Common Target Since Many Identity Thieves Use Fake Ids To Buy Them. But Facial Recognition Software Can Thwart Fraudsters By Matching Images With Data Held By The DMV.
Conclusion
Using A Buy Germany Driving License Is A Typical Deception That Might Have Dire Consequences For The Victim. Driving A Car Without The Proper Documentation Dramatically Increases The Likelihood Of An Accident. People With Many Traffic Offenses Are Likelier To Obtain A Fake License. They Have No Insurance And Could Be Responsible For A Hefty Bill If They Cause An Accident.
#Buy Canadian passport#Buy Canadian passport Online#Buy Chinese passport#Buy Fake Chinese passport#Buy UK driver's license#Buy USA passport#Buy Legit USA passport Online#How can I get California drivers license#Canadian drivers license#Buy Germany driving license
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Buck teaching his gf how to drive a car since she only has her motorcycle license bur he's scared she's gonna grind the gearbox too hard in his jeep so they borrow Eddie's car?
AUTOMATIC DRIVE — E.BUCKLEY
after half a decade of motorcycle driving, you want to actually learn to drive a car. buck thinks an automatic drive is your best option.
evan buckley x fem!reader | 1.1k | fluff | masterlist.
a/n— the default in the uk is a manual car (they call it a stick shift in the us right?) and let me tell you, i wish i learned in an automatic it would’ve saved me so much grief
It was a warm Saturday afternoon, the kind of day perfect for a drive around the city.
Except for the fact that you were about to learn how to drive a car for the first time.
Sure, you had your motorcycle license and had been riding for years, but cars? Whole different story. And Buck, bless him, was trying his best to be supportive.
"You'll do great," Buck said, offering you a reassuring smile as you both stood next to his beloved Jeep.
You gave him a look, raising an eyebrow. "You sure? You were just muttering about the gearbox under your breath like two minutes ago,"
Buck winced slightly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Okay, well, my Jeep is… special. It’s been through a lot, you know? The wildfires, rescues, that time it got stuck in the sand dunes—"
"I get it, Buck. Your Jeep’s your baby, I don't want to ruin it," you said, trying to keep from laughing at the anxiety creeping into his voice. “I don’t really need to be able to drive a car anyway—”
“No, no, you wanna learn to drive, you’re gonna learn to drive,” He sighed, looking between you and the Jeep, then pulled out his phone. "How about we call in a favour?"
—
Fifteen minutes later, Eddie rolled up, leaning out of the window of his family SUV with a raised eyebrow. “So, you’re trusting me with this? Or am I trusting you with my car?”
Buck laughed, walking over to greet him. “We’re trusting her with your car. I thought mine would be a little too, uh… temperamental for a first-time driver.”
Eddie glanced at you, a smirk playing at his lips. “Right. And you think my car’s gonna survive?”
You rolled your eyes, but there was a grin tugging at your lips. “I promise not to grind the gears off your car, Eddie. I’ve been riding motorcycles for years—I think I can handle a sedan.”
Eddie chuckled and tossed Buck the keys. “It’s automatic, so there’s no gears to be grinded. Plus, you’d have to try pretty hard to kill the engine on accident.”
Buck let out a visible sigh of relief. “Thanks, man. You’re saving me a lot of stress right now.”
“Yeah, well, you owe me one. If my car comes back with any dents, you’re on babysitting duty for a month,” Eddie called out, as he climbed out of the car. “Also, I’m borrowing your Jeep,”
“Yep— Shoulda seen that coming—”
—
You slid into the driver’s seat of Eddie’s car, feeling a little out of place compared to your usual motorcycle stance. Buck was in the passenger seat, hands already on his knees, clearly trying to keep calm.
"Okay," Buck said, his voice calm but a little tight. "First, adjust your seat and mirrors."
You grinned at him. "I know that much, Buck."
“Right, right. Just… making sure.” He took a deep breath, his hand hovering near the dashboard. “Okay, now foot on the brake and shift into drive. And, uh, easy on the gas, alright? It’s not like your bike.”
“Easy on the gas. Got it.” You followed his instructions, shifting into drive and slowly pressing on the pedal. The car began to roll forward, and you felt a little rush of excitement. “Look, I’m doing it!”
“Yup! Doing great,” Buck said, his voice pitched just a little too high. His hand was now gripping the side of his seat, knuckles white.
You turned the wheel gently to navigate the quiet streets around the neighborhood, keeping your speed at a comfortable pace. Everything was smooth for a few blocks, and Buck’s tension seemed to ease.
“This isn’t so bad,” you said confidently. “It’s actually kind of like riding, just with more—”
Suddenly, a squirrel darted across the road.
“Brake! Brake!” Buck yelled, his arm instinctively shooting out in front of you as if to shield you from some invisible impact and his foot pushed into the floor like he had a phantom brake pedal of his own.
You slammed on the brake, and the car jerked to a hard stop. Both of you lurched forward slightly in your seats, but the squirrel scampered off unharmed.
There was a moment of silence, both of you staring out at the now-empty road. Then, you burst out laughing, the adrenaline turning into a kind of giddy relief.
“Are you okay?” you asked between giggles, glancing over at Buck.
He had his head in his hands, but he was smiling, shaking his head. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just, uh… maybe a little traumatised.”
You grinned. “Come on, I didn’t even hit it! I’m doing great!”
Buck leaned back in his seat, taking a deep breath. “Okay, okay. You’re right. Just… maybe next time, we ease into the brake a little slower?”
You nodded, still grinning. “You got it. No more squirrel-slamming.”
—
A little while later, after a few more practice rounds of smooth turns and gentle braking, you pulled the car into Eddie’s drive, parking it with as much precision as you could manage. It wasn’t great.
Buck let out a long sigh of relief as he unbuckled his seatbelt. “See? That wasn’t so bad.”
“Yeah, you seemed totally calm,” you teased, nudging him as you stepped out of the car.
Eddie emerged from the house, taking his keys back with a grin. “No dents. I’m impressed.”
“Thanks for letting me borrow it,”
Eddie waved it off, though he shot Buck a knowing look. “No problem. Just remember, Buck, if I ever need backup with Christopher or you’re feeling brave enough to return the favour… you owe me.”
Buck groaned, but he was smiling. “Fine, fine. Babysitting in exchange for not destroying your car. Deal.”
As you walked back toward Buck’s Jeep, you slipped your arm through his. “So, what do you think? Did I pass your driving test?”
Buck grinned, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “With flying colours. I just might need a drink after this to calm my nerves.”
You laughed, squeezing his arm. “Deal! I’ll drive us there.”
Buck froze, eyes wide in mock terror. “Uh, maybe I’ll handle that part…”
#9 1 1#evan buckley#evan buckley x reader#9 1 1 fanfiction#buck x reader#evan buckley fluff#oliver stark#asks 🚒
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Kenan Yilidiz x Reader - Thick Part 1/8
You're gonna love this story!!!! I have my anons to thank, who's requests have enabled me to cook up this amazing fic for you all!
Summary - Kenan and Reader share the same high school friend group. As graduation is near, Reader sets out to pass her drivers license test, but ultimately struggles to. Thankfully Readers friends agree to help her with driving lessons and take turns doing so. It is during one of Rader's lessons that it becomes clear that Kenan likes her. A shock to Reader, who has a crush on someone else in their friend group.
Enjoy!
Six months until your high school graduation and you still hadn't managed to pass your driver's license test.
You were still motivated after the first failed attempts, but having failed four times after that had you questioning your level of intelligence as a human being. Were you really that thick?
"Thick?" Your friend Gio grinned. "Sure Y/N, you're the thickest girl I know. I'm mean look at the size of you're...."
A collective sigh spread around the lunch table, your friends throwing annoyed glances at Giovanni.
"What?" He shrugged.
"She doesn't mean thick as in big." Your friend Maria explained. "Y/N is asking if she's too dumb to pass the Italian driver's licenses test."
"Well, why didn't she just say that?"
"Sorry Gio. In the UK thick can also mean dumb." You said.
"And over there they say pineapple instead of ananas like the rest of Europe."
"Well that's dumb."
"You mean thick?"
"No, I mean dumb." Gio corrects Kenan who was smiling at you, the only person around the table to have understood his joke. "Dumb means dumb."
"Apparently not in the UK." Kenan said, continuing to tease Giovanni. You were the only one who found it funny, the two of them coming for each other's throats.
"Enough of this." Said Rebecca. "We need to help Y/N, pass her driver's license test before the summer, Otherwise we'll only have three drivers for the roadtrip to Bari."
"Three drivers?" Gio frowned.
"Yes, Me, Maria and Kenan."
"Well, what about Luca and I?"
"Well, for starters, I would never trust you behind the wheel of a car Gio, certainly not my parents Range Rover. I don't know how you got your driver's license in the first place, but having it certified in Pompeii just tells me what I need to know."
"What do you mean? My uncle lives over there. He had me driving the tourists around in his minivan."
"Exactly my point." Rebecca said. "Your uncle is a criminal and everyone knows it."
"Whatever." Gio waved. "None of you knows how to run a respectable business, that's all."
"You mean robbing tourists of their hard earned money?"
"Exactly."
"Guy's, please." Maria pleaded. Lunch hour was usually like this for you and your friends. You were a very diverse group, resulting in Maria often having to take on the role as umpire whenever the heated arguments would spiral. "I have to say I agree with Gio on this one."
"You do?" Gio and Rebecca uttered simultaneously.
"Yes. Not that Gio shouldn't drive, I will never be a passenger in his car. But why not Luca?"
All heads turned to the mysterious being that was Luca. He wasn't taking part in any of the conversations. Instead his head was turned away from the lunch table, his gaze overlooking the city of Turin, perhaps dreaming of escaping it some day. Except for being quiet and reserved Luca was also the kindest amongst you, and undoubtedly the handsomest out of all the guys. A personal opinion, that you preferred to keep to yourself.
"Yeah, Luca is not driving me." Rebecca said. "It's a long way to Bari, he'll get too distracted by the mountains along the road. What if we crash?"
"Yeah, I'm sorry to agree."
"Kenan?" Maria frowned.
"Well, then guess the driving will come down to you three." Gio said, looking at Rebecca, Maria and Kenan.
"Not if we help Y/N, pass her driver's licenses test." Rebecca opposed.
"And how the hell will we do that?"
"I say we take turns."
"Take turns to do what?"
"To give Y/N driving lessons. She's obviously not getting the right amount that she needs, it would cost her a fortune."
"Hey." You blushed.
"Sorry Y/N, but it's true. I say that once or twice a week until school ends, we take turns teaching Y/N how to drive, so when her time comes to take the tests she'll pass it flawlessly."
"I agree." Maria nodded.
"Fine." Gio sighed.
"Sounds like a good idea." Kenan second.
"Luca?"
Everyone shifted towards him as he had failed to answer, not that his answer was anticipated. However, to everyone's surprise, Luca's attention was drawn back to the table, his green eyes looking right at you. "Sure." He smiled. "I'll help Y/N pass her driver's license test."
"Great, that settles it." Rebecca said. "Who wants to go first?"
Your heart beat violently in your chest, hoping, no, begging, that it would be Luca. But as everyone shared hesitant glances, one person raised his hand. "I'll go first."
"Kenan." Maria grinned. "That's very kind of you."
He winked an eye at you as you sobbed internally.
