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pitchsidestories · 8 months

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Big Reputation II Jenni Hermoso x Madrid!Reader

Masterlist I Word count: 3456

A/N: We hope you like this oneshot because it turned out quite long and we worked on it from time to time. As for the ones who requested fanfics with other players, don't worry, we're working on them, an Arsenal player will come next. ❤️

warnings: brief mentioning of injuries

31 January 2021

FCB Femení vs. Real Madrid Femenino 4 :1

Goal scorers: Putellas (14), Hermoso (23), Oshoala (37, 70), Olga (81 p.)

With an amused smirk on her face Alexia Putellas put an arm around her friend’s shoulder:” Who are you looking at Jenni?” “No one.”, Jenni Hermoso replied, trying to hide the fact that the question of the midfielder caught her off guard as she was looking at a Real Madrid playing from afar. Another fellow teammate Irene Paredes who knew her all too well intervened laughing:” Lies.”

“Just checking out the opponent.”, the black-haired woman brushed it off smiling confidently. Unconvinced Alexia teased her: “Oh sure, miss professional.” “What?!”, Jenni pretended to be shocked. The defender nodded:” You’re checking her out, right Ale?” “Yeah, she is.”, the younger player agreed. “Excuse me, chicas?”, the striker acted outraged. Seeing her friend having such an obvious crush on the opponent was very entertaining for Alexia who winked at her:” You’re excused. She’s kinda pretty.” “Thanks.”, Jenni answered, running through her hair with one hand.

Loosing the first league El Clásico at home in Madrid with 4:0 made you even more hungry to challenge the Barcelona Women’s team now, especially because as a defender the received goals hurt you a lot. Without a question your motivation on this cold January was very high, nothing was better than revenge in the sport you loved. Meanwhile Ivana Andrés brought you back to the present moment, wiggling her eyebrows:” You’re being watched.” “By whom?”, surprised you turned your head to follow her gaze which was directed at the Barca players on the other side of the pitch.

Spotting them you shrugged it off:” Oh, I won’t make it easy for Jenni that’s for sure.” “Don’t worry, if she keeps staring at you during the game, you’ve got nothing to do.”, Olga Carmona commented grinning. Excited the older woman with the dark curls added:” Who knew you’d be our secret weapon?” “Girls.”, you blushed deeply, knowing full well that the other team was highly favoured, and you needed more than that to take them out of their game.

A loud sigh escaped Olga’s lips:” Okay, fine. We’ll see how the game’s going.” “Let’s win this.”, you brought back some optimism. Satisfied with the remark the youngest defender of the three of you said: “Please.”

That the game did not start well for your team was an understatement, you were starting to swim when Alexia scored in the 14th minute. Still, you tried to hold your teammates together:” Held your head high girls, we still have enough time to turn that game around.”

The chance to score the equalizer was presented to the Real Madrid team through a corner kick. While Olga was getting ready to shoot, you were positioning yourself in the penalty area. A flirty voice which you knew belonged to Jenni whispered into your ear: “Hey, pretty girl.”

You didn’t even have to turn around. Jennis body pressed against your back to prevent you from having too much space. A lazy smirk appeared on your face; “If that’s your way to distract defenders, it won’t be working.“ “It won’t?“, she whispered, her lips close to your ear but your eyes stayed focused on Olga, who was taking a few steps back and kicked the ball.

You ran a few steps, leaving Jenni standing and jumped up but the ball was too high. It barely grazed the top of your head and bounced down in front of a Barcelona defender who kicked the ball wide. As you sprinted back to get into your position, you passed Jenni who winked at you; “Or maybe it did work.“ You shook your head in annoyance. Alexia bumped her shoulder to Jennis, nodding into your direction; “What did you say to her?“ “Oh, nothing important.“

You conceded the second goal barely ten minutes later. Your slide tackle came too late, Jennis ball already hit the back of the net. You were cursing under your breath while you got up from the grass. Ivana appeared next to you, patting your back; “Head up.“ “But…“ She gave a you a quick head shake that made you shut up instantly; “It’s okay. It happens.“ “Alright. The game is not over yet.“, you nodded determinedly after a deep breath. Olga smiled weakly; “That’s what we want to hear.“

To your disappointment, the game ended with a 4:1. You grimaced while the final whistle blew and the Barcelona players ran towards each other, celebrating their win. You tried to ignore them while you made your way across the pitch to your tired and upset teammates and didn’t realise that Jenni had left her team. “Jenni, where are you going? We want to celebrate with the fans.“, Mapi called her back. The striker waved her back; “Go ahead. I’ll be with you in a minute.“

She followed you to the other side of the pitch where you pulled up Olga from the turf; “Olga, don’t be so hard on yourself. You’re young and we’ll learn from that. Next time it’ll be better. Promise.“ The other player nodded silently and was pulled into a hug by Ivana. You turned around and found yourself face to face with Jenni; “You.“ “Yes, hi. Good game.“, she smiled at you. You wrinkled your nose in response; “Thanks but you don’t have to lie.“ “I don’t.“ “So, why are you not celebrating with your team?“, you asked, getting slightly annoyed. Jenni shrugged; “I was going to. I just wanted to tell you that.“

“Don’t you want to have her number too? Or her jersey?“, Olga piped up with a laugh. “Olga!“, you scolded her. But Jenni gave her an appreciative smiled; “Actually a good idea. I’d like both.“ “You’re even more greedy than I thought, Hermoso.“, you rolled your eyes. Unimpressed, Jenni looked at you; “Will you give it to me now?“ “Yes, if you give me yours in return.“ “Fair, enough.“, she laughed, pulling her jersey over her head.

“Because it’s getting really cold.“, you added, handing her your own shirt. Jenni laughed; “Oh, please. Here you go.“ “Thank you.“ Olga provided you with a piece of paper and a pen so that you could note down your phone number. You shoved the note into Jennis hand and pushed her away with a grin; “Now go back to your teammates!“ “On my way.“, she winked at you before disappearing between the other Barcelona players.

In December you were supposed to play again against Barcelona. After your match in January Jenni and you became a couple. During the phone call with your now girlfriend, she asked you what you wished for this Christmas you both were supposed to celebrate in Madrid. A soft chuckle escaped your lips:” What I want for Christmas, mi amor? A win against your team of course.”

“Something more realistic, please.”, the tattooed Spanish woman laughed. Playfully dramatic you gasped for air: “More realistic?” “Like a unicorn or a dragon. I can make that happen. But not a win against us.”, with your eyes closed you could see her shaking her head. “Rude.”, you huffed.

Softly Jenni replied: “It’s true though.” “See you there.”, you answered. Cheerfully she chirmed:” Good luck.” “Not to you.”, you teased her. You could imagine the dark-haired woman grimacing:” Thanks. Appreciate it.”

You both ended your call with how much you loved each other while you could see your neighbours putting up their fairy lights on their terrace bringing light into the darkness. Maybe that beam of light shone Madrid to a win against their rival.

12 December 2021

Real Madrid Femenino vs. FCB Femení 1 :3

Goal scorers: Martens (8, 23), Paredes (18), Asllani (52)

Sadly, your hopeful dreams were quickly trampled on by Lieke Martens who shot two goals quickly, so did Irene Paredes. In the second half Kosovare Asllani scored but that did not change that Real Madrid lost once again against Barcelona.

The defeat was audible in your voice as you turned your back to Jenni:” No, leave me alone, Jenni.” “Oh, come on.”, the forward tried to console you. Cooly Olga intervened:” Go.” “Calm down! Not my fault that you lost.”, the Barcelona player shouted furiously. “No, but it’s no fun, let me tell you that.”, you muttered. Surprised you looked up to your girlfriend who handed you a small gift:” It’s still 12 days to go until Christmas.” “Yeah, I know. Maybe it cheers you up.”, Jenni shrugged her shoulders. Carefully you touched the bow holding the small package together:” Do you want me to open it right now?” “Whenever you want.”

Swiftly you opened the present:” A key?” “Not just any key.”, the forward explained seriously. Rolling her eyes Olga commented drily:” If you’re saying that this is the key to your heart I’m going to vomit.” That was the moment Ivana dragged the younger defender away from you. In an honest tone your girlfriend said smirking: “I’m not that romantic.” “It’s to your place.”, you realized.

Clearing her throat, she nodded: “It’s.” “You trust me that much?”, you asked moved. Warmly the older woman giggled: “I do trust you that you won’t come into my house and steal all my stuff.” “Yeah, I won’t do that.”, you admitted with an amused smile on your lips.

Uncharacteristically nervous Jenni went through her hair with one hand: “You can choose when you want to come or leave that way.” “Sorry, I was so harsh to you earlier.”, you apologized. Earnestly she looked at you: “It’s okay. You’ve got your key now. If you need to be alone, that’s fine but if you want to come to my place, you know how.” “I appreciate it.”, you gave her a kiss on the cheek. Hopefulness bloomed in your girlfriend’s face: “I’ll see you later. Or maybe not.”

Jenni was at her place when you used the key to her door for the first time. “Hi.“, you said quietly. Jenni looked up; “Oh, hi.“ “You said I could come, so…“, you started. Jenni smiled; “Yes, of course. Don’t stand in the door. Come in.“ You slipped in and let the door fall closed behind you; “I’m coming.“ You followed your girlfriend into her kitchen. Jenni looked at you thoroughly; “Sorry about earlier.“ “No, you said a win was not realistic.“, you shook your head.

Your girlfriends eyebrows knotted together; “I was joking. Anything can happen in football.“ “That’s true. I still believe this club could challenge yours one day…“, you thought out loud. “I’m sure you will. Real Madrid’s womens team is still young.“ With a sigh, you sat down at her kitchen table; “Right… Is it okay if we don’t talk about the game tonight?“ “Of course.“ Jenni sat down with you. “Thanks.“

As promised, Jenni changed the topic effortlessly; “Did you have dinner yet?“ “No, what about you?“, you replied. The striker shook her head; “I was about to order something but I couldn’t decide. Do you want to pick?“ A smile spread across your face; “From our usual place?“ “Sure.“

13 March 2022

FCB Femení vs. Real Madrid Femenino 5:0

Goal scorers: Putellas (41, 43), Guijarro (60), Peter (65 o.g.), Hermoso (82)

The next El Clasicó was played in March. Barcelona once again didn’t make it easy for Real Madrid. In the 60th minute, you had the chance to break through. You made a run for the ball but as you turned, you could feel a pop and a sharp pain in your knee. You immediately went down while the ball rolled out of play.

Alexia dragged on Jennis jersey who quickly made a few steps towards you; “Keep your head in the game, Jenni.“ “My head is exactly where it’s supposed to be, Ale.“, she replied cooly when she saw your own teammates race towards you. Alexia nodded courtly; “Good.“ “It’s not a big deal.“, Jenni stated, more to herself than to Alexia.

Ivanas head appeared above you at the same time; “Hey, what’s wrong?“ “My knee…“, you answered, trying to sit up, but Olga immediately held you back: “Don’t move. The medical staff is coming.“

You nodded bravely and let the physios assess your injury. Ivana grimaced in sympathy, seeing your pained expression; “Shit. This doesn’t look good.“ “She’ll be subbed off. Obviously.“, Olga nodded while the two watched you being helped off the pitch.

The game ended with another win for Barcelona. On their way to the dressing rooms, Jenni stopped Olga; “Olga, where is she?“ The Real player shrugged; “How am I supposed to know? I was on the field, just like you.“ “Sorry, I thought you might.“, Jenni shook her head. Sighing, Olga put a hand on her upper arm; “Wait here. I’ll go check in the dressing room for her.“ “Okay.“ Jenni watched Olga leave and return a few minutes later.

“And?“ “It’s her knee. It’s not looking good.“, the Real player explained what Jenni already knew. Impatiently, she asked; “Can I see her?“ “Yes, go in.“ Jenni didn’t wait for her, she went straight into Real Madrids dressing room. With your knee bandaged to prevent swelling, you looked up at your girlfriend; “Congrats to your goal.“ “Thanks. But it’s hard to celebrate when you had to be helped off the pitch.“, she replied earnestly.

“Trust me, I did not want to leave the game that way either.”, you swallowed hard. Quietly the Barcelona player lifted your chin, so you had to keep your focus on her: “I know that.” “Not in the year of the euros.”, you whispered, tears shot in your eyes while the realization was hitting hard.

Empathetically Jenni stroke your hair:“Hey, don’t think about that yet.” “It’s hard not to do that.”, you mumbled. Smoothly she reminded you: “I know that. But it’s in the future.” “And now?” “Now we have to wait for a diagnosis and your rehab.”, the dark-haired woman pulled you into a hug hoping to lift a bit of the weight on your shoulders. Loudly you sighed:” Alright.”

After your ACL injury was confirmed, Jenni proposed her idea to you which you answered promptly:” Moving in with you? But you’re living in Barcelona?” “And?”, your girlfriend gave you an expectantly look. “And the rehab process can be ugly.. I might say awful things to you. Why are you grinning?”, you listed all the things which could go wrong.

A bright smile appeared on the forward’s face: “I hope you do say that to me.” “You’re so weird.”, you laughed. Playfully shocked Jenni repeated: “I’m weird?” “Yes.” “You’re weird.”, she disagreed with your earlier comment. Now it was your turn to react offended: “Me?!” “Yeah.” You pressed on:“Why?”

“You don’t want to come to Barcelona with me.”, your girlfriend pouted. Slowly you admitted to yourself and her, not without a joking tone in your voice: “I do but I’m not sure if you can handle a madridista.” “I’m sure.”, Jenni confirmed sincerely. “Okay, we can do this.”

19 November 2023

FCB Femení vs. Real Madrid Femenino 5:0

Goal scorers: Bonmatí (17), Hansen (43), Caldentey (45+1), Pina (90+1), Vicky (90+3)

It was a sunny and warm November day while both teams were doing their round in the Estadi Johan Cruyff. Concerned you walked up to Alexia:” Ale, how’s your knee doing? You’re not playing?” “No, I’m out.”, she told you with a sad smile on her face. Cheekily you replied: “I’m sorry to hear it as your friend but as a player for Madrid.”

“Don’t worry, I trust my team enough to believe they can still beat you. Even with you back.”, her smile deepened at your teasing words, but the midfielder hinted on the time you both were out with an ACL injury missing out on the Euros in which your team was under the favourites but did not win after all.

“We’ll see about that, more serious you continued, but you’re still joining us for dinner afterwards, right?” She padded your shoulders, showing the warm side of her few people get to see of her:” Of course.”

You gave her another warm smile before turning away to head towards the changing room. While Alexia watched you leave, Jenni who was set to commentate on this El Clasico appeared on her side; “Ale, I’m really proud of how she came back from that injury.“ “You can be, she’s tough.“, Alexia nodded, her gaze now shifting towards the fans that filled the stadium.

Jenni watched her former team mate from the side; “Yes but I’m glad you two had each other during that time too.“ “Me too, trust me. It was a good idea to let her do the rehab in Barcelona.“, Alexia replied, her jaw set as she turned back towards Jenni. “Agreed.“

The midfielder raised her eyebrows at her friend; “But now she’s back in Madrid.“ “And I’m in Mexico.“, Jenni added with a small sigh. “How did you make that decision?“

The dark-haired forward tilted her head pensively; “It wasn’t easy.“ “I can tell.“, her former team mate replied. “You do?“ Alexia gave a short nod; “Yes. But you got to go. Your new job is waiting.“ A defiant smile appeared on Jennis face; “Exciting.“ “I’ll see you after the game. With three more points for Barcelona.“, her friend laughed in reply.

All three of you experienced the game from different places in the stadium. Jenni sat with some journalists, Alexia with her team mates and you were standing on the grass while Barcelona beat Real Madrid with 5:0.

Of course, the Barcelona players were in a good mood as soon as the final whistle blew but Jenni barely had time for some more small talk with Alexia; “If you excuse me, Ale.“ “Hey! Seriously? You’re leaving me for a Madrid player?“, Alexia yelled after her as she crossed the grass.

Grinning, Jenni answered; “She’s my fiancée!“ “You were not supposed to tell her that yet!“, you laughed, playfully hitting Jenni. “Excuse me?“, came from Alexia, more amused than offended. “Just great.“, you mumbled while Alexia caught up with you two. “Why didn’t you tell me that?“ “Before the El Clasico?“, you replied innocently. “Yes!“ Uncertain, you admitted; “Felt weird with Jenni there too…“

A smile spread across Alexias face; “I don’t blame you. I was expecting to hear it from Jenni anyway.“ To your surprise, you felt her arms around you as she wrapped you in a hug.

Simultaneously, Jenni explained; “We wanted to tell you at dinner.“ “That’s way too late!“, Alexia complained, releasing you from her embrace. You smiled at the two friends and took a step back, pointing into the direction of the dressing rooms; “I’ll leave you to it.“

“No, stay.“, Jenni said and grabbed your wrist. But Alexia shook her head at her friend and gave you a gentle smile; “We’ll talk about it at dinner.“ You took this as your sign to disappear into the dressing rooms for a nice, warm shower.

“But you’ll be my best woman right Ale?”, Jenni asked the blonde. Playfully the midfielder told her: “I’ll think about it!” “Don’t you dare saying ACL bonds are stronger.”, the dark-haired woman groaned. The younger player shook her head:“No, I’m saying I should have known first if you want me to have a special role in your wedding.”

“Who says there is only a wedding?”, Jenni replied with an innocent look on her face. Confused Alexia furrowed her brows:” What’s that supposed to mean?” “We’ll tell you at dinner.”, the woman who played in Mexico promised. With a pout on her lips the Barcelona player turned away: “I hate you both.”

Freshly showered you came back in time to hear her last words declaring:” No, you love us!” “Not sure about that.”, the blonde chuckled. You threw an eyebrow up:” Do you believe her, Jenni?” “No.”, your fiancée answered. Smirking you agreed with her:“Me neither.”

“She’s just bluffing.”, the raven-haired woman observed. Still pouting Alexia defended herself: “I want to know what you were hinting at earlier!” “Can we go to dinner first?”, Jenni wanted to know. The midfielder shrugged it off: “Sure.”

After you had a delicious dinner Alexia looked expectantly at you both:” So, will you girls tell me now everything?” “Sure, we have the time now.”, you nodded. Quickly Jenny left the table only to return with something which would make Alexia tear up more than an engagement ring could.

You might have lost every el clasico but it brought you closer to the person you fell in love with and for this you were grateful. Although you’d love to win it in the future but it would be on pause for a while because some things were more important than football.

