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#where she introduced herself to me...
lunarblue21 · 2 years
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It has just now hit me - I'm rereading Dickens' A Tale of Two Cities - that there is a lot of Madame Defarge in the Scarlett's character concept/personality as well.
Bonus points for Cities to also have a character named Sydney in it as well! However, unlike Ice Age's Sid, Sydney Carton is a selfish man who grows beyond his selfishness out of love for both Charles Darney and Lucie Manette.
Sid the sloth wishes he could be as admirable!
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justworthlessreblogs · 3 months
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i'm going insane about ciel kirahoshi again
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linabirb · 6 months
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i've updated my pinned and added some headmate tags btw! i might add more in the future in case anyone else wants to post something or use this blog. hopefully my pinned doesn't look too weird hdjsksks.
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absensia-archived · 9 months
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right, so on the one hand, the results of that "does charlotte have a soul or not" poll would be a punch to the gut for char ( it was a NO majority ), but on the other hand, what would make her happy is to see . . . ( that is, what I'm noticing ) is how over the years, more of you guys are having your muses refer to her as "char." it's such a small detail, but it's so neat to see what was essentially shorthand only used for her in ooc context gradually begin to show up more often in actual threads / ic - dialogue.
#I'm just surprised it's changed to the point where it /is/ noticeable.#There was a point where “char” really as what she was called only in ooc context#Otherwise it was either Charlotte or no name mentioned at all#Which makes sense seeing as she doesn't introduce or even refer to herself as Char . She /never/ does#(She doesn't stop people who get her mixed up and consistently call her the wrong name either)#(But that's besides the point)#Which means that to call her Char... you first have to RETAIN that Charlotte's her name#Then I suppose you'd also have to /know/ her well enough to get the feeling that Char suits her as a nickname#(ie. as opposed to charlie/lottie or keeping to the full name Charlotte)#and FINALLY you'd have to be /comfortable/ !! enough to actually call her by that nickname ... not out of convenience but /bc/ it suits her#like I said - it's just this minuscule detail but it's cool to see from a writing perspective#especially to come out of collaborative rp writing#it's the whole /we/ know her as char but the characters don't unTIL they decide to and it's got that:#“my name is so-and-so but my friends call me this-and-that”#EXCEPT char would rarely if /ever/ think that she'd actually be able to assert smth like that aside from being coy and facetious about it#More like “I'm Charlotte but The Primordial Void That Created and Haunts Me calls me Charlie”#Anyways! just both me and charlotte squealing and kicking our feet whenever someone refers to her as Char ic#pretty cool pretty cool
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so i was just sort of talking at my sister (as one does with a hyperfixation) about reed's relationship with the royals. about how bb and medusa seem to be pretty close to him (and sue, but i digress), and how even maximus ended up on friendly terms with him when he was an,,, honorary member of the illuminati for a little bit that one time.
and i was thinking, surely, maximus thought of reed as just that annoying guy his brother and sister-in-law talked about sometimes, and helped them imprison max. i don't imagine he thought highly of that guy at all.
and then he ends up in the illuminati, and actually talks to him, and realizes that this guy is also a genius and gets how he thinks and operates. so now he has to deal with thinking "oh no he IS cool" about that guy that helped his brother beat him up a couple years prior
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toestalucia · 1 year
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guhhh i rly enjoyed the lil event story....T_T grans casual speaking....theresa speaking about justice smiling and gran being curious & wanting to see that......allowing her to go on more difficult missions & immediadetly giving her info please ZERO wait. theresa being able to use her skills n learning more through her meetings with the crew.............justice.........mother....................collapses....the entire tea party...T_T uuuuuu captain.................
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thecitadelguardian · 2 years
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cinnamon-notes · 7 days
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i miss this one coworker of mine :c
#shes the first coworker who walked to me to shake my hand and introduce herself and smile at me and include me in her chitchat with other#coworkers and from time to time explaining to me some inner jokes or who the people they had just mentioned were and she was also the one to#tap on my shoulder when our boss was having a bad day and treating everyone poorly and it also was one of my first days there and i was#overwhelmed with work and i really needed a break so she walked to me and tapped on my shoulder and told me to sneak out with her because#it wouldn't be a mad boss to decide whether or not we deserve a break so i followed her and she took me to this wonderful hidden spot full#of cherry trees where no one could see you and where she'd go when she needed a break from work away from coworkers and there she told me#she had cancer and that it was coming back and then i realized how much of a natural i am when it comes to getting attached to people who's#not that obvious that they will stay and there i realized how much of a natural i am to be self centered because once she told me that i#felt sorry for her and i wanted to hug her but i also had a littke thinking about myself and my attachment issues and what is it if not bein#self centered? and after a few days she stopped coming to work ans i was so fucking scared that something najor had happened to her but#nobody would say a thing because im working in a medium sized company where people are religious about other people's privacy so no one#would tell me what was going on and not everyone knew what was going on and one day there was this coworker of mine who was missing her#quite a lot so during coffee break he went all “that's it. that's enough. i need to know what happened to [redacted]. idc you wont tell me#idc you cant tell me. i need to know. she wont answer the phone and im hella scared and she is a colleague but shes also a friend“ and#thats how i found out she was getting much worse and she was basically living in the hospital now and thats how my heart broke yet another#time and thats how im walking to work every day since i found out. wearing grief like a cloak. carrying it around on my shoulders. waiting#for her to come back. wating for her to take me to the cherry trees again.#cinnamon at work
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zincbotted · 7 months
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homestuck is being too good rn
#at the part where doc scratch hits slick with the scrapbook and scatters the pictures everywhere#and you can start clicking through them to check in on several different ongoing moments/conversations#EVERY SINGLE ONE OF THEM IS RUINING ME RN#i correctly predicted vriska's just death it seems. her and the dead john from the first timeline like. showing eachother around. and#even though this version of him never befriended her. he wants to go again. and she introduces herself for real this time#MAN i love vriska a lot i don't know why so many people h8 her. not like she's the only one who murdered smh#another conversation that's wrecking me? davesprite and jadesprite. MAN. the sword. the fucking yellow blood and missing wing.#davesprite makes me insane on a good day and WAH. WAH. everythings ending and he and jade are both irreversably different#and he might be dying again but right now they just wanna both be there together#and the one that fucking#ruined me the most. enough that i started furiously writing character analysis in my notesapp#rose and dave. i noticed too late that things were happening on the top of the page and had to go back a bunch.#saw dave and jade's fight with jack noir#saw him die#The fact that he knew he would.#the fact that he did it because he was supposed to#the freaking. whole character thing with dave where he doesn't want to be a hero and doesn't think he can be. the broken swords.#the dream he was telling rose about where he's stuck dying over and over and over until he flies into the sun and it isn't sacrifice#it's escape.#so rose decides that he can't be allowed to die like that so she goes herself. knocks him out. and dave is still#hashing his words around what he wants to say like always#but he's clearly upset. and he even says. 'i don't want you to die'#because they had agreed that dave would be the one to do it (or so he thought). and dave so strongly believes that this isn't sacrifice.#that it's meaningless and will grant them nothing. he tells rose her death with be pointless. he believed his own would be too#but rose knows better#MAN#why the hell is homestuck so good under all this oughts-era internet bullshit. why in the same conversation there's repeated mention of#fucking#penis and penis adjacents. as well as whoppers. and hot moms. and then there's a fucking 'that's all i fucking do is break swords'#that just reads so Hopeless. UGH
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reasoningdaily · 10 months
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My former U.S. Track and Field teammate Tori Bowie, who was found dead in her home in Florida on May 2, of complications related to childbirth at 8 months pregnant, was a beautiful runner. She was effortless. At the Rio Olympics, I ran the second leg of the 4 x 100 relay. Tori was the anchor. When she got the baton, I remember thinking, “it’s over.” She just accelerated. When she crossed the finish line, I couldn’t wait to run over to her to celebrate. It was her first, and only, Olympic gold medal.
She also picked up a silver (in the 100-m) and bronze (200-m) in Brazil. The next year, at the 2017 World Championships in London, Tori won the 100-m title, earning the title of “world’s fastest woman.” Tori started out as a long jumper. So seeing her thrive as a sprinter was a huge deal. She was just such a bright light, and people were getting to see that.
Tori grew up in Mississippi and had this huge Southern accent. She didn’t take herself too seriously. You felt this sense of ease when you were around her. I last saw her in early 2021, in San Diego, where she was training. She gave me the biggest hug; something about her spirit was just very, very sweet. I felt her sweetness come over me that day.
Tori was 32 when she died. According to the autopsy, possible complications contributing to Bowie’s death included respiratory distress and eclampsia—seizures brought on by preeclampsia, a high blood pressure disorder that can occur during pregnancy. I developed preeclampsia during my pregnancy with my daughter Camryn, who was born in November 2018. The doctors sent me to the hospital, where I would deliver Camryn during an emergency C-section, at 32 weeks. I was unsure if I was going to make it. If I was ever going to hold my precious daughter.
Like so many Black women, I was unaware of the risks I faced while pregnant. According to the CDC, in 2021 the maternal mortality rate for Black women was 2.6 times the rate for white women. About five days before I gave birth to Camryn, I was having Thanksgiving dinner with my family. I mentioned that my feet were swollen. As we went around the table, the women shared their experiences during pregnancy. My cousin said she also had swollen feet. My mom didn’t. Not once did someone say, ‘oh, well, that’s one of the indicators of preeclampsia.’ None of us knew. When I became pregnant, my doctor didn’t sit me down and tell me, ‘these are things that you should look for in your pregnancy, because you are at a greater risk to experience these complications.’
That needs to change, now, especially in light of Tori’s tragic passing. Awareness is huge. Serena Williams had near-death complications during her pregnancy. Beyoncé developed preeclampsia. I hate that it takes Tori’s situation to put this back on the map and to get people to pay attention to it. But oftentimes, we need that wake-up call.
The medical community must do its part. There are so many stories of women dying who haven’t been heard. Doctors really need to hear the pain of Black women.
Luckily, there’s hope on several fronts. Congress has introduced the Momnibus Act, a package of 13 bills crafted to eliminate racial disparities in maternal health and improve outcomes across the board. California passed Momnibus legislation back in 2021. These laws make critical investments in areas like housing, nutrition, and transportation for underserved communities. Further, several pharmaceutical companies are making advances on early detection and treatment of preeclampsia.