#fanfiction#football imagine#footballer x reader#footballer imagine#football angst#kenan yildiz x reader#kenan yildiz#juventus fc
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I loooved the horror movies multi character blurb! im a big Mario kart fan lol and would love like another multi character one about reader trying to teach/play her gf Mario kart!
maybe with some of the Barca and Arsenal girlies? like alessia, leah, Alexia, mapi/ingrid but up to you who you want to do!! 🫶🏻
mario kart II a.russo, l.williamson, a.putellas, m.leon/i.engen
alessia
"-and you're sure this is how you want to spend date night?" you asked, in disbelief of the taller girls out of the blue suggestion.
"yes. you and vic now never shut up about me being a bad driver, time to test it out." alessia shrugged, fiddling around with the switch as she inserted the game card.
"lessi baby you're not a bad driver you're just...challenged in some aspects." you smiled, only rewarded with a pointed glare over her shoulder toward you. "whatever you say passenger princess." your girlfriend quipped back with a scoff.
"hey! it's not my fault that british roads hate me." you huffed, eyebrows knit into a frown at the fact you were still yet to gain a uk driving license or pass the test despite having held your full license in your home country for years now.
"well lets see if you're any better behind a virtual road then pretty girl, do they have a london track you can practice on?" alessia mocked with a pout, loading the game and handing you a controller.
"you'll regret that." you warned calmly, snatching it off of her and shuffling away as she sat right beside you making her eyes roll. "oh don't be so dramatic." the blonde reached over and tugged you back to sit right beside her.
"it's still date night even if you're about to lose." she smiled smugly, placing a sloppy kiss to your cheek and gasping as you wiped it off with a fake grimace of disgust, settling into her side.
after five minutes of bickering back and forth about which settings the two of you wanted to race with left you sitting in a dead silence as the air was thick with the competitive streak which raced through both your bloodstreams.
neither of you liked to lose let alone to one another, uno and jenga already banned in your shared home unless playing with a group. which likely came from the pair of you both being the youngest siblings in your respective families, growing up feeling as though you had something to prove by winning.
you easily won the first race while alessia came third, grumbling angrily to herself as you stayed quiet, simply smiling happily the second race started and you heard your girlfriend aggressively button mashing beside you as you took an early lead.
unfortunately with a poor streak of being relentlessly assaulted by red shells that race ended with her coming first and you coming fifth much to your displeasure, ignoring her teasing jabs and pushing her away as she leaned over and tickled your sides with a grin, pecking your lips a few times as she did.
alessia now one spot ahead of you in the rankings your third race loaded and both you and alessia groaned seeing it was rainbow road, finally agreeing on something which was that you both detested this course.
neither of your skill sets included staying on the track in that race, you finishing fourth and alessia in fifth as she was still just two points ahead of you and your final race commenced.
you cheered quietly seeing it was your favourite track, game face plastered on as the two of you raced continually switching who was in the lead right up until the final lap.
alessia was flying in first the finish line in sight and your stomach started to clench knowing you'd lost, already preparing for the onslaught of cocky remarks and teasing you'd need to endure from her for the rest of the evening.
but then a miracle occured, the blue shell hit and you went flying past her to come in first, topping the leaderboard. "yes! get in!" you cheered, dropping your controller and jumping onto the sofa, wiggling your hips around doing a victory dance.
"nah thats bullshit!" alessia yelled angrily, tossing the controller beside her and glaring up at you as you continued your dance. "loser, loser, loser!" you chanted repeatedly forming an L with your fingers as she harshly smacked your leg and sank back into the cushions with her arms crossed.
you collapsed down on top of her, moving to straddle her lap and squish her face in your hands. "buzzing!" you mocked her thick accent with a cheeky grin. "fuck off." alessia grunted with a scowl as she attempted to push you off her.
"now now lessibear don't be grumpy." you cooed sarcastically, kissing all over her face as she shoved you away trying to move you off of her as you pressed your hips down into her, clinging on.
"say; i alessia russo am a terrible driver both on real roads and virtual ones." you teased, pinching her cheeks as she grabbed your wrists and tried to pull your hands away.
"no, you're insufferable get off!" "say it and i will! come on baby, you can do it." you cooed encouragingly, still squeezing her cheeks in between your fingers
"i alessia russo at least have a license on the road, so whose the real loser?" "hey! that is not what i told you to say!"
~
leah
"oh you're dead and done for mate i'm gonna boss this." leah grinned competitively as you loaded the game, rolling your eyes at her choice of words. "don't call me mate! i'm your girlfriend." you shot her a glare over her shoulder and grabbed the controllers.
"no i want the red one." leah demanded as you offered her the blue. "too bad, i grabbed it first." you shrugged, squealing as her arms snaked around your waist yanking you down onto the sofa.
"give it to me." leah ordered as you shoved it into your back pocket and shook your head firmly.
"no. you don't even know how to play! if i have to put up with teaching you then i at least get whatever controller i want lee." you rolled your eyes, pushing away her hands as they tried to slide under your back to grab the controller.
"but red goes faster!" the blonde whined as you got your feet up to push them against her chest kicking her off of you and sitting back up. "you're such a child sometimes leah honestly." you shook your head, red controller in hand as the older girl begrudgingly picked up the blue one.
"well? are you going to teach me or just sit there in silence woman." leah huffed as you slowly turned your head to look at her with narrowed eyes.
"the game is loading! what would you like me to teach you then, to have some fucking patience?" you retorted sharply, leah only whistling in response.
"what?" you huffed sending her another glare. "you're just so gorgeous when you're annoyed with me babe, its honestly more motivation to beat you." leah smiled sweetly as you sighed deeply at the comment, not rewarding it with any verbal response.
selecting the settings you desired you spent time running leah through all the controls and the rules, clicking play once she'd confirmed she understood. "hey how did you do that!" she huffed seeing you get a speed boost at the beginning, choosing not to answer her.
"how do you release the power thingys?" leah asked, frustration growing when again you didn't answer. "oi! babe you said you'd teach me." leah shoved you causing your lips to curl into a smile, moving easily into first place as leah dropped into tenth.
"i did teach you, not my fault you don't listen or learn." you quipped, racing across the finish line with a smug smile. "show me again then." leah ordered fixing you with a stern glare as she finished in ninth.
"show you again..." you trailed off expectantly with a raised eyebrow. "now." leah ordered firmly, scowl present on her face as the next race loaded. "ooo wrong answer baby." you pouted, turning back to face the screen as leah groaned, kicking you half heatedly.
"what!" your girlfriend shouted, burning out at the starting line making your amused smile grow as you easily took off into first. "nah this is rigged!" the captain huffed as again she struggled to progress from last place.
"switch." she suddenly spoke on the last lap, grabbing your controller and dumping yours in her lap. "leah!" you whined, trying to grab it back as she moved onto her back and held you away with her legs, sock covered feet pressed to your chest.
"winner!" she cheered happily as she crossed the finish line in first, grinning up at you as you dropped to your knees and glared down at her with crossed arms. "classic defender, steals all the credit and gets all the praise from one little pass or kick out." you sighed, hint of a smile tugging at your lips as the grin dropped from leahs.
"no!" you laughed as she lunged for you, the two of you rolling around until you both promptly fell off the couch, leah groaning as you landed on top of her. tucking your face into her neck your bodies vibrated against each other as laughter filled the room.
"will you pretty pretty please teach me how to play love, properly?" leah asked as you shifted to press your forehead against hers. "only cause you asked so nicely." you agreed, pressing your lips to hers.
"but i'm keeping the red controller."
~
alexia
"baby?" "baby?" "ale?" "amor?"
"alexia!" you huffed louder, hands on your hips as your girlfriend finally looked away from the television with a raised eyebrow. "are you deaf?" you accused making the blonde roll her eyes and turn back to the mens football game on the screen.
"i wasn't finished!" you huffed again, tossing a trainer at her as she sighed deeply and again turned to look at you. "you promised we would spend some actual time together tonight." you spoke softer now, slight pout on your lips as you wandered closer.
"i did, but it is not tonight yet princesa." alexia smiled finding some amusement in the situation, nodding toward the large double paneled windows of your living room where the late afternoon sun was streaming in, nala asleep on the floor bathing in its warm glow.
"i-" you started, stumbling over your words, giving up with a scoff and retreating to your shared bedroom. you heard the blonde yell out she loved you, repeating it again when you didn't answer, but then the sound of the football increased and your eyes rolled.
flicking through several different streaming services on the television in your bedroom trying to find something to watch you smiled as nala joined you, admittedly taking pride in the fact she was now curled up with you instead of by alexia.
unable to find anything that interested you meant you let out a troubled sigh, spotting the switch in the corner behind one of your girlfriends many many trophies. plugging it in and setting it up you hunted around the room, trying to remember where you'd put the games.
finally finding them you loaded in mario kart, something you seldom played unless it was for a team bonding night you often hosted or when mapi would come over seeking company when ingrid was away on international duty.
you'd settled in and had been happily playing for what felt like only a little while, nala curled up happily into your side when alexia appeared, leaning her taller frame in the doorway with an amused smile.
"can i play?" you finished your race and looked at the older girl in surprise at her request, nodding and setting it up for the two of you as she grabbed another controller and got comfortable on the bed.
the blonde patting the space in between her outstretched legs you settled your back against her front, tucking your knees to your chest as your head leaned back against her shoulder.
your previous annoyance with her melted away as she pressed a few gentle kisses to your temple, humming every now and then as you walked her through how to play. it was rare the girl ever joined in playing on team game nights, much preferring to sit back and observe so you assumed she'd not played before.
how wrong you were.
the first race starting you craned your neck back and puckered your lips as the catalan smiled and rewarded you with a few sweet pecks as you mumbled good luck and settled back in.
though as the midfielder easily shot into first, skillfully navigating her way around the track and keeping a comfortable lead your eyebrows furrowed. you chose not to comment on it as you finished in second, alexia picking up on your body language and smiling, once more kissing your forehead as the next race loaded.
but as she once more kept a comfortable lead, even knowing how to avoid a blue shell shot her way your mouth formed a small o and as she raced across the line in first place and you again in second you paused the game.
"you've played before." you accused more than asked, turning your body to look up at her, smug smile settling on her lips. "to be fair cariño you did not ask if i had played before." she spoke with a shrug, infuriatingly attractive smirk painted on her rosy pink lips.
"when!" your frown deepened, pushing at her chest as she tried to kiss away your annoyed pout. "when do you think princesa? you do know you can remove the actual screen to play, no?" alexia nodded to the console in amusement as your frown deepened.
"your office!" you realized suddenly, the older girl often ducking off there on late nights if she was wound up after a match, always kissing away your tired mumbles for her to stay as she promised she would return once she had reviewed some match footage to try and help her decompress.
"si, now press play so i can keep winning." alexia grinned happily as you scoffed in disbelief. "hey no, come on amor don't be a baby." alexia chuckled, arms locking around your waist with an iron grip as you tried to move away from her.
"diabla." you muttered under your breath, shrugging her arms off but settling back against her chest. "la reina." alexia corrected with a smirk, grabbing your chin in her hand and tilting your head back kissing all over your face until a smile curled back onto your lips.
it was safe to say that much to your girlfriends endless amusement and your growing frustrations you didn't win a single race.
~
mapi/ingrid
ingrid chuckled as she returned to your shared apartment, not even having opened the door yet before she heard her girlfriends bickering from inside, slipping her key into the lock with a shake of her head.