#jenni hermoso #jenni hermoso x reader #woso x reader #woso #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso oneshot #espwnt #espwnt x reader #barcelona femeni #barcelona women #alexia putellas #olga carmona #real madrid femenino #woso one shot #alexia putellas x reader #woso community #jenni hermoso imagine

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amongemeraldclouds · 6 months

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better than revenge | chapter eight: silver lining

Lorenzo Berkshire x Reader

Series trope: Fake dating

Chapter eight summary: Going to a ball with Enzo, you play a game to keep things interesting. 1k words.

Warning: Fluff, no use of y/n, suggestive.

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“My lady,” Enzo smiles at me, arm outstretched to take my hand, the other poised behind him.

I giggle and take his hand. “Why, thank you my lord.”

We walk up the stairs into the ornate ballroom, glistening in white and gold. The place is flush with velvet, silk, and other fineries adorning the room and guests with their bright smiles and heads held high.

“It’s been years since I’ve been to one of these,” I remark, taking in the grandeur.

“I promise it will be a fun evening,” Enzo reassures me. “Why has it been so long?”

“My mother loved these events and used to take me with her all the time,” I smile at the memory. “When she passed away, her memory haunted me whenever I tried to go. It wasn’t the same anymore. She was radiant, Enzo. An unforgettable woman,” I gush.

“She must be,” he agrees, “to have such a wonderful daughter take after her.”

I lean into him, “oh come now, no one will hear our conversation. No need to say that for The Book.”

“Okay,” he says, “but I mean it.”

I grab a champagne flute to try to hide my blush.

After greeting everyone we knew, we settle into a corner of the ballroom. “So how exactly are we going to make it fun?” I ask.

“Let’s play a game of guess the conversation. Let’s pick people chatting together and try and guess what they’re saying based on how their lips move.”

The champagne fizzing on my tongue makes me bold. “What if we take it to the next level? Would you be able to guess what I say if I move my lips against yours?”

Enzo meets my eyes and visibly blushes. I grin at him, “maybe that’s should be our game,” I say, moving my lips to his ear. “Who can make each other blush the most?”

Mischief glints at the corner of his eye, “oh you’re on.”

“May I have this dance?” He asks as the music starts up.

We make our way to the dance floor and join the crowd. Enzo places his hand on my waist and holds my other hand. I rest my free hand on his shoulder and we move to the music.

“I’ll go first,” Enzo says. “You look really beautiful tonight.”

“Okay, new rule. You must only say what’s true and not for the sake of the game. Deal?”

“Sure,” he agrees. “I still stand by what I said.”

“Well you’re not too bad either in that suit. You look very princely, but I bet those clothes would look better on the bedroom floor.”

He chuckles, “oh we’re going there? Well, I think if you call me a prince…instead of calling you my princess, would you rather I call you a good girl?”

“Hmm that depends, you can’t call me a good girl when I want to do bad things to you.”

Enzo closes his eyes and groans. “You know bad girls get punished, how would you like to learn your lesson?”

“Using mnemonics,” I quip. “Which, as we’ve established, is not a made up word.”

Enzo laughs at my change in subject. “Thanks for coming here with me tonight. Now everyone in high society knows I’ve claimed you as mine.”

“Oh?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.

“I did not wink, unless you’d like me to?”

I smirk and focus on our dance. Beneath the glowing chandelier and the intoxicating buzz of champagne in my veins, it’s getting more and more difficult to rein in my restraints.

⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎

“Thank you,” I tell Enzo after he walks me to my dorm.

“I should be thanking you, this phase of The Book is a success.”

“A lot of words were said tonight,” I begin and Enzo blushes at the memory.

“We don’t have to actually do anything, words can just be words,” he says gently.

I nod and wish him good night. As he turns and takes a few steps away from me, I hesitate. “Wait, Enzo.”

He looks back at me expectantly.

“Will you help me with my dress? It’s quite complicated to untie by myself.”

He visibly gulps and nods as I lead him to my dorm.

After closing the door, Enzo moves behind me and starts working on untying my gown. String by string, pieces of silk come undone at his touch. I feel his warm breath at the nape of my neck and welcome the sparks of electricity that bloom where his skin grazes mine. I remind myself to breathe.

In the darkness of my room, alone again with Enzo in our own world, I can no longer keep lying to myself. “Enzo,” I breathe out, surprised by how touch starved my voice sounds.

“Yes?” He replies in an equally breathless voice.

“I can’t do this anymore,” I confess. His fingers freeze at my sudden declaration as he waits for me to go on.

I turn around and meet his eyes, “when this all started a few months ago, I was angry and looking to get revenge on Mattheo. I never expected -” I falter and gather myself.

“I never expected to get to know this amazing guy who’s funny, kind and is the best fake boyfriend. I never expected I could feel happy again after everything that happened. Enzo?”

“Hmm?” He asks encouragingly.

“You’re my silver lining.”

Enzo’s face lights up at my confession, “I thought I was the only one who felt something.”

I shake my head, “how could I not? I feel at home with you.”

He smiles, “falling for me, dear?”

I laugh, leaning into him, “actually yes, I am Enzo.”

He pulls me in for a hug. “I caught you, darling,” he says and we both giggle at how cheesy we sound.

When we pull apart, I look into his eyes and admit, “Enzo, I want this to be real.”

“I think it’s been real to me for a while,” he confesses.

I smile and kiss him. Just like that, the sweetness of the moment is ignited with heat.

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A/N: Alexa, play Dress by Taylor Swift. The next chapter will be pure smut!

Taglist: @hoeforvinniehackerrr @i-think-you-are-gr8 @thecraziestcrayon @adreamingpendulum @themarauderswife7 @midsoulz @ultramarinetovelvet @val-writes @lafrone @daisiesformylove @mildly-delulu @allebasi05 @enha-stan @skb4000 @nat1221 @s0urw00lf @helpimhopelesslyinlove

#lorenzo berkshire x reader #lorenzo berkshire x you #enzo berkshire x reader #enzo berkshire imagine #enzo x reader #harry potter fanfiction #hp fanfic #lorenzo berkshire #slytherin boys #enzo berkshire #slytherin x reader #slytherin x slytherin #amongemeraldcloudswrites

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tatteredxsails · 10 months

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open starter: aspiring rockstar au

One day, things wouldn't be like this. One day, things would be better. People would recognize him. They'd squint against the stage lights and look out over the crowd of people screaming their name and singing their songs.

For now... for now, they were squinting against light reflecting off the hood of a salad bar. They ran their finger along the polished chrome and lifted it to look at the dust that he'd collected. The band was playing, the drums thundering in their ears and a guitar squealing. None of them fit in this place, but fuck, this was the only place willing to give them any kind of gig at this point. The fuck kind of restaurant chain had a live band, anyways? They'd played at bars. They'd played at other venues with open mic nights. Entered a few battle of the bands... maybe they'd pick up another night back to Jackie'z again soon.

Eddie had bigger aspirations than this. Bigger than Jackie'z. There were factors that were standing in the way. Namely, the world's overall reaction to them. All of them. They might have been the most controversial member of the band (if you asked the grandmother worrying into her salad in the corner) but that didn't mean that she was the only one that had ever experienced being something unwanted. The Queen Anne's Revenge looked like Rob Halford fucked Bowie with Elton John sitting in the eponymous cuckold chair in the hotel room where it went down. That was when they were being more thematically cohesive. Some days, they all looked like they'd wandered in from different genres and somehow ended up performing on the same stage.

The guitar eased into silence and Eddie lifted the microphone up to their lips, "Thank you ladies, gentlemen... and those of us who know better."

That got a smattering of laughter. There were some people crowded into the establishment who were genuine fans and who weren't being treated to the equivalent of a musical assault while they tried to enjoy their overpriced, reheated, lobster and congealing butter.

"I want to tell you a little bit about how I got here. How I became the... stunning woman standing before you," Eddie always pitched their voice just a little bit lower when they said that, in part because of the reactions it got. Amusement, a curled lip, it didn't matter. None of them had any idea which direction they were headed, anyways. Did they? They'd lost track somewhere, hadn't they?

They pushed some of their silver and black hair over their shoulder, "You see, it all began when I was just a slip of a boy..."

Maybe the hadn't taken off because Eddie was... too personal, with their music. The sets were part musical performance and part confessional with the assurance of a captive audience. Eddie dipped a chunk of rubbery lobster into the butter dish on their plate while they gave that some thought. The place was dead quiet since they'd packed up their set to settle in for the meal that was a part of their payment for performing. They hadn't done great on tips that night, but at least they had the fucking lobster and sodas hissing in thick plastic cups. Every one of these damn restaurants was the same and every night was blending together.

They could go back to Jackie'z. They did better at Jackie'z. But you didn't get noticed in a dive bar. Not that you got noticed playing a set at Bilgewater's, either, but fuck it was something akin to touring like a real band.

Eddie wiped some butter from their face and looked down at the lipstick smudged on the napkin. That was just great. They wiped at the edge of their lip with their pinky to try and neaten things up, then glanced up, not having caught the last thing said to them.

"What?"

#au: origin of love #my partner and I agreed that if Ed were a 'rockstar' that it would be Hedwig and the Angry Inch style #so now I am putting this out in the world #and skittering off #tatteredxsails:edward #Ed's pronouns were wandering everywhere while I wrote this so excuse me if you spot an inconsistency

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catty-words · 4 years

Text

on the school dance fallout or, a thorough examination of the boys’ apologies to julie

full disclosure, i used to take serious issue with 1.06 for what it did to julie’s righteous anger in light of the boys letting her down, and my gripes haven’t fully gone away. but i have spent some time thinking on the fallout since my first (several) viewing(s) of the show and i finally noticed some emotionally nuanced storytelling that i needed time to come to appreciate. so, if you’ll indulge me another gif-filled meta post...

everyone knows that a good apology demonstrates an understanding of how you wronged the person you’re apologizing to, otherwise the words i’m sorry end up being fairly empty. and luckily for the boys, julie does a good job of immediately and effectively communicating her hurt feelings:

the first part is directed at luke specifically as her main co-writer, while the rest is about how all three of them let her down. it couldn’t be more clear that the reason she’s so betrayed is that a) they’ve made her feel like julie and the phantoms is less important to them than sunset curve and b) they’ve failed to consider her point of view or empathize with how important the show was to her.

which is why singing sorry a bunch of times, though charming, leaves her unmoved. and it’s why booking another gig actually makes her angrier. a gig the boys have deemed important enough to show up for is not a present or an olive branch to her, it’s a slap in the face. and if the boys had actually been paying attention to what she’d said the night of the dance, they could have anticipated her reaction.

but they clearly haven’t listened, so they haven’t learned how to do better or make things right. which is why this is such an important beat in the scene in the studio:

hounding julie to rejoin the band, even with such nice sentiments as “you’re the best thing that’s happened to us since we became ghosts”, does nothing to address how undervalued julie feels getting stood up because, as she points out above, their ability to do what they love is very limited without her. that makes her a powerful and essential member of the band, but it doesn’t prove that they care about her, julie, the person. and you can see in the reaction shot how the truth of her words lands for all of them.

their remorseful silence gives julie the opportunity to reiterate one of the points she made the night before, and it’s important to note which part of her hurt feelings she chooses to revisit.

the fact that they made the choice to pay more attention to their old music in spite of the music they were creating together is the thing that hurt her feelings the most. and, of course, her open hostility and her imagined reasons for why the boys picked sunset curve over julie and the phantoms (i.e. selfishness) puts luke on the defensive and ends with everyone leaving the scene dissatisfied.

great! okay, so here’s the part that’s bugged in the past (and the present, just. a little less so.) — in their attempt to deescalate the situation, alex and reggie give julie, and the audience, the all-important luke backstory. but like asking julie to rejoin the band with a shinier gig than a school dance flies in the face of actually making amends, so, too, does asking julie to empathize with luke’s emotional journey when the boys failed to take julie’s into account when they hurt her. only this time, it works as an olive branch.

now, i’m not saying that julie’s acting out of character in being sympathetic to luke’s pain, quite the opposite is the case. and i’m also not saying it’s bad that she does find sympathy for his situation — again, i’d argue that the opposite is true. it’s just, at the same time, it’s not a good look to force aside the young woman of color’s hurt in service of the white dude who hurt her feelings in the first place’s tragic backstory. the narrative is asking julie not to be mad at the choices luke made in the past two episodes because he’s really sad, actually.

and sure that’s an ungracious read of the moment, but i stand by the fact that it’s present in the text of the episode all the same, even with a little more nuance than i’m currently giving it credit for.

all that being said, alex and reggie do a bit to win back this highly insensitive maneuver with another stab at an apology.

alex addresses julie’s comment about them knowing “how tough it’s been for her to play” by reiterating that not showing up let her down and they get that that’s a crappy way to feel, while reggie takes a crack at julie’s “our songs were good” by emphasizing that they all love being in a band and making music with her. it’s a slight step up from their sorry in the garage, but not a complete fix because they’re all still sitting with the fact that they need julie to make the most of their music and how that complicates their declarations of loyalty.

the thing that makes this attempt at reconciliation different than those prior, of course, is this line:

the acknowledgement that things haven’t been fixed + the politeness + the implication that they’re willing to put in the time to earn her trust back so long as she lets them makes the apology a good enough one to accept. well, that, and:

one gets the sense that if rose could actually speak to julie in that moment, she’d be reminding her the value of grace. and, of course, we know that this also serves as a reminder to julie that good things are fleeting, loss is around every corner, and holding close what you care about is important. so she does just that by letting go of her (righteous, righteous) anger and reuniting the band.

still, even though alex and reggie have had their chance to make amends, luke doesn’t get the same moment to show he’s actually paid attention to julie’s needs in 1.06. so, naturally, he starts immediately in their first scene together in 1.07.

i mentioned in my exhaustive list for “finally free” that julie picking a sunset curve song for their reunion number is a lovely, understated way for her acknowledge luke’s lost musical legacy, and i have similar feelings about the fact that luke suggests “edge of great” for their follow-up gig. it’s his first step in proving to her that he does care about the music they’ve written together with actions instead of empty apologies and misguided gestures.

by the end of the episode, though, the three of them take a step back (reggie gets points for his being, like, half a step) when they learn that, in addition to letting down julie, one of the consequences of their night chasing revenge is a ticking clock on their existence.

though i understand the urge to protect julie from the alarming news that their power is going out, there’s also a lot of selfishness behind the decision. julie loses them in the end no matter what, but lying to her about it and planning to leave without an explanation shows a disregard for her emotional journey in a similar way standing her up did. in fact, this plan is basically to stand her up for eternity. not cool, guys.

naturally, since it’s luke who’s the one proposing the terrible plan and it’s luke who never officially demonstrated his understanding of how he hurt julie’s feelings by not showing up when it mattered, it’s fitting that he’s suddenly more in tune with his own feelings. and, with that, comes a new awareness of how his and julie’s feelings interact, starting with this moment in 1.08.

you can see his conflict over her declaration. she’s worried without knowing just how much there is to be worried about, and that makes him sad because it’s confirmation of the fact that he’s important to her. that losing him will mean a lot of pain for her. but instead of cluing her in, he makes a conscious choice to continue withholding the information of his imminent departure. and maybe it’s such a weak deflection because he’s already starting to come to terms with how unfair he’s being to her, but even so, he’s not being a good friend when julie is showing up for him in big, unexpected ways he’d never even thought to ask for.

and again, here —

— just after they’ve acknowledged that there’s a something and not a nothing between them, you can see him sober with the thought that she doesn’t know they’re about to lose each other. but it’s still not enough to move him to share. maybe because he prefers that she live with the possibility of that something when he no longer can, maybe because he’s too caught up in his own feelings about how crappy this hand they’ve been dealt by the universe is. but in any case, he keeps tight-lipped.

UNTIL.

it’s seeing her excited about a future their music can’t have that finally pushes him into coming clean. and i love how subtly this demonstrates that he has been paying attention, actually, and he knows that what hurt julie the most was the feeling that their music took a backseat to his past. if he crosses over without telling her the whole, ugly truth about the mistake he made by standing her up, then he crosses over stuck in that mistake. because part of that whole, ugly truth is the beautiful realization that no music is worth making, julie, if we’re not making it with you. and he’s not quite at that particular aspect of his truth yet — he still has to experience the what if of caleb’s club to be able to make the declaration with the conviction he does — but when he finally does tell her that and means it, she’s given the catharsis she’s needed since the dance. because he’s backing up his apology with action (i.e. being willing to literally no longer exist instead of making music with someone else) and providing her with the same consideration she showed him when she rejoined the band because his loss felt more important than her anger. and reaching that level of give and take in their relationship, physically represented in their hug, finally sets them free.

so, yes. even though 1.06 is clunky and a little tasteless at times, i can acknowledge that the story manages to win any missteps back. quite poetically, honestly. all’s forgiven.

#julie and the phantoms #jatpedit #jatp meta #julie molina #luke patterson #reggie peters #alex mercer #gifs by catty #long post #am i disappointed with myself for not being able to include any gifs from 1.09 because i reached the limit already #yes. absolutely.#should i have split this post into two parts to fit it all?#maybe so #will i do anything about it?#obviously not #FATED BANDMATES #melody & words #together my cats can queue anything

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kj-1130 · 4 years

Text

Nothing For Me

Part 5

(gifs not mine)

Main Masterlist

Part 4|Part 6

It was a strange sense of deja vu; except this time you weren’t staring at the glow in the dark stars that still lingered across the ceiling, you were staring at the back of your eyelids. Your thoughts still played loud in your head. They were like a playlist that was on repeat and you couldn’t press the pause button.

It was noisy but empty, if that made sense. A strange, but not unusual feeling to you.

The demons crawled into your head, made it their home and decorated it. And you just couldn’t find the strength to kick them out.

The back of your eyelids became something you had grown accustomed to staring at. If you weren’t awake and suffering at the will of your own mind, you were sleeping--hoping that your thoughts would turn off then.

You couldn’t see the light from the tv, but you could hear it. The ‘f.r.i.e.n.d.s.’ theme song was quite an interesting mix with the yells of ‘no one cares,’ ‘you’re invisible,’ or ‘just disappear.’

But you couldn’t sleep because the music was so damn loud. Apparently, the avengers retrieved the scepter and were celebrating. You were invited to attend by Natasha, but you didn’t have the willpower; to talk to perverted business men all night or to get out of bed--either one.

So you tried to ignore the sound of faint chatter and clinking glasses. Or maybe you would listen to it; it was undoubtedly better than whatever was going on inside your noggin.

Time passed. You didn’t know what time it was. Time is an illusion anyway.