Three gold medalists from that 4 x 100 relay team in Rio set out to become mothers. All three of us—all Black women—had serious complications. Tianna Madison has shared that she went into labor at 26 weeks and entered the hospital “with my medical advance directive AND my will.” Tori passed away. We’re dealing with a Black Maternal Health crisis. Here you have three Olympic champions, and we’re still at risk.
I would love to have another child. That’s something that I know for sure. But will I be here to raise that child? That’s a very real concern. And that’s a terrifying thing. This is America, in 2023, and Black women are dying while giving birth. It’s absurd.
I’m hopeful that things can get better. I’m hopeful that Tori, who stood on the podium at Rio, gold around her neck and sweetness in her soul, won’t die in vain.
—as told to Sean Gregory
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pathologicalreid · 5 months
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nicknames | S.R.
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in which you meet the team for the first time, and receive your first nickname
who? spencer reid x fem!BAU!reader
category: fluff
content warnings: reader is referred to as a girl. i have this headcanon where when reid's IQ gets slashed to 60, he'd get so distracted that he'd run on autopilot, hence the willingness to handshake.
word count: 591
a/n: happy finals szn! this fic has been rotting in my brain for weeks and i finally decided to flesh it out. and maybe you should like and reblog this if you enjoy it (no pressure tho)
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You were still filtering through your entry paperwork when the rest of the team filtered into the bullpen. David Rossi, who had helped you land this job in the first place, nodded in your direction before disappearing into his office. “Hey!” Someone called from across the bullpen, “Y/N, right?” Emily asked, setting her go bag in the chair at her desk before making her way over to your desk.
Smiling in response, “It’s nice to finally meet you,” you responded, reaching your hand out for her to shake. It was nice to be in the BAU, complete with a promotion from Special Agent to Supervisory Special Agent.
JJ walked over next, waving, and introducing herself as the communications liaison. “I’ve heard a lot of great things from your old CARD team,” she said, “I’m sure your skillset will come in handy here.”
You nodded in affirmation, “That’s the hope!” You answered, smiling at the prospect of your old team singing your praises.
Next, Derek approached, reaching out his hand for you to shake. Of course, you obliged and grinned at him. Part of you felt like you were meeting celebrities, the BAU was a big deal in the bureau. “Derek Morgan,” he introduced himself, “How long were you with CARD?”
“Five years,” you responded, it was a long time for anyone to deal solely with child abduction, but your team had the best rate in the bureau. Besides, you found the work rewarding.
Morgan’s eyebrows raised in surprise, “that’s impressive.”
You nodded, “Thank you. I’m really looking forward to working with you all.”
JJ looked behind her, “Oh, have you met Garcia?” She asked, peeking around the corner to where the technical analyst's office was.
Glancing down at the cat-shaped stress toy that she had given you when you arrived this morning, you smiled, “Yes, she was the first to greet me this morning. I think I’m just missing Dr. Reid.”
As if on cue, the young doctor walked into the bullpen, he had a worn leather satchel over his shoulder and looked like he might be talking to himself, “Reid!” Emily called over, getting his attention, and causing him to change course, approaching your desk. “Come meet, Y/N.”
He adjusted the strap of his satchel over his sweater before you reached out your hand for him to shake. “Oh, he doesn’t…” JJ began, but her voice trailed off when Dr. Reid shook your hand.
“It’s very nice to meet you, Dr. Reid,” you said, smiling at him. It felt good to know you had finally met the entire team.
He gave a close-lipped smile in return, “Reid is fine, or Spencer.” He said as you each dropped your hands to your sides.
Noticing everyone looking back and forth between the two of you as if you had already managed to do something wrong, you gathered all of your paperwork in your hands, “I should get this to Hotch.”
The rest of the team got the message and started to disperse to their respective desks, Reid’s being adjacent to yours. “Welcome to the team, pretty girl,” Morgan said to you before turning to his own paperwork.
You hugged your paperwork to your chest as if you were protecting it. Quietly, you muttered, “I really hope that nickname doesn’t stick.”
Across from you, there was a short laugh, almost a scoff. “It will,” Spencer responded in the same reverent tone. For a second, you thought it might be a joke, but you could tell by his facial expression that he was serious.
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numinous-scribe · 2 months
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Siblings by trial and choice
So @noir-renard posted a prompt in Haunting Heroes a little while ago that's had me in a perpetual choke hold ever since.
When the Portal ZAPS Danny, he doesn't just get turned into a half ghost; he gets catapulted halfway across the galaxy. So now he's stuck on an alien ship, trying to deal with new powers, and desperately searching for a way home.
And my immediate thought was "How can I make this about Starfire?", from which everything spiraled.
[Click the pictures for better quality!]
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Having assumed that the portal wasn't even supposed to be functional, Danny had absolutely no basis for anything that was happening to him. Not his new look or powers, not for wherever he was, and certainly not for the predicament of where he landed-- A ship he would later come to know as belonging to the slavers known as the Gordanians.
For all Danny knew, he certainly wasn't human anymore, and he might not have even been in the same dimension either; while Earth had been seeing more and more interactions with aliens, he'd never seen any quiet like these, and his parents had said that the portal was designed to view a whole other world.
And that was terrifying! He was Danny Fenton, just fourteen, and so far out of his depth it wasn't even funny. If it weren't for Koriand'r then Danny didn't know how he would have kept it all together.
As it were, Kor'i had already been enslaved for four years by this point. She knew what it was like to suddenly be cut off from everything she'd ever known, and the torment that was awaiting this strange boy that had appeared in a flash of green light. So even though she had nothing to give, Kor'i stuck by Danny's side.
Together, for the next two years, they fed each other hope.
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Naturally, returning to Earth was a big ordeal for Danny, and by proxy for Kor'i as well. Over the two years they spent enduring harsh labor and torture from both their Gordanian captors and the Psions, Danny had confided in all sorts of stories about his home world and vice versa Kor'i about Tamaran. After confirming that he hadn't been transported to another reality, and that this was his Earth, Danny had been so excited to return home and to introduce Kor'i to his friends and family.
But while Earth was still the same, home... was not.
His parents were in jail; not only for their unethical and code violating lab, but because they were so neglectful to the point that minors were able to get into the lab unsupervised and one of them— Danny —was able to access their faulty machine and, presumably, died.
Jazz got picked up by the state, but quickly managed to get herself emancipated and now lived in some other state attending college.
The Manson's moved. Sam was a wreck and not coping well at all; her parents were considering having her committed to an institution for a bit to help her last anyone had heard.
The Foley's couldn't afford to move, so Tucker had to carry on with life as well as he could. He's quiet now, not as verbose and shameless as before, more of a hermit than anything.
And since he's been presumed dead, and can't figure out how to disprove that, honestly, Danny doesn't know how to pick back up where he left off. He can't. Because everything, including him, has changed as well.
But, like she's always done since the moment they met, Kor'i was there for him. And now they have a new family in the Teen Titans as well.
Bonus:
Close ups of Phantom and Starfire. Danny's suit design is a mixture of some of his original concept art and @the-stove-is-on-fire's designs :)
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girlrotterr · 1 month
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But I'm a lesbian!
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ellie x abby x dina x fem!reader a/n: inspired by the movie, "but i'm a cheerleader" !! Did my own little spin on it. (This may have a part two!)
→ Part two! → Part three! → Part four!
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Forced to a camp known as "True Directions," your arrival was no choice of your own. Your parents, upon discovering your sexuality, had made the decision to send you there. As you followed your guide towards the dormitories, someone caught your eye—a girl with auburn hair, casually puffing on a cigarette.
Noticing your presence, the girl glanced up and rolled her eyes. Your guide gestured towards her, prompting her to approach you. Extending her hand, she introduced herself, "Ellie."
"Hello," you responded, your voice betraying your nerves as you shook her hand, noting its soft yet firm grip.
With a sigh, Ellie remarked, "they sent new meat here again, huh?" She took another drag from her cigarette, casting a judgmental gaze in your direction.
"I’m sure to be out of the way," you said, trying to sound confident. "I’ll pass every trial here to get back home."
A smirk tugged at the corner of her lips. “Uh-huh..." she mused. “You’ll be here a while then."
“Ahem," the guide cleared her throat towards Ellie, who responded with an eye roll before retreating to her pink bed.  
"Very well then, I will leave you to unpack your things. This will be your dorm. You will share this space with three other roommates, feel free to report anything back to me," she said, her tall and commanding presence by her bouncing blond hair as she talked.
"Especially anything involving this one," she added, shooting a glance at Ellie. 
"Well," the guide grasped your arms, giving them a squeeze, "welcome to 'True Directions,' we'll fix you right up, dear!”
You gave a hesitant half-smile, trying to hide your discomfort. 
Returning your gesture with a bright smile, the guide nodded happily before leaving, closing the door behind her with a soft click.
Silence. 
Clutching onto your suitcases, the silence became increasingly awkward, and you debated whether to speak up. Should you ask where to put your belongings? But the fear of annoying or bothering Ellie made you hesitant.
Fuck it.
"Um, excuse me, where can I—"
"There," Ellie interrupted, her tone nonchalant as she pointed toward a corner of the room, her gaze still not meeting yours.
Your eyes followed her gesture to an empty white dresser tucked away, starkly different from the others that were already occupied. Making your way towards the dresser, you took in the room once more. The overwhelming femininity was hard to ignore—pink walls, beds, and shelves adorned with stuffed animals. Setting your suitcase down with a thud, you unzipped it, the sound of the zipper echoing loudly in the silent room.
Opening the drawer, the scent of brand new furniture wafted across your nose, tickling it and nearly causing you to sneeze.
Ellie got up from her bed, pulling open her drawer with a tug. In it were an assortment of items—makeup, hair accessories, and jewelry jumbled together. Rummaging through it, Ellie let out a sharp exhale, finally finding something from the depths of the drawer.
Without a glance in your direction, she held out a ribbon and a few hair clips. "Here," she muttered.
Your eyes widened at the adorable accessories as she tossed them over to you. "Put your hair up or something. It's better not to have it in the way, especially during our routines.”