"ha! eat that!" the tattooed spaniard sat beside you cheered as she hit you with a red shell and raced past you to win. "puta!" you groaned coming in second, kicking her lightly where your feet rested in her lap, bagheera watching on from where he sat atop the sofa right by mapi's head.
ingrid smiled seeing the two of you so engrossed in the game as she set her bags down on the table. though that was wiped right away as her eyes landed on the bomb site which was once her sparkling clean kitchen.
you and mapi had been left to your own devices as ingrid had spent the day out shopping with frido, which meant the house that she'd left in a reasonably organised state was now anything but.
an unreasonable amount of pans, pots and dishes for two people littered the stove top and sink where you'd both cooked lunch and not yet cleaned up, unable to agree on what you wanted and cooked several different things.
the baskets of both clean and dirty laundry still sat by the bedroom door where ingrid had left them, both of you promising her you'd deal with them while she was out.
clearing her throat making her presence known both of your heads whipped toward her, eager smiles plastered on your lips as mapi hit pause and ingrid walked over to stand in front of you.
"hermosa, you're back!" mapi greeted happily, though both of your smiles faded seeing the hard glare sent your way by the seemingly pissed off norweigen girl in front of you.
catching the baskets sitting unattended to behind her you realized far more quickly than the older girl beside you just why your girlfriend was less than impressed with you both.
"we were going to clean up after we finished this game baby, promise." you winced at her withering stare at your words, kicking your other girlfriend beside you to speak up. "you will do it now, go!" ingrid ordered, pointing one hand toward the laundry and the other to the kitchen.
you tried to sit up to do as she asked, but it was a heavily tattooed hand settling on your stomach which held you down from doing so. "if you beat us both, we will clean the entire house princesa." mapi challenged with a smile and a raised eyebrow.
"maría!" you hissed, eyebrows furrowing as she waved you off, pressing down again on your stomach as you tried to get up. "or, you do it now because i asked you to do it when i left hours ago." ingrid didn't back down, the two of them locked eyes and staring one down without a single wavered resolve.
"we'll do it now love. mapi!" you kicked her again with a scowl, the defender returning with one of her own in warning before her attention shifted. "one race?" the older girl smiled charmingly, wiggling the controller in her hand.
"if i beat you, you clean the house?" ingrid asked with a sigh of defeat, your other girlfriend nodding eagerly as the taller girl sat down on the floor with a shake of her head.
you moved to kiss ingrids cheek mumbling an apology in her ear, again kicking your other girlfriend who mumbled kiss ass under her breath in spanish as she loaded up the race.
you both explained the controls to her as the taller girl nodded along in understanding, readying herself as the countdown begin and you sat up.
all three of you racing didn't stop your bickering with the older defender beside you, once again trading insults back and forth both in english and spanish as you took turns in the lead.
you smiled somewhat proudly as ingrid moved up to third, now just one behind your other girlfriend as you opened up a steady lead. "hey! joder!" you swore again as mapi suddenly moved her hand to cover your eyes causing you to swerve off the track and shove her away.
starting the final lap you glanced down to see ingrids tongue poking out of her mouth in concentration, and a look beside you showed mapis face creased into a deep frown.
knowing if you both won you'd be in more trouble than before you waited to make your move.
a few hundred metres left you pounced, grabbing mapi's controller out of her hands and tossing it onto the arm chair in the corner as a string of angry spanish left her mouth and she tackled you but it was too late.
you crossed over in first, ingrid in third and mapi in sixth. you covered your face and tried to tuck into yourself as tattooed limbs smacked and jabbed at you repeatedly.
"el cabrón!" mapi huffed as you finally got a leg free and kicked her away, trying to shuffle up and away from her, grunting as she promptly sat her taller body down on your back.
"what?" she huffed at ingrids knowing look as you tried to throw her off to no success. "go!" ingrid ordered, pointing again to the kitchen and the laundry. "what? you didn't win!" mapi scoffed with a frown. "she didn't beat both of us, but she did beat one of us..." you smiled, ingrid humming in agreement.
"that is not fair!" the tattooed defender protested, hand smacking down harshly on your ass as you laughed at her expense beneath her, ignoring your whines for her to get off.
"i asked you both to do it hours ago. you made a stupid bet and you lost. go maría!" ingrid ordered, eyes narrowing to show she wasn't joking around, mapi groaning but standing up to her feet.
ingrid ducking off to shower you rolled over and grabbed the tv remote, flicking off the switch and onto netflix, though before you could make another move your body was hauled up into the air and you found yourself hanging over your other girlfriends shoulder.
"maría put me down! i didn't lose!" you laughed, smacking her back as she walked the two of you away. "no but you did cheat princesa." mapi tutted, holding your body up with one arm and grabbing a basket of laundry in the other as you continued to laugh, an amused smile now settling on the defenders lips.
"where are we going amor? put me down!" "no, i am going to lock you in the washing machine to teach you a lesson." "ingrid!"
#leah williamson x reader#alessia russo#alessia russo x reader#woso imagine#woso fanfics#engwnt#woso blurbs#woso x reader#leah williamson#woso#ingrid engen#ingrid engen x reader#mapi leon x reader#mapi leon#alexia putellas x reader#alexia putellas#espwnt
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-YOU’RE MINE -
Summary: While you daydreamed about his face an ocean apart, he had no idea what yours was about to do to him. With a twist of fate and the heat of summer, a new relationship would completely ransack his heart - Everyday heavy with the thought of one another, neither of you were going to let the unexpected love of your life go. You were going to be his, you were his, and you were going to stay his.
Warnings: This series will contain fluff, suggestive, smut love bombing, little sad, and kind of angst- not sure what else really… if i miss anything please lmk!
Note: I hope you like it! There will definitely be more parts (don’t know how many just yet though.)
INDEX
Chapter 16 - ‘You’re Mine’
(This chapter feels long and is exaggerated but what isn’t about the whole series.)
It was another match day. It was raining as usual and you sat in your kitchen gathering things before Marcel was set to pick you up from your house. You two had gotten really close, you spent so much time together over the years. You joked that you spent more time with him than you did Trent but the hours you spent in bed with Trent probably tipped the scales in his favor. You were together just about every match and had developed a little routine. You could technically drive in the UK with your US license for now. In the next year though you’d have to take an actual UK driving test if you wanted a real license which you were planning on doing but we’re putting off so your boyfriend's little brother drove you around. You two would go to a particular coffee shop you both liked every home game, it felt comfortable but when you went in today something felt off.
“I know I sound crazy... but do you feel like people are looking at us?” You hushly asked Marcel waiting in the queue.
“I am the best looking brother, it happens, people know…” he goaded, staring ahead debating if he wanted to venture away from his usual order.
“Humble too… but no, seriously.” You quipped back.
“Erm… “ he looked around the place assessing if anything was different, and it did feel different. “Now that you mention it, maybe a little… Don’t worry about it.” He tried to reassure you but put his hand on your shoulder moving you in front of him in the queue just in case. The Alexander-Arnold’s kept a low profile but they were known in Liverpool, when the boys walked in anywhere it was noted. The three brothers, obviously Trent, but all three really felt inclined to make sure you were okay. You weren’t actively trying to keep the relationship under wraps but your presence alone over time caused people to take more and more of an interest in Trent’s personal life and they were doing anything to get some insight. The uptick in curiosity was apparent to his family as it had changed from what they had been used to and it now was involving someone else; you.
When you were next in line the barista’s jaw slacked a little recognizing Marcel. You put your phone on the counter mindlessly before ordering and her eyes glanced down at your screen. Your background was a photo of Trent picking you up after a match, legs wrapped around him, still in his full kit, kissing. Her eyes widened, putting all the pieces together that the ‘mystery girl’ she and the whole city, country had seen, still unidentified in posts about Trent’s relationship, was in front of her and 100% in a serious one with Trent.
Marcel stopped the awkward encounter in its tracks interrupting it to place his order. When you got your drinks he trailed behind you making sure no one was going to bother you. Finally back in the car, relieved and back to normal banter with Marce, you got an abrupt call from Trent.
“Hi baby,” you cooed with a silly smile, answering excitedly to hear his voice.
“Can you do me a favor, beautiful?” His words came fast and he sounded a little stressed. You told him you would and he calmed hearing you and thanked you mushily with a few ‘I love yous’ before he even got to the actual task. Marcel rolled his eyes, able to overhear the excessively affectionate conversation.
“Could you bring me my headphones? I think I left them at home. I don’t know where. They aren’t here. I need them. I need them before the match.” He was panicking at the thought of shaking up his usual routine.
“Course, T. It’ll be fine. I’ll get them and be there soon.” You reassured him.
“Nah, it’s not like I’m the one actually really going to be doing this or anything..” Marcel yelled for Trent to hear. Trent knew you wouldn’t say no to helping him and Marcel wouldn’t say no to helping you so it was a chain of coercion. Trent was at the hotel with the team before the game, his car parked at Anfield already so even if he was allowed to leave, which he wasn’t, he couldn’t go get his headphones himself.
When you arrived at the hotel, security had to let your car through barricades. There were hundreds of fans surrounding the gates of the hotel knowing it was where the squad gathered every match. Trent met you and Marcel down in the lobby. It was rare for you to see him on match days so this favor turned out to be a pleasant one. Marcel kept his hand on your back from the car to the front entrance. His frame blocking yours from the fans. Trent greeted you both getting his headphones and the camera shutters were clattering outside. Trent dapped up Marcel as he wished him good luck. It was sincere but incredibly bro-y. Your interaction couldn’t have been more opposite. The crowd outside’s view was skewed, blocked by trees, a pillar in the hotel, other people in the lobby, but some of the onlookers were adamant to see what was happening, recognizing his brother and spotting Trent appear inside. Trent pulled you into his chest placing a kiss on your forehead whispering in your ear furthest away from the doors so no one could make out what he was saying but it was all being captured. He couldn’t help himself as his hands slid from holding your lower back while you three talked quickly to slip down to palm and squeeze your ass. You left with a kiss to his cheek and a tight hug before Marcel swung his arm around you to walk to the car leaving.
Once Trent had his headphones the team could proceed with preparations and went for their pre-match walk around the city. A little boy stood patiently on a corner holding a number 66 shirt so Trent stopped mid stride talking with Dom to sign a little boy's jersey.
“All good mate?” Trent cooed, taking the shirt from him.
“Do you have a missus?” The little boy bluntly asked.
“Uhh..” Trent was shocked by the question, his brows furrowed and he pulled away before laughing it off. Dom squeezed Trent’s shoulder at the direct and funny question.
“What’dya need to know what I’m up to off the pitch for?” Trent asked teasing, diverting from his lack of answer.
“I think you should date my sister so we could be related, you could be my brother.” The little boy's logic was wild but it was cute and endearing.
“I’m happy at the minute lad but thanks for thinking of me. You’re a big fan, yeah?” The little boy nodded eagerly. “We’re bros then. Reds are family.” Trent bent down and squeezed the little boy's arm, his mum thanked him for stopping before he and Dom walked away. She had captured the sweet encounter on video for her son to remember and posted it to her Twitter tagging him to share how kind Trent had been. The video fell into the abyss before it was spat into the algorithm and started racking up likes. The nice video turned into fuel for a fire that was already brewing on the app.
A Liverpool fan account shared a few videos and photos they’d taken at the hotel as live updates before the match. One particular post read ‘Alexander-Arnold last minute delivery before tonight’s clash’ including a bundle of photos and videos of you, Marcel, and Trent’s interaction. Its original intent was harmless but spiraled quickly when fans became interested in who delivered the item rather than what it was. Tweets and replies were multiplying at a rapid rate in discussion.
‘If we win tonight it’s thanks to another Alexander-Arnold’s assist’
‘What could he really need that badly to hold up the whole team?’