The days were all just one big blob of nothingness to you at this point. Everyday, you felt the same, did the same thing, thought the same thoughts. So what’s the point of trying to tell whether the darkness you saw was from outside or from the back of your eyelids.

The back of your eyelids. What a strange sense of deja vu…

Stars reminded you of Michelle. The two of you always watched the stars together. It was your thing.

You’d never thought you’d have a thing with anyone. You were glad you had one with MJ.

You opened your eyes. The stars that were stuck to the ceilings seemed like they grew dimmer over the years--just like your eyes.

It was significantly quieter than it was before. You guessed everyone had homes to return to. What was a home?

Your mom was your home. But she’s gone now.

Maybe Michelle could become your home. Yeah. She keeps you warm and you do the same for her. Maybe she could be your home.

Pounding footsteps were heard throughout the hall. As tired as you were, your curiosity won out. You slowly sat up despite your body’s protest and made your way towards the door. Yeah, if you were in a horror movie, you definitely would’ve been dead by now.

Just as you were about to reach out for the handle, the door flung open causing you to jump back. Looking up, your eyes connected with red ones.

“You’ll do just fine, little Stark.”

The two former agents sped down the long halls of the tower. They reached the door and saw splinters all over the ground.

Natasha slowly walked in on high alert. She and Clint searched around the room; the bathroom, closet, anywhere where someone could hide.

The redhead faced her friend with a forlorn look on her face. Her head shook slowly.

“She’s gone.”

You were in your room--your old room. There was music playing downstairs; Whitney Houston. An artist your mom would listen to during her free time.

“Mom?”

You ran down the steps into the kitchen and stood at the entryway. She stood with her back to you. Her fro was pulled into a messy puff and she was wearing her robe; the same robe you would wear as a cape.

It smelled like french toast. You always ate french toast together on the second Saturday of the month. It was tradition.

“Mom?”

Her head lifted and she turned to face you. Instead of her glowing and blemish free skin and that beautiful, gentle smile, all you saw was a decaying body. The jaw was hanging by one side. It was as if tissue or muscle was stuck to her face and just gradually melting off.

“Hi sweetheart.”

You gasped and backed into the well causing one of the paintings to fall.

Your mom chuckled and when you looked back, her face was normal.

“You’re always so clumsy.”

Your breathing was still labored. You watched as the woman you knew as a mother picked up the piece of art. It was the one she got from her mother--your grandmother.

“You okay? You’re looking a little flustered.”

She strode towards you and rested a hand on your cheek and then your forehead.

You resisted the urge to flinch as her cold skin made contact with yours.

“C’mon. Let’s eat.”

Your body was on autopilot as you followed her to the counter. She passed you a plate and took a seat next to you.

“Useless,” was whispered and disappeared into the wind.

You looked behind you with furrowed eyebrows and a frown.

“You okay?”

You glanced at your mom before nodding.

“Yeah. Thought I heard something.”

“I’m glad I died.”

You whipped your head towards her and found the mummified version looking at you once again.

You stood and set your fork down before running up the stairs. You entered the bathroom and locked the door before sliding down the far wall.

The door was thrown open before her figure flew over to you.

Your eyes shot open and you sat up with a gasp.

Everything hurt. It all hurt.

Frantically, you pushed yourself to the corner of whatever room you were in regardless of what the throb of your head was telling you.

The rocks began crunching as if someone was walking on them. Your head whipped around in every direction trying to figure out where the noise was coming from.

“Your father took everything from us.”

“Yeah. Well he’s a taker not a giver.”

Your mom always told you your mouth would get you in trouble. You just hoped she wasn’t right at this moment.

Looking up, you were met with two pairs of eyes; one a woman the other a man.

They both seemed significantly older than you. The woman walked closer and bent down in front of you and her eyes started glowing red. You began hyperventilating, praying she wouldn’t harm you.

She lifted her hand to your temple and rested her fingers there.

“It’s time we get our revenge.”

All you saw was a decaying body. The jaw was hanging by one side. It was as if tissue or muscle was stuck to her face and just gradually melting off.

“Hi sweetheart.”

Your head was pounding and your neck was killing you. Groaning, you craned your neck and searched your surroundings.

Hands touched your shoulders gently. But it didn’t matter how gentle it was because you didn’t want anyone touching you with their hands that could kill you with the right movements.

You swatted them away from you--with your own hands that didn’t stand a chance against a lot of people.

“Woah, hey, hey, hey. Kid, calm down.”

Rubbing your eyes, you looked around as your vision cleared. In front of you stood Clint. His face was decayed; just like your mom’s.

You scrambled back and curled up in the corner of the corner closest to you.

“Hey. You’re safe. You’re okay,” he said gently.

Your gaze transferred from one area of the jet to another frantically. You wanted something to stand out at you; make it’s obnoxiousness force the visual of it in your brain. Anything would be better than seeing her face like that.

You didn’t even notice the archer moving closer to you until he rested his hand on your shoulder. You flinched hard and gently pushed it off of you.

Clint nodded in understanding and continued to kneel in front of you.

“We’re about 15 minutes from a safe house, alright? You can eat something and then rest there. That okay?”

Nodding your head, you leaned back against the wall and took a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart.

The most powerful thing you knew of was Cap’s shield. Seems like that witch was taking that spot.

True to Clint’s word, the jet landed less than 15 minutes later. You were the last out although Steve did end up waiting for you. His hand landed on your shoulder and when you turned to look at it, all you saw was bones and tissue. You stumbled back and hit your back on the quinjet.

The supersoldier looked at you with worried eyes before slowly walking away.

You watched the backs of the superheroes get smaller as they walked towards the porch of the safe house.

Is that what they were? Heroes? Everyone always described them as these indestructible beings that would always be there to help civilians and save the day. But who was going to save them?

They didn’t look so indestructible. They just looked like a group of people with the weight of the world--no universe on their shoulders.

Watching everyone enter the house, you decided to follow a moment later. Cap, ever the gentleman he was, held the door open for you and let it shut once you slipped inside.

“I know all your names,” the woman who stood next to the archer said. She scanned the group before her eyes landed on you, her head tilting slightly.

You tuned out the rest of the conversation as you looked around the house--no home. It looked like a home. Not some model house that some cookie cutter family lives in. A home where parents were raising their children to be themselves and nurturing them with love and care.

The room wasn’t spotless. There were legos and toys on the floor. It didn’t smell like cleaning supplies. It smelt like a homemade meal; one that would make any stress from the day just melt away.

A hand tugged on the sleeve of your shirt causing you to glance down. It looked just like the other ones; just a decaying, withering hand.

You flinched in response and quietly stepped away, not wanting to cause a scene. Rubbing your eyes, you looked down and saw a little girl that didn’t even seem the slightest bit fazed by your little episode.

“Can you play dollies with me?”

“Actually,” Clint cut in. “She needs to rest. (Y/n) can play after a nap, alright?”

The little girl nodded and went to minding her business.

The archer placed a gentle hand on your back and you tensed under his touch. You heard him whisper to his wife before the two led you up stairs.

“You good to clean yourself up?”

You grabbed the towel and extra clothes out of his hands and sat them down on the bathroom counter.

“I’m fine, Clint,” you muttered while pushing him out of the room.

You sat in the bed of the spare room that Clint’s wife, who you learned was Laura, said that you could stay in.

A knock reverberated through the room, the sound of the door opening following suit.

You felt a dip in the bed, but you refused to look up from the spot on the covers.

You didn’t want to see a decaying face.

You didn’t want to see someone dead.

You didn’t want that image stuck in your brain like a starred picture on google photos. You didn’t want to give your mind a chance to somehow twist it all around--inside, over and out--and convince you that it was all your fault.

You just wanted to have a few seconds of peace instead of the roaring tides that were washing through your head, even if it was false.

“What did she make you see?”

You swiped your tongue over your dry lips and shook your head.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

There was a moment of silence and continued to mess with the unraveling thread in the blanket.

“Look at me then.”

You hesitated, but eventually lifted your head.

“I said look at me, not at the wall. Look at me.”

Taking a deep breath your lip began to tremble.

“Please.”

“Don’t make me do it,” you whispered.

A hand was turning you towards her before you could even stop it, but you managed to close your eyes.

“Whatever she showed you is not real. I’m here and I always will be.”

You only saw her ivory skin and forest green eyes. There were no visible bones or muscles. Just her red hair and sad smile.

Your eyes fitted around her face, making sure that it wasn’t a cruel trick your mind was trying to play on you.

Natasha lovingly patted your cheek and pressed a light kiss to your forehead.

“Let’s get some rest, alright?”

You couldn’t rest, long story short.

It was so noisy up there and you just couldn’t get it to calm down.

Every time you closed your eyes, somebody’s dead body was infiltrating your mind. Whether it was Clint or his kids, Natasha or MJ.

MJ. Oh shit.

You threw the covers off your body and slowly lifted yourself from the bed. Making your way downstairs, you heard some chatter coming from near the kitchen.

“I thought you were dead.”

A hand immediately flew up to your mouth as if that would stop the words that already came out of your mouth. Muttering a ‘my bad’ you walked up towards the group of adults while simultaneously scanning your surroundings.

“I am,” replied Fury.

Clearing your throat you took in a deep breath. But before you could speak, somebody beat you to it.

“What are you doing here, kid?”

You rolled your eyes and prepared to talk.

“Does anyone have a phone I can borrow?”

Practically everyone raised their eyebrows at you in confusion. You let out a sigh and started wringing your hands

“I-I need to call MJ. Please.”

When it was clear that desperation was shining through your eyes, Laura was quick to get up.

“Sure, honey.”

Everyone else was left confused.

“Who the hell is MJ?”

Laura gave you a phone and told you, you could call from the couch.

You were swift to dial her phone number and bring the device to your ear. You bit your lip, waiting for your friend to pick up which she did after the fourth ring.

“Who is this?”

While you were grateful the phone was picked up, it wasn’t who you wanted to answer.

“I-it’s (y/n). I-i-i’m just calling from a d-different number. I-Is M-MJ home?”

You knew all the adults were staring at you and as much as it made your skin itch and crawl, you didn’t care about it as much as you cared about talking to MJ.

There was shuffling on the other side so you could only assume that her mother was traveling around their apartment.

“Thank goodness. I thought you died or something,” she chuckled.

A smile rose to your face before you could even think about it.

“I mean, close but no.”

“I-You know what? I’m not even gonna ask.”

“It’ll probably be on the news by the end of this week anyway.”

You had finally relaxed into the couch and pulled your knees to your chest. You could still feel them staring holes in your skull and it was making you feel like you were exposed and vulnerable.

It was silent for a moment before you heard let out a sigh MJ let out a sigh.

“Are you okay?”

“I-I don’t know.”

“Do you wanna come over and talk about it?”

You let out a hum before answering, “I can’t”

“Why? A-are you hurt? If so, I can come over there and-”

“No. I literally cannot-”

“It’s not a big deal. I can-”

“I’m in another state.” There was a pause on the other side of the call. “Or country. I-I don’t know where I am.”

You heard the girl clear her throat before taking a deep breath, obviously processing what you just told her.

“So that’s what you meant when you said-”

“Yeah…”

You clicked your tongue a couple of times, wondering what was going through Michelle’s head at the moment as the silence lingered.

“I guess you’re not in Kansas anymore.”

You let out a small chuckle, something you only seemed to do in MJ’s presence.

“No longer in Kansas.”

The conversation could no longer continue as you heard your friend’s mom yell for her.

“Well, I gotta go.”

“Yeah, I guess I’ll talk to you later.”

The two of you never said ‘goodbye’ to each other not wanting it to feel like it was the ending of something.

You handed the phone back to Clint’s wife and made your trek back to the stairs before you stopped.

“Where am I exactly?”

The archer blinked owlishly at you while you stared at him with a raised eyebrow. You shrugged before continuing your way to the room you were staying in.

“Eh. I’ll figure it out.”

“What’s that even supposed to mean?”

“You’ll see.”

They left. Again. Not surprising.

You should be used to it by now. They had people to save anyway.

It was late at night and you couldn’t sleep--what’s new?

You didn’t want to bother anyone but you just couldn’t stand the commotion. You couldn’t stand that being the only thing you’re focused on.

You decided to go to the kitchen to see if Laura needed help with anything considering she did just have a whole team of unexpected guests.

The scene downstairs, kind of seemed… upsetting to you. The lights were dimmed, it was quiet, and the woman you were searching for was hunched over a cup of tea.

“Are you okay?”

Stupid question.

The brunette’s head snapped up and she met your gaze. Her eyes held a melancholy undertone in them and you just couldn’t imagine what was swirling in her mind.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

You took a seat next to her on the couch and fiddled with your hands.

“I just… worry sometimes, you know?”

“Yeah. Clint can be an idiot sometimes.”

You both shared a chuckle but the deafening silence still returned. The air flowing through the home could be heard. You could probably hear the kids’ breathing if you tried hard enough.

“Why are you still up?”

“Why are you still up? Isn’t that like, bad for the baby or something?”

Through the corner of your sight, you could see Laura shaking her head at you as a small smile danced across her lips.

“I asked first.”

You let out a sigh and shrugged your shoulders.

“Just...couldn’t sleep I guess.”

The woman nods in response and takes a sip of her tea. It was obvious to her that something else was on your mind but she didn’t pry and you were thankful for that.

Instead, she just grabbed the remote and turned the television on, an episode from the sitcom Living Single playing quietly.

A weight was felt on Laura’s shoulder and she looked down to see the young teenager resting with small breaths escaping her parted lips. The woman was careful to free an arm and wrap it around your shoulders, you subconsciously snuggling in further.

Walking down the halls of the compound, you searched all the doors. As you reached one, you raised your fist to knock only for the door to fly open before you could.

You clear your throat before looking towards the ground.

“May I, may I come in?”

The person nods and you hesitantly step inside the room and take a seat at the desk.

“I’m sorry about your brother.”

“Me too,” Wanda nods.

There was this awkward, tense silence that just floated through the room that seemed almost impossible to get rid of. It was suffocating.

“I’m sorry about the uhhh, whole mind thing.”

You too nodded in response and gave your reassurance, your mind focused on her accent. It was comforting to say the least.

It had been at least two weeks after the whole ultron thing. Tony was obviously oblivious to what happened to you.

When he ignored or neglected you, it was like a paper cut--never acknowledged or thought about until something provokes it.

You had passed the witch a few times in passing, but never truly held a conversation with her.

You knew of the passing of her brother and you knew how hard it was--is to lose a loved one. Especially if that loved one was the only one that made you feel like you weren’t completely and utterly alone.

“I know it’s not my place to say but,” you paused to take a deep breath. “Don’t let this hold you back. I-I was never given the chance to grieve my m-mom properly and, and I don’t want what happened to me to happen to you, I guess.”

At this point, you felt like you were just spitballing. You figured she already knew what was going on in your head so why not just be open about it.

“And I’m pretty sure the others will come around. Clint seemed to like you.”

The corner of Wanda’s mouth lifted a little and she gave a breathy laugh.

“And I guess, I like you too.”

“Thanks.”

You took a moment to gather yourself before heading towards the door.

“I guess I’ll see you around.”

“So to recap, you were kidnapped by a robot with murderous tendencies, got your mind manipulated by an enhanced individual, and now you’re living and somewhat acquaintances with said ‘enhanced individual’.”

“Yeah, that’s about it.”

Michelle chuckled in response and shook her head in disbelief.

“That’s crazy.”

You shrugged with a frown and scooted closer to her. Your shoulders were touching but neither of you moved.

“Eh, I’m kind of getting used to the crazy.”

You were watching the stars on the roof of her building again. MJ brought some snacks and a blanket which the two of you were currently snuggled up in.

The food was eaten quite quickly and silence was quick to wash over the two of you. But the silence wasn’t like it was with Wanda or even Laura. With MJ it was a peaceful and serene moment; like the two of you were in this indestructible bubble that only you two were allowed in. With her you felt safe.

You turned your head towards Michelle only to find her already looking at you. Both of your faces heated up but neither of you could look away. Instead, grins rose to both of your faces before the girl pulled you closer to her.

Yeah. Michelle was home.

----------------

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oneletteredwondered · 4 years

Text

One of the Boys

Virgil is a new tenant to an apartment complex and his landlord seems real nice. He told Virgil that should he ever need anything fixed to just give a call. He managed to get over the anxiety of calling someone for help, now he needs to get over the gay panic he experiences every time his landlord sends ‘one of the boys’ over.

Pairing: Everyone has a crush on Virgil who is also gay for everyone.

Warnings: panic descriptions from talking over the phone/to new people. Possible second hand embarrassment, swearing

Prompt pic at the end.

In all fairness, Virgil loves his new place. Way more than the old place he used to live at least. At least here the walls weren’t cracked and seemed sturdy enough that he wouldn’t be able to hear his neighbors through them. While he does his sweep of the place, writing down anything that might be wrong so the landlord can’t blame them on him, there’s barely anything broken or messed up. A clear step up from his old apartment.

“What you say Oogies?” Virgil nods to the black cat lounging on the cat tower after he’s finished his walk through. The cat stares at him, he stares back. They blink slowly at the same time and Virgil puffs out a breath. OogieBoogie wasn’t fond of the move. Complaining loudly at every jostle of the cat carrier. Virgil wanted to let her out but couldn’t until all his stuff was moved in for her safety. Seems like he’s forgiven.

“Come on lazy bones,” He finagles the cat out of the tower and she curls over his shoulders, paws dipping into the hood of his hoodie, and purrs. He smiles and scratches at her chin. For the most part she blends into the patterned fabric, her grey stripes the only thing that pop out, and even then only barely.

Virgil locks the apartment door, cat on his shoulders, and walk-through papers in hand. They walk their way around the complex and to the main office building. Virgil almost hesitates, thinking maybe he should go tomorrow morning at a better time, but OggieBoogie nuzzles his head encouragingly.

“Yeah okay,” He whispers to the animal, knowing she’s smug as he opens the door. It’s fluorescently bright. There’s no one at the front desk. Virgil takes two steps, and nearly backs out, when a friendly face pops out of one of the offices.

“Oh Virgil!” Virgil lets out a sigh of relief. He recognizes the elderly face

“Hey Mr Sanders,” He gives an awkward wave. The cheery man laughs.

“You may call me Thomas you know,” He says smiling at his cat and waving to the animal. She blinks at him.

“Right, yeah, course, Mr. Thomas yeah,” Virgil says. Thomas gives him a fond smile but doesn’t correct him. Thank god. Thomas helped him fill out lease papers when he first came to check out new apartments. Honestly a blessing as Virgil had no idea what he was doing. Bonus that Thomas professed the place to be queer friendly as well. Virgil hung up his rainbow flag in the window the moment he found it.