"Ah, thank you," you expressed, catching them. "Are these.. yours?"
"Yeah... unfortunately," Ellie responded dryly.
With a nod, you started to arrange your hair with the clips.
As you styled your hair, the weight of Ellie's gaze pressed against your back like a physical force. Every subtle movement you made was studied, from the way you lifted strands of hair to the careful twisting of the ribbon around the ponytail. Even the simple act of tucking a stray lock behind your ear felt intense.
What’s this girl's deal?
The intensity of her stare became almost suffocating, leaving your hands trembling slightly as you worked. Despite her focus only on your hair, the sensation of being under her gaze felt like she was peering into your soul.
Finally, Ellie broke the silence with a quiet, husky voice, her words cutting through the tension. "You need a mirror?"
Her gaze remained fixed on you, relentless.
"No," you managed to reply, attempting to be confident.
But the moment her voice echoed throughout the room, heat began rising to your cheeks, and you couldn’t help but hesitate. Her presence felt overwhelming, a mix of nerves, fear, and desire swirling within you, all under her attention.
“Hm..” Ellie replied, seeming more curious now. She uncrossed her arms and slowly walked over to you. You could hear the way Ellie’s footsteps made the floor creak as she walked.
"Hm?" you managed to utter as Ellie closed in on you, her presence surrounding you with every step she took. The breath from her lips brushed against the nape of your neck as she leaned in.
"You're missing a strand," Ellie said, her voice softer than before.
The sensation of her being so close, her breath teasing your skin. You wanted to turn around and face her.
Her closeness was so overwhelming.
As Ellie's hand brushed against your hair, a sharp shiver coursed through your spine, setting your heartbeat into a quick rhythm. Her touch lingered, fingers twirling strands of your hair, as she leaned in even closer, so suffocatingly close. It felt as though Ellie was on the verge of whispering something, her breath agonizingly near-
"Yo, Ellie!"
The tension in the room broke as Dina and Abby burst in, causing Ellie to let go of your hair and step back.
Their expressions shifted abruptly from excitement to surprise as they noticed you. Dina's curious gaze looked over, her head tilting in confusion, while Abby's cold stare pierced through you.
"You must be the new one," Abby remarked, her tone icy, her eyes never leaving you as if dissecting your very being.
"Y-yeah.. I am," you responded, finally finishing your hair.
Abby simply nodded in acknowledgment, while Dina chuckled to herself.
"Aw, the new girl is all nervous!" Dina's teasing remark was followed by a smirk and a playful wave of her hand. She shifted her attention to Ellie, observing her growing annoyance. Dina seemed to catch on to something, finding the situation amusing.
"Ooooh! Ellie was hitting on ya!" Dina's snickering only added to Ellie's frustration as she clenched her jaw tightly, arms crossed.
Abby, maintaining her silent observation, continued to stare at the both of you.
"Ah! no..she was just helping me with my hair," you replied, attempting to stop the teasing.
"Awh. Is that so?" Dina's teasing tone persisted as she continued to giggle, her gaze towards Ellie who remained annoyed.
Abby's gaze suddenly shifted as she walked towards you, gently pushing a strand of hair behind your ear. Her touch was surprisingly tender.
"There," she remarked softly, a smile gracing her lips, the gesture catching you off guard. It was so unexpected. "You had missed a strand."
Abby looked back at Ellie, a smirk on her lips, her eyes flickering as she made a mocking glance with her.
Suddenly, the camp director barged in, her authoritative voice vibrating throughout the room. "Ladies!" she commanded, making all the girls snap their attention towards the door where the camp director now stood.
Ellie groaned as soon as she heard that familiar voice.
"All of you, get out for morning exercise," the director ordered, her stern gaze scanning everyone. "Now."
With a swift turn, the camp director walked out of the room, the echo of her clicking heels fading as she left. Abby, Dina, and Ellie all groaned in unison, knowing what was to come. They made their way to their designated dressers, preparing to change into their gym clothes.
Amidst the shuffling of clothing, you voiced your confusion. "W-what are we doing?"
Abby scoffed at your question, a smirk on her lips. "Did Ellie not go through the routines and rules with you?"
You shook your head.
"Not surprising," she remarked before chuckling, "she always seems to get distracted-"
“We're doing morning cardio and stretching routines,” Ellie cut in, her voice clear and assertive, pulling out her sports bra and short shorts. “Your gym clothes are in your dresser.”
Abby bit her lip, suppressing a laugh. "Well, there you go.”
You nodded in understanding, “thanks..”
Walking to your dresser, you pulled open the top drawer, revealing a variety of outfits and uniforms, all varying shades of pink. The sight left your head spinning a bit as you realized this would be your life for the next couple of months.
As you began changing, you felt a wave of self-consciousness wash over you. With hesitant movements, you peeled off your shirt and skirt, the fabric slipping from your skin with a soft rustle. All the while, you were aware of Abby and Ellie's eyes lingering on you.
 Abby's gaze, though subtle, was sharply observant, her eyes tracing up and down your body with an almost predatory glare. It was as if she was memorizing every curve and contour. Meanwhile, Ellie's attention was more focused, her gaze lingering on specific areas of your body, like your hips and chest. There was an intensity in her stare, a curiosity that was borderline intrusive.
Slap! 
With a sharp sting on your ass, a sudden jolt of surprise chilled through you, causing you to yelp. "You'll make us late at this pace!" Dina's voice rang out, her arm wrapping around you protectively, shielding you from the view of Abby and Ellie.
"Ah! You're right," you exclaimed, quickly slipping into your gym clothes.
Dina gave you a quick grin before turning her attention towards Abby and Ellie. Squinting her eyes playfully, she shook her head slowly, teasingly disappointed in the two of them. Abby hurriedly looked away, pretending to be preoccupied with tying her shoelaces, while Ellie rolled her eyes.
───
As you and the other girls made your way to the track, you found yourselves walking together in a small group. Ellie and Abby led the way, showing no signs of slowing down despite your struggle to keep up. Meanwhile, Dina’s pace was slower, occasionally glancing at you.
"So, how'd you get caught?" Dina asked slyly, a mischievous look in her eyes.
You turned to look at her, taken aback by the sudden question. "What?"
"You were sent here for a reason," Dina said curiously, making Abby and Ellie turn their heads, intrigued to hear your response.
"I..don't think I want to share," you said, avoiding eye contact from feeling a bit nervous.
"Oh, come on!" Dina urged, now walking next to you, realizing your hesitance. "Don't be so shy. How about we tell you ours? Will that make you less embarrassed?"
"Hmm..alright," you agreed. Maybe learning about their experiences would help get to know them.
Excitedly, Dina clapped her hands together. "Okay, okay! I'll go first." She moved closer to you, her shoulder practically bumping into yours. "I got caught watching lesbian porn."
A snicker escaped Ellie's lips as she tried to hold back her laughter.
Dina shot a playful glare. "You have no right to laugh, El's."
"Doesn't make it any less funny," Ellie retorted.
Dina scoffed and rolled her eyes. "Since it’s sooo funny, you go then."
Ellie's eyes locked onto yours, her voice embarrassed. "I ordered a strap online, and it got delivered to the wrong address. To my fucking neighbor, Seth. Dude went ballistic and sent me here, said I needed to be controlled."
A rush of heat flooded your cheeks as Ellie's words sank in, full of curiosity and intrigue. The mere idea of her wearing a strap sent a flow of sensations that pulsed throughout your body. Your throat became dry trying to visualize it. 
"Ab's! Your turn!" Dina interrupted excitedly, Abby's story was always her favorite.
Abby smirked, turning her gaze towards you. "Unlike Ellie, I got to use my strap," she remarked mischievously.
Ellie groaned at Abby'scomment, clearly unimpressed.
“I got caught fucking my father's assistant nurse with it.”
Dina squealed as she shook your arm excitedly. "Now THAT'S a coming out story!" she exclaimed.
Ellie shot Dina a glare, clearly annoyed by her reaction. With a scoff, she turned her head away, facing in the opposite direction.
Abby, on the other hand, smirked at Ellie's and playfully hit her back. "Aw, it's okay, El's," she said reassuringly.
"Okay, okay, tell us yours now," Dina urged eagerly, her and Abby's curious gazes fixed on you,
“Well..” you began, your hands fidgeting nervously as you mustered up the courage. “My parents walked in on me and my cheer captain…” You hesitated for a moment before continuing “...69’ing on the kitchen counter.” 
Ellie quickly snapped her head back to look at you. Dina and Abby’s eyes widened, completely startled.
“Y-yeah…” you confirmed, meeting the girls' shocked gazes. “Mid-squirt too…”
Ellie’s eyes widened as if they were going to pop. Dina’s jaw dropped, with her mouth slowly curving into a smirk, “You fucking win.”
───
"Alright, ladies," the head director announced, her voice carrying across the track, “forty-five minutes around the track, as per usual. Afterward, we hit the showers in preparation for cooking classes."
"Remember, ladies," she continued excitedly, "these skills aren't just beneficial, they also attract men! It's just another step closer to becoming 'normal'."
The moment the word "normal" left the director's lips, you noticed the collective eye rolls and groans from the other girls. Ellie's jaw tightened as she stared away, grumbling under her breath. Abby crossed her arms, completely unamused, while Dina couldn't help but snicker, lowering her face to hide her giggle.
With a sharp blow of the whistle, the director signaled the start of the morning run.
As you began your laps around the track, you couldn't help but notice the effortless speed and stamina of Ellie and the other girls. They seemed to glide around the track with ease.
Struggling to keep up, your legs began to burn. Your breath came in short, ragged gasps as you pushed yourself onward.
"Hey, you doing okay?" Abby asked.
"Ye..yeah..." you managed to reply between heavy breaths.
Abby arched an eyebrow, clearly seeing through you. "You do know we have about 20 more laps to go, right?"
Before you could respond, a sudden stumble sent you tumbling to the ground. Abby instinctively reached out to help, but her attempt only resulted in her losing her balance, causing her to trip and accidentally pull Ellie down with her.
Ellie hit the concrete hard, her knee taking the force of the fall. Gritting her teeth, she clenched her jaw tightly as pain shot through her scrapped knee. With all three of you on the ground, the sudden scene caused a chuckle from Dina. "Holy shit, you guys fell like bowling pins," she remarked.