‘If that’s his brothers girl, I’d be throwing hands when Trent gets home’
The tweets were dramatic and exaggerated but the discourse ran wild with the tweet about you being his brother's girl. Simultaneously the heartfelt video with the little boy was generating another discourse about his current relationship status. Accounts were quick to call out Trent’s avoidance in his reply.
‘Wait.. but answer the question. Does he have a missus?’
‘If I was the girl he’s always seen with I’d be screaming’
‘Why didn’t he answer’
There were paralleled conversations about Trent and they both involved you. When the inevitable happened and the discussions merged ‘Alexander-Arnold’ began to trend on Twitter. You were blissfully unaware of it all unfolding going to the stadium. The internet dialogue continued as you entered Anfield with Marcel and Dianne. You were walking down the steps of the open air seats in the box to sit down to watch Liverpool warm-up when someone in an adjacent section took a video when Trent blew a kiss to you. A DM including the video was sent to a Liverpool update account who quickly reshared the message.
‘She’s here tonight btw with his family. Definitely together.’ Definitely not his brother's girl.’ The video featured you leaning on the bar in front of your seats, it panned to Trent’s kiss, then back to you smiling making a heart with your hands down to him. People were desperately just looking for confirmation of the relationship and this video was only feeding the beast.
After another win, you left the stadium with Trent headed back home. Pulling out, the car, as expected, was flooded with camera flashes. The photos quickly uploaded to the continuing Twitter narrative. A storm was brewing and you had no idea. Before, during, after... it was being rubbed in the public’s face you were together but they knew nothing about you.
You weren’t much of a Twitter user but the buzz there had leaked over onto Instagram. You were on your explore page scrolling mindlessly, Trent’s hand holding your other in his lap, when you jolted up seeing a video zooming in on you in the box tonight.
“Oh my god!” You exclaimed in the relatively quiet car.
“You okay?” Trent's eyes widened at you before speaking again, “baby...”
“Just… erm. Someone posted videos of me at the stadium.” You muttered out shocked not looking away from your phone, swiping to only see more photos.
“That’s happened before though, no?” Trent tried to downplay it in hopes it would settle you. You had gone almost two years keeping things private but lately…things had started to get a little out of control.
“Yeah, but this is like… my face. It’s about me. I’ve always just been in the background. People are talking about me… specifically.” You mumbled lost in your phone screen.
“When we get home, I’ll look at it, baby. It’ll be okay. Promise.” He kissed the back of your hand continuing to drive. As you had discussed you weren’t hiding the relationship and people were bound to talk. People would eventually want more details but your private information wasn’t up for grabs. This was the first time though there was direct focus on you.
“Did you still want to go out tonight?” Trent was hesitant with his question seeing your obvious discomfort with the online attention but he needed to know. It wasn’t often players, specifically Trent, went out after games. There was a break in the fixtures though and some of the boys wanted to grab a dinner together tonight thanks to the earlier kick off time.
“No, it's fine, T…” you said, leaning your head onto his shoulder looking for some solace. He pulled into your driveway and seeing the warm light emitting from your front door made you feel a little better. It was your little sanctuary tucked away in suburbia, just you and him together. That didn’t last long though when another set of car lights came beaming down the driveway.
“Think Dom came straight here. You gonna be okay, baby?” He spoke, pulling you off him to look into your eyes trying to see an honest answer. You could only nod. When you got into the house, Trent and Dom went straight into the kitchen, you told them you had to go upstairs to change, trying to get a moment alone. The videos of you today had accumulated thousands of comments about you. You scrolled what felt like endlessly until your phone was plucked from your hands.
‘Erm… who the fuck is that?’
‘He could do so much better’
‘TAA scoring on and off the pitch’
‘Ngl not good enough for me’
‘Honestly, gross.’
“Stop…” Trent had come upstairs. He knew you well, he knew you were running away trying to hide being upset from him. He snatched the phone away from you sitting on the edge of the bed to stop the flood of self doubt you were feeling. “Do you know who I’m looking for in the stands every match?” You didn’t respond just looking blankly around the room. “Hmm?” His hand was a little harsh, grabbing your chin to turn it up to him.
“Me..” you quietly said, rolling your eyes at his persistence to make you feel better.
“And who are you looking at..” he cooed, still holding your chin. His thumb caressing under it.
“You… T.. stop.” You pulled away getting actually annoyed with him.
“Baby…me and you. That’s it. Why do you care about people who we aren’t even aware are there? I’m looking at you, that's what I’m paying attention to.”
“T.. I’m not like you, people talking about me doesn’t just roll off my back.” You quipped standing up. He pulled at your shirt to keep you close.
“C’mere” your body pressed into his. He was tired and a little frustrated, not able to understand how you were feeling. His aggression started to seep through as lust. “Gonna be a good girl? Put something pretty on for me to go out? Hmm?” He was teasing you, his lips pressing to your neck now nipping a little at your skin, pulling a soft moan from you. “Hmm, baby? Let me take you out, show everyone how sexy you are for me?” His hands came to stroke down your thighs squeezing at your legs.
“T, please.” You whimpered.
“Answer me… gonna be a good girl?” His words felt like a drug, your brain had gone hazy, the sensation of his hands and lips on you had intensified.
“Y-yeah, okay baby. I can be a good girl for you tonight.” You whined and felt his cock twitch at your words. He let you initiate a passionate make out. It was mean but he pulled away. He slapped your ass, pressing his lips to yours once more before he walked towards the bathroom. “Hey!” You yelled after him flustered.
“Go on, we’ve got to go soon.” He said looking at you through the mirror with a smug smirk gesturing to the wardrobe.
He went downstairs and you got ready to go. You, Trent, Tyler, Dom, Curtis and a few other friends were going into Manchester for dinner. You came into the living room where the boys were, albeit a little shy after all the online commentary on your appearance. You weren’t sure if Trent told them but the boys were actually incredibly sweet telling you how good you looked for a change instead of the usual jeers. Trent got up to come over to give you a big hug.
“You know how much I love you, baby?” He whispered, lips pressed to your ear. His words sent a shiver up your spine. You just nodded, still feeling the remnants of your confidence being knocked down a few pegs. You sat on the edge of the couch starting to put on your shoes. You opted for a pair that brought back a warm familiar feeling. They were the pair of black heels you wore on your first date with Trent. The ones that wrapped and tied around your ankles. Trent offered to help you tie them so he came over and sat on the floor in front of you. His face perfectly aligned with your core. You were in a black mini skirt and he smirked at his view of your legs open a little so you didn’t close them. He just wrapped the leather strings around your ankles slowly, eyes fixed on the little material covering you. When he was done his hands stayed on you gliding up your legs as he stood up. Hands going up your calves, over your knee, gripping your thighs harshly to push himself off the floor. He leaned towards your face, you expected a kiss but he went straight to your ear biting it.
“You're so hot, you're gonna lemme take those panties off you later?” He whispered. Trent was trying to build your confidence back up and to be honest it was working. Having a man at your feet, staring at your panties asking to take them off later had you smug.
With your mini skirt, you wore a long sleeve sheer black top with a black bra underneath showing it intentionally. You actually really liked the look when you caught a glance again in a mirror in the foyer as you were leaving, setting the alarm to the house. While you typed in a code Trent’s hand crept under your skirt to squeeze your ass but he managed to pull the material up completely exposing your butt too.
“T!” You exclaimed, very aware your whole ass was out.
“Relax… everyone’s outside. Just f’me yeah?” He said in a sexy voice and as you scanned the room noting you were actually alone and gave in to his persuasion.
“So needy… gonna be like this all night?” Your eyes feigned innocence. You grabbed his hands and guided them around you to place them over your exposed ass. Once his hands were where you wanted them you took your hands off his and slid them over his chest slowly upward until you got to his neck wrapping your hands around it, digging your nails behind his head. You hummed when he started to massage your ass, your bodies coming to press together. Your faces were so close. Your glossy lips kissed his slow when you gently pushed your hips into him. He groaned a little at the movement only to squeeze you tighter and push a harder kiss back to you. He pinned you up against the entry way console, picking you up to sit atop it, him coming to stand in between your legs. His hands slid under your top up your back pulling your body into his. You moaned in his mouth at the feeling. If people weren’t waiting for you this would’ve ended up differently but instead you pulled away. His hands coming off your back up to your cheeks.
“All night.” He finally answered your question and it had you giddy. You both were incredibly aroused leaving the house so it was bound to be an interesting night. You closed the front door and got into some luxury car service completely lost on you, your focus was on Trent’s hand around your waist squeezing you, his thumb tucked in the waistband of your skirt. The boys had to kind of travel separately and enter stagnantly to avoid complete chaos. So you went in one car with Trent, Dom and Tyler. It was filled with a lot of noise, the boys all yelling about nonsense but it all sounded like static, the whole world blurred around you but Trent. You were lost in a moment gazing at him wondering how he got to be so perfect. He had pulled your legs over his. He wrapped one arm around your back, the other holding onto your thigh, while your hands played with the fingers of his hand on you. His body was so warm. He was so beautiful. You could stay in a trance like this for hours watching his lips move, his eyes light up, dimples appearing in big smiles and then disappearing but it was cut when the car came to a stop in front of the restaurant.
“Let’s go eat, beautiful,” Trent said, nuzzling his head into your neck playfully.
When the driver opened the door the all too familiar white barrage of flashes returned. Trent grabbed your hands and squeezed them. “Me and you.” He whispered before helping you out of the car. He held your hand tightly walking into the restaurant. When the door of the restaurant closed behind you he grabbed your hips swiftly pressing his body to your back behind you. His lips pressing kisses to your neck. “Okay?”
“With you… yeah. Always.” You said hands snaking up to hold his face for a quick kiss. Even in moments of distress he made you feel at ease, always sure to check on you. Unfortunately, the restaurant wasn’t that much calmer than the scene outside. This was a pretty popular spot that footballers seemed to frequent, it was expensive, it had good security, you guessed good food but it was just more so known as a domain of theirs hence the photographers outside anticipating the arrival of a few if not more players. It was a big place. Your table was a large one for all of you tucked behind an ornamental tree providing a screen from the front of the restaurant and potential for outside photos. You slid onto a bench Trent coming to sit absurdly and unnecessarily close to you but you liked it that way. Per the restaurant's standards an incredibly attractive girl came over to introduce herself as the server. She was very nice and returned promptly with bottles of liquor ‘on the house.’ It was ludicrous these boys were given so much for free given how much they made but you were just along for the ride and weren’t going to complain having a seat at the table.
After receiving the menus, Trent held up his childishly high to cover your faces to kiss you. His hand slipped around your waist gripping the material of your skirt. You couldn’t not smile but pushed the menu down, pulling away from the kiss to lean your head onto his shoulder, attempting to move your body even closer into his.
It wasn’t long after you had ordered that a group of younger girls came up to the table giggling. You understood the infatuation. They stumbled over words but eventually got some out.
“H-hi..” the first girl giggled, hiding behind her friend. Dom's eyes widened watching the girls lose all common sense when he looked at them. When they pushed closer to the table Trent’s hand possessively came to grip your thigh tight and high pushing your skirt up a little where you had to adjust it not to show your panties.
“Okay?” Curtis asked the group not really caring for their answer but just wanted to see them squirm seeing as this was a little amusing. You looked at Tyler shaking your head at them entertaining the girls falling over them. The girls weren’t all that young though after getting a better look. They probably were close to Curtis and Doms age so you gave them the benefit of the doubt maybe they had drank too much.