“Oh I brought the walk through papers back,” He hands them over and Thomas takes them happily.

“Everything good so far?” He asks. Virgil nods, nothing on there that he thought needed fixing, at least right away.

“Oh,” Thomas says softly. Virgil tenses and Oogie starts purring on his shoulder to comfort him.

“Are you having problems with the lights?” Thomas asks, very sincerely. Virgil shrugs a little and Oogie shifts to accommodate his motions.

“Not really, nothing serious,” He tries to play it off. Thomas pouts at his papers.

“Some of the plugs not screwed in properly, not working, a light out in the laundry area,” Thomas ‘tsks’ as he reads off Virgil’s writing. He perks up and offers Virgil a bright smile.

“No worries at all! I’ll send one of the boys over to fix it.” He offers Virgil a wink and riffles through his pockets. He pulls out his wallet and inside it a business card for the office that he promptly hands over.

“You ever need anything fixed, do not be afraid to call ya hear?” Virgil just nods, taking the card with him.

“Wait the boys?” He finds himself questioning. Thomas smiles again with a flippant wave of his hand.

“It’s the name of the contractor company I have hired here for the apartments. Someone should be over in about an hour to help you with the lights.” And with that Thomas is walking away to his own office, leaving Virgil to go back to his new home.

“Shit,” He mutters as he now realizes. Company coming over, and his new home is a mess. He walks quicker than he normally does to try and clean a little before ‘one of the boys’ makes it over. Oogie is not as impressed.

Virgil does well distracting himself. He organizes the boxes and even rearranges the hazardously brought in furniture to his liking. Oogie is lounging in her cat tower again, watching him try not to be frantic. He’s in the middle of putting some tupperware containers in the cabinets when there’s a knock on the door.

He wipes his hands on his jeans to make sure they’re not sweaty, and opens the door. Somewhere in the back of his mind he debates slamming it shut but in the end remains frozen with the front door wide open. Cause there in front of him is an absolutely gorgeous guy, hair slicked back and a cunning smile.

“Good afternoon, my name is Damien. Mr. Sanders said you needed help with some of your lights?” His voice sounds like silk and though there’s a long scar across side of his face, it takes nothing away from his beauty.

“Uh yeah.” Virgil says awkwardly.

“Yeah, yeah,” He says even more awkwardly and moves to the side to let the guy in.

“Much appreciated,” The guy, Damien says. Virgil can’t tell if the dude is cheeky or not, but damn is he flustered trying not to stare at his arms and the way he moves in those white jeans. Who wears white jeans to fix things? Virgil should send them a thank you note.

“Which plugs were having issues?” Damien asks then and Virgil decides words are not needed just this moment and deigns to gesture as best he can. Damien smiles at him and sets to work straightening some of the plugs out and replacing one in the corner when he notices a crack in the casing.

“Excuse me, miss.” He hears Damien say and peeks over his kitchen counter to see Damien gently nudging Oogie away from some of his tools. Virgil whines.

“Oogies come on let the man do his job,” Virgil goes over and scoops the cat up, petting her head to keep her from getting annoyed that she couldn’t continue with her curiosity. Damien laughs though and stands, now taking out the walk through Virgil so diligently wrote not 2 hours ago.

“You said that some of the plugs don’t work and that some of the switches don’t lead to anything?” He glances at Virgil with just a hint of a smirk. Virgil hugs Oogie a little tighter to keep his gay panic from spiraling.

“Yeah just seemed weird? I didn’t know if it was something wrong or what,” He says with a shrug, trying to seem nonchalant. Damien lets out a small laugh and waves Virgil to follow. He pulls out a small plug in light and pushes into one of the sockets Virgil said wasn’t working. He flicks the switch on the wall and the light pops on.

“Oh,” Virgil says and wants to die of embarrassment.

“Well now I feel stupid as fuck,” He says. Damien lets out another laugh, flicking the light twice more to demonstrate.

“It’s to save power that some of the switches lead to the plugs. Nothing broken there. You’re not stupid because you didn’t know.” He takes back his light and once more gives Virgil that sly smile. The worst is he smiles in a way that makes it seem like he knows what he’s doing to Virgil, which is just rude. Except he’s not, Damien is insanely polite which does not help Virgil in the slightest.

“Is there anything else I can help you with?” Damien asks as he puts the last of his tools back in the case.

“Nah. I’m good, thank you,” Virgil says, determined not to make a fool of himself this time. Damien nods his head.

“Have a good rest of your day then. It was a pleasure meeting you,” And this smug bastard winks at him and closes the door behind him. Virgil lets Oogie fall to the floor, picks up the nearest pillow, and screams into it. At least he can do it with proper working lights.

Virgil is freaking out. There’s no other way to put it. He is freaking out. So he got a little lazy and didn’t do his dishes. He’s been working so often and never found the energy to keep up. He decided he had a dishwasher for a reason, and even though he felt bad because the machine wasn’t even full, he ran it, and now there is water over the floor. Shit.

He sits on the couch, legs bouncing, with his phone in his hands. Thomas’s number is on the screen, ready to be dialed at the press of a button. Virgil still isn’t sure if this counts as a proper emergency. He managed to clean up most the water with some of his towels, but water is still coming out. Maybe if he just keeps rinsing out the towels and waits for the cycle to be done, he can pretend it never happened.

OogieBoogie jumps into his lap. She kneeds at his leg and is put out when he doesn’t move right away to pet her or give her proper access to his lap. She bumps her head against him and pushes her way to his chest, knocking his phone with her foot in the process.Virgil hisses at the action and ruffles her face in revenge.

“Hello?” A very faint voice calls out. Virgil swears softly and picks up his phone.

“Uh Mr Sanders Thomas?” He says into the receiver, then pulls it away to stare at the ceiling to briefly wonder what is wrong with himself.

“Yes?” Thomas says on the other line.

“It’s Virgil from Unit 16 B.”

“Virgil! How are you?” Thomas doesn’t sound put out that Virgil is calling him, which is a good sign so far. Virgil takes a deep breath, hands working methodically though Oogie’s fur.

“Doing okay yeah, how are you?” He says, it’s important to be polite. Thomas laughs.

“Doing good over here. What can I help you with?”

“Uhm, my dishwasher is leaking? And there’s water on the floor and I don’t know how to fix it. You said I could call if something is wrong and I just, yeah.” Virgil shrugs to himself. Thomas gasps on the other end.

“Oh no! That won’t do. I’ll send one of the boys over to help clean it up.” And Thomas hangs up. Virgil stares at the phone, then at his cat, then back at the dishwasher. He really doesn’t want Damien to see him embarrassed like this again. He buries his face in Oogie’s side and lets her purr calm him down. He must be there for a while because soon enough there’s a knock on the door.

Thankfully, it’s not Damien on the other end. However, it’s another incredibly attractive guy with a wild smile and even wilder hair that makes Virgil tense up because how. This one wears a shirt with the sleeves ripped off to show how ripped their arms are, and again, white jeans, though this time, the jeans are not as white as they once were, evidence of the work that has been done in them.

“Afternoodle! I’m Remus. The Sander’s Man said something was wishy-washy with your dishy-washy?” His smile in untamed and Virgil stares at him dumbly trying to understand what the hell just came out of his mouth.

“Yes?” He ends up asking more than saying, and moves over so Remus can come inside.

“Much appreciated, now what is gong on here?” Remus smirks down at the mess of the kitchen with his hands on his hips.

“I just ran the dishwasher and water started coming out. I was in the kitchen when I felt it on my foot.” Virgil explains as Remus moves some of the soaked towels over. He finagles the machine to open, something Virgil was too scared to try.

“Oh boy, I see. Give me one hot second here hot tamale, and I’ll get this all cleaned up.” Virgil isn’t sure what he should be more flustered by. Being called hot by a hot guy, or the fact the dude flexed while talking and there is some serious definition in his arms. So Virgil just nods as Remus skips out to the maintenance golf cart outside the door, and brings back in a tool box.

Virgil watches from over the counter as Remus pulls out the racks and practically crawls his way into the dishwasher. Virgil decides it’s a good time to walk away so he doesn’t end up staring at Remus’s ass while he works. That’s not proper behavior for someone who is trying to help.

It’s a few minutes, one colorful yet not quite a swear, and a victory noise later that Virgil feels okay going back to the kitchen area.

“Oh! Hello~ pusspuss!” Virgil gets to watch the exact moment Remus looks up to see Oogie staring at him working. Virgil scoops the cat up.

“Sorry she’s really into strangers.” He says. Though really, she hides from everyone. Remus lets out a cackle of a laugh.

“That’s fine, I’m into strangers too. So I fixed the problem here, no more soggy floors for you. Make sure to run it every so often so it keeps things going clean and unclogged.” Remus says far too quickly for Virgil to respond properly. He picks up his tools and returns them to the case. Virgil does a half-assed job of not staring at his back which is now water soaked.

“Is there anything else I can help you with?” Remus asks at the door. Virgil shakes his head.

“As long as it works I think I’m good,” He says. Remus smiles openly.

“Have a good rest of your day then!” He says and closes the door behind him. There was really no reason for him to flex as he said that but Virgil enjoyed it and no one else has to know.

“Shit shit shit,” Virgil is fumbling. He had to go grocery shopping and get some cat food for OogieBoogieBaby. And no self respecting trash panda such as himself would dream of carrying it back inside in more than one trip. So he’s fumbling with his arms lined with bags that would be cutting into his skin if not for his hoodie sleeves, but even then, those are falling and he wishes it wasn't so hot out.

He manages to make it to his door, shift some bags around so he can get his key out, when the bag of cat food starts slipping. Virgil can see it now, cat food all over the front porch to either collect ants, or other cats, or any other large animal. He wouldn’t feed it to Oogie, to afraid of what is on the ground and if it’ll upset her stomach. He braces for impact and for another quick trip to the store.

“Whoa!” Virgil feels the weight leave him but not the crash. He blinks at the ground, then at a pair of white jeans, then at the bag of cat food in someone else’s arms, then up to the face of a bespectacled stranger with brilliant blue eyes.

“Are you alright?” Stranger asks calmly and takes another bag from Virgil that looks ready to topple at a second’s notice. Virgil snaps out of it once it’s out of his hands.

“Shit yeah thanks,” He breathes out in a rush, thankful as all hell as he manages to finally get the door open. He pushes it with his hip and Oogie is waiting at the door for him, meowing up at him. He coos a greeting to her and sets the bags down in the kitchen, the stranger follows only to the inside door and puts the bags down there to not intrude.

“Thank you so much,” Virgil says once he’s done pretending he can carry that much. The stranger just offers him a small smile, kneeling down to let Oogie sniff his gardening glove covered hands.

“It was my pleasure to help you. My name is Logan, I’m one of the workers on site.” He says and stands. His voice is low and calming, it would make for a great audio book, and Virgil is not going to spend the rest of the day thinking about that.

“Though I do apologize for suddenly grabbing your things, I know that can come across as ‘creepy’ and I do not wish for that to be my first impression.” He pries a glove off and holds out his hand. Virgil takes it and gives it a small shake.

“I’m Virgil, and this is OogieBoogie,” He introduces himself and his cat who has deigned to jump on the counter and sniff at the contraption on Logan’s back. He gently pushes the cat away with a soft look in his eyes.

“Pleasure to meet both of you. None for you I’m afraid,” He chides Oogie gently. Virgil swallows because damn, someone interacting gently with his cat more of a heart throb than originally intended. And Logan is nothing if not simply scholarly stunning.

“My apologies again, be sure to let someone know if there’s anything we can help you with. Have a wonderful rest of your day,” Logan nods his head softly and there is just the smallest crinkle around his eyes hidden under his glasses and Virgil is so weak as he closes the door to his apartment. He’s come into contact with one too many pretty people at this complex and it will be the death of him. Still, it is nice to wave to Logan every so often as he preens the landscaping around the buildings.

Virgil watches as water drips down the window. It started the other day after some rains. He put a towel under it to keep some of the water from ruining anything, but it’s still going the next day. Virgil sighs and looks at his phone, Thomas’s number on the screen. He takes a deep breath and presses call.

“Hello?” Thomas answers.

“Hey Mr. Thomas it’s Virgil, from Unit 16 B.” A practiced line. Thomas gives a happy gasp.

“Virgil how are you?” Thomas always sounds excited to speak to him. It helps.

“Doing okay, how are you?” He asks, absently petting Oogie’s back.

“Good good! How can I help you?” Thomas asks in turn. Virgil looks at the window.

“Something’s up with my window? It’s like.. leaking.” He explains but not really. Thomas hums.

“Did this start up with the rain?”

“Yeah, I’ve tried cleaning it with towels but it keeps going.” Virgil says. Thomas makes another hum noise.

“Sounds like a problem with the roof. I’ll send one of the boys over.” And Thomas hangs up. Virgil isn’t as put off with the abrupt ending, expecting it this time around. He glares at the window and goes to wait for ‘one of the boys’. Oogie follows over and demands pets. It a decent distraction till a loud knock comes from the door.

Virgil opens it and it's just unbelievable how down right beautiful this guy is. His hair in perfect waves and a charming smile on his face. His sleeves are also cut like Remus's were, but far less frayed.

"Wonderful morning, my name is Roman. Our dear Mr. Sanders told me there were some ill issues with the roof is that right?" He speaks with such confident flamboyance Virgil is a loss for words.

"Yeah," Is all he manages to say. He's pretty. Way too pretty for this.

"Yeah, sorry it's over here," He turns and leaves the door open for Roman to follow. Roman laughs loud and proud and does just that. Virgil shows him the window and does not bit his lip as Roman jostles the frame showing off muscles that are illegal.

"The panes seems closed but I'll check outside as well." He turns and heads out the door. Virgil follows.

"And the roof?" He asks. Roman offers him a dashing smile, checking his tools that he attaches to his belt, holding up pristine white jeans.

"You may hear some noises for a while as I'm up there, but fear not, I'll find the problem." He gives Virgil a wink and with ease, he finds a ledge on the building and hoists himself up. Virgil does not squeak. Certainly not cause he's scared that Roman will fall, and certainly not cause he rolls his shoulders and Virgil can see his body move and god damn it he’s so not straight.

So he goes inside and pretends there’s not a real attractive guy fixing his roof. The noises of fixing continue for an hour or so, Virgil keeping busy with cleaning and some mild work emails. Then the noises stop. Virgil glances at his ceiling curiously.

"Uh, Roman?" He calls from his front door, making sure the dude didn't fall off and die.

"Be down in a moment fair tenant!" He hears. Virgil rolls his eyes and barely turns when Roman suddenly lands in front of him.

"Roof is all set. There were a few shingles out of-"

"Did you just jump off the roof?!" Virgil interrupts. Roman blinks at him and has the nerve to smiling so dashingly again.

"I dare say I did," he says as if it's no big deal. Virgil sputters at the reckless, careless, brash attitude. Roman is far too entertained by it.

"I'm honored by the concern, dearest. Just one more moment to check the window from the other side." He winks again and is walking around the building before Virgil can say anything.

He grabs Oogie and plants his face in her fur. Too gay to function. He talks to her plainly about how unfair it is that pretty boys plague his life, only to find out he can absolutely be heard through the window by Roman asking in a muffled voice.

"You think I'm pretty?" Virgil screams and hides in his room, hearing Roman laugh through the wall. This is how he dies, he decides. This is even worse than the time Damien had to tell him his lights weren’t broken, he just didn’t know how to use them. This is so much worse.

He groans loud and dramatically when there’s a knock on his front door. He doesn’t want to open it. But he does, cause it’s rude other wise.Roman stands there, smug expression and a bright smile.

“Checked everything and cleaned up some water. A few shingles out of place and a loose vent, got those all patched down. If it continues to leak it might be a bigger issue so be sure to call if it does. Anything else I can help you with?” He asks. Virgil takes a steady breath to say no.

“I think I’ve dug my own grave enough for today,” He says, further digging his own embarrassment grave. Roman gives another laugh.

“Enchanted to meet you pretty boy, have an amazing rest of your day.” And then Roman honest to goodness bows and drives off in the golf cart. Virgil closes his door softly and looks at Oogie who stares back from her perch on the counter.

“Don’t even start,” He tells the cat. She looks away like she doesn’t know what he’s talking about.

“Boogs! No!” Virgil does not like shouting at his cat. He doesn’t like shouting in general. But it gets OogieBoogieBitchBaby away from the wall she is using as a scratching post. She scampers off as he approaches, fingers going over the claw marks in the wall. He groans to himself.

He moved her cat tower because she kept getting onto his work papers. In revenge for disposing her from her favorite perch and sights of the room, she clawed at the wall instead, leaving a few nasty scratches behind.

“How am I supposed to fix this?” He asks where she’s run off, hearing her run around. He bangs his head on the wall. This is not how he wanted his night to go. In the end, he has Thomas’s number on his phone and piece of paper he tore to shreds in worry over what he could possibly say.

“Hello?” Thomas answers.

“Hey Mr. Sanders, it’s Virgil. I-”

“Virgil! How are you?” Thomas asks. Virgil takes a deep breath.

“I’m- I’m so sorry Mr. Sanders. It was an accident I swear.” He needs to apologize, cause if Mr. Sanders kicks him out, he’ll have to go hunting for places to live again, and who is going to take him with a cat who destroys things, and then because no one will take him, he’ll die on the streets and Oogie will eat his toes.

“My cat Oogie she got upset with me and she clawed the wall and I’m so sorry,” He says in a rush.

“Hey, hey Virgil it’s okay. It happens, our furry friends do funny things. I’ll send one of the boys over to help fix it right up, okay?” Virgil swallows a lump in his throat at Thomas’s easy solution.

“Okay,” He croaks out and then hears the click of someone hanging up. He lets his phone drop and then puts his head in his hands. He doesn’t want to be kicked out his apartment, or to have Mr. Sanders think bad of him as a tenant, or as a bad pet owner. He throws himself back on his couch. He feels so dumb.

Thankfully, there’s a gentle knock to his door. Hopefully his savior in this mess. He opens it to bubbly boy in round glasses, giving him the most cheerful smile Virgil’s ever seen.

“Hey there, evening to you, my name is Patton. Mr. Sanders said we have some kitty claws on the walls?” He asks. Virgil lets his shoulders drop.

“Yeah, I’m so sorry about it.” He says Patton waves his hand.

“It’s not a cat-astrophe, it happens. Can you show me where it is?” He asks. Virgil nods and steps back to let the boy in white jeans in, then pauses.

“Did you just make a pun?” He deadpans. And Patton giggles.