"Shit, sorry El's-" Abby began to apologize.
“What the fuck is your problem?!” Ellie yelled, her tone cold as she glared up at Abby.
Abby glared back at Ellie, her expression tense. "What-"
“Watch where you’re fucking going. It’s not that hard,” Ellie snarled, gritting her teeth as she noticed the large scrape on her knee.
“T-that was on me-" you added, feeling guilty for the accident.
Abby suddenly got up, her face contorted with anger as she looked down at Ellie. “I didn’t mean to, I-"
Ellie suddenly stood up too, her height making her have to look up at Abby. “I’m so fucking sick of you trying to assert something. It’s fucking annoying.”
Abby scoffed, “Yeah? I’m tired of your pussy fucking attitude.” She then moved closer towards Ellie, the sudden bump causing Ellie to sway a bit.
Ellie chuckled, tilting her head to the side before locking eyes with Abby. “Pussy, huh?” 
“You are what you fucking eat,” Abby snapped back, her tone sharp.
You got up from the concrete floor, every inch of your body feeling the lingering sting from the sudden impact. “She didn’t mean to, I tripped and-” you tried to explain, but before you could finish, Ellie raised her fist. Her initial target being Abby, who managed to step back just in time to avoid the blow. Unfortunately, you stepped further, positioning yourself between them, but before you could react, Ellie's fist mistakenly met your nose.
“Holy shit!” Dina yelled, her hand covering her mouth in shock.
You felt the impact jolt through your body as you stumbled back, finding stability in Abby's embrace as her arms wrapped around you from behind.
“Fuck, I am so sorry-" Ellie began to apologize, her voice filled with remorse.
“Fucking really?!?” Abby yelled, frustrated as she stepped you to the side. “You fucking hit her!”
“I didn’t mean to!” Ellie yelled back, her tone defensive as she tried to explain herself.
“Didn’t mean to? You punched her!” 
“G-guys, I’m fine-" you said, your voice strained through the pain, attempting to step towards them again, holding your throbbing nose.
“I was clearly trying to punch your bitch ass!” Ellie yelled.
“Oh yeah?” Abby raised her fist, aiming for Ellie, her knuckles clenched as she intended to give her a piece of her mind for hurting you and being such a brat. However, as you stepped in between them once again, Abby's fist accidentally hit you, the impact shocking you and causing a blur in your vision.
“Oh my god!” Dina yelled, her eyes widening in horror as she flinched.
You stumbled backward, the world blurring around you as you tripped over your loose shoelace, your body rushing towards the concrete floor once again, jarring your senses and sending a wave of pain through your body.
Abby took her hands to her chest, her mouth covered in disbelief.
“fuck, fuck, fuck! Are you okay?” Ellie exclaimed, her voice filled with concern as she quickly knelt down beside you.
Your nose was now bleeding, droplets of blood scattering across the concrete floor like raindrops. The metallic tang of blood filled the air, mixing with the scent of sweat. You winced as pain shot through your face, throbbing relentlessly.
“I think my nose is broken…” you managed to say, your words muffled by the blood dripping down your face.
“Now nobody can sit on her face,” Dina groaned.
2K notes · View notes
just-aake · 21 days
Text
Detecting Love
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Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader
Summary: A person with the power to detect lies meets the spy who has been trained to lie her entire life.
Warnings: fluff, light angst
Words: 6169
You have the power to detect lies. 
Now, it’s not exactly strong enough to be a hero, but you can honestly say that it has been useful in your life. 
Sure, it gets annoying at times, but one of the many lessons you’ve learned is to ignore minor instances of dishonesty — white lies or small things like that — since it helps reduce unnecessary confusion or chaos with others.
People lie. That is an undeniable fact of life.
And while one may believe that being able to detect such things is great, the truth is there are times when you find yourself resenting your power. 
Because, of course, everyone experiences moments when they wish that someone important to them isn't lying.
Like when your fiancée tells you she loves you.
There wasn’t really a malicious reason behind why a usually affectionate statement suddenly became so hurtful.
There was no cheating.
There was no fighting.
It was just another one of the many lessons you’ve learned in life.
That sometimes…a truth can also become a lie.
It’s just unfortunate that this lesson happened to you in such a way.
These kinds of moments make you wonder if maybe it’s better that people shouldn’t always know when someone is lying to them.
Then they don’t end up alone, drinking at a bar late into the night, trying to numb the pain of a broken heart.
You let out a heavy sigh as you stare at the pair of rings resting on the bar top, remembering the conversation that ended with one of them being returned to you. 
It was a heart-wrenching discussion where your fiancée confessed her steadily changed feelings for you, leading to the resolution to remain friends. 
And while neither of you is completely at fault for why things ended, you can’t help but blame your stupid power for putting you in the situation in the first place. 
You sigh heavily once more before swiftly downing the glass the bartender had set in front of you.
At least your current attempt to drown your sorrow is going well, judging by how the rings start to blur in your vision.
With a sad sigh, you reach for the rings to put them away, but in your clumsy state, one slips from your grasp and tumbles to the floor.
Just as you move to retrieve it, a hand beats you to it. 
Looking up, you find a red-haired stranger standing before you, offering the ring to you with a charming smile.
She looks familiar but the drunken haze in your brain makes it hard for you to remember where you’ve seen her before.
“Here, you dropped this,” she says, her voice low and smooth.
She’s beautiful and her voice sounds perfect. You think to yourself as you take the ring from her.
She chuckles lightly, “Thanks.”
Oh, did you say that out loud? You must be more drunk than you thought.
The woman offers her hand to you in greeting, and with a confident smirk, she introduces herself.
“My name’s Natalie. Natalie Rushman.”
Immediately, a red aura surrounds her, causing you to roll your eyes and return your attention back to the bar. 
“Liar,” you mutter tiredly as you gesture to the bartender to close your tab, not really in the mood to deal with any more lies tonight.
At the corner of your eyes, you see the stranger give you a slightly impressed look.
Ready to leave, you stand up quickly from your seat.
However, the action makes the room suddenly spin in your vision, causing you to stagger backward. 
A hand steadies you, resting gently on your back, and you unconsciously lean back against her surprisingly strong frame for support.
There’s a soft chuckle near your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.
“Let me try again,” she whispers smoothly, guiding you upright and turning you around to face her.
Offering her hand once more, she reintroduces herself.
“My name’s Natasha Romanoff. I’m here to recruit you to work for the Avengers.”
You blink slowly, trying to comprehend her words through your drunken haze. You wonder if the alcohol is affecting you more than you thought when no red aura appears this time at her words.
Chuckling to yourself, you shake your head in disbelief, unfortunately worsening the pounding in your skull. 
Work for the Avengers? That has to be a lie.
Before you can think about it any further, you feel yourself falling once more, unable to remain upright.
Strong arms catch you, and as your consciousness fades, you see a blurry glimpse of her striking green eyes before succumbing to darkness.
~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~
You wake to the pounding in your head and the bright sunlight streaming through your window. Turning away, you groan into your pillow, remembering that your fiancée – your ex-fiancée – would typically close the curtains before leaving for work.
Now that she’s gone, you’re going to have to adjust to living alone once again.
A cup being placed on the nightstand startles you into sitting up, as you turn in surprise to find the beautiful red-haired stranger beside your bed.
“For your headache,” she explains, placing some medicine next to the cup.
Your mouth hangs open as you struggle to remember the events of last night, some of which are honestly a blur. 
You examine yourself, checking your clothes and finding them unchanged from the previous night, and then you scan your surroundings again and realize in relief that nothing was out of place.
Well, except for the presence of this stranger in your home, who’s patiently waiting for you to gather yourself.
Searching through your drunken memories, you think you vaguely remember meeting her last night. She had mentioned her name was — Nata…? 
“Natalie?” you ask with uncertainty.
At her raised brow, you quickly apologize, feeling bad for not remembering correctly.
“I’m sorry, I can’t seem to remember, but did we…did something happen between us last night?” you ask hesitantly.
Her face twists in genuine sadness and disappointment, causing a panic to run through you as you struggle to recall what could’ve possibly happened between the two of you for her to have such an expression.
“I’m hurt,” she finally says, placing a hand on her chest, “And after you even said that it was the best night of your life.”
Seeing the familiar red aura appear around her at her words, you let out a brief sigh of relief before realization sets in, and you give her a hard glare.
“You’re lying.”
Her hurt expression quickly morphs into an impressed look, and you are slightly startled at how effortlessly she was able to shift her emotions. 
The woman straightens her posture and crosses her arms, adopting a commanding stance that seems more likely her typical demeanor.
“So it’s not just luck,” she remarks, studying you curiously. 
At her words, you quickly rise from your bed in confusion.
However, the action causes you to wince in pain at the pounding in your head. 
Shutting your eyes tightly, you hold your head in comfort and lean lightly on the nightstand for support. 
As you do, your hand brushes against yesterday’s newspaper that you had been reading moments before your ex said those fateful three words that led to the heartbreaking conversation between the two of you. 
When the pain subsides, you slowly open your eyes, catching a glimpse of the front page before doing a double take.
The front features an article about the opening of the new Avenger Compound, including a photo capturing the Avenger members posed in front of the completed building. 
What catches you off guard is the uncanny resemblance between one of the Avengers in the picture and the woman standing before you.
Pointing at her in disbelief, you stammer.
“You’re…,” then, gesturing at the newspaper, you continue, “…her?”
She doesn’t respond to your question but instead nods toward your other room, inviting you to follow.
“Let’s talk,” she says, heading toward your door, then gestures at the medicine on your nightstand. “But drink those first.”
After freshening up in your bathroom, you take a moment to stare at your reflection in the mirror, noticing the remnants of last night’s tears in your slightly puffy, red eyes. 
Sighing, you brush away the depressing thoughts of your failed relationship before taking the medicine and exiting your room.
You are greeted by the sight of your unexpected guest comfortably seated at your kitchen counter, flipping through a magazine with casual disinterest.
“You’re Black Widow,” you say confidently this time, positioning yourself on the opposite side of her.
She closes the magazine with a snap, placing it on the table before clasping her hands atop of it and meeting your gaze.