“Could we get a quick picture?” One girl finally got to what they came over for. Tyler almost interjected seeing as the boys were just trying to eat dinner with friends but let it play out. When Dom confirmed they could he stood up and walked around the table next to the girls who continued in their fit of giggles. At this point you deduced they were definitely drunk but you thought it was funny and a little sweet, not something you couldn’t see you and your friends doing. Definitely the giddy demeanor around boys who looked like they did. Trent hadn’t really paid mind to the situation, he acknowledged them of course, he’d never be that rude but he didn’t say much.
“I can take it if you want,” you smiled offering. Tyler looked at you with a ‘thank you’ expression because this interaction seemed to be dragging, taking a long time with the intermittent giggles.
“Oh my goodddd! Thank youu sooo much!” The girl was definitely slurring. Dom placed himself between Trent and Curtis still in their seats with the girls nestled in between them. Trent slid over on the bench some for the picture but kept his hand on your leg, just moving it down as he got further away. You took a couple photos for them.
“Can you take one with flash..?” One girl called out. You said sure. The light from the phone's camera though was like an alarm bell for people in the restaurant to register who was at the table.
“Here ya go” you said kindly, holding the phone out for the girls to grab after the photos. Trent pulled himself back over to you. You smiled at him softly. He returned the smile, gaze now locked back on you; his hand coming to brush up your spine to your neck, gripping it gently, stroking his thumb over your skin.
“Thank you! Sorry and you’re…?” one girl questioned who you were as she reached for the phone curiously watching Trent’s hands all over you.
“My girlfriend,” Trent answered for you. It was definitely short but he turned toward them with a smile.
“Oh! Omg she’s actually your girlfriend!” They all kind of murmured together simultaneously. Their tone and look of connecting all the dots in their head was enough for Tyler. He nodded at someone who worked at the restaurant who swiftly came over to the table and asked the girls to go on their way. The table continued on with the conversation you were in before like nothing happened but you definitely didn’t miss one of the girls sitting back at her table taking a photo of what looked to be directly of you.
You sat through the meal happily, probably having a drink too many but you blamed it on the bottles that kept appearing. Trent kept a hand on you at all times. You shared a quick kiss and nuzzled into him as you listened to Curtis tell a chaotic story. You were so comfortable under the influence of Trent and Tequila it was almost lost on you you were out in public for the moment. A table across from you, one behind Curtis, was pointing at Dom so you watched them talk about him, in a literal sense, behind his back. It was after that when you felt like you got a bit paranoid. It felt like there were eyes on you. You could feel the text being sent at the table next to yours ‘omg Liverpool players sitting next to us at the restaurant. Trent Alexander-Arnold is all over that girl… not that pretty in person imo’
Dinner wrapped up and your paranoia was broken in half when you heard Trent’s voice above you.
“Ready?” Trent said, holding out his hand for you to stand up.
“Thank youuu” you cooed while holding onto it, bringing his arm around your waist once you were fully standing up in front of him. Your faces pressed close together your noses brushing against each other saying mushy things till he placed a kiss on your lips. While you two stood there in your own world a man stopped Dom and Curtis for a photo. They graciously took one. The man posted the photo right away to instagram in excitement tagging both boys. The photo picked up more traction than a usual fan photo though when you and Trent were lit by the flash kissing holding onto each other in a way that could only be described as ‘in love.’ It was probably the first picture, a zoomed in, cropped, low res one, but the first proper one people had been able to see you were a couple. It was a quiet answer to all the questions; you weren’t with Marcel, you weren’t a friend of the family; you were most definitely Trent’s girl. The storm began to brew again online.
You left the restaurant hand in hand with Trent, the white flashes filled your eyes again, leading you to the car. He helped you get in but stood close to your body to block the view in case your short skirt slipped too high. You held onto his hand and stepped in dragging him in after you giggling a little as he stumbled in. He sat in the back seat and pulled you onto his lap. You felt like you could hide a little tucked in the back of the car waiting for the others to walk out so you grabbed at his face to give him a kiss but your body so close to his mixed with the drinks from dinner the innocent peck snowballed into a messy makeout. The cameras continued to shutter when Dom exited the restaurant walking to get into your car. The bright lights illuminated the interior of the car, you were unaware that the cameras could see inside while memory cards of media outlet’s press cameras filled with images of you on top of Trent passionately kissing, hands all over each other. The steamy moment only broken up because Dom opened the door to get in.
It was a night off for the boys, drinks were flowing, and you started to really let go of what people might be thinking of seeing when you were with Trent. No camera or headline could outweigh the love in Trent’s eyes when you looked at him. The car pulled away from the restaurant and drove a short distance to a club that had invited them to have a private table. With your newly developed detachment from the attention, Trent’s hands on you didn’t feel like a form of reassurance but a confirmation that it truly was just you and him. The ride to the club felt much more free, you could still feel the warmth from the cameras but it didn’t ignite your anxiety the same. You didn’t care, you were a little drunk on tequila and really drunk on love when you finally arrived.
It was like a familiar replay of entering the restaurant but as you exited the car to enter the club you felt more prepared to ignore the barrage. You were a little braver facing the lights. Trent held your hand and you squeezed his, your other hand gripped his forearm while he kept his head down guiding the two of you inside. You definitely didn’t like it but it’s how it was going to be on nights like this. Once everyone had made it in, security took you to a roped off area. The boys seemed unphased but you watched phones follow the group from the door to the section once they realized who was walking in. When you got to the section Trent pulled his hand away from yours and wrapped you in a tight hug, swirling you around with a kiss. It was a nice area filled with couches, tables of liquor, lights, the music was loud, and it overlooked a large dance floor but he was acting as if it was a closed off private room. If he was going to be okay with it then so were you.
It was a really fun night. You were drinking a lot more than you should’ve. You knew tomorrow it would seem like terrible logic but right now it was helping you cope with the amount of phones that seemed to be videoing your every move. You were straddling Trent’s lap on a je of the couches when he went to grab a bottle of tequila off the table to make a drink.
“Gimme!” You cooed in his ear taking the bottle of Don Julio 42.
“You want this baby?” Trent held the bottle further away from you just to tease so you whined rolling your lips into a pout. He caved immediately at the sad look that was swept off your face in an instant when you got what you wanted. You took a small swig from the bottle directly and Trent's eyes widened, he shook his head laughing. You leaned into him. You kissed his neck working your way up to his ear. His arms wrapped around your waist tightened. His hands gliding under your shirt. You pressed your lips slow and gently against his ear.
“Wanna taste?” You whispered sitting your core harder down on his lap.
“Mmm depends what of..” he cheekily replied. One hand letting go of you coming to grab your face and pull you in for a kiss then rolled into a messy make out.
“Relax!” Curtis called out from another seat. You couldn’t help but pull away from the kiss laughing. You were the definition of PDA and you were pushing the boundaries. Your one hand slid up the back of Trent’s neck and pulled on his hair to tilt his head back then sliding it to grip around his neck gently. He obliged and you couldn’t suppress the smirk. His arm still wrapped around you, your free one holding the bottle of the tequila poured it slowly into his mouth. It was sexy. A little dripped onto the side of his mouth when you pulled the bottle away so you took the liberty to clean it up with your thumb, brushing over his plump lips.
“I love you, baby” he cooed holding your waist tight.
“You’re drunk.” You babbled back earning another kiss from him making you beam.
“If I’m drunk.. then you’re very drunk, beautiful, but that doesn’t mean I love you any less.” He sealed his words one more kiss and you hummed in satisfaction. All you could taste was tequila and desire for him. It was like your body was wired to function solely off his approval.
The night continued as expected, drinks, more drinks, Trent refusing to dance, more drinks, and a lot of laughs. Your section was next to another private one that had later filled with a ton of girls in white all celebrating a hen do. It looked fun and made you miss your girlfriends back at home a little but a squeeze of your ass brought you back to the current moment remembering how happy you were to be here with Trent. You stood in front of him and nuzzled back into him. One of the girls from the hen do gestured over to ask if Dom, Curtis, and Trent wouldn’t mind taking a photo with the bride to be. Of course they didn’t, it wasn’t a big ask.
“I’ll be right back, pretty girl” Trent whispered in your ear before placing a kiss on your temple. The girl waiting to show them to her area watched your interaction like she had seen a ghost, shocked that all the swirling rumors over the past year were right, some wrong, it didn’t matter you definitely were with Trent.
They took what felt like a lot of photos. This was normal though, this was your normal now. People were excited to meet Liverpool players and if a photo was going to make a fan happy then that’s what the boys were going to do. It was a little ask but made a big impact.
You stood in your section trying not to watch in an attempt to not look overly protective or jealous. Tyler of course saw right through your facade.
“It’s fine” he confirmed to you, coming to grab both your shoulders from behind you.
“It doesn’t bother me, I just want to know what they say to him.” You told his brother honestly. It did make you wonder often but you never asked Trent because it was so common for him you didn’t want to make a big deal out of a regularity.
“You’re so hot, leave your girlfriend and come home with me’” he poked fun at your worry and impersonated how you were imagining these girls spoke to your boyfriend. “Y/N… you know they don’t say shit. If anything it’s a ‘my brother, dad, boyfriend, uncle, whoever loves you’ they just want a picture to show people they met him.” His actual opinion made you a little less tense but you still tried to glance over at the group.
“I know, it’s a me thing... I don’t know, it still gets to me.” You mumbled not really saying anything, a little embarrassed by your lack of confidence in the interactions.
“It is a ‘you’ thing. You two are end game, trust me… he’s definitely not thinking about anyone else.” Tyler told you, finally releasing your shoulders after one last tight squeeze. He and Trent had had many conversations about the trajectory of your relationship; ultimately what Trent wanted out of it and when he wanted it but you didn’t know he had these finite plans. You two just kept an open dialogue about the future with no real decisions made yet so Tyler bit his drunk tongue from sharing Trent’s plans for you.
“You don’t think there’s like an agenda there?” You asked once more as you watched a girl squeeze Trent’s arm in a photo.
“Yes, Y/N. One of those girls who met him just now, he’ll spend the next week not leaving a hotel, they’ll date, he’ll fly her around the world to see him, become so obsessed with her he makes them move in with our mum to then buy a house together all to just throw it to the wind…” He trailed off with the over exaggerated response mimicking a rendition of your and Trent’s story.
“Okay, okay! I get it. Thank you for the belittlement” you slapped at his chest starting to laugh at the ridiculousness of your worry spelled out for you.
“Believe or not… not all 10 million people that follow him want to have sex with him. In my opinion I’m amazed even one does, you’re insane to me but hey… each their own. If you want to voluntarily put up with his moody ass go ahead.” He said half joking half serious.
“He’s not that moody!” you tried to defend him but got lost when you caught Trent staring at you while he took another photo. He winked and your heart fluttered.
“Yeah… okay.” Tyler quipped, rolling his eyes. Tyler obviously knew Trent well and had a lot longer than you did and he was right, Trent could be dramatic but it was cute to you. You loved him for every quirk. Every little annoying thing to others was alternatively cute to you.
“One more!” The bride to be yelled while posing for another photo with the boys. “My fiancé is going to go mad when he sees this… thank you lot so much! Obviously I’m taken,” pausing to show the boys her ring, “but I have lots of cute friends!!!!” She squealed, pointing back to the girls they had just finished taking photos with. “Are you boys taken?” She quizzed. Dom just smiled, Curtis confirmed he was off the market leaving Trent. The girl looked at him but he wasn’t paying attention he was looking at you.
“Bro! She asked if you’ve got a girl?” Curtis snapped nudging Trent knowing the answer. He didn’t really turn back to the conversation he was itching to get back to you. He wanted to know what you and Tyler were talking about, he was definitely a little drunk and you looked so good.