“Sorry, sorry, just slipped out. I’m pawfully bad at them.” He says with a bright smile. Virgil stares at him, then snorts into his hand.

“That was really bad,” He says but Patton just beams at him.

“Got you to laugh though.” And Patton should not sound so proud of making a stranger laugh. Virgil coughs to cover his awkward and shows him where Oogie got to the wall and Patton ‘tuts’ in response, putting down a bag of tools on the floor.

“I have just the thing to get this back in purr-fect conditions.” Patton opens his bag and pulls out some paint and calking. Virgil steps back to let him do his job, very aware that Oogie is hiding somewhere away from him. It makes him nervous to not see his cat in the area. Sure Oogie isn’t a registered therapy animal, but she does a good job of keeping him calm.

“There, al-meow-st done!” Patton smiles at him over his shoulder and adds another coat of paint to the wall, looking good as new. Maybe it’s the puns or the cute, but Virgil does relax.

“Thanks for that.” Virgil says as Patton cleans up. He giggles once more and waves Virgil’s concern off again.

“It’s no big deal, it’s what we’re here for.” He reassures. Virgil sighs and turns to the small meow behind him. Oogie is on the table staring at him. Patton lets out a squeal of happiness.

“Oh she’s precious!” He says in syrupy sweet voice. Virgil snorts again and looks between the two.

“Wanna pet her?” He asks and before he finishes Patton is shaking his head.

“Un-fur-tunately I’m allergic. But she is paws-itively adorable.” Patton coos and waves to the cat, Oogie does nothing in return but that’s to be expected. Virgil rolls his eyes at the both of them.

“Thanks again for your help,” He says. Patton beams and there are freckles on his cheeks. Freckles, too cute, not allowed.

“Of course! Anything else I can help you with?” He asks. Virgil’s turn to shake his head.

“I think we’re good now,” He says. Patton giggles once more.

“Have a claw-some rest of your night,” And that shouldn’t be funny but Virgil snorts again and Patton is proudly walking off.

What the fuck, what the fuck. Virgil stares at the door knob in his hand. He just went for a late walk to get his mail, Oogie joining him on his shoulders. Something rattled in the door knob when he opened it, having to actually shove the door open to get back inside after unlocking it. When he went to close the door, the handle came off in his hand before he could close it proper.

What the fuck.

He stares at the space where the door knob was and his open door. His mind immediately races to all the creepy people who can break in and steal things or kidnap his cat. Or even all the bugs that will make home in his food and hair. Nope. None of that.

“Hey Mr Sanders?” Virgil says first, his anxiety over the open door he can not close for fear it won’t open again overriding his normal fear of calling his land lord.

“Virgil! How are you? It’s very late,” Thomas yawns on the other end. Virgil winces. He probably should have thought this through considering the time.

“I’m okay, so sorry to wake you, it’s just. My door handle uh, fell off?” There’s a pause.

“Well that’s not good.” Thomas says.

“I’ll send one of the boys over.” He hangs up plainly. Virgil has enough time to worry if he made Thomas upset by calling so late, and worry Oogie somehow got out only to find her cuddled in her tower, when the bad lights from the maintenance golf cart shine through the crack in the door.

There’s an awkward knock and Virgil pulls the door open. He’s not sure who in their right mind has sunglasses on this late, but at least this gorgeous person isn’t using them to hide their bright eyes. They give him a quirky smile.

“Well this isn’t something you see every day.” They remark and Virgil has to huff out a laugh, some of his panic subsiding.

“Evening babes, I’m Remy. What happened?” He asks and goes about unscrewing the rest of the door knob, kneeling down and scuffing his white jeans that nearly glow in the darkness. Virgil tells him the lead up and Remy scoffs out a laugh of their own, giving Virgil a glance, that turns into a once over, that shakes him to the core.

“No worries, I can see the broken piece. Easy fix.” He winks at Virgil and gets a spare doorknob from the golf cart. Virgil stand idly by as he fixes it, keeping Oogie from getting too close.

“Wassup cat?” Remy asks and gently puts his knuckles to her head in greeting. She makes a noise and then trots off, satisfied with the attention.

“What’s their name?” Remy asks while he screws things back together.

“That OogieBoogie, Oogie for short, though she’s been more of an OogieBoogieBastard lately.” She meows at Virgil from the top of her tower. He hisses back at her. Remy snorts.

“Nice, I have an orange cat named Pumpkin.”

“Nice,” Virgil says back. Remy smirks at his response and keeps working. Vigil pretends the look on Remy’s face didn’t give him reckless night vibes, that he would take Remy up on if he asked, cause damn, the dude’s hot.

“May I borrow your key for a second babes?” Remy twists the knob a few times and with Virgil’s borrowed key, closes, locks, and opens the door with no problems.

“All good to go, anything else I can help you with?” He asks as he hands back the key. Virgil shakes his head.

“Nah, I’m good, thanks for that,” He says. Remy gives him a wink.

“Have a good night babes.” Another wicked smirk and Virgil does his best to close his door at a proper speed. His heart is pounding and these pretty boys will be the end of him.

“Hi! Welcome in, how can I help you?” Cute, is all Virgil can think when he enters the office. Pastel, is second. There’s a new receptionist at the desk, freckles and a mega-watt smile.

“Hi uh, I got a notification I have a package?” He stammers out. Oogie purrs at his shoulder, reminding him it’s okay.

“Sure! What apartment number?” Virgil rattles off his numbers as the receptionist looks in the package closet.

“For Virgil?” They ask. He nods and takes his box, keeping it away from Oogie as it’s a surprise for her birthday.

“Oh! I’m Emile by the way. I’m working in the office now so if you need anything just give us a call okay?” They’re so earnest. Virgil ends up just nodding his head, only speaking when Oogie bumps her head to his.

“Yeah, thanks,” He says and before he can make an exit Thomas appears from inside one of the offices.

“I thought I head you! Virgil, how are you?” He asks. Virgil gives him a soft smile.

“Good, and you?” It’s only polite. Thomas lets out a laugh.

“Good here too. Say, the staff is hosting a tenant party here, some games and some food, you should join us if you’re not busy.” Thomas hands Virgil a flyer with some gaudy colors. Virgil does a good job of not letting his dislike of the idea show.

“You should totally come!” Emile beams at him and it does something gay to Virgil’s heart. Virgil glances at the two of them smiling at him.

“I could stop by?” He offers not waiting to make them mad at him. They cheer and turn back to their jobs. Virgil walks back to his apartment, petting Oogie as he does.

“What did I just get myself into?” He asks her. She bumps her head to his hand in response.

It’s not a bad turnout for an apartment complex party. Virgil does show up, Oogie situated on his shoulders. Even though its closer to summer, He’s still wearing his hoodie if not just to give her a place to put her paws should she wish to.

There’s those plastic cheap tables lining around the pool area, boxes of pizza and some crinkly plastic containers of mini sub sandwiches sit on top. There’s a section for drinks and cups right next to. Virgil gets himself a cup of lemonade.

He glances about. Some people are playing some bean bag toss game, others are playing on the mini putt putt area Virgil didn’t even know they had. Lots of people are in the pool, messing around and splashing water at each other. He sticks to the sidelines.

“Virgil!” Or maybe not. He looks to who called his name and though he’s happy Logan called for him so he doesn’t have to be alone, he’s lamenting the fact that not only is it Logan, he’s also with Patton, Damien, and Remy. Fuck. Virgil goes bug eyed, giving himself a pep talk, helped along by Oogie making a ‘mrrp’ noise in his ear, and walks to his doom.

“Hey Logan,” Virgil says once he’s close. Patton waves as best he can with hands full of pizza.

“Sup babes?” Remy asks with damn smirk, sunglasses appropriate now. Virgil rolls his eyes.

“Damien, if you don’t remember,” Damien holds out his hand. Virgil of course remembers embarrassing himself in front of freaking sleek attractive Damien, but he isn't about to say that. Virgil takes his hand to shake and Damien flips it to bring a kiss to the back of Virgil’s hand. Virgil’s jaw drops as Patton giggles helplessly.

“Dee don’t do that!” He says but there’s not force behind it. Damien just smiles like the cat that got the cream.

“I didn’t know you two were familiar?” Damien turns the attention to Logan now. Logan just pushes up his glasses.

“I admit to helping Virgil carry in groceries more than once.” Logan says, giving Damien a look that Virgil doesn’t have the power to decipher. Patton whines.

“Kiddo you could have asked for more help,” He says. Virgil shrugs.

“Two trips are for the weak.” He and Remy tap their glasses together in a cheers.

“Yes and I’m sure dropping your groceries is also for the weak.” Logan chides and it does hit a little harder, but still Virgil taps his glass to Remy’s again in a cheers.

“Virgil!” Someone calls and Virgil is blinded by the force of Emile’s smile so suddenly in his face.

“You came!” He’s excited. Virgil nods and takes a step back. Oogie murmurs upset on his shoulder.

“Yep, I said I would and hey, free food.” He ignores the looks the others give each other and Emile just bounces.

“Well I’m glad you’re here. Me and Patton were gunna play corn-hole later, you should join us!” Patton gives an equally excited gasp as Emile gestures to the bean bag toss.

“Uh sure,” Virgil says. Emile bounces and waves, and is off to say hi to other residents as soon as he came. Virgil is reeling from the interaction and it only gets worse.

“Is that pretty boy??” Virgil hears the splash before he sees anyone but then Remus is there in his face, shirtless and in swim trunks and dear god, he has a tramp stamp.

“Hello again stranger~” He coos. Virgil musters up a hi when suddenly another shirtless person is standing next to Remus.

“It is pretty boy! How are you darling?” Roman says. Virgil has officially hit gay panic mode. If the earlier mix of suave and cute wasn’t enough to do him in, the pure amount of muscle now is going to do him in.

“Fine,” He chokes out. Remus and Roman both laugh at his answer. Great. If he hoped for any kind of saving from the others, it’s surely a dashed hope by the amused looks on their faces.

“Are you joining us in the pool?” Remus asks excited. Oogie hisses from his shoulders. Vigil raises a hand to calm her and she nuzzles his knuckles.

“Uh not today.” He says, which is the wrong thing to say.

“But another day?” Remus asks all wild excited. Roman shoves him.

“Like he wants to spend time with your gross ass!” Roman shouts playfully. Patton huffs and calls him for his language but he is ignored. Remus gasps offended with a wild smirk on his face.

“Sure he does, can’t keep his eyes off these guns,” And Remus flexes. Virgil smacks a hand to his face. Oogie dips to hide in his hood. Roman lets out a laugh and firmly shoves Remus back into the pool.

“The only gun he needs is a glock to the face.” Roman puts a fist in his hand, flexing as well. The pun does get Patton to giggle though and Damien rolls his eyes.

“Virgil I am going to get some food, would you like to accompany me?” Logan asks finally done with the nonsense.

“How do you know his name!?” Roman screeches.

“I asked.” Roman let's out an outright offended gasp for whatever reason. He doesn’t get to say another word as Remus from out of no where, runs and tackles Roman back into the pool with no such boundaries.

“Food sounds good,” Virgil says. Logan smiles softly at him.

“I think I shall join you,” Damien says looking into his cup which doesn’t look empty but who is Virgil to judge.

“Come find me and Emile when you’re done okay?” Patton interjects before they can leave. Virgil offers him a two finger salute, and then leaves Patton and Remy to go find Emile, while he finds food.

“Idiots,” Logan mutters once they are away from the pool. Damien hums in thought.

“But not wrong,” He says.

“They aren’t right either.” Logan snaps back.

“Should I go?” Virgil asks as they are clearly not talking to him. Both Damien and Logan look at him scandalized.

“Certainly not!” Damien says and gives him a slick smile. Virgil swallows down his lemonade to keep his throat from clogging up. He spends some time talking to the two of them, making sarcastic comments and opening up. Oogie pops out to lick his hair at one point.

At that, Virgil finds Emile somewhere, letting them know he’ll be right back, wanting to drop Oogie off at home. He’s comfortable enough here to not need her reassurances, besides, she’s tired from napping and needs to go home to sleep. With some ‘hurry back’ wishes, he’s off back to his place.

He makes sure Oogie is comfy and goes to leave, finding Thomas waiting in one of the golf carts outside his door.

“Need a ride?” He offers. Virgil laughs and joins him in the small vehicle.

“Virgil if I may, I have a favor to ask of you?” Thomas says seriously. Virgil nods his head as his lungs refuse to let him breathe for fear of the favor.

“Please be kind to my grand kids yeah?” Thomas asks, an earnest look in his eyes. Virgil isn’t sure what he’s talking about, but then he looks up. All of the boys who have been coming in and out of his life to fix his home are there staring and waiting for him to get back with the same look in their eyes.

Oh. Virgil thinks.

Oh no.

AN: Lol that multiship life

Edit: now with a part 2

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shelby-love · 4 years

Text

FRED WEASLEY

Yule Ball Problems

Requested: yes (by anonymous)

Prompts: none

Warnings: none

Word count: 2.2K

Author’s note: I really like this request especially since the fourth movie is one of my favs, so thank you for requesting it! Just like George's one shot, this will be heavily inspired by the movie (I'm essentially putting the reader into the movie). Before proceeding, I highly recommend rewatching these scenes lol!

Gryffindor practice for the Yule Ball

Fred asks Angelina to the ball (obviously we're pretending it's George who asks her <3)

It was fairly rare to have the Gryffindors sit together in a room mastered by the head teacher. Nevertheless, the entirety of Gordic Gryffindor's current house members has gathered in the spacious room, a million things running through their minds.

McGonagall looked fierce as she appropriated the room like something very serious was going to happen.

Your thoughts seemed to be correct as she whisked her wand in the air, pulling you away from your boyfriend to stand on a completely different side of the room.

You frowned, Fred did too. He was just about to swoop in and kiss you.

"D-did she just?" You asked puzzledly, not quite believing your luck. A couple from seventh year were eating each other's faces in the corner, but she picked you and Fred instead?!

"Yeah," Hermione mused, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. "I think she did."

Fiercely blushing, you sat back down. "I cannot believe my luck."

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked. She herself has been appointed to stand with the girls on the other side, leaving her two best friends to themselves and the boys.

"This is the sixth time she has caught us," you told her, catching Minerva's eyes in that exact moment. You wouldn't be surprised if the woman heard you; she is a cat most of the time, and cats have significantly better hearing than humans do.

"The Yule ball has been a tradition of the-" Professor McGonagall attempted although her words were cut by Flinch as he plotted around the huge record player. "-Triwizard Tournament since its inception."

She shared nothing new.

So, what is she on about?

You glanced at your boyfriend, knowing which one out of the two he is immediately. Fred laughed with his twin about Merlin knows what, picking at Ron in the process. You shook your head, focusing your attention back to your head teacher.

"On Christmas Eve night," she continued, slowly walking in a straight line across the floor. "we and our guests gather in the Great Hall for a night of well-mannered frivolity."

Ginny leaned her head against her shoulder, getting bored. You smiled at the act, deciding to share her enthusiasm by mimicking it.

After a while of being stuck in a singular position you had decided to place your chin on the top of her head instead.

"As representatives of the host school I expect each and every one of you to put your best foot forward, and I mean this literally because the Yule ball is first and foremost..." The dreaded sentence was coming. You could see it in her facial expression. "A dance."

Ginny's head flew up suddenly, banging against yours so hard you had to hold your jaw in pain. "Oh Y/N, I'm so sorry!" she squeaked, palpably petrified with what she has done to her older brother's girlfriend.

"No, no," you waved your hand, testing your jaw by moving it in circular motions. "It's alright Ginny."

"But what if it gives you a bruise?" She asked frightened. "The ball is just around the corner!"

Your eyes widened at that and before you could soothe the girl, Hermione had butted in. "She'll be fine Ginny. Besides, Fred is so smitten by her he genuinely won't care."

"True," you added in agreement, holding your chin after wrapping your free hand around the smaller girl to cheer her up. Ginny calmed down and returned to her bright, usual self soon after.

The quick accident helped you better ignore the agonizing groans of the boys that generously outmatched the giggling. While most of the girls, including yourself, enjoyed the aspect of dancing with a gentleman, the boys didn't like the thought of becoming one so much.

You searched for Fred's eyes the second you could, finding him already looking at you from afar. He was quick in mouthing an 'Are you okay?' and pointing to his own jaw for better explanation.

You nodded but still mouthed an 'ow' for dramatics sake.

Fred knew his little sister's strength, but he also knew your pain tolerance and that made him less concerned. Fred then sent you a wink accompanied by a wicked grin of excitement. Being a couple played in your favor excellently.

Most of the girls feared being partnerless at the ball, so you felt very content with yourself. You secured yourself both an escort and a dance partner by just loving a boy that was able to be serious if you ever asked him to be.

"Silence!" McGonagall raised both her hands in the air, "The house of Godric Gryffindor has commanded the respect of the wizard word for nearly 10 centuries."

She then continued, "I will not have you in the course of a single evening besmirching that name by behaving like a babbling bumbling band of baboons."

"Babbling what now?" You asked in amazement. She was very creative with her words; you give her that.

From the corner of your eye you saw your boyfriend monkeying around with his brother, staying true to his teasing nature by making fun of McGonagall's words.

"Now. To dance is to let the body..." She took a deep breath as she said that, "...breathe. Inside every girl a secret swan slumbers, longing to burst free and take flight."

Fred's younger brother, Ron, decided to take that inspirational moment to comment about Eloise Midgen, a girl that was sitting very close to you, Hermione and Ginny. You shook your head, not liking his comment at all.

McGonagall heard it but finished her sentence nevertheless, saying something about boys having a lion inside of them. "Mr. Weasley."

Ron looked at her through a fringe of red hair, "Yes..."

"Would you join me, please." She was already by his side as she said that.

"I'd dance with that woman anytime." A girl from your year mumbled, creating quite big hysterics of agreement among the girls. You started to laugh, Ron's face and the girls' comments becoming too much for you to handle.

Ron on the other hand sat awkwardly and glanced around the room in which his housemates were all eagerly waiting for his slip, panicked beyond comprehension. Even Harry who had his arm bandaged due to being an actual contestant in the Tournament, eagerly pushed him up with his healthy one.

McGonagall had Ron in her vise hold. The poor boy couldn't go anywhere without making a complete fool of himself. The music started to play, and Fred and George were loving the sight in front of them as they kept throwing in whistles and remarks that made everyone smile. A years' worth of teasing material had just appeared without them doing so much as moving a finger to make it happen.

On the other side of the room, you weren't breathing. Literal tears formed in your eyes when Ginny made a joke on Ron's account.