“It’s actually Natasha,” she corrects you, before nodding at you. “And you’re Y/n L/n.”
“How did you…?”
She holds up a wedding invitation draft, displaying you and your fiancée’s names printed in fine lettering. 
Realizing that she must have been snooping around your things, you give her a disapproving glare, snatching the card from her hand and hastily stuffing it into a drawer.
Feeling a mixture of emotions—irritated, sad, hungover—you turn to the fridge, deciding to make breakfast to give yourself some focus. 
After you retrieve the eggs and other ingredients, you heat the stove before glancing at Natasha briefly, asking, “So, what does an Avenger want from me?”
Out of the corner of your eye, you see her resting her head against her hand, watching you with interest.
“I told you yesterday,” she replies.
You roll your eyes, giving her a deadpan look, knowing she’s aware that you don’t remember.
“Remind me again.”
Natasha gives you an amused smirk, straightening up in her seat. 
“Alright, I’m here to recruit you, more specifically for a sort of managerial position at the new Avenger Compound.”
Furrowing your brows, you question, “Why me? I don't have experience with that sort of thing.”
“But you can tell when someone is lying, can’t you?”
Pausing briefly in your cooking, you contemplate her words and its possible implications. Not many people know about your ability, and you don’t think you did anything to reveal it to the spy who’s currently staring expectantly at you.
So, in response, you shrug, replying as casually as possible. 
“I guess you could say I’m good at reading people…psychology degree and all.”
A silence ensues, broken only by the sizzling of your cooking, until Natasha finally nods, seemingly accepting your explanation.
You breathe a silent sigh of relief, returning your attention to your current task.
But then she pulls out a folder filled with documents and places it on the counter, causing your nerves to rise again.
“Well, you’ve helped solve hundreds of cases with your interviews of the suspects,” she remarks casually, flipping through the folder before glancing up at you through her lashes. 
“100% accuracy rate in the information that you provided to the detectives,” she continues, nodding at you in acknowledgment. “For a part-time profiler, that’s impressive.”
“Thanks,” you respond with a polite smile, but beneath the surface, a hint of suspicion creeps in as you begin plating the meal you made.
Natasha closes the folder with a definitive snap, making you look at her. 
“You could say it’s almost impossible,” she muses, before a confident smirk forms on her face, and she tilts her head at you with a raised brow in challenge. 
“Unless there’s some way you can guarantee that they’re telling the truth.”
Honestly, you should’ve known better than to think that the experienced spy hadn’t already completed thorough research and investigations into you and your powers before meeting with you.
If anything, this was likely just a test for her to confirm what she already knows about your abilities.
Sliding a plate across the counter to Natasha with a pointed glare, you relent, deciding there’s no point in denying it anymore.
“Fine, what do you know?” 
Instead of responding, Natasha’s gaze lingers on the plate before her, a hint of confusion in her expression. 
Her plate holds a fluffy omelette accompanied by a side of crispy bacon and a slice of golden-brown toasted bread.
As she glances back up at you with a questioning look in her eyes, you take a seat across from her, setting down a similar plate in front of you before also placing a stack of fluffy pancakes at the center.
“What’s this?” she asks, gesturing to the meal.
“Breakfast,” you reply bluntly, taking a bite from your plate.
Natasha raises a brow at you, remarking plainly, “It’s noon.”
“Brunch then,” you correct with a roll of your eyes.
Natasha's lips quirk up in amusement, and she shakes her head.
“Thanks, but I’ve already eaten.” 
The red aura appears around her, and with your mouth full of food, you give her a pointed glare.
“Right,” Natasha says in realization, remembering what you can do. She pulls the plate closer to her with a soft thanks. 
The atmosphere that followed was unusual but surprisingly not awkward. Despite being practically strangers, you find yourself slightly comforted by Natasha’s presence. 
If she wasn’t here, you probably wouldn’t have dragged yourself out of bed today after what happened yesterday.
After a moment of eating, Natasha breaks the silence.
“So, how can you tell when someone’s lying?”
Pausing to contemplate your answer, you wipe your mouth with a napkin before responding. 
“Well, when someone lies, there’s always this rush of chemicals that happens in their bodies,” you explain. “It ends up causing the typical indicators — things like fidgeting, sweating, or tone changes in their voice.”
“I didn’t do any of that, yet you still knew I was lying,” Natasha points out.
“No, you're right,” you admit, nodding. “You’re a perfect liar.”
From what you have seen so far, every expression and comment of hers appears genuine and honest, and if it was anyone else, they’d probably believe anything she says.
However, thanks to your ability, you know better. 
Gesturing at her, you clarify, “You still give off the same chemical reactions though, and I have the ability to see that.”
Natasha leans back in her seat, crossing her arms as she processes your explanation.
“It’s mainly visual then,” she concludes before asking curiously. “You don’t even need to hear what they said to know that they’re lying?” 
You nod, ruefully adding, “Yep, my world’s just filled with people glowing red at random.”
“And how long does this ‘glow’ stay around them?”
“Depends,” you reply with a shrug. “Usually not long, maybe a few seconds.”
Natasha hums in interest, tapping her chin, her brows pinching lightly in thought.
You can’t help but smile amusedly at the sight. 
For a person who has such an intimidating reputation, the spy in front of you right now looks kind of cute rather than scary.
After a moment, you break the silence this time.
“So, what’s the job?” 
Natasha’s eyes focus back on you at your question.
“Nothing too complicated,” she assures. “You’ll be in charge of interviewing the new employee candidates and conducting continuous reviews of the current ones.”
“You mean like screening them?” you ask, tilting your head in confusion, already aware of the rigorous and difficult process required to work at the Avengers buildings. 
“Don’t you guys already do extensive background checks before hiring people? Why do you suddenly need me?”
At your question, a charming smile appears on her face, effortlessly shifting her expression like before, though now you understand she’s just hiding her true feelings about the situation.
“That’s confidential.”
You scoff in disbelief and cross your arms.
“You do know that just makes it harder to trust you, right?”
Natasha mirrors your posture, her pretty grin still in place, masking any other emotions.
“Fair point,” she admits. “But to be honest, you should never put your trust in people like me anyway.”
“People like you?” 
“Spies,” Natasha clarifies as she begins to gather her empty plate and utensils. “Which is one of the types of people you’d be looking out for in this position. Their deception skills would be on a similar level to mine.”
You chuckle at that, causing Natasha to pause in her actions, raising a brow at you in question.
“Sorry, but everyone lies, whether you’re a spy or not,” you tell her, standing and taking the empty plate from her with a small smirk. “You’re just slightly better at it.”
A tiny offended look slips through Natasha’s expression at your little jab, her brow furrowing for a brief second.
Your grin widens at the sight of seeing a glimpse of her real self as you turn to place the dirty dishes in the sink.
Natasha quickly regains her composure, moving around the counter to lean back against the table next to you.
“In any case, the decision is still yours. I’ve already confirmed your abilities. It’s up to you to decide if you want to accept.”
At her words, you pause to consider your options. 
A new job working with the Avengers is a great opportunity, but it would be a significant change in your life. 
Then again, you’re already facing a huge change.
Your eyes unconsciously drift to the drawer next to where Natasha is leaning, where the wedding invitation draft remains, and your face twists in sadness at the memory. 
You guess it wouldn’t hurt to add a career change alongside your new relationship status.
At least this way you can still earn a salary while also distracting yourself from the depressing thoughts of your failed engagement. 
“Okay,” you decide, meeting Natasha’s gaze with a sigh, “I’ll take the job.”
“Great, I knew you would be agreeable,” Natasha remarks, extending her hand to you.
A red aura appears around her, causing you to huff and roll your eyes.
You take her hand in yours, giving her a tiny glare.
“Liar.”
~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~
“I don’t remember agreeing to this.”
You say that as you dodge another swing from Natasha, ducking under her arm to get behind her, only for her to twist her body around and deliver a kick that you narrowly block with your arms. 
Still, the impact has you stumbling back.
“Really?” Natasha asks with an innocent tone as she circles you. “I thought I mentioned to you that training was a part of your employment.”
A red aura begins to appear around her, but you don’t have time to comment before she swings her leg at you again. 
You catch it against your side with a small grunt of pain.
Having been a profiler for criminal cases before, you do have basic defense training, and you always believed that you could hold your own against most aggressors. 
At least you used to.
This current fight is making you reconsider your skills.
With her off-balance position, you attempt to throw her to the ground, but Natasha swiftly regains her footing, catching herself on her hands and executing a fluid movement to flip upright. She then bends low, sweeping your legs out from under you.
You land on the mat with a groan, feeling the impact reverberate through your body. Another pained breath escapes you as Natasha expertly pins you down.
You catch the faint red aura fading from her before throwing your head back against the mat with an exhausted sigh.
“You’re such a liar,” you breathe out, your voice tinged with both exhaustion and playful accusation. Closing your eyes, you take a moment to catch your breath.
Natasha's laughter fills the air, resonating above you, her amusement infectious and drawing a small grin from you. You peek open your eyes, watching as she disengages from atop you and heads over to her water bottle at the side.
“I’m a spy. It comes with the job,” she says casually, taking a sip.
“Okay, and I’m basically just HR,” you counter, pulling yourself upright into a sitting position. “So how does combat training fit into that?”
Natasha gestures towards you with a sweep of her hand.
“You need to be prepared to defend yourself if you ever expose someone dangerous and find yourself without backup,” she explains.
“That’s unlikely considering I haven’t even encountered anyone suspicious since I started,” you remark with a sigh.
It's been a month already, and you're starting to question if your presence here is even necessary.
Before you can dwell further on your thoughts, the cold touch of a metal water bottle against your cheek startles you.
Recoiling, you look up to see Natasha holding it out to you.
Raising a brow, Natasha waves the bottle lightly in offer.
You snatch the bottle from her with a tiny glare, but she only smirks in response.
Apart from the new job, the other surprising addition to your life is your budding friendship with the Avenger. 
After the whole recruiting ordeal, you honestly expected to only have passing encounters with her at the compound.
However, to your surprise, on your first day here, Natasha was the one who volunteered to give you a tour of the place, and in the days that followed, the two of you would often share coffee and chat before you had to head off to your respective jobs.