“Yeah, me girlfriends over there.” He said practically drooling over the sight of you.
“Lucky girl!” The bride to be cooed. She was sweet, the boys said their goodbyes and wished them a good night etc.. you were still in Tyler’s ear yapping about something unrelated when Trent’s hands ran up and down your arms, his lips coming to your neck. It sent shivers down your spine.
“Hi” you cooed struggling to keep your voice steady trying to keep your gaze on Tyler to seem unphased by Trent’s arrival but he wasn’t interested in assisting you and Trent’s games, leaving you.
“I missed you,” Trent whispered, taking another step to press his chest up against your back. His hand snaked around your waist. Your heart began fluttering again. Any semblance of control to look composed was slipping away feeling the warmth of his skin.
“You were only over there, T.” You tried to play it off as if you weren’t eagerly awaiting for his return.
“You didn’t miss me?” His plump lips rolled into a pout. “Not even a little, baby?” His hands laced together tighter as you spin around to turn in his embrace to face him. You gave him a pretend unimpressed look.
“Don’t give me this.” You said pulling his bottom lip a little with your fingers. “So needy.” You teased, letting go of it, before pressing your lips to his. He hummed in contentment but you pulled away too soon for his liking so his hum turned into a whine. “I like when you need me, T.”
“I always need you” his hands sliding down to grip your ass over your skirt. “You should come home with me” he cooed, pretending like you were just meeting, like this would be a hookup.
“I don’t really know you though, do I?” You tried not to giggle as you questioned back like he once said to you on the street in New York.
“C‘mere beautiful.” He said pulling you closer pressing into his body. “I wanna finish what we started earlier.” You nodded your head ready for Trent to take you home. The way his hands felt on your skin made you dizzy. You felt so beautiful and desirable because of all the people here, the options he had, he still wanted you so bad. You had security escort you out when you decided to leave the rest of the group because you simply couldn’t take the teasing anymore and needed to get back home.
What you didn’t realize is that every finger you laid on each other during your time at the club was being videoed or photographed. People who were fans that knew he had a ‘mystery girl’ and people who thought they were just witnessing Trent hook up with a random girl were just glued.
You left the club and the familiar lights were back but you were much more intoxicated than when you walked in. Your shirt was no longer neatly tucked into your skirt; it had been bunched up from Trent pulling at it. Your lipgloss was on his skin, the color smeared a little on yours. You walked out first but Trent was right behind you, his arms wrapped completely around your frame, his face pressed into the back of your neck. Having him so close seemed to lower the pressure of the spotlight but it only heightened the noise around your relationship.
Trent wrapped his arms around you protectively, helping you into the car to be driven home. You slid in after Trent opened the door for you and he quickly followed.
It was a bad decision but you two were pretty drunk and you couldn’t help it. You needed him, he needed you. There was a divider between the driver and the back so there was some discretion but not enough to deem the ride’s actions acceptable. Trent’s hand initially was suggestively but innocently on your thigh but minute by minute it seemed to get closer and closer to your core. Your back was arched at the proximity alone. The intoxicating scent of him filled the car and made your heart race faster.
You looked at him with doe eyes, tugging his hand when he kept swiping his fingers closer to where you wanted only for them to drift back down.
“What do you need, baby?” He laughed at your needy expression. He was teasing you and he loved it. Alone in the back of this car felt like a private oasis from a night where you felt a million eyes on you and you couldn’t wait to take advantage of that million dwindling down to just his two.
Finally, after what felt like tortuous hours, actually mere minutes, he snaked his hand under your skirt stroking his fingers over your covered sensitive clit. Your body jolted finally feeling his touch. He moved your panties to the side and he started to rub your clit casually, he was so nonchalant leaning his face into your neck pressing kisses to your burning skin while you were trying to bite back moans silencing your actions. You were whimpering, squeezing his leg trying to remain calm but he was tracing soft circles over your clit making your pussy clench and gush. He dragged his fingers through your folds, humming content at your warmth before dipping two inside.
“So wet,” pushing his fingers in further, curling them, your slick running down his hands, you were trying not to scream from the pleasure.
“Want more, T” you were begging, pulling him into a filthy kiss. It was messy, his tongue in your mouth had you almost unable to hear the squelching sounds of your sopping pussy getting loud. This wasn’t discreet anymore. You were getting closer to the edge and he knew, the smirk on his face grew. You were overcome with a blinding pleasure fluttering around his fingers, before he slowed down. Trent gently pulled his fingers out and licked them clean. You looked at him with clear desperation. Your legs were glistening coated in a thin layer of your sweat under the motorway lights.
“Almost home.” He cooed, pressing a kiss to your temple. You relaxed into his body, spent, making him giggle so he pressed another kiss to the top of your head.
Before you could make it through the front door Trent had grabbed your waist pulling you away. He proceeded to throw you over his shoulder and carried you directly into the house, up the stairs, and straight to your bed before dropping your body onto it.
“Raise your arms in the air, baby” he said, pulling at your top as you sat up. “Gonna be a good girl for me?”
“Mmhm” you couldn’t get out any words you were desperate for him.
“Fuck, you have the prettiest tits, baby.” He groaned now pushing his face against them, licking, sucking, biting on your sensitive skin. You couldn’t compose yourself. You were giggling at the sensation. You were so focused on him. When he pulled away, his plump, pink, beautiful lips were just begging for a kiss so you pulled him down on top of you. Your kiss spiraled into breathy moans, the rest of your clothes peeling off, your bodies pressing into each other, your hands grabbing anything. You were absolutely soaked, he was impossibly hard. The kiss was a mess, you pushed your body further into his. He tasted like heaven, tequila and black cherry. The memory of your warm wet pussy was seared to the front of Trent’s brain, the thought of being inside made his cock twitch.
“Oh my god” you moaned, feeling him twitch as he pulled away to bite the sensitive skin on your neck, sucking harshly. His teeth grazed against your skin. A whimper fell from your lips as you rolled your hips into him. The things coming out your mouths varied form insanely lude to the most romantic things you’d ever heard. You were so in love with him, all of him. The alcohol blurred your vision, it felt so good, you couldn’t really process what was going on other than the sensation of his skin on yours, you were saying things you probably shouldn’t, things you needed to have proper discussions about, but you couldn’t stop them and neither could he.
Trent thought he was going to black out from how hard he was. He needed to fuck you now, he couldn’t even manage foreplay. This kiss, your body, it was going to break him. He flipped you over harshly. He grabbed your waist pulling you back to him.
“Please,T” You whined, arching your back begging for him to fuck you. His brain was short circuiting. You had drunk sex plenty of times but something about this was different. It was a familiar feeling, the one like he needed to take care of you, that you were his. He couldn’t work out what triggered him to be so possessive when you were with him the whole night but he felt compelled to fuck you so roughly as if you had done something wrong.
“You’re the hottest girl I’ve ever seen in my life” Trent cooed his hand coming to pull your hip the other stroking his cock. He dragged the tip of it down your ass, tracing it over your skin, smearing pre-cum all over you before he aggressively spread your ass to rub his cock up and down your pussy. “Oh my- Fuck.” You were soaked, you couldn’t take the waiting anymore. Trent wanted to fuck you so hard you were seeing stars but his brain did a 180 seeing your face turn a little. He could see a blush hue over your cheeks, a little pout and he just fell apart. You pulled your body up to his pressing your back to his chest because he was taking so long. He wasn’t going to do that now, he wanted to make love to you. you’re his baby, his best friend, the love of his life, he needed to be gentle with you. You leaned your head back onto his shoulder, your hand coming to grab his throbbing cock to tell him he needed to hurry up. He groaned when the other hand grabbed onto his hair and pulled.
It felt like absolute heaven when he slowly eased his cock inside you. You were so wet, warm, your walls squeezed his huge cock encasing him in warm velvet. He presses his lips into your hair quieting his moans as he pulled in and out of you. He kept his face buried there, eyes shut, relishing in the feeling of you.
“I love you” his words were muffled as your ass recoiled against his cock. You could feel your orgasm building.
“T...” you whined. “I-I love you” you could barely breathe. His gentle warm and comforting hands guiding you through the movements. It was so languid it felt like it was in slow motion. You had never felt so good in your life. You couldn’t stop yours eyes from trying to flutter closed.
“You’re so close aren’t you, baby? I can feel it.” He moaned as you squeezed him tight making it harder for him to pull his cock in and out. He hit a spot he never had before so deep that the invisible rubber band snapped inside you. Your walls pulsated around his cock as you came. Your legs felt like jelly, pleasure radiating through you as Trent continued to bounce you up and down. Your slick ran down your thighs covering his cock and your ass, it was a mess. Everything was a sticky mess and he loved it, he loved you. You thought you blacked out momentarily from the feeling. Tears started streaming down your face. You collapsed onto the bed, feeling so needy and overwhelmed as he continued to fuck you. Trent couldn’t process how you looked as you unraveled, prolonging your orgasm and he continued to hit so deep inside. Even his dirtiest, hottest wet dreams about you could never measure up to the real thing. You were so fucking beautiful to him, your pussy perfect, made just for him, squeezing his cock he knew he wasn’t going to last much longer when he heard you start to speak again.
“Gonna make you a daddy” you moaned being compelled to grind your ass back into his cock.
You both heard it. You couldn’t process what you just heard yourself say, you had no idea where that came from. You felt weird, like you actually meant it. Trent's brain shut off. That was it for him. Something broke. His strokes got harder and faster rapidly. You were so shocked but you knew that telling him to slow down would be pointless. The change in his behavior didn’t go unnoticed so now you were interested in what he thought but your interest was overtaken quickly by your pleasure.
Trent controlled your body and you let him. You liked it this way, he knew you liked it this way. You both felt so fucking good, nothing could ever compare to this feeling. He was so deep inside you that all he could think about was filling you up. He pulled your hair to press your body further into his aggressively. He bit his teeth down into your shoulder, unable to handle the feeling that was approaching. His mind had completely gone when your drunk self decided to push this further.
“Gonna cum inside me, get me pregnant?” You mindlessly whined begging for it.
“Fuck Fu-fuck Y/N, oh my god baby.” He couldn’t breathe. He wanted so badly to keep eyes open but he couldn’t handle the sensation. “Make me a daddy, be a good girl and take all of it f’me” he mumbled when you could feel his load pumping into you filling you past full. Some of his cum leaking out as he continued to thrust into deliriously. “Is this pussy gonna get pregnant for me?" You were on another planet, so you nodded, unable to hear the words he was babbling. The smile that appeared on his face was so genuine he was in utter bliss. He slowed completely, holding you so tight to his chest you couldn’t breathe. You turned your head back to try to see his face. His pupils were completely blown out, getting you pregnant still on the forefront of his brain. His heavy body laid on top of yours and you felt a wave of emotions hit you. Coherent thoughts finally were coming back to Trent and he was in the same boat. Were either of you supposed to acknowledge that you said you wanted to get pregnant? He rolled himself off you laying leading up to the ceiling, his chest heaving. Neither of you said anything but he pulled you to him. He didn’t know what to say but he didn’t want you to feel like he wasn’t with you. Your sweaty bodies stuck together when you nuzzled into his neck, kissing his skin softly. He sighed tilting his head to the side for you to trail more kisses up his neck, your hand coming to scratch gently at the nape of his neck. He broke the silence first.
“I want to wake up with you like this. You look so beautiful just like this,” his hand stroked slowly over your glistening cheek as you finally made eye contact for the first time. He kissed the top of your head.