"Everybody come together! Boys on your feet!"

You had coughed up your laughter immediately, although the giggles seemed to be a permanent thing. You stood to your feet and dashed across the room for Fred after hearing a fifth year tell her friend how she was going to ask him to partner up.

You leaped into his arms, relieved to have snatched him before anyone else could.

"Woah there, love," Fred mused, placing his hand on your waist like Professor McGonagall had instructed. While teasing his younger brother, Fred managed to pick up the essential parts of the dance because he didn't want to tramp all over your feet and have to carry you to Madam Pomfrey. "Thought I'd leave you hanging?"

Although Fred didn't mind hoisting you up into a princess-carry and acting out a heroic save, he was, quite frankly terrified of the wrath you would unleash on him if he was the reason you wouldn't be able to wear your heels to the ball.

"Actually," your laughter broke down as you two started to dance in steady pace around the room. "I didn't want you to partner up with someone else."

Genuine confusion crossed his features after that, "Come again?"

"I heard several girls talk about how they're going to ask you partner up with them," you mumbled just as the tune changed and he swiftly helped you twirl before pulling you back so you were flush against his chest. "Are you sure they weren't talking about George? He actually-"

"Is your name Fred?" You cut him off.

"Yeah..."

You gave him a look that said well-there-you-go.

"If it makes you feel any better," Fred whispered, voice raspy as he gripped your waist and pulled you against him as if you weren't already glued together before. His mouth slowly found its way to your neck and you shivered under the proximity. "I only have eyes for you."

You didn't get to enjoy the moment as you heard Ron scream, his lust for sibling revenge overtaking. "Professor, Fred and Y/N are snogging! It's kind of disgusting, actually!"

"Mr. Weasley! Miss Y/LN!"

"Not again!" Fred and you said simultaneously.

***

You sat in between Fred and Neville in the great hall, working mostly with Fred on an essay Snape had assigned for you during this study session. You talked quietly with Neville while at it too, sharing deep compassion as you helped answer some questions he had for you about Herbology, keeping professor Sprout out of your mouth as much as possible. You didn't want Snape to find out you were talking about a subject that wasn't his.

Ron's muttering was very much loud as he kept going on about how depressed he was. "Well maybe you should just get yourself a girlfriend then. Like me." Fred whispered proudly, eyeing Snape who was walking around the hall like a soldier.

You mimicked Fred's smirk and turned to Ron, "It's not as easy as it looks."

"Getting a girlfriend, you mean?" Ron said, his face falling into an ever deeper frown when you nodded. "Bloody hell... How is that supposed to help?"

"It isn't," you told him. "Fred's just speaking nonsense. Don't listen to him."

Your boyfriend just grinned, slinging his arm over your shoulder but taking it off as soon as Snape glared at it. You swallowed a bubble of laughter that threatened to slip past your lips.

Out of the blue, George scribbled something on a piece of paper, folding it and throwing it at Ron, apparently not trusting his voice to say whatever he wanted to out loud.

You watched as Ron read it through, turning to your boyfriend, the quill in your hand now long forgotten. "What did George write?"

"Get a move on or all the good ones will have gone." Fred whispered, pressing a kiss to your temple as proof to you that he took no part in that message.

"Good ones..." you muttered mockingly. "Pig."

Fred laughed, stuffing his mouth into the sleeve of his shirt to muffle it. He then turned to his brother and told him what you thought of his message. George leaned behind Fred to scowl at you carefully, so Snape doesn't see.

You both stuck out your tongues to each other like kids at the same time and while you returned straight to work, the younger twin continued to converse with Ron. Eventually George threw a paper ball at Angelina and you watched as the paper ball flew past your eyes, missing you by a millimeter. George had made a good shot as the paper ball bounced off Angelina's body. It urged her to look at George as he acted out the question, "You want to go to the ball with me?"

Angelina nodded, surprising you.

"Seriously?" You asked your close friend.

"What?" She shrugged, "He's cute."

Your raised brow catched Angelina off guard. "And funny..."

"As long as you don't mistake him for Fred," You whispered, "I support it."

Fred chuckled next to you.

"I won't be going alone because believe it or not someone asked me!" Hermione exclaimed, most likely because of Ron. You weren't paying attention to either of them, only starting to do so when Hermione stormed across the hall to Snape and handed him her finished assignment. She turned to grab her things whilst putting Ron in his place. "And I said yes!"

"Please don't tell me Ron asked her to the ball as a last resort," You sighed once Hermione disappeared behind the doors.

"I'm afraid he did, love," Fred answered.

You shook your head at Ron in disappointment, "Fred, did I ever tell you how much I'm grateful for you?"

Fred's smile intensified as he shook his head. "No, I don't think you did."

For that, you listened to your gut and grabbed him by his red Gryffindor tie, pulling him to you until your lips connected. Unfortunately, the kiss lasted for only a second due to Snape crawling around the place like the snake he is, but the brief kiss still left you breathless. Left you wanting more. "Want to get out of here?"

"Mhmm," you said with an eager nod of your head. Your brain was mushed and you only had time to whisper to Neville where he could find the answers about the Bouncing Bulb he's been desperate to find more about before Fred pulled you to your feet and grabbed both your stuff. In return, you collected both Fred and yours assignment and stuffed them into Snape's arms. "Have a lovely day, Professor."

"As I said Ron," Fred said smiling, glancing at you and Snape. "Better go get yourself a girlfriend…before the good ones are taken."

"I think the bloody best one is taken already," Ron mumbled with a pout, every male close to him responding in agreement.

Fred winked at them all, a winning smirk plastered on his face as he grabbed your hand and eagerly pulled you outside to do whatever your hearts desired in that moment.

MASTERLIST

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intergalactic-padawan · 3 years

Text

inquisitor - Ezra Bridger

Requested: yes, by the beautiful @raganbridger! Sorry for the wait, it's finally here!

Warnings: angst, dark side!reader, confusion, mentions of bad injuries/blood, betrayal

A/N: You asked for le angst, so here it is! I've had this idea for a long while and this request was the motivation I needed to start. LOTS of alternative endings were written, this was mostly the reason it took so long.

Pronouns of reader: she/her

*ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE! I make mistakes just like everybody else 😉*

-"oh, good, you're awake"

You sit and inhale sharply, focusing back on the real world, startled at the strange voice.

Well, not so strange per se. You knew who was talking to you. What was strange was why he was talking to you.

Before you can adjust your vision to the unfamiliar environment, the memories from hours earlier instantly come flooding back.

Malachor. The place where jedi go to die.

An easy kill for you and your inquisitor colleagues.

That's what they had said on the ship, at least. You, on the other hand, knew better than to underestimate how slippery those jedi could be - especially if they fought side by side, like they always did.

You remember cornering the younger one during the fight. His skill was minimal compared to yours, which would give you an advantage against his master if he were to die first.

The boy and his friends go after the sith holocron. There had been a blinding light when it was placed at the altar.

And also, the jedi knight who was blinded by your former master, Maul.

Maul.

Not only had the cursed man left you for dead years before, he had come back from hiding to haunt you and join forces with your other enemies.

But you were an inquisitor. You wouldn't - you couldn't let him get the best of you, not this time.

You feel a light hand pressing your forehead and recoil in fear, reaching for your lightsaber, only to feel it was not there.

-"whoah, woah, calm down. I'm not going to hurt you" - it was the padawan you'd been fighting before - Ezra Bridger. He had placed you and his master inside a cave in a planet you were not familiar with when you'd escaped Malachor.

You'd escapd Malachor? But how?

You couldn't have, unless he'd carried you back to his ship.

-"hey, hey, it's alright."

-"what do you want, jedi?" - you wince in pain again.

-"a thank you would be nice, actually. I did just save your life"

-"a foolish mistake. One you will pay for with yours"

You reach out for your lightsaber, but can't feel it anywhere close. Scouring with the force for its presence, you quickly realize he must have hidden it outside the place.

-"Nope, absolutely not" - just as quickly, he slaps your outstreched hand - "I may be an idiot, but i'm not stupid. Your lightsaber's not here, it's caused enough damage already."

You rub the hand he pushed away, more shocked at his actions than anything. How DARE he?

-"Then what do you want from me, if not revenge? Why treat my wounds if not to finish the battle we started?"

-"Listen, I'm not sure if it's the adrnaline or something, but you're in no condition to fight anyone any time soon"

-"You underestimete me, Jedi. Even in these conditions you would be no match for me."

-"Like I wasn't a match for you at the sith temple?"

At the mention of the event, images of the fight start to come back.

Back at the sanctuary, you drew him away from the fight, knowing his strengh lied with his allies. Only, you hadn't imagined your former master to join his side - not until you'd seen the holocron in Ezra's hands, at least. You'd warned him: "he will use it and throw you away. Like he did to me". Needless to say, he didn't listen.

Your vision starts to lose focus at the intensity of your anger and you groan in pain, not able to sit anymore. Driven by instinct, the padawan holds your side so you won't fall completely, pressing your abdomen and making you hiss in pain.

-"ah, looks like I was right. You're conscious, but not healed" - you feel yourself be adjusted back on the ground, too weak to fight him.

-"where are we? Why did you save my life?"

He hesitates, eyes studying you, like you might attack him any second and he still knew it.

-"not so sure" - he finally answers - "maybe because now you owe me one?"

-"Did you hit your head or something?" You scoff - "Make no mistake, I WILL kill you when the opportunity rises!"

-"And that is why your lightsaber privileges have been revoked for now."

You lock eyes, studying him like he had you. It made no sense- you'd followed his group to the sith temple, tried to kill him several times, called for the man who had murdered his strongest ally, Ahsoak Tano. Why was he helping you?

With a shiver, you realize he's still holding your side, not as firmly as before but still providing support for your back. Inhaling sharply, you graze his hand and he lets go instantly, realizing how close the two of you had gotten.

Standing up just as quickly, he brushes a strand of unruly hair our of his forehead, while you you clean your throat, diverting your attention to the exit of the cave. The rain pours on the large trees outside, but you can't make out much except for the fact that you're in a forest planet (maybe a moon?) and his ship is in less than ideal conditions to get out of it.

-"here" - Ezra kneels down with two bacta patches and a piece of fabric from a medical kit -"i felt your back was pretty sore, but didn't want to take off your shirt while you were out. Your cuts need cleaning."

You hesitantly take the items, using the rocks behind you as support to lean your body on. He stands up, hands on hips, and chuckles when you sniff the gel, suspicious.

With the small bit of privacy he gives you by turning around to check on his master, you fumble with your shirt, deciding to take it off in order to see better.

-"Need some help over there?" - he asks, hearing you grunt in frustration at not being able to reach some spots

-"Not from you, thank you very much"

-"Oh, so she CAN say thank you! That's a welcome change"

You throw the rag at his direction, irritated out of your mind. Who does he think he is??

He must sense the harmless ball of soaked fabric coming his way, turning around to catch it mid-air. Now that he's turned, you see a glimpse of amusement in his eyes at your rage, giving you the answer you needed as to why he went through the trouble of saving you; it was merely to see you suffer and laugh at your expense, apparently.

His expression quickly changed when he saw your bruised torso, however.

- "who did this to you?" - he whispers, and you look down at you look down at your sore ~ well, everything~, covered only by a wrap in the bust area.

-"As you said, jedi. I may be better than you, but you still gave me a decent challenge"

"No. I didn't even hit you there." - his serious reaction to your injuries had caught you off guard, you had to admit. - "those are old and deep, you shouldn't even be able to walk!"

-"I'm not, remember?" - you motion at your debilitated situation, unable to even sit down or cross your legs properly -"But i will be, soon. And then it's over for you"

-"you know what? I think if you wanted to, you would have killed me by now." - he shoots back and you're impressed at his audacity once again.

But he had a point. Why hadn't you attacked him yet?

Sure, you had no lightsaber or phisical conditions to stand, but your force abilities were still as strong as ever. You were vulnerable, but so was he, and you weren't kidding when you said you could deal with him even at your worse.

-"you know what? " - you cross your arms. He was playing with fire now - "maybe I might"

-"and why haven't you?"

-"because I wouldn't enjoy it as much." - you snap back venomously - "I want to see you suffer before I bring you to Lord Vader"

His expression darkens at the mention of Ahsoka's murderer. His whole body stiffens as he balls his wrists and clearly struggles to control his anger at the recent loss. For a moment, you fear you've gone too far, but reprimand yourself for worrying about his feelings over yours. You're not supposed to be anything more than indifferent to the weak and ruthless to those who dare oppose you.

-"Yeah, no matter what you do, you're still imperial scum"

You're not prepared for those words to affect you so much. You're supposed to have a response, but nothing coherent seems to come out of your mouth, so you settle for an an uncomfortable silence.

It doesn't last for long, however, as his comlink goes off. It's his droid, asking - no, demanding - that he go help him with repairs on the ship. He hesitates, looking at you and contemplating how bad it would be to leave you unnatended in the company of his defenseless master.

-"Dont worry."- You reassure him. -"I won't make his situation worse. Maul is the worse you can get, and I refuse to step that low"

You can see he doesnt like it, but leaves for a few moments before returning with what must be the droid that talked to him before. It was a C1 series unit with an orange top and a bratty atitude, you could tell that much by just seeing him interact with the jedi.

-"Chopper will stay here, just in case"

-"I understand. It's fine."

-"I wasn't asking if you were fine with it. Behave" - you can't be sure if his command is directed at you or the droid, but you weren't about to ask.

The coldness he now had to his voice was understandable - you had worked to get him to that emotional state - ,but you felt hurt at the change. The droid didn't do much to help you think clearly about what just happened, and by the look of it, your frustration would only grow bigger in the many hours it would still take to repair the ship to a normal flying condition.

'He thinks i'm imperial scum, huh?' - you think as you scour a pile of your belongings with the force, not too far away inside the cave.

Bad news, your lightsaber really wasn't there.

Good news, your wrist comm was.

'i'll show him imperial scum'

With a plan forming in mind, all you had to do now was be patient and wait for the right time. There's no exchange of words between the two of you when he gets back, which makes time fly by before he's betrayed by exaution and finally gives in to sleep. You take care of the droid easily after that.

Activating the tracking beacon, you start to leave the cave, but not before noticing the boy's lightsaber beside him. It was a bold move, he could easily wake up if you took it, but you knew that if he woke up to see you gone you'd need it to compensate for your injuries.

You were still on opposing sides, after all.

You knew there had to be an imperial ship near the planet, and they would pick up your signal in an instant when you called. Wallking to a less dense area of the forest, away from the crash site, you're proven right when, in a matter of minutes, a shuttle tripulated by four troopers and a senior lieutenant meet you on the ground.

-"and what of the jedi?" - the higher ranking woman asks when you finish your brief description of the events that led you there.

Well, not all events. You'd left out the part where Bridger had helped you recover.

You could just tell them to take the two jedi for excecution. You were supposed to do it, in fact.

-"it's just me. And the younger one's lightsaber" - you finally answer, not exactly knowing why you'd deliberately just saved them.

She nods curtly and escorts you back to the ship without a second glance. It was a good story so far, but you would have to work on it if your superiors were to believe it.

-"Wait- " - you start, second-guessing your motives for not giving away their location. One of the troopers turns to you expectantly.

-"yes, sir?"

You hesitate for a moment, ready to do what you'd beeen taught to do your whle life. Kill the jedi.

Kill the jedi.

A tingling crept up your sides, where the padawan had touched earlier to give you support. You try to betray the gut feeling pressing you to do your duty as an inquisitor, but it's stronger than you. Something is forcing your better judgement to be leaving your natural enemies alive.

-"nothing." - the tingle goes away as soon as it had come, leaving an unusual feeling of relief. - "Thought i'd sensed something. Let's leave"

'Perhaps it's for the best'. - you think as the shuttle's door closes. After all, you did owe him one for saving your life - whatever his reason was for doing so.

That was what you told yourself as you boarded the ship, at least. Now, the next time you saw him, there would be nothing to stop you from finishing him and his friends for good.

Hope you like it? I gave him a 'hands on hips' moment in honour of your videos for a more personalized touch hahahaha

#ezra bridger fic #ezra bridger #ezra bridger imagine #ezra bridger x reader #ezra bridger x you #ezra bridger x y/n #inquisitor!reader

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rosaliestark01 · 3 years

Text

Dusk Till Dawn - Part 8

Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: You play double agent while the Avengers search for you.

Warnings: more swearing than usual, angst, violence

A/N: @annies-marvel-imagines will no longer be posting more parts, but she will still receive credit.

You paced around Ezekiel's secret hideout and realized several things. The first thing is that there was no way that these two individuals managed to get their hands on such high-level tech by themselves. The second was that Ezekiel obviously lied about being your dad. The third was that Ezekiel most definitely had enough money to get a less crappy apartment. The fourth and most crucial thing you realized was that you'd have to play along with their plan longer than you wanted to.

Judging by the number of meals you've gotten, you'd guess you've been there for three days. It was hard to pretend that you wanted to wipe out the Avengers, but you had to remind yourself that this was just another mission. Except, you didn't have your suit or any means of contacting your team. Plus, the Avengers had no idea where you were, what you were doing, or what you were trying to do. You were on your own.

"Don't just stand there, you spoiled brat. Help us out," Eloise yelled at you.

Another thing that made it hard to act like you were on their side was the constant feeling of wanting to strange Eloise every time she opened her mouth. She honestly reminded you of a penny. Two-faced and not worth much.

"What the hell is this thing?" you ask as you approach the strange metal box that Eloise and Ezekiel had struggled to get out of Ezekiel's truck.

"You like it?" he asks, causing you to furrow your eyebrows. Was this guy serious?

"Did your ears suddenly stop working, or are you just that bad at listening to someone else's shit for once?" You say without thinking. The strange looks from them tell you that it was the wrong thing to say, so you backtrack. "Sorry, I'm still a little nervous about all this."

"It's fine," Ezekiel mutters, coughing awkwardly before becoming grave. "As long as you do your job, you have nothing to worry about."

"What's that supposed to mean?" You ask, suddenly becoming defensive.

"This is your new suit." Eloise snarks, clearly trying to get everyone's attention back onto the metal box. She pressed a button, causing it to open.

Inside was a suit that looked similar to your dad's iron suit, but instead of red and gold, it was black and purple.

"Why does it look like that?" You ask. Why would they base the suit off of Iron Man's suit if they hate his guts?

"We figured you'd like an upgrade," Ezekiel beamed proudly. You're assuming that he was the one who built it, but you weren't ready to jump to conclusions. The guy already had trouble figuring out how to open the microwave. "Your old suit seemed..."