Those regular interactions with her also earned you a fearsome reputation among the other workers, which actually works out in your favor since they’re already nervous by the time you call them in for a review. This way they are more likely to slip up and reveal anything they may be hiding.
But, like you said, you haven’t found anything substantial yet.
With a heavy sigh, you pull your knees to your chest, resting your forehead against them, feeling the weight of failure bearing down on you.
Then you hear Natasha plop down beside you.
“Back when we met, you asked me why we needed you,” she begins.
Curious at her words, you turn your head slightly to glance at her, waiting for her explanation.
Natasha leans back on her hands, her gaze fixed on the ceiling as she continues to speak.
“A couple of months ago, our surveillance revealed that someone within the compound staff was plotting an attack during the opening ceremony of the new building. However, we couldn’t confirm who it was without risking exposing that we knew of their plan."
Your eyes widen in confusion at the revelation. From what you remember, the opening ceremony was a success. There hadn’t been any news of an attack that day.
“But you caught them, right?” you inquire.
“No,” Natasha responds, shaking her head before meeting your gaze. “You did.”
Surprised, you straighten up, giving her a questioning look.
Natasha offers a small smile, elaborating, “You had recently interviewed him as a suspect for another case, and in your notes, you labeled him as dangerous and untrustworthy, despite everything about him proving otherwise.”
“And you believed me?” you ask incredulously.
Natasha shrugs, “Well, I had no other leads at the time anyway.”
You scoff in exasperation at her teasing, playfully pushing her away.
She chuckles softly before adopting a more serious expression.
“Trust in your abilities, Y/n,” Natasha says with a genuine tone. “If it’s you, not finding anyone suspicious is a good thing.”
You watch her closely, waiting for the red aura to appear.
But as a couple of seconds pass and nothing changes, you tuck your forehead back against your knees, this time to hide the smile threatening to spread across your face.
“Alright, break’s over,” Natasha announces, giving your back an encouraging pat. “Let’s go again.”
You groan in reluctance, remaining in your curled-up position.
“Come on,” Natasha urges, her tone coaxing. “I’ll go easy on you this time.”
You don’t even need to look up to know the red aura is surrounding her.
~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~
“What’s this?”
Natasha's voice draws your attention away from the task of pouring cooked popcorn into a bowl.
She's sitting on your sofa, examining a small, elegant card that you had accidentally left on the table.
Widening your eyes in realization of what she’s found, you hurry over to her, but her narrowed eyes tell you that she has already read the names on the card.
“She’s inviting you to her wedding?” Natasha exclaims, disbelief coloring her tone. “It’s only been a year since your breakup, and now she’s already getting married?!”
Sighing in disappointment, you had hoped to keep this information from Natasha, who developed a strong dislike for your ex after you shared the details of your breakup during one of your girls' nights.
Placing the bowl of popcorn on the table, you take the invitation from her hand and head to the kitchen, intending to tuck it away in a drawer. 
As you slide it open, you catch the sight of the old wedding draft buried at the bottom, which causes a tiny pang of sadness in your chest at the memory of that time, of how everything changed so suddenly.
You can't help but wonder how your life might have unfolded if your engagement hadn't ended.
Would you still have accepted Natasha's offer if you hadn't been seeking a distraction from your failed relationship? 
“You’re not thinking about going, are you?” Natasha's voice interrupts your thoughts. 
Glancing up, you notice a peculiar look in her eyes, though it quickly shifts to a neutral expression at your gaze.
After a whole year of spending time together, you could tell underneath her impassive expression that she was upset about something; though, you figured it was just outrage at the situation.
Tossing the invitation into the drawer and shutting it, you offer her a small reassuring smile before returning to your seat beside her to start the movie.
“No, of course not,” you tell her.
As the opening scenes play, you maintain a normal, nonchalant expression, aware of Natasha's gaze still lingering on you even as the red aura fades from around your body.
After a while, Natasha huffs in disbelief before finally settling into the sofa, pulling the bowl of popcorn into her lap.
“You better be sharing that, Romanoff,” you tease, your eyes fixed on the screen.
Natasha scoffs before tossing a piece of popcorn at you.
“Of course, I will.”
Just as you're about to turn your head to look at her and confirm her honesty, she swiftly shoves a cushion pillow to the side of your face, blocking your view.
After a few seconds, she releases it, fluffing the cushion casually before leaning her head against your shoulder and tossing another piece of popcorn into her mouth.
You chuckle at her antics, amused by her playful behavior, before returning your attention to the screen.
A few days later, you find yourself standing on the outskirts of the wedding area, observing as servers and workers hustle to complete the finishing touches.
A sad, bittersweet expression tugs at your lips as you recognize familiar details chosen by your ex, mingled with hints of a stranger’s preferences in the decorations.
To be honest, you don’t intend to stay for the wedding. You're just here to confirm something for yourself.
Taking a deep breath, you close your eyes, conjuring your ex’s face in your mind, and whisper to yourself. 
“I’m in love with her…”
Opening your eyes, you exhale slowly, a content smile on your lips as you notice the red aura surrounding your skin. It's a relief to be able to find closure regarding your feelings for your ex.
“You know, I don’t need powers to know you were lying,” a voice remarks from behind.
Startled, you turn to find Natasha approaching.
She stops beside you, her gaze fixed at the scene ahead as she accuses, “Saying that you weren’t going to come here.”
You look at her briefly before returning your attention to the field.
“I got curious about something,” you admit. “Figured that this was one way to confirm it.”
Excited and happy chatter fills the air as your ex appears, surrounded by friends and family.
Suddenly, thoughts of what-ifs from the other night resurface, prompting you to ask out loud unconsciously before you can stop yourself.
“Do you think I should’ve just pretended that she was telling the truth at that time — when she said she loved me?” you ask Natasha. “Maybe it might’ve worked out between us if I just kept my mouth shut.”
There’s a beat of silence before Natasha finally responds, her tone tinged with wistfulness.
“From my experience,” she begins, “I can tell you that living a lie would not make you happy…no matter how much you wish for it to be true.”
You chuckle lightly, “You’re probably right.”
“Of course I am,” Natasha says confidently.
A comfortable silence falls between you as you both observe the preparations from a distance.
“She is a fool for letting you go, though,” Natasha suddenly adds, her tone casual.
You laugh softly, gently chiding her, “You can’t call the bride that on her wedding day.”
“Alright then,” Natasha concedes, turning to you. “You’re an even bigger fool for coming here by yourself.”
She returns her gaze to the field, muttering under her breath with a hint of irritation, “…still visiting the one who broke your heart.”
Amused, you tilt your head to catch her eyes, chuckling at her words, as you tease, “You know, it almost sounds like you’re jealous.”
When Natasha doesn’t respond or look at you, you raise a brow in surprise and poke her side. 
“Wait, seriously, are you jealous?”
She swats your hand away.
“Stop that,” Natasha reprimands, before gritting out, “I’m not jealous!”
A small grin forms on your face as you notice the red aura appear, causing Natasha to roll her eyes and walk away.
“I’m leaving,” she declares firmly.
“Aww, come on, Natasha,” you call as you trail behind her.
Glancing back at you and seeing your pleased expression, she points at you in warning.
“That smile better be off your face by the time I pull up, or else you’re walking home,” she states before continuing on her way.
Watching her go with a fond smile, you find yourself softly repeating the words.
“I’m in love with her.”
Looking down, your smile widens when you don’t see the red aura appear, confirming what you already knew about your feelings for the red-haired spy.
~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~
As you sit in your office at the Avenger compound, you feel a sense of fatigue wash over you at your busy schedule of back-to-back interviews.
Across from you, the final candidate squirms in her seat, clearly nervous under your scrutinizing gaze. 
A chill sweeps through the room, courtesy of the cold blast of air from the AC, and you can't help but regret your decision to have it set so cold, a choice originally intended to maintain an intimidating atmosphere during interviews. 
With a sigh, you reluctantly pull your hands from the cozy warmth of your hoodie pocket and turn to the next page of questions.
"Let's talk about handling confidential information," you begin, your voice cutting through the tension in the room. "Can you share a time when you had to ensure the secure handling of sensitive data?"
The candidate responds with some slight hesitation, but you sense it’s more from her nerves than any dishonesty, so you continue, moving on to the remaining questions.
Luckily, the rest of the interview goes by quickly and smoothly with her answering the other questions without any problems.
However, now comes the final question of the interview.
“Among the Avengers, who do you consider to be the hottest?”
Clearly caught off-guard, she stumbles over her words, “W-what?” 
Maintaining your serious demeanor, you repeat the question.
“Who do you believe is the hottest Avenger?”
After a moment's pause, she softly answers, “Black Widow..."
Setting your clipboard down, you extend your hand.
"Thank you for coming. It was nice meeting you," you say, signaling the end of the interview.
As she thanks you and leaves, you flip to the last paper on your clipboard, revealing a sheet with tick marks beside the names of your Avenger friends.
With an amused smile, you add another mark at the end of Natasha’s already leading line.
“I don’t think that last question was approved by Steve,” a voice accuses from the doorway.
Glancing up, you see Natasha leaning against the frame, her arms folded.
You shrug in response, “Makes it more interesting though.”
Natasha hums curiously before moving to your side, perching on the edge of your desk. Her narrowed eyes fix on you.
“Is that my hoodie?” she asks in suspicion as she tugs at your sleeve.
“Maybe,” you reply, hastily pulling the hood over your head to conceal your guilty eyes.
Natasha had left the piece of clothing at your place after her last visit, and given the chilly room, borrowing it seemed harmless enough.
“Don’t you have a briefing to get to?” you deflect, attempting to change the subject.
Natasha huffs knowingly before responding, "I had some spare time, so I came to bother you."
"I’m honored," you quip sarcastically, though inwardly your heart warmed at the fact that she thought of you.
Natasha chuckles lightly, then gestures towards your clipboard.
"Ask me some questions," she prompts, her tone playful yet eager.
Deciding to indulge her, you reach for your clipboard and adopt a serious demeanor.
“Name?” you begin.
Natasha shoots you a deadpan look, prompting you to show her the document with the question written on it.
“If they lie about their name, then that’s a red flag already,” you defend, giving her a pointed look.
“Natalie,” you mock.