“Never gonna let you go,” you muffled into his skin, cuddling closer to him. What had just unfolded wasn’t exactly anything you hadn’t heard before but the manner at which you were having sex and the way it was acted on felt like it was a genuine thought. Not some kink, you, he, actually might’ve wanted this and that thought was way too scary to bring up right now. You both could feel the pressure. Trent was trying to figure out the same thing. If either of you had any energy left you would’ve mustered up some courage to talk about this but instead he whispered into your hair a long ramble of words that answered if he wanted this or not. You couldn’t remember how much he drank tonight so you couldn’t tell if he maybe was just drunk. He was promising you the world, telling you all about the perfect life that laid in store for you in the future, gushing over the perfect life you two were living now. The life he depicted for you now was the one that he had already confided in Tyler. Sure, he was buzzed, high on adrenaline, fucked out of his mind, but this wasn’t something he was making up on the spot. You didn’t know any of that but it was true nonetheless.
“My T…” you cooed playing with a little piece of his hair till you fell asleep. Trent practically melted at the way you clung to him, curled up… filled with his cum.
•
Thank you for continuing reading! Comment or message what you think of the chapter / series … 🤍
Next Part - Chapter 17 xx
#trent alexander arnold#trent alexander arnold x reader#trent alexander arnold imagines#you’re mine fic
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Suddenly remembered that when I was 16 my parents paid for drivers lessons (I never got my license) and my father had taken me out a few times to practice by this point
And my driving instructor took me out, stopped the lesson early and we had this conversation:
Him: does your dad take you out to practice?
Me: yeah
Him: ...is he a cop?
Me: no but he used to be
Him: ok that explains it. I don't think I can teach you in the car because you are too scared and anxious with me. I am going to get my wife to take you for further lessons and your mom should take you out for any further practice
I did do a lot better with the wife and my mom flat out refused to take me to practice and I never finished my lessons with that company and never got my license
Which didn't matter because I live in the UK now and wouldn't trust myself to drive but still that conversation says a lot
And yeah my dad did traumatise the crap out of me while "teaching" me how to drive (and by taught i mean he screamed at me the entire time about how I'm going to get pulled out is the car and shot for being stupid in a road rage incident)
The teacher also said "cops are the worst drivers and they always mess up their kids when teaching"
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The massive, raging hard-on the UK currently has for the age 25, not to mention that it's based on a misrepresentation of a study on brain development, is soooo sinister. First the cass report, now petitions to impose extra rules on driving in under-25s. Twenty-five. Like, even if it was based in good faith on safety, why not propose it within the bounds of how recently since getting a provisional license, etc.? Why does age have anything to do with it, if it's to do with experience and training? It's transparently based on an image of young people being irresponsible and underdeveloped, a viewpoint propagated by groups who see young people as a political threat. I would not be surprised if the ultimate fantasy is to increase the voting age to 25.
#t.#old enough to go to war but not old enough to drive a car after midnight#give me a fucking break#uk politics
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punkflower hcs bc i need to see more of them being cute teen boys together.... like, playful and creative and stuff
looong long wall of text under the cut (no nsfw)
♡ miles and hobie definitely exchange art often, even collabing on some punk zines and graffiti pieces occasionally. hobie also makes mixtapes on cassettes and slaps a million stickers on them just for his bf. miles appreciates the kind gesture but reminds hobie that he doesnt have a cassette player. "yet," hobie tells him with a wink :)
♡ miles draws a million little doodles for hobie on scrap paper, post it notes, hobie's gear, hobie himself. ofc hobie loves them all, esp when he gets to go home with his arms and chest covered in stars, cartoons, graffiti, and hearts
♡ miles is a lot more shy about dancing in public than hobie is, but whenever they manage to have any downtime at all hobie will wrap his arms around miles and sway them around. if music is playing anywhere, hobie will bop to it and get miles to join in
♡ hobie's love language? touch. any kind, anytime, anywhere, for any reason. words of affirmation come next
♡ miles' love language? quality time, and he's big on kissing. hobie isnt much of a kisser but loves his sunflower just the same, and does not complain at all when miles places little kisses on his hands, ears or his back
♡ sometimes hobie will be a lil mean to miles just as a flirty thing. just usual teenage boy stuff like kicking miles' sneakers, manspreading to get into his space if they're sitting anywhere together, using his height to bully miles into a corner away from everyone so they can flirt some more, crashing into miles on purpose just to be annoying
♡ anytime they get to go on multiverse missions together they somehow manage to get into the craziest shenanigans. breaking into a zoo to stop a villain from mutating the animals, saving a group of schoolkids on a field trip from a killer robot (?), one time hobie even drove a runaway car to stop it from crashing right into jamaica bay and miles was scarred for life
hobie tries to control the car as he haphazardly swerves it around pedestrians and barely manages to miss a group of elderly people.
miles clings onto his seat for dear life. "HOBIE!! you're gonna kill us man, where'd you get your license from!?" he yells.
hobie scoffs. "license?! i said i could drive, mate, i aint mention nuthin' 'bout no license!"
♡ hobie's universe is set in the 1970's and living in a dystopian police-state means it's too risky to bring back a phone with him, so he's often left out of spiderkid groupchats. miles still tries to keep him up to date on the latest memes and inside jokes though. they also have their own inside jokes too
♡ hobie wouldn't bring a smartphone with him anyways since he's so mistrusting of tech in general. video games, laptops, and "smart" tech mystify him, and smart watches? forget about it. when miles gets one for christmas one time, hobie clowned on his bf so hard the watch was never seen again
♡ that being said, they love exchanging music often so the only piece of technology hobie ever brings back to his dimension is an ancient half-busted ipod (it was probably rio's at one point) filled with music miles managed to download for him that week. spiderman-ing and living as a homeless teen means hobie doesn't get much time to explore genres outside of the UK punk scene and listening to brand new genres is often a trip! hobie finds out he loves drum n bass, grindcore, industrial techno, UK drill, deep house and 90's hip hop
♡ hobie gets miles to make him cool posters for whatever venue he plans on (or doesnt plan lbr) playing at every now and then
♡ rio LOVES hobie. hobie is the perfect gentleman (gentlespider?) around her and often tries to help her around the house when he can. miles... does not enjoy how much his mom favors his partner. jeff is also not so crazy about this smart-mouthed punk
♡ miles and hobie absolutely swap clothing as often as possible, with hobie "borrowing" miles' clothes more often. miles' parents keep commenting on how much of a rockero he looks with all the punk stuff and hobie never returns clothes without having altered them in some way (pins n bits everywhere, a mysterious rip or two here n there, pinned-up sleeves, etc)
♡ miles is absolutely horrible at cooking and feels left out when he sees hobie helping his mom in the kitchen. he desperately tries to learn, but it's a wonder how he hasnt sliced his fingers off yet trying to peel and cut platanos so they can make tostones
♡ for a person who's built like a lamppost, hobie is shockingly graceful with his movements. he always slips around a room like a cat and miles is so jealous of that. long gangly limbs should be a deterrent from moving like That and yet here he is, practically pirouetting around miles for fun
♡ which is a total TRIP when they go out swinging around a city. once the mask is on, every movement hobie makes is chaotic, frantic and unpredictable. spiderpunk and hobie are very different people sometimes
♡ rio often points out hobie's thinness as a typical hispanic mom does ("jóven, pero tu 'ta tan flaco, hobie honey come eat! i have leftovers here!") and miles also agrees that hobie could eat a lil more too. he is always sneaking bits of food into hobie's pockets or bags, saving fries and last slices for his partner. sometimes hobie brings home armfuls of tupperware filled with caribbean food back to his boat
♡ in return, hobie is like a magpie and brings back shiny gifts for them, some handmade stuff too. miles' drawers and nightstand are filled with jewelry, bottles, knickknacks, and other handmade accessories. his walls are filled with collages and zines hobie makes for him and rio bought frames for some of the pieces he makes her
♡ the first person to say "i love you" was miles, but by accident. after realizing it, he was nervous as hell worrying that hobie would clown him to death since he didnt seem like a big romantic. instead, hobie went nuts about it in his own hobie way, writing lyrics about miles' face when he said it, doodling them together more often, teasing miles about it often but lightheartedly. he flaunts miles' love whenever he can
♡ miles has a lethal puppydog face and he KNOWS it! one 🥺 look and hobie immediately folds and gives miles whatever he wants. but not before hemming and hawing about it first, playing up his hesitation just to make miles laugh
♡ speaking of laughter, hobie does Thee Most just to see his bf laugh or smile. he will always goof off in the bg, crack jokes every 2 secs and pretend to get hurt sometimes. hobie is naturally sarcastic and goofs off in general anyways but around miles he dials it up to 200
♡ hobie tries to get miles in on the whole anarchism thing but 1. the texts and manifestos from his dimension are different than miles' and 2. miles is a teen boy. he doesn't know anything about the theory of alienation or effective mutual aid and won't really care at the moment. "mm, you'll learn all 'bout it soon enough, though... eventually," hobie muses
♡ miles is not as big on pet names as hobie is. hobie has like 24984 nicknames for miles but miles mostly sticks to just calling his partner by his name. one day during history class tho a lightbulb moment happens, and when they meet up again miles is excited
"hobie!! guess what, i really got it this time. i have a nickname that i know you're gonna love!"
"spill," hobie says as he throws an arm over miles' shoulders.
"so you always call me sunflower all the time, right? and your name is ho... bee. get it? so i was thinkin' i'm gonna call you 'honey bee' now. y'know, you're not the only one who's got corny ass nicknames! it's good, right?"
hobie has to fight not to grin like a jackass
♡ hobie's sleep schedule is atrocious so whenever miles can manage it, he tries to wrestle his partner into any bed and tucks him in. hobie is touched that his sunflower cares so much about him ♡
♡ miles almost never gets permission to sleep over other friends' houses but on the rare occasions he does, he leaps into portals and goes to visit hobie in his dimension. his fave part of New London is hobie's boat, bc they set up a big hammock for them to lay in, feeling the sway of the boat and letting it lull them to sleep. not to mention that the boat itself is totally badass, and hobie more often than not encourages miles to cover it in graffiti
♡ hobie lowkey (but highkey) loves when miles gets a little bossy, forceful or stern. he loves ribbing miles about it (the "ill do it, but not cuz you told me to" line in mumbattan was a total joke from hobie btw LOL) and saying corny shit in response to a demand, but he loves seeing miles being confident and calling the shots every once in a while. it makes him proud
♡ if they can, miles and hobie try to gather up as much food as they can and take it over to the F.E.A.S.T. that's in hobie's dimension. miles meets hobie's "family" there and gets to know the community, which feels so much more tight-knit and welcoming than Visions. once miles gets over the major jarring differences between his world and hobie's, he finds he LOVES New London
♡ miles and hobie teach each other slang from their countries and time periods, you can't change my mind. miles walks around saying shit like "bloody 'ell" and "septic" all the time. the one time hobie said "deadass" completely unironically, all of the spiderkids DIED laughing
♡ miles learns that EVERY spider is a total dweeb in some way shape or form. even hobie! hobie's awkwardness comes out when theyre in big groups of people. hobie is oddly comfy with performing in front of crowds but when he's invited to parties and tries mingling, it's so... sooo awkward. miles secretly rejoices when he finds out hobie's weakness
♡ i'm an adhd hobie truther and i hc that miles buys hobie the weirdest fidget toys he can get his hands on. along with his switchblade, jewelry, and whatever he stole that day, hobie carries various different fidget toys in his vest to keep boredom at bay
♡ hobie definitely writes songs for miles but takes a very very very long time to actually admit it. miles finally finds out when one of hobie's songwriting notebooks falls open when hanging out in his boat, and hobie comes clean about it. with miles' encouragement tho, hobie makes the decision to add some of those songs into the usual setlist his band performs
♡ if miles ever has time, he tries to attend whatever gig hobie and his band has going on. he loves to see hobie perform on stage, his energy and stage presence is always electrifying
#mine#across the spiderverse#punkflower#miles morales#hobie brown#stupid ass tumblr posted my 1st draft completely randomly while i was in the middle of writing this#so uh if theres any mistakes its cuz i had to rewrite ALLLL of this in my notes app#hope yall enjoy tho ♡#i am relatively new to this fandom.... kinda? well specifically punkflower#so if these hcs are basically fanon i wouldn't know lol i just skimmed the tag on tumblr recently#im going purely off of Vibes and movie/comic canon#ive seen some good takes in the tags as well and those inspired me too!!#so ye hehehe#these 2 are giving me brainworms my god i havent even written hcs for my other OTP#i should.... probably get started on that since i kinda had fun writing this!#and uh if theres mistakes you noticed at all i also wrote most of these while.... zooted as well. so. yeah lol#spiderverse
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Quick question, are omegas allowed to drive cars or really vehicles? If they were do you think the 141 boys would let mega drive? Anyways have a good day/night!