"weak," Eloise rolled her eyes as she finished his sentence.

"It was flexible and bulletproof," you defended. The suit you always wore worked well for years. Who do these people think they are? "I made it with my d- with Tony Stark."

"That explains a lot." She crosses her arms as she stares down at you with a judgmental glare. "Trust me. If you're going up against the Avengers, you're going to want to wear this. It'll protect you better than that flimsy piece of shit you always wore before."

"Fine," you mumbled, remembering that it is in your best interest to pretend that you agree with them.

--------------------

Peter felt like he was drowning.

He'd never gone this long without knowing if you were okay or not, and it was killing him. Without you, his Peter-Tingle, or Spidey-Senses as you called it, felt like a timer he couldn't shut off. He wasn't sure if it had to do with the fact that he was worried out of his mind or if it meant that you were in danger. Maybe both?

What was worse was that he had to pretend everything was okay. Happy was in the hospital, you were missing, and the Avengers were moving heaven and Earth to find you, but he couldn't join them. May and the Avengers insisted that he let the "adults" handle this. Did it ever occur to them that you matter to him just as much, if not more?

"Hey, Pete?" Ned and the rest of your friends approached him hesitantly. They all worried about you, but they knew that it was harder on him. "Is there any update on Y/N?"

"Not yet." Peter would have known if there was even a slight update. "Have any of you heard anything?"

"Gwen feels guilty about what happened at homecoming," Harley states ."She says that if she hadn't spilled her drink on Y/N, she never would have left the gym."

They all look to where Gwen was standing with her friends. She didn't look happy. In fact, she looked like she hadn't slept since word got out that you were missing.

"She should feel guilty." Peter huffs, "If she got over her damn pettiness long enough to realize that I love Y/N, I never would have lost her."

"Still... she said she'd back off," Harry says, feeling uncomfortable with the current subject. There is no excuse for what Gwen did, but she did look like she had learned her lesson.

"We want to help," Betty admitted, causing a bit of hope to fill Peter's mind. So far, all he's heard was "let the adults handle this". Knowing that his friends want to help find you was like a breath of fresh air.

"Yeah. It doesn't feel right to sit back and do nothing when Y/N is who knows where," Harry sighs, patting Peter on the back.

"Thanks, guys," Peter replies, smiling for the first time since you've disappeared. "That means-"

Before he could finish, he turned around, and not a second later, an explosion went off right across from the school.

"What the f-"

----------------

"I still can't wrap my mind around the fact that you never told us that Y/N was adopted," Clint says as he paces back and forth in the compound. He didn't have the slightest idea that anything was going on until he received a call telling him that you were missing and that help was needed tracking you down.

"He had his reasons; now are you going to focus more on that or finding Y/N?" Pepper replied, defending Tony. Although she agrees that Tony should have told you, she knows that he had his reasons.

"Maybe she doesn't want to be found?" Clint asks, although the second it came out of his mouth, he knew it sounded stupid.

"No," Steve says, his arms crossed in concentration. "I've known Y/N for a long time, and she's a good kid. She's going through stuff right now, but she'd never run away or leave Happy alone while he's in the hospital. Something else is going on, and I'd bet it had to do with those two."

The TV displayed everything they knew so far. The two likely suspects were none other than Eloise Day and Ezekiel Stane. Security footage showed you getting into Eloise's car, which was later found outside a shambly apartment building. After further inspection, your phone was found inside of the apartment belonging to Ezekiel Stane.

"Agreed". Tony stared at the screen, trying to figure out if there is anything he's missing. He knows that Ezekiel is the son of his old business partner. Tony knows that Eloise was a new student who gained your trust. What he didn't realize was their connection and what their goal is.

"If-When we find her, you need to tell her the truth," Steve tells him.

"Yeah, we'll go out for cheeseburgers and laugh about it. Am I right?" Tony snaps. It was clear that he knew who your real father is and that you might already know him too. "I- I don't want her to hate me when I tell her."

"Trust me. Y/N will understand if your heart was in the right place," Steve encourages, placing a hand on Tony's shoulder. For a second, Tony's shoulders slump before his resold seems to harden.

"Her real dad is-"

"I think you'll be able to tell her yourself," Nat speaks urgently. "Y/N's been spotted in Queens."

"Let's suit up."

-------------------

You couldn't help but feel as though your plan was about to fail. Eloise and Ezekiel have recently kept a closer eye on you than usual, which isn't good. You have a feeling that they're on to you, which means that you might have to improvise.

"Play along," Ezekiel mutters in your ear before roughly grabbing your arm. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Eloise pointing some blaster at you that looks too much like the one that Hydra dude shot you with.

Before you can ask what he was doing, a familiar figure swung in front of you.

"Let her go," Peter demands. Although you cannot see his face, you can tell he's angry. You felt bad for putting him through this, but in the long run, you'll have to put him through it a little longer.

"Fat chance, you spider freak!" Eloise roars, suddenly pointing the blaster at Peter.

"Wait-" You yell, but your voice is drowned out by Ezekiel's yells as Eloise pulls the trigger.

It was like everything was happening in slow motion. You wanted to scream for Peter, but the shot never made it to its target. Instead, it met with a familiar red, white, and blue shield.

"Whatever happened to my signal?!" Ezekiel yelled at Eloise, who rolled her eyes for the one-hundred-millionth time that day.

"I'm not letting you crap on my chance again, old man!" She barks at him as she continues firing the blaster. By now, all of the Avengers seem to have shown up, and her target was everyone.

"Don't you d-" He yells, but she ignores him.

Cursing, he tries to pull you away from the fight as he tries to think of a new plan. You already knew what needed to happen, but you weren't sure if you were ready to see everyone's faces when you are forced to betray them.

"So is this a thing now? Kidnapping my daughter for revenge or something?" your dad asks as he lands in front of you and Ezekiel, ready to fight.

"Who said I kidnapped her?" Ezekiel smirks. You wanted to wipe the arrogance off his face, but you couldn't. You had a job to do.

"Dammit," You curse. You press the button on your bracelet that morphed into your "new" suit. You didn't want to see the looks everyone will give you, so as you took down the people you call your family, you couldn't look them in the eye.

TAG LIST:

@eridanuswave @perspectiveparker @spidey-reids-2003 @ilovespideyyy @purplekitten30 @slytherinambitious @starryeddie @grapesauze @elephants-bubbles-brachosauruses @thegayseance @whiskeywinter89

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker x reader insert #tom holland peter parker #avengers #peter parker x avenger!reader #peter parker x you #peter parker x stark!daughter #tony stark x daughter reader #tony stark x daughter!reader #avengers x y/n #dad!iron man x avenger!reader #(Y/N)s dad is...#peter parker x stark!reader #spider man x y/n #spiderman x stark!reader #spiderman x avenger!reader #spider man x reader

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excitedlysuffering · 4 years

Text

Green With Envy

It’s past 2am and my eyes hurt so it’s unedited for now sorry y’all😅

Original Request (from Wattpad account): What makes the boys jealous, if possible?

Guest stars: Sasori and Sai!

Masterlist

Naruto~

Oh, this boy… he’s too oblivious sometimes he doesn’t even know to be jealous. He was at a hot spring with friends once and someone says, “(Y/N) is so hot…” Naruto just grinned and said, “Yeah, she really is.”

But that doesn’t mean he won’t protect your honor. If someone says something a little too… risque like ‘Yeah, I’d tap that’ for example, get ready for more Narutos than you can count all charging you with a Rasengan.

He will not stand other guys cozying up to you. He’s the one who should be blessed with your hugs and cuddles. Won’t hesitate to cause a scene and yell to the entire world that he loves you and won’t let any other guy make a pass at you.

“Naruto, you didn’t need to go that far! You blasted him through three walls!” He’s endearing, really.

Sasuke~

Is jealousy an Uchiha thing or just a Sasuke thing? One of life’s many mysteries. Anywho, unlike Naruto, the second your name is brought up in conversation, he goes on guard and he’s listening closely.

If anything is said that he deems inappropriate, whether it be disparaging or otherwise, Sasuke had better be held back or he just might punch you into next week.

“Sasuke, calm down! He just said I had good taste in clothes!”

Even though he can easily get jealous, he knows the importance of freedom and he trusts you. He won’t come guns blazing (or sword slashing rather) and drag you away unless you need it of course.

The last thing he wants is for you to feel like you’re dating your dad or something. He’s very blunt and if he becomes uneasy with the way another male is talking to you, he’ll let said male know. Maybe after scowling with his Sharingan activated, however.

Neji~

Neji doesn’t really get jealous per se, more like offended on your behalf. Because of his upbringing, which taught him manners and the utmost respect, he really can’t understand talking about girls like they’re objects? Will never refer to a woman as ‘hot’ or anything like that.

If someone even dares speak of you like that, (even if you’re not necessarily together yet) he will fight them, and they will experience the 64 palms technique.

He especially hates people in your personal space. He really does trust you, just not others. Is not afraid to embarrass someone on your behalf. Half the time his glare is enough to scare them off, but some people are just clueless. (They wake up in the hospital)

“Neji! You can’t just throw me over your shoulder and leave! And that guy looked like he had seen a ghost?!” Needless to say, even cool, calm, and collected Neji has his limits.

Shikamaru~

Shika is too laid back to get jealous over little things. Somewhat like Neji, he doesn’t get jealous. He might feel threatened on your behalf, but never jealous. He can trust you with his life why shouldn’t he trust you with your relationship?

However, if someone is clearly harassing you or just generally making you uncomfortable, he will not hesitate to step in and make them leave. He won’t resort to physical violence (too much work), but he will intimidate them or put his genius to use and play some kind of trick on them.

He honestly has endless patience and at the same time no patience? Patience with you if you’re having a pleasant conversation with someone, but will go from 0-100 (or 50, really, anything more is a lot of effort) real quick.

“Shika, that guy thought he was really paralyzed, thanks to your shadow possession!” Being jealous is a waste of time, but clever revenge is always a treat for Shika.

Kiba~

So. Jealous. So. Easily. Kiba is naturally animalistic (in the best way) and just like a dog, can be very possessive. If explicitly asked, he will try to tone down his jealous fits, but will still be protective. If he does have free reign, however, oh boy…

No chill at all, whatsoever. Whether it’s absolutely destroying the object of his rage or just simply making out with you right there. No matter how annoyed he may get, he respects you with every fiber of his being and would never tell you to change or try to control you. He wouldn’t ever embarrass you (unless Kiba and Akamaru pummeling a room full of guys is embarrassing).

Just let him FIND OUT someone is making you feel the slightest bit of unease. One second, they’re chatting you up and then BAM! There’s a flash of white and a huge dog ready to maul them.

“Kiba, what do you mean they all looked at me for too long?! We walked in the door, of course, they turned to look!”

Gaara~

Gaara is a bit of a conundrum, but in a way that makes sense? Like, he doesn’t feel the need to get jealous of guys because when you leave, he’s going to be kissing you goodnight, and he’s the one who gets to spoil you.

However, he will get jealous of little things. Oh, you’ve spent a good amount of time playing with an animal/pet? Be prepared to walk in on Gaara giving them a stern lecture on stealing you from them. Gaara knows he has any potential suitors beat, but tiny adorable animals and children? In his mind, he can never be too cautious.

He gets a little pouty but that can easily be cured with cuddles, sometimes with that evil little pet that stole your affections from him. He can never stay jealous for long, he views it as an unproductive waste of time. He could be actively trying to get your attention, but instead, he’s going to be sulking in a corner? Yeah, no.

“Gaara! Stop scolding my cat, that’s not doing anything!”

Sai~

On the rare occasion that this cinnamon roll gets jealous, he’s confused and shocked. Like just imagine the surprised Pikachu face and that’s him. He knows what jealousy is, he can identify it just fine, but he doesn’t know why he’s jealous.

You aren’t doing anything, all you did was laugh at someone else’s jokes, but still… do you find them funnier than him? Are you going to leave him because he’s not that funny?! Cue the slow onset into insanity… Poor Sai is losing his mind to paranoia and made-up scenarios.

Will most certainly drag you away (gently) from whoever is taking your attention and leave. He doesn’t even bother with a fake smile, they don’t deserve it. He’ll explain to you calmly even though he’s panicking on the inside. Once he is back to normal he’ll show you his nearest artwork.

“What the-! Sai, you can’t just draw caricatures on people’s car!” You don’t even want to know how he figures out which car is theirs...

Kakashi~

Too cocky to be jealous. He has the right to be though because one glance at him without his face mask can cause instant pregnancy. Anywho, he knows you love him and some guy trying to hit on you like some high school douche isn’t going to change that.

He does like to intervene, however, just to flex like ‘yeah, I’m the boyfriend, now get lost’.

He’s not big on PDA, so he won’t start kissing you to ward off strangers, but he will wrap on arm around you or hold your hand and ask who your ‘friend’ is.

When there’s that one stubborn person who won’t take a hint, Kakashi doesn’t mind rocking someone’s world or getting kicked out, he needed to perfect that one offense technique anyways. He’s pretty laid back though, so it has to be somewhat drastic for this though, plus he knows you can handle yourself.

“A thousand years of death?! Isn’t it weird to be poking old men in the butt?!

~Akatsuki~

Pein~

Pfft. Who does he have to be jealous of? He’s a god among mortals, after all. To him, you’re a goddess and as such you belong with someone like him, not the peasants around you.

But on the offhand chance that someone doesn’t heed his godly status, he will not hesitate to pull you into his side and yell ‘Almighty Push’ and totally obliterate that loser. (A/N: Holy crap I think that needs to be a one-shot cuz, wow, Pein being all protective is making me swoon?)

If it’s not a big deal, he’ll easily let you take care of it. If you’re strong enough to catch Pein’s attention, you’re more than strong enough to deal with some lowlife. That doesn’t mean, however, that they won’t feel his wrath too.

If you ever want to witness a true royal rumble, dare someone to mess with Pein’s S/O. It’d be an epic tag team match (slaughter, really) for the ages. One would d be surprised how quick he can lose his cool when it comes to you.

“Pein, that’s the fifth time this month! Kakuzu is going to murder me if I ask for money to fix this wall!”

Deidara~

Need I even say it? Jealous boy all the way. You’re his favorite masterpiece so why should let an uncultured swine who doesn’t even understand your worth touch you? Rhetorical question, he wouldn’t.

He is not above fighting or placing a bomb on someone who gives you one too many glances. He’d make sure they knew it wasn’t art, they weren’t good enough for that, before blowing the offender up.

No one and he means no one gets to talk bad about his S/O. If someone insults you in his presence they might as well as swallowed one of his explosives and trusted him not to blow them up.

Will one 100% hide you from view if you look too appealing. He thinks you look ravishing, but he’s the only one who should be able to think that, in his opinion. Don’t worry, no one’s ever gotten close enough to harass you with Dei around. His one-eyed scowl is a great deterrent.

“Deidara! You blew up my favorite restaurant! He didn’t even say anything to me!”

Sasori~

Would rather die before admitting he was jealous. As adamant about not being jealous as he is about art being eternal. That’s not to say that he won’t take action though. He will use chakra strings to make the perpetrator walk away, meanwhile making them bump into literally everything in the general vicinity.

The two of you don’t leave the base all that often so it’s unusual to see an envious Sasori action, but it’s a real treat when it happens. After he deals with whatever idiot crossed him, he’ll be a bit more affectionate that day/night.

Not huge things, but instead of working on puppets all night, he’d be more apt to hold you that night. Average people hitting on you make him insecure because he realizes he’s not that great at normal relationships but he still doesn’t want to lose you. That feeds into his jealousy and he figures the only way to get rid of it is to make sure those other guys can’t offer anything he doesn’t have.

“Sasori! If you wanted a hug, you could’ve said that instead of treating that guy like a ball inside of a pinball machine!”

#naruto x reader #sasuke x reader #neji x reader #shikamaru x reader #kiba x reader #gaara x reader #sai x reader #kakashi x reader #pein x reader #deidara x reader #sasori x reader #naruto scenarios #jealousy #naruto shippuden #request

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ashdoesfandomarchieved · 3 years

Text

dancing is the best revenge

Fandom: Tangled the Series

Rating: T

AO3

“Not bad,” Hugo says, dipping his hors d'oeuvre into the bubbling champagne. “You know, for a wedding .”

Varian rolls his eyes. “And what do you, pray tell, have against weddings?”

“Besides the part where everyone cried over a government sanctioned union? The lack of drama . I’ve been more entertained at funerals.”

“I don’t know, the ring bearers disappearing halfway through the ceremony and then showing up last minute covered in-- I don’t know what, was pretty dramatic.”

“You have literally been possessed by the demon of your dead mother.”

“I was fine.”

Hugo snorts, placing his empty champagne glass onto a passing waiter’s tray. “You and I have very different definitions of fine, sweetheart.”

“Fine, so we’ve attended more entertaining venues. What do you want me to do about it?”

Hugo grins, eyebrows bouncing up and down. “I might have a few ideas.”

Varian blinks after his boyfriend, who has suddenly disappeared into the wedding crowd. Unsure whether to go after him, or just embrace the chaos that’s going to unfold with or without his intervention, Varian bounces on his toes, trying to catch a glimpse of his deranged boyfriend.

The orchestra plays a few bars and Varian immediately slaps a palm to his face.

“This is the most terrible day of my life,” Varian says, as Hugo saunters back over to him. The violins in the background, playing a fucking tango . Varian doesn’t know how he convinced the orchestra to take requests, but doesn’t want to ask.

Sometimes, with Hugo, it’s better to live in ignorance.

“What are you doing?” he asks flatly, as Hugo comes to a stop in front of him, the smirkiest of smirks on his dumb face.

“Wanna dance?” Hugo drawls, holding a hand out enticingly.

Varian makes eye contact with Rapunzel across the room. Rapunzel is laughing so hard she snorts wine up her nose.

He looks back at Hugo.

“I don’t dance,” Varian replies, flatly.

“Yeah? Just like you don’t ‘do boyfriends?’” Hugo asks, doing visible air quotes with his hands that makes Varian further irritated.

“I can’t dance,” he says, through gritted teeth.

“Aw, really?” Hugo takes Varian’s hand anyway and begins to gently tug him toward the dance floor. Various dance partners around them are doing incredibly dramatic renditions of the tango --the most notable being Lance and Eugene who are absolutely killing it.

Hugo sharply tugs on Varian’s arm, reeling him into his side with a flourish. “Don’t worry,” he says, teeth gleaming sharply in the candle light. “I won’t let you fall.”

Varian’s face burns so red he can feel the heat radiating from it.