Natasha chuckles, shaking her head at the memory before extending her hand.
“It’s actually Natasha,” she corrects, playing along.
Skipping past the other general questions, you delve into more targeted inquiries related to threat assessment.
“Have you ever been associated with any extremist or radical groups or organizations?” you ask.
“If you consider working undercover to gain intel on them, then yes,” Natasha responds without hesitation.
“Have you ever participated or been involved in any violent behavior where someone was hurt?”
This one makes her pause for a moment before she finally admits softly, "…yes."
As the questioning continues, Natasha's playful demeanor gradually fades, replaced by a rueful tone.
By the time you reach the final question, she places her hand on your clipboard, gently setting it down on the desk.
"Maybe these questions aren’t meant for people like me," she says sadly, her tone filled with regret.
Observing her disappointed expression, you scoot closer and rest your hand on hers to draw her attention.
“Do you still want to hear my final assessment?” you ask gently.
After a contemplative pause, Natasha nods, curiosity evident in her eyes as she gestures for you to continue.
“Well, based on your answers,” you say with a dramatic pause, flipping through the papers before shaking your head firmly.
“Absolutely not. Extremely dangerous. Definitely a high-risk candidate.”
Natasha huffs in disbelief at your teasing and gives you a playful push. As your laughter subsides, you soften your tone, meeting her gaze sincerely.
“But…I’d trust you,” you admit genuinely.
Natasha's eyes widen slightly before she averts her gaze, clearing her throat. Her fingers toy with the clipboard, flipping to the last page and seeing the score sheet, before chuckling in amusement.
Turning back to you, she tilts her head with a raised brow.
“I don’t get the special question?” she asks.
You take the clipboard from her, offering a knowing look as you begin to organize the documents on your desk.
“I think we both already know your answer to that question,” you reply.
“Then ask me another,” Natasha insists.
Her request makes you pause as you ponder what to ask. Only one thing comes to mind, the question you’ve been hesitating to ask her for a long time.
Meeting her expectant gaze, you find yourself wanting to know the answer, despite the fear in your mind at the possibility of causing another big change in your life again.
Summoning your courage, you face her directly.
“Would you…,” you start, faltering momentarily before gathering yourself with a deep breath.
“...would you say ‘yes’ if I asked you out on a date tonight?”
There's a moment of silence, and just as you consider retracting the question, Natasha reaches out and adjusts the hood atop your head.
Perplexed by her action, you watch her suspiciously. Then, in one swift motion, she pulls the hood down over your eyes, obscuring your vision.
“No,” her voice responds to your question.
Hearing her stand, you quickly remove the hood to see Natasha already making her way out of the door, but before she disappears from your view, you catch the red aura surrounding her slowly fading away.
As an excited smile spreads across your face at the revelation of her true answer, your phone on the desk pings with a new message. Glancing at the screen, you see a text from Natasha.
I’ll pick you up tonight. 
~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~
a/n: Thank you for reading! I know I said I was going to take a little break, but I had some time so I ended up finishing this and decided to post it now instead of later.
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skipper1331 · 21 days
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Secret // Alexia Putellas
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| Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 |
Everybody knew that Alexia was a private person - she only shared the information she wanted to share as she was very selective in her choice of words and very careful about whom she told what.
And even though that facade dropped around her friends and family, she still kept you a secret - she preferred it that way - having you to herself and not having to deal with headlines like 'Alexia Putellas dating her Barcelona teammate.' and the drama that it could cause.
Whenever it was just the two of you she was the sweetest girl, treating you like a princess and being totally in love with you while when other people were around, she kept her distance, acted strictly professional and didn‘t show any signs of affection.
The only person who knew about you was her sister, Alba and she only found out by accident.
-
"mi amor, you‘re so beautiful" the midfielder admired, kissing along your jaw, "I can‘t get enough of you" she found her way down to your neck, completely lost in the feeling of you before a certain spot on your neck caught her attention where she gently created reddish marks.
Just because nobody knew about you, didn’t mean that it would stop Alexia from silently claiming you.
Her fingertips ran along your exposed skin as your shirt had riddled up, leaving the midfielder craving for more.
The Barcelona player continued to mumble sweet nothings, planting some last even sweeter kisses on your neck before she reached up to your lips, kissing them with every ounce of love. Alexia always kissed you like that, letting you know that you caused the butterflies in her stomach.
Tugging on your shirt, she signaled that she wanted it off. Happily obeying, you took it off, her hands now wandering around your bare upper body as she was back kissing you with so much passion and love.
"Ale- do you know what-" both of you froze at the same time, your girlfriend shielding your exposed body as her sister stood in the door frame, "oh my gosh, I’m so sorry!" she covered eyes, rushing out of the room and slamming the door shut.
"mierda!" Ale was off of you in an instant, throwing your shirt back to you.
"I‘m Alba!" the younger Putellas called threw the door, "we haven‘t meet yet. I‘m her sister!"
You chuckled - wrong move as Alexia glared at you, marching out of her bedroom.
"Do you ever knock?!" she said angrily, pulling her sister away, giving you the time you needed.
"I thought you were asleep! You didn‘t open the front door when I knocked" the sister defended herself in their mother tongue.
Alexia huffed, pinching the bridge of her nose, "so, who‘s she?" Alba asked.
Perfectly timed, you exited the bedroom, walking towards the sisters in the living room, "I’m Y/N" you smiled nicely, offering your hand.
"Alba" she introduced herself once again, returning your smile and shaking your hand.
"She‘s my girlfriend" the midfielder huffed, annoyed that her little sister caught you, "20€ if you don‘t tell anyone about it" the older one said.
She would pay money to keep you a secret? Don‘t get me wrong, you didn‘t want to be public as you loved the privacy both of you had as individuals and together but you did hope for that she would at least tell your friends and family. All you wanted was to hold her hand and not to worry about standing too close to her.
The sparkle in your eyes died down, feeling stings in your heart but nonetheless respecting Alexia‘s wishes.
"I don‘t need your money" Alba stated when she saw the way your face fell, "you could have just said please."
You felt more than rejected in that moment.
"You won‘t tell anybody about this" she ordered this time now, her jaw clenched and voice firm - captains order.
Alba walked towards the door, "I‘m going to the car, mamá is waiting. Hurry up" before she left, only Alexia and you left in her apartment.
"I‘m sorry amor, I forgot that we were having lunch together." the midfielder explained, not knowing nor realizing that her behavior had hurt you as she was just apologizing for the incident of Alba walking in.
"You can stay if you‘d like" she smiled, putting on her shoes.
After she had laced her last shoe, she pulled you in by your hips, kissing you good bye, getting a bit carried as the feeling of your lips locked was addicting.
-
You loved being Alexia‘s girlfriend but you didn‘t like being her secret.
To be honest, it didn‘t bother you at first but after 6 months, you started to think about at least telling your family (officially you hadn‘t even met Alba before) and friends but every time you proposed the idea of it, she got defensive and annoyed, so you didn‘t bring it up again.
After one year, you slowly started to think that maybe she was ashamed of being seen with you, just being with you or of you as her behavior got more and more secretive day by day - she didn‘t even act like your friend in training.
You didn‘t know where it was coming from because whenever you were behind closed doors, she was the most affectionate person who loved to cook for you or just sharing the same air made her heart and brain go love sick. She was indeed very much in love with you yet afraid to show this love outside of either of your apartments.
Sometimes you wished that she would take you out for dinner - it didn‘t have to be fancy at all, McDonalds would be simply enough - you just wanted to experience a date night.
And even though, she made home as romantic as possible, it wasn’t enough anymore. You craved for more.
Sometimes when you saw Ingrid and Mapi openly in love, you felt jealous. You wanted that too.
They were your friends and you were so happy for them as they matched each other perfectly but you couldn’t help but feel envy. You envied what they have, imagining how it would feel like with Alexia - hoping to have that with Alexia, one day.
-
"Do you want to go out tonight? Frido told me about this new restaurant!" you said smiling.
The midfielder looked up from her notebook, pausing the tv as she replayed Chelsea’s matches (the club Barcelona would face in the uwcl semi finals)
"Is it takeout?" she asked.
You shook your head - no. "We can go out" you tried again, flopping next to her on the couch.
"Amor!" she grumbled as all her notes fell to the ground, now not sorted anymore.
"Sorry"
"I‘m preparing for our upcoming matches, you should join me in fact, so you know how Chelsea will play. We can order takeout - you know I don‘t like going out with you" she sorted through her notes, grumbling and huffing at the non existing order. She hadn‘t realized that her words were harsh and in fact rude.
You got the message - she didn’t like going out(side) with you, she had made that very clear.
"I can get you some food from there tomorrow" she added, her voice gentle and the wrinkle between her brows gone as her notes were back in the correct order.
It didn‘t help though, you felt hurt. Was it that bad to be seen with you? You‘re a Barcelona player, her teammate - and friends get food together all the time, so why can‘t you get food together as friends? Nobody would suspect that the two of you were more than friends, right?
"Are you hungry? Do you want me to cook something for you, mi amor?"
Again, you shook your head, scrolling through your phone while you acted tough and unbothered by her comment as she didn‘t even notice how harsh her words had sounded before.
You sent a message in the group chat with Ingrid and Frido, asking if they wanted to try out the restaurant which the Swedish woman had discovered. Both of them agreed within seconds.
-
The two of you laid in bed, Alexia‘s arms wrapped around you as she whispered sweet nothings in your ear. It became a routine for Alexia to lull you to sleep while tracing patterns along your skin. She loved doing so and she loved watching you sleep - you looked at peace.
Something about tonight was different though. Normally, it wouldn’t take long for the captain to soothe you to sleep but after 30 minutes, you still were awake, mind seemingly not finding any rest.
"¿Qué pasa?" she whispered in the dark, gently pressing a kiss to the exposed skin on your shoulder.
"It‘s been over a year, Ale, when will you introduce me as your girlfriend? Or take me out on a date that isn’t in here?" your voice was almost inaudible. You knew it was a sensitive topic for Alexia, the girl always denying your requests on telling someone and shutting you out after the conversation and also avoiding you for the rest of the day. "Amor.. we‘ve talked about this" she said, pulling her hands off your body.