Yes!! They can drive and get licenses (with their parents' or alpha's permission of course). So yes, 'mega could learn how to drive. I'd imagine she could if she had to, as she probably was learning around the time she presented. I think the guys would re-teach 'mega how to drive (would be re-teaching since she's in the UK and everything is backward from how she learned). Johnny volunteers, but John assigns himself to do it.
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Logan Sargeant is a silly little guy
@vii-tto idk why but it wouldn't let me tag you. Hopefully you see this. also @spell-of-the-rain i added things if you want to check out 75-87
But here's the list of things i know/want to know about logan sargeant
Favorite Actor is Brad Pitt
Favorite Movie is Wolf of Wall Street
Favorite food is a hamburger
Has a boat and often goes deep sea fishing
Lived in London since he was 15
Lose Yourself by Eminem is his favorite hype up song
Is a Dolphins and Heat fan
Enjoyed “No Man, No Cry” by Jimmy Sax
Drinks iced lattes with oat milk
Pumpkin spice lattes?? Edit 12/16/23: No
Has been to Wimbledon
Knows what cricket is
Has a rescue dog named Coco
Also enjoys hockey Edit 11/1/23: Supports the Florida Panthers NHL team and has gone to at least 1 of their games with his friend Kyle Kirkwood
Does he follow college football?
What does he think of the new Miami head coach?
If not for motorsport, does he think he would have gone pro in a different sport, and if so which one?
Enjoys listening to 50 Cent (is also a big rap fan in general)
Can he speak any other languages with any degree of familiarity?
Cannot draw
Can make a sandwich (other foods?)
Rates all food from one bite and with weird decimals
Gritty-ed in his f1 car
Makes the Williams photographers look like they take good photos
Does he have an English or a Florida driver’s license? And does he still have US citizenship even though he lives in the UK? What kind of visa is he on?
Top three female athletes? (Serena Williams, Simone Biles, and Megan Rapinoe are all acceptable answers)
Collects Aussies and Kiwis for friends
Does he like the snow? Prefers the heat but does he like snow?
Does he like Missy Elliot? (Requirement)
“Basic Halloween Bitch”
Calls people “mate” but in an American accent which will never stop being funny
Eye Crinkles™️
Does not have a set eye color he’s just too mystical for that
Has never been to a concert (presumably too busy with racing)
He can swim, he can drive, but can he ride a bike? Edit 11/15/23: He can indeed ride a bike
American commercial cars or European ones?
Has an older brother but is like an older brother to Benny’s kid
Likes marshmallows
Does not like black beans
Did not think apple could be chips
Knows how to sail??
Knows how to golf
Can paddle (required for any F1 driver)
Lost the F3 championship in 2020 bc of a DNF in the last race
Can he sing??
Does he drink energy drinks? Red Bull or Monster?
He and Duracell are passionately making out
Blush is very pretty
Wears a lot of baseball hats
Somehow beat jet lag (expat king)
Mostly spends his nights in but he has some nights out (presumably very interesting ones)
Has an iPhone with a blue case
He looks very pretty in blue
His eyes are sometimes blue
Blue=fav color?? Edit 11/6/23: favorite color is Ocean blue (credit to @spell-of-the-rain)
Pretty insecure (armchair diagnosed anxiety)
Close with his brother and parents but maybe not his extended family?
Is Florida State his college team?? (Worst thing a man can be is a Florida St fan) Edit 12/16/23: believing that FSU got screwed over this year is acceptable
Did he graduate high school??
Did he ever consider going into NASCAR or did moving to Europe at a young age kind of set in stone his path towards open-wheel racing?
Hair is blond/dirty blond
Does he vote in American elections?? (If he supports RonD I cannot stan)
Burger Sauce™️
Logan Hunter Sargeant, certified Frat Bro, most American man ever
Has seen peaky blinder and presumably stranger things
Knows how to carve a pumpkin but has not celebrated Halloween at home in a bit
Possibly dating some instagram model
Caused $4 million in damages, gets payed $1 million a year, and supposedly brings in $30 million in sponsors
Key phrases: “Locked in”, “Bam/Boom”, “Done and dusted” Additions 11/1/23: "Oh hell yeah", "I think you're a little lost here, Chief". Additions 11/6/23: “Yeh” (gets quieter throughout the word (how it’s one syllable??)), “on the bounce” (credit to @spell-of-the-rain i believe)
Joined the Williams Driver Academy in 2021
Got stuck in F3 bc he didn’t have the money to move up
Driver for Carlin in 2022
Former teammates include Liam Lawson, Oscar Piastri, Frederick Vesti (Edit 11/6/23: Max Fewtrell possibly?)
DOB: December 31, 2000
5'11
Had a giveaway for gloves he used to win an F4 race on Twitter in 2017 and both Lando Norris and Max Fewtrell replied
Originally his number was 3 but he switched to 2 for F1 (to much fan consternation who thought he had so many better options)
Childhood best friends with Kyle Kirkwood, a current Indycar driver
Logan's older brother Dalton raced in NASCAR until 2018
Did a commercial for Sport23
Does not have cowboy boots as of COTA 2023
Born in Ft. Lauderdale, Florida, USA
lived in Switzerland from 14-15(?)
knows the conversion rate for a kilometer
is taller than a tuna fish
Podiumed at the Macau Grand Prix in 2019
Won the CIK-FIA championship when he was 14 Additions as of 11/1/23
Loves waffles but they are not his favorite dessert
Very patriotic (oh hell yeah)
is the first American F1 point scorer in 30 years and the first one to score on home soil since 1989
Went to see the Nets in NYC (but would have preferred to see the Knicks)
has a custom Miami Dolphins jersey with his last name on the back
Claims to know all the lyrics to "Ice Ice Baby" (credit to @formulaaone) (Edited 11/6/23)
Additions as of 11/6/23:
Under the same talent agency as Alex Albon
Has the same manager as George Russell
George Russell was his mentor coming up
Went to a catholic private school (credit to @wenevrknew)
Does not like fish? (Credit to @spell-of-the-rain)
He runs weird (in my opinion as he reminds me of my brother when he was 12 (he ran very strangely))
Karted in Las Vegas when he was a kid
Can he drive a stick shift? (Alex believes he cannot)
Enjoys video games
Refers to his car as “she”
Knew how to attach a visor to his helmet prior to February(? Could’ve been March but before the season) 2023
Additions as of 12/16/23
Broke his arm in a 2014 German Karting Championship when Marcus Armstrong took him out at T1 (credit to @spell-of-the-rain )
Has gotten his head eaten by the Golden Knights mascot
If he could have any superpower, he would like to teleport
Has never flown a drone
Favorite racing movie is Talladega Nights (sad Mater noises)
Does not trust other people to drive him
Would rather sleep in then get up early
Considers himself fairly organized
His mother makes a very good sweet potato casserole
Got his habit of worrying from his mom
“Santa’s Little Helper”
Driving for Williams Racing Formula 1 Team in 2024
Got out qualified by his teammate every race of 2023
#logan sargeant#formula 1#only one other person asked for this and they dmed me#but i'll make a post anyway#this is also an in progress list#so feel free to add stuff#logan lore list
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Vent about disability and driving (mostly about narcolepsy & driving):
For the longest time, I didn’t have the desire to drive because I was terrified at the idea. And when I realised I also related to the symptoms of narcolepsy and saw that it makes driving potentially dangerous, I hung onto that as my reasons for not wanting to drive — I used it as an excuse of sorts, despite not being confirmed to have it. (ADHD applies to this too.)
But recently I decided that I wanted to learn to drive. I watched videos that were educational about driving, I looked into cars and found the specific kind of car I would want, I calculated how much it would all cost and set up a budget. I was so freaking excited, even though I was also still nervous. The idea of being able to go where I wanted when I wanted was appealing. To have my own little space in my car and to decorate it to suit me. To stop being a burden on others for transport and getting places on my own.
But then the topic of my health came back up. I had a tilt table test this week that was positive for POTS, and without even prompting it, two people in my family separately asked whether it would impact my driving in any way. The answer was no — my POTS very rarely (if ever) makes me pass out, so that’s not an issue. But then it got me thinking about the issue of health and its effects on driving. In the UK, conditions like ADHD are ones you have to report to the DVLA (Driver and Vehicle Licensing Agency), but only if it impacts your driving. But for a condition like narcolepsy, you are told to stop driving immediately and report it to them. You’re not permanently banned from driving — your doctor can clear you — but it’s one of the few conditions I’ve seen listed on their website that requires you to report it and stop driving.
Suddenly my dreams of owning a cute pink car, listening to my own music and having such freedom was crushed. I felt so upset and still am because of how much more my health impacts me than I thought. If it was just about the driving, so be it. But it feels like so many people already disapprove of me not working and not driving. I just wanted to claw back this one thing to prove that maybe I could have an ounce of independence and competence. But no. Now I have to keep dealing with people who think I’m lazy and unwilling to try to be better because my stupid health makes me utterly useless.
And I can’t even definitively say I have narcolepsy, so I can’t even say to people “I have a health condition that makes it dangerous for me to drive” because I am not diagnosed. Instead it would be something like “I might have a condition that makes it dangerous to drive, so I’m not bothering to drive in case I have this very rare condition.” Maybe I don’t even have it, but I’ve seen so much advice to not risk it until you’re potentially diagnosed an in treatment because being tired is as bad as being drunk, and I even though I often invalidate how tired I am, it could be super dangerous. I could potentially hurt or kill someone if I really do have narcolepsy.
I just feel so useless and pathetic. So many people my age drive. They work. They go out with friends. They’re dating. And me? I can’t do anything. I have to rely on other people for mental and physical support because my mind and body don’t work properly. I just…I wanted to be able to do something that felt like a step towards autonomy and independence, even if it was as simple as being able to drive. And it hurts that I also know that no one irl will understand this. They’d just say “well maybe you can try X” or “you don’t even know if you have X.” I told my mum I was planning to hold off for a bit while I get answers from the sleep doc, and she told me that I won’t be a dangerous driver and to just do it.
I just…why. Why is this my life.
#disability#disabled#physically disabled#physical disability#chronic illness#chronically ill#narcolepsy#vent#nagichi talks
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