Being the taller of the two--and the one who can actually dance --Hugo takes lead, guiding Varian through a series of complex moves that make his head spin. It’s more complicated than a waltz--the one dance Varian did vaguely know, via watching Eugene and Lance engage in their weird, homoerotic, rituals--with far more moves involved.

Hugo guides Varian back and forth on the dance floor, spinning him every few moves. “Keep the upper half of your body stiff,” he whispers to Varian, looking amused as the blue-eyed alchemist squawks at being dipped. “And the lower half--” his smirk literally cannot get more smirky then this moment, “-- flexible .”

“I have never hated anyone more than I hate you right now.”

“Good we can use that. Dance like we’re about to have hate-sex.”

Varian sputters. “We’ve never had hate-sex!” he hisses, maybe just a tad too loud for a public setting. A courtier, spinning one of Rapunzel’s ladies-in-waiting around, promptly drops her. Hugo snickers.

“Not yet , we haven’t.”

Varian gives Hugo a flat look. Hugo spins and drops him into another dip. “Hugo, I’m not having hate-sex with you tonight.”

“Well of course not.” Hugo picks Varian up into a quick, graceful lift, and drops him back on the floor in time to the accompanying music. “That would imply that you hate me.”

“No, it would imply that we’re going to fuck tonight.”

“What? Dancing doesn’t make you horny?” Another dip over Hugo’s knee.

“No,” Varian dryly replies, blinking up at Hugo. There are tiny gold flecks in his green eyes that are positively mesmerizing. “No, it does not.”

They both stop the twirling and dipping and go back to the general movement of the tango, gracefully sliding down the dance floor. Varian thinks he sees Eugene dip Lance out of the corner of his eye.

Hugo reels Varian in close. Very very close. Their noses brush, lips a breath away from touching. “But arguing does ,” Hugo murmurs, with the confidence of someone who’s gotten Varian in the mood just from picking a fight over why polonium was the best periodic element.

Varian flushes all the way down his neck. Hugo pulls away just as the last few strains of the song cry out across the ballroom. With a grin, he slinks away, back toward the food buffet, hips doing that weird saunter that Hugo thought was sexy.

Dammit , it was sexy.

With a groan, Varian follows.

“Hey Varian,” Rapunzel calls from a few feet away. Varian grins, redirecting his path toward her.

She truly looks beautiful, white wedding dress with an insanely long train that’s reminiscent of her once-long hair. Her look on her face, however, does not make the elegance of her gown.

“I thought you didn’t dance,” she says, grinning in a way that’s just a little too evil.

“I don’t,” Varian says, erring on the side of defensive.

“Hmm, well that was an awful lot of something for someone who doesn’t .”

Varian thinks Rapunzel is hanging around Hugo too much. Or Cass. Or Eugene. Or-dammit, are all of Varian’s friends secretly evil? That’s supposed to be his thing.

“Hugo is persuasive,” he says, flatly.

“Oh, I’m sure he is.” Rapunzel continues grinning. “He’s also checking you out, right now.”

Varian spins on his heel, just in time to see Hugo watching him with intent . The minute they lock eyes, Hugo grins sheepishly.

“I need a fucking leash for him,” Varian mutters.

“There are so many ways I could respond to that,” Rapunzel sighs. “Varian, go take your boyfriend somewhere else before he ends up making out with you on a table or something.”

“We’re not going to makeout on a table!” Varian hisses, throwing his hands up in the air as he stalks toward his boyfriend. Said boyfriend looks just a little too excited at Varian’s glaring.

“Oooh, is this the part where you murder me and hide my body in Corona’s sewers?” Hugo asks, as Varian drags him out of the ballroom.

“Hugo, shut up,” Varian snaps, completely done with his boyfriend’s idiocy.

“Make me -mmphff -”

Varian spins his boyfriend around, pressing him into a nearby wall. He has to stand up in his tip-toes to kiss him, but it’s entirely worth it. “Did you just dance with me to make me mad so I would have sex with you?” Varian asks, when he pulls away.

Hugo, who’s brain hasn’t caught up beyond Varian’s kissing me , gapes at him for a moment. “Uh, maybe?”

“I hate you, you’re ridiculous,” Varian says, unable to keep the fondness out of his voice.

“Is that a no on the-”

“Shut up.”

Hugo grins, bending down to press his lips to Varian’s so Varian doesn’t have to strain himself. Varian lets himself be kissed--lets Hugo run his fingers through his hair, and brush his tongue against the roof of his mouth, and sigh contentedly into him.

The slow, gentle strains of a waltz float out into the corridor. Hugo pulls away, something between a gentle smile and an amused grin present on his face.

“Wanna dance?”

#varigo #varian #hugo tts #hugo vat7k #tts #tts fanfic #my fanfic

47 notes · View notes

airi-p4 · 3 years

Text

Miraculous escape - Chapter 1

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 |

I wasn’t planning to post this yet, but it’s Lukadrien June and today prompt is ‘escape’ and, even if it’s only Lukadrien friendship (bc it’s Lukanette & Adrigami endgame), it fit so well that I couldn’t stop myself from posting this. Chapter 1 and the final chapter have been finished for months, but I don’t know when I’m going to continue with the rest...

This fic is based / inspired by Marilyn Monroe’s ‘Some like it hot’ film.

Thank you @alittleshycat for the header and wanted posters pic! ( I hope you’re doing well... I miss you... 🥺💙 )

Thank you @brickercupmasterx3 for proofreading! 💙

Summary:

Luka helps Adrien escape from his prison-like house and his strict father but Gabriel Agreste is not planning to let them go away easily. They become fugitives and ask Juleka for help, who offers them a very unconventional escape plan: joining a girl band/orchestra to flee the country.

Easier said than done, especially when they find something unexpected in that band: the two most beautiful women they've ever seen.

Warning: includes art

AO3

_________________________

Chapter 1: Fugitives

"My father is going to kill me."

"Your father is going to kill us."

One carrying a guitar on his back, and the other a piano keyboard case on his hand, two musicians were being chased by multiple cars around Paris. Turning corners, going up and downstairs, hiding behind trash containers and cars, the chase seemed far from an end anytime soon. Panting for air, the pair continued running after they turned the corner, just in time not to be seen- a close call. The loud sirens never seemed to stop, coming from all directions.

"I can't believe I finally escaped from home!", the young blond man exclaimed excitedly. "Thanks, Luka. I wouldn't have made it without your help. You're a real friend."

"Don't mention it, Adrien. That's what friends are for, right?", the blue haired man laughed and patted his back. "It would have been perfect if we hadn't broken half of your father's statue collection while escaping your bodyguards, though. Now he's gonna kill us for sure. We can't let them catch us!"

"We need to run away from Paris. And fast! My father is the devil itself! You don't want to know..."

"I don't!"

Jumping down a wall, and turning another corner, the two friends hid in the back of a funeral car and waited until the police sirens got further away. They had been scolded for being disrespectful with the dead, but it was worth it: they were safe- at least for now.

"We need to leave the city and find a place to stay. Knowing your father, he must have all stations, roads and airports under his control." Luka said, stopping Adrien from crossing the street to firstly check their surroundings.

"How are we going to do it? Our car became 'inoperative' during the chase and our friends and family must be monitored!"

Adrien's panic made Luka grab his shoulders to reassure him of their plans.

"No, look. They know you, but they don't know much about me. Not many people know I have a sister who lives here, in Paris."

"You do?"

"Yes. We need to make it to her apartment and then we’ll figure out how to proceed. Are you ready to run again?"

"More than ready. I'm excited!" Adrien grinned back at Luka, feeling an adrenaline rush.

"Let's go!"

__________________

When Juleka opened the door of her apartment, she wasn't expecting to meet her dumbass older brother and Adrien Agreste, the young man who had been on the news non-stop for the last two hours. She raised one eyebrow and Luka knew she was looking for a reason not to shut the door on their faces.

"Juleka! We need your help! We have to get out of the city. Could you lend us your car?"

"What the heck is wrong with you!? It's been two years and that's all you have to say? What kind of trouble are you involved in now? This flower boy has been in the news for hours! They are even offering a reward for whoever finds him! And one for you! A dead or alive one in your case! They're saying you kidnapped him! So you better have a good explanation or I'm kicking you out."

"I do, I do! Listen: remember dad? I know you were little, but do you remember what being trapped is? That's this man's, Adrien's, everyday life for you. I couldn't bear to see my friend like that anymore so I offered to help him escape" Juleka's eyebrow sank deeper towards her nose, meaning Luka knew that wasn't good news. "I had to help him get his freedom! Can you believe he has never had a burger? Or been to a drive through? He can't even drive a car! He literally crashed my car at a streetlight after mistaking the gas and brake pedals! Have some compassion and help us escape Paris. Please?" he finished, pleadingly.

Juleka's eyes moved to analyze Adrien before answering: blond rich guy, well dressed and innocent looking. The way he was trying to figure out her front door and how his green eyes curiously examined his surroundings made him look like a playful cat, and Juleka had no doubt that he was as dumb, or probably dumber, than her older brother. Which meant Jukeka wanted them out, but also that she couldn't refuse to help- otherwise they would surely not make it out alive.

"Fine. What do you need?" She resigned.

"A car or anything that takes us away from Paris! No, better! Out of the country!"

Adrien was still examining Juleka's old and untidy room when she noticed his eyes paused on a paper on the table. She knew that paper: a girl band/orchestra called "Miraculous" was looking to recruit experienced musicians to perform around Italy for three weeks. Suddenly, she knew what to do.

"Join that girl band, the one in the pamphlet", Juleka suggested, pointing at said paper.

"What? A girl band? We're men, Jules! We can't join a girl band!"

"Luka is right!" Adrien quickly agreed.

"No, it can be done. I'm good with makeup and I'm tall enough for my clothes to fit Adrien. We can use some of Mom's clothes for you. ‘Old style’. Oh, and I have some wigs too.” Juleka continued. "Can this blondie play any instrument?"

"Well, yes. He's a pianist," Luka answered.

"Perfect! I'll find a way for you to cover for the pianist and the guitarist of the band: Chloe and Lila. Nobody likes them anyway, and the band members probably don't even remember their faces well, since they joined recently. Nobody will miss them. And it's perfect that you're blond, just like Chloe. I have the perfect wig for you"

Juleka disappeared for a few minutes and came back with a pair of scissors, two wigs and a box of makeup- oh, and wax. The two male friends could feel cold sweat down their backs.

"Wow, you have such a pretty face!" Juleka exclaimed, taking a closer look at Adrien's facial features. "I'll cut your bangs a bit so they don't show under your wig. Luka: do yourself a favor and go shave meanwhile."

"Are you serious about this, Jules?" Luka asked, moving towards the bathroom sink.

"Of course I am", she glared confidently at him. "Do you want to flee the country or not? I'm getting you out, but you need to trust me."

"Is this really necessary…?" Adrien asked in a trembling voice, seeing how Juleka's scissors were close to his eyes as she was cutting his long bangs.

"It definitely is! The band orchestra is leaving midday tomorrow and we have a lot to do!" Juleka ordered. "I can't wait to wax those hairy legs of yours" she murmured. Adrien could only gasp in fear.

When Juleka finished, she was proud of her results. The disguises were perfect: a long blond wig on Adrien, tied as a long braid, his big green eyes standing out with the mascara on his lashes, and he had pink colored cheeks and cherry lips. His face and hair were perfectly complemented by a white dress to his knees and a short jacket over his shoulders, covering his strong forearms. He also used some pads to simulate not very large breasts. The final touch was a pair of elegant high-heels with diamond looking glass studs on them. He looked beautiful, prettier than many women. So pretty the Couffaine siblings blushed a little at the sight.

As for Luka… well, he was tall, big and manly, and with sharp features: definitely not easy to pass him as a woman. But Juleka was almost a professional and she did an incredible job. He had his hair cut short so his blue hair didn't show under the long dark haired wig - good for covering his wide muscular back. He was advised to wear a hat and sunglasses most of the time, but he was also wearing lots of makeup. Using a full palette of skin tones, Juleka managed to hide his strong jawline and make his cheekbones, chin and nose look smaller and rounder. He wore black eyeshadow and mascara, brownish red lipstick and natural blush. He looked like an unfeminine lady but that could pass as genetics, right? People would maybe look away, but they would understand. As for his clothes: he wore a long wide purple dress tied with a belt and some brown pirate-like high boots (the only ones that would fit him because they belonged to himself). The bottom half of his outfit was complemented by a grey knit poncho. His fake breasts were bigger than Adrien's and he wore a wine red scarf to cover his neck- especially his pronounced adam's apple. He looked… pretty good, considering the base product. And that alone was an amazing accomplishment.

"You're perfect. Ready to go. I've packed a pair of party dresses too. You'll need them for your performances" Juleka said, admiring her amazing work. "Oh, and just so you know. I'm also part of the band, so I'm coming too."

Later that night, just before sunrise, Juleka sneaked to Chloe and Lila's apartment to steal their accreditations and sent them fake cards about the train being delayed so they wouldn't appear at the last moment and ruin everything. Juleka smirked victoriously for having at last taken her revenge on the two women she hated the most.

___________________________________________

After nervously passing the first frontier of the train station- the ticket man, Luka and Adrien, who were disguised as women, moved towards the platform, happy for not having been recognized after the first control. Adrien had trouble walking in heels, so Luka lent him his arm to help him keep his balance.

"Remember: your name is Chloe now, and my name is Lila", Luka reminded his friend as they walked towards the train platform.

"I don't like those names", Adrien complained.

"I don't like them either, but it’s better that we don't stand out". Luka sighed.

Grabbing their baggage and instruments, the two men approached the train car written on the ticket. They were stopped before they could get on the train- just next to one of their 'wanted' posters. The two men didn't notice it, but Juleka did and rushed them to get on the train fast.

"Hey, who are you?" Asked a middle aged woman, the one in charge of the band, they assumed. "I've never seen you before. Are you new?"

"I- I'm Adri- My name is Noirette”, Adrien said, receiving equally surprised and annoyed glares from both Luka and Juleka. Before Luka could speak, Adrien continued. “And she's Lucia. We're the new pianist and guitarist of the band".

‘What. the. heck?’ Luka couldn’t believe his friend as he stared at him in annoyance and shock. His high pitched voice acting was hurting Luka's ears too. 'We're dead', he thought.

The middle aged woman showed orchestra at Adrien’s words: she clearly didn’t like last minute changes. Scanning them under her glasses, she questioned them again. "What happened to Miss Chloe Bourgeois and Miss Lila Rossi?"

While the two men were taking too much to come up with an excuse, Juleka, who was sick of their bad acting, stepped into the conversation.

"The talent agency sent them somewhere else. These two are here to fill in for them."

Still unconvinced, she raised her glasses. "Hmmm... you know them, Juleka?"

"They come from the same talent agency as me", Luka’s sister confidently said.

"Hmmm... that should be enough then..." It seemed like she was convinced at last and the two men could finally breathe. “I'm the band's director. You can call me Madam Mendeleiev. And that man over there is Mister Damocles, the manager. You can introduce yourselves later. Go to your seats now.” Before they could take a first step, the middle aged woman stopped them again and called for someone. "Yves! Come here and carry these ladies’ instruments to the train! Be useful for once!"

Luka and Adrien exchanged looks when a young blond man approached them quickly. "Yes, Madam!" He shouted, approaching the disguised men to get their instruments. He stopped in front of them, intensely staring at Luka’s pupils before trying to complete his job.

"Oh. Hello, there. XY at your service! Can I help you, beautiful? Fancy a drink sometime?" He raised his eyebrows twice, shamelessly flirting.

Luka's face went white in disgust. Juleka's chuckle and Adrien's big eyes made him snap out of it.

"Oh, Just carry this, thank you!" Luka answered, annoyed, as he shoved his and Adrien’s instruments and suitcases into XY’s arms, making the blond man lose balance from the pile of weight on his arms. “And take good care of them because they’re… fragile”

"A- As you wish, beauti- Ah!…" He stumbled, losing his balance and almost falling down. “But later that drink-”

"Yves!! Stop the crap and do your job!" Mendeleiev scolded him.

"Yes, Madam!" He straightened his back. "See you around", he winked at Luka before leaving, having trouble walking properly. The guitarist could feel shivers all over his body, while Juleka snorted, having real trouble trying to hold her laugh in.

"C'mon, hurry up!" Juleka pressured them, adding in a whisper "you better not expose yourselves before leaving."

"Thank you for saving us, Juleka." Luka whispered to her ear while getting on the train.

"You better stop acting stupid if you don't want to get caught!" Her response showed her annoyance and the men gulped in response.

The seats were arranged in pairs, so the two fugitives could sit together and relax a bit. They were also grateful for the lack of contact needed with the rest of the band.

The ‘Miraculous band’ was a dancing orchestra. Similar to a big band, but with vocals, a spectacular stage and completely fine for all ages to enjoy. In this case, its main particularity was how it was formed only by women. The band formation included: a rhythmic section (electric bass, electric guitar, drums and electronic piano), a wind section (saxophones, trumpets and trombones) and two singers. Many of the members were usually multi-disciplined in those bands, which meant they could play more than one instrument, just like Luka with the Lyre. Some of the side instruments were the violin, the flute, the maracas or the tambourine. Another particularity of these kinds of bands was the big range of styles in their repertoire: from rock and popular national or international hits to swings, waltz, salsa- anything that could be danced to.

If it weren't for the all girls' rule, Adrien and Luka wouldn't have minded joining them for real. But they had something more important to think about now- running for their lives.

"Is everyone here?", Mendeleiev asked, standing at the train car passage.

"Marinette and Kagami are not here yet, Madam" A dark skinned, red haired lady pointed out.

"Those two again… if they weren't so talented and popular I would have fired them already!"

"There they come!' A small blond short-haired lady screamed, startling Juleka in the process. "Sorry! I didn't want to startle you. My name is Rose" she introduced herself.

"Juleka…" and that's all she could say as she lost herself in that petit woman's eyes.

"What do you play?", the little woman innocently asked. "I play the trombone!"

"The electric bass…" she answered, hiding her blush. ‘Cute, sweet and with lungs of steel?’ Juleka gulped. ‘I’m screwed’.

"Finally!" Madam Mendeleiev said, as the ladies arrived, panting from their run there. "You're late! Go to your seats quickly!"

The two ladies who got in the train, bowed their heads in apology for their tardiness, as they walked to the empty seats of the back of the car. And when their faces looked up for a moment, it was the exact moment Adrien and Luka reached heaven. Their eyes couldn't stop staring at the most beautiful ladies they had ever seen, following them with their eyes and faces as they passed just beside them, moving