Coldness hit your body while the parts were her hands had rested burnt down.
You turned around, looking at her, the moonlight the only light source "all I’m asking is for some recognition." you admitted, almost pleading for her attention outside of either of your homes.
"But I see you. I see you in training and after training, why is it so important to you that people now? We won‘t have any privacy!" her voice raising slightly.
"Alexia… this has nothing to do with the media. I want to meet your family! Or go on a date and wear very nice clothes. Is that too much to ask for?"
"You‘re right. Lo siento, amor" her hands cupped your cheeks, resting her forehead against yours, "I‘ll try to be better"
-
Over the next few months, Alexia’s home started to become your least favourite place - you felt like you were trapped in a cage.
Nothing had changed.
She loved you behind closed doors while she couldn’t even look at you in training.
Each day that passed, more of your heart broke. Your motivation faded - football was your work and no longer a passion.
And Alexia could tell. Your passes were sloppy and your tackles were harsh.
As soon as you had arrived in her apartment, she began complaining about your attitude.
You were not having it.
You started yelling at each other, rude comments leaving both of your mouths,
"You promised me!" you shouted, all hidden anger and hurt discovering the surface, "you promised me and nothing has changed! I‘m your dirty little secret!" you spat.
"Alba knows about you, isn’t that enough?!"
"You offered her fucking money to keep her mouth shut!"
"What do you want?!"
"I can‘t do this anymore, Alexia. I don’t want to think about whether my girlfriend is ashamed of me or not."
"What are you talking about- amor?"
"I‘m worth more than that."
"Please- give me a chance"
"I did, Ale, more than once" you walked towards the front door, bending down to put on your shoes.
The captain followed, so overwhelmed by what was happening that her persona took some turns, "If you walk out that door, we‘re done!"
your hand was resting on the doorknob, ready to leave.
You looked at her, "Behind that door, we never existed anyway."
And with that being said, you left.
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After Your Man - LN
Summary: Lando's girlfriend is present for the Quadrant video with AngryGinge
Just so AngryGinge and reader have a bond, this is ginger!reader, might have like the slightest hint of jealous Lando. Just slightly. edit: PSA, may have been self indulgent (as usual) bc i am in fact ginger 😚
Also going to call AngryGinge - Ginge just for ease and Fifakills - Ethan bc their online usernames are long :D
No part 2 requests please
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Y/n grimaces as she wakes up to the sound of several voices in Lando's apartment. She knew the plans for the day obviously, but Lando's attempt to wake her up had been such a failure, neither of them are certain as to why he tried.
Y/n never wakes up as early as Lando.
Loud laughter does nudge her into getting up, purely because fomo is so real when it comes to dating Lando. He's always having fun and she always wants to be part of that.
"Hey...there she is." Lando grins as y/n appears, she pulled on some clothes, mainly just some shorts and a stolen hoodie. "Did we wake you up?"
"Yes." Y/n smiles as she slides her hands around his waist when he pulls her in for a hug. "It's alright though, I deserve it for not waking up when you tried to get me out of bed."
"Sorry. Uh...Ethan you know, but this is Ginge. Ginge, this is y/n." Lando states politely introducing the two.
"Hold on. So what I'm seeing here, first of all this is like a different man. He's just went from breaking balls to absolute mush in 0.1 of a second." Ginge exclaims making y/n grin. "Second, Lando...I'm seeing gingers are your type."
"Should've seen that one coming." Lando sighs while y/n moves to get her own breakfast.
"Just to let you know, y/n. Your man is after Ginge." Ethan comments making her turn from where she's reaching for her own breakfast, something more interesting than Lando's planned out diet.
"You can have him if you can handle him in a bad mood." Y/n teases making Lando's jaw drop. "Also, this apartment is usually a mess. He cleaned up for you guys so just know this is clean."
Lando tsks at her before they continue eating and making food before Lando announces they're going to work out. Though as Ethan seems to lead Ginge out of the kitchen, Lando moves over to y/n moving up behind her and grabbing her ass in a hand.
"Are you coming to join in?"
"I'll finish making breakfast then come join." Y/n nods before smiling when Lando's hand comes up to her neck and he gently pulls her head to tilt before so he can give her a kiss.
"Oi! Are you coming or what?" Ginge exclaims from the home gym.
"Go on." Y/n smiles nudging him back by using the weight of her body to push back on him. "I'll catch up."
Lando disappears and y/n sighs just making herself a bowl of fruit before she moves to find Lando jogging past her.
"Hey, why is his workout bands in the bedroom? What are the two of you doing in there?"
"Wouldn't you like to know." Y/n smiles while placing herself behind the camera man to eat her breakfast.
"Oh bloody hell! Lando, your girlfriend is a right nympho." Ginge exclaims as Lando reappear with the bands. "So are you going to be joining in, y/n?"
"Lando doesn't let me to the neck thing. He thinks I'll hurt myself." Y/n states pulling a face while Lando rolls his eyes.
"No, tell them the truth why I don't let you do it."
"I...did it once and like tweaked my neck." Y/n grins earning a hum and nod from her boyfriend since he is not going to be painted the bad guy. "So I'm not allowed."
Ginge and Ethan exchange a look while Lando decides to just get on with the video. Being a witness to Ginge constantly flirting with Lando is honestly just one of the best forms of entertainment y/n has ever been a witness to.
"You know, I have to ask. How did you end up bagging a ginger bird?" Ginge asks making y/n choke on air while Lando doesn't know how to react, sort of waiting to see if she's unimpressed or not. "I'm just saying, they're rare. Y/n, you are very beautiful. Obviously, because you're ginger. But how did he get his hands on you?"
"I don't know if you're asking serious or not and want a serious answer." Y/n states making the group laugh around her.
"No, she's genuinely out of your league mate. All gingers are above you." Ginge declares making y/n nod and move to stand with the streamer.
"You know, I like you. Going to form a defence up against Lando."
"New video is going to be, Lando's girlfriend leaves him for AngryGinge." Ginge grins throwing his arm over y/n's shoulder while she laughs with him.
"You two look like brother and sister." Lando comments with a laugh, though y/n now it's code for "get back over here before I drag you back over here".
"Anyway, you guys have other stuff to do."
"Yeah, and you're coming with us to the cryogenic chamber." Lando smirks while y/n grimaces. "You love it."
"You know I don't." Y/n pouts moving forward closer to him but he only grins at her then kissing her lightly.
"It's going to be so fun." Lando grins earning a groan.
-
Y/n stands off to the side while they talk for the video. Everyone down to underwear though Lando did quickly realise that y/n being in underwear with the boys was not something he was really eager for but it was too late to change his mind now.
"Oh I hate you so much." Y/n pants hugging herself while Lando laugh.
Y/n is not a fan of anything cold, but extreme colds are definitely not something that puts her in a good mood. Though as soon as they're out, y/n is the quickest to get dressed and layer up.
"Alright, let's get out of here." Lando sighs moving to leave quickly, pulling y/n around so she's holding his hand as they walk. "Lunch time."
By the time they get back and Lando presents his meal to the other boys y/n bursts out in laughter at the reactions.
"Oi, are you not eating this too?" Ginge asks making her grin moving to him and looking over his shoulder at the poke bowl.
"I have my own meals that I eat. Lucky me, I'm not on a regime." Y/n states then moving away.
"What are you eating then?" Ginge questions earning a sigh as she stops and turns around, looking at him like she's torn between flicking his ear and walking away to entirely ignore the question.
"You know...you're kind of like a toddler with all these questions." Y/n comments watching his jaw drop while Lando and Ethan begin laughing at her before she continues walking to grab her pesto pasta. Not exactly more exciting than Lando's meal, but certainly something she enjoys more.
"Ah, what the fuck? That looks way better than this." Ginge exclaims as y/n sits out of frame but quickly finds herself with the camera directed at her. "Sharing is caring, y/n. Gingers gotta stick together."
Y/n can't even stop herself from laughing then does a bit of a move of pity and dishes out about a quarter of her meal into his bowl.
"You're an angel. An angel. Much nicer than your boyfriend."
"Yeah she is." Lando smiles not even hiding his adoration for her while she seems to try and redirect attention to the game of jenga. Though once the camera is looking away from her, Lando manages to kiss her temple a couple times.
-
By the end of the day y/n has formed possibly more of a friendship with Ginge than Lando had expected to form himself.
"Alright, Ginge." Y/n laughs as he gives her a tight hug. "It was good meeting you."
"You too. Here, don't let him forget he's blessed to have a red haired girlfriend."
"I'm never going to hear the fucking end of this now." Lando groans earning a grin from his girlfriend before she kisses either of Ginge's cheeks which promptly turn pink.
"Oh you've embarrassed him now." Ethan laughs while y/n grins and moves back a couple steps.
"You are always always always welcome back and we'll have to find a way to see you again over in England." Y/n smiles then hugging Ethan. "I'm sure we'll see you soon too."
"Ahaha, I love it. I'm the favourite guest clearly." Ginge cackles as y/n shifts back.
Eventually the two have left and Lando grumbles looking at the young woman who grins at him.
"That was fun."
"You think?" Lando hums shifting a hand up to move some of her hair behind her ear then twisting a few strands around one finger. "Next time Ginge is around I'm tying your wrist to mine."
"Oh no, has jealous Lando been triggered to the surface?" Y/n teases earning a fake smile before he kisses her in quite a long and heavy kiss before pulling back just enough to look at her, one hand still playing with her hair while she frowns a little. "What?"
"I never tell you how much I like your hair, do I?"
"You don't have to." Y/n laughs feeling a little nervous all of a sudden. "Especially not just because Ginge got all excited about you dating someone with this hair colour."
"I love you hair, not because of him...and I think I should...show you exactly how much I love you hair. Especially since I saw you spend the whole day checking me out." Lando smirks continuing with slow and heavy kisses as he manages to pick her up and pull her legs up around his waist. "After watching you spend the whole day loving Ginge, I think I gotta remind you who you're supposed to be flirting with."
"I had to do something to get your attention. You've been flirting with Ginge all day. I knew he'd be after my man to that extent." Y/n giggles before grinning when Lando rushes her to their bedroom.
Taglist: @namgification @hiireadstuff @jsjcue @geniusalpaca @itsjustkhaos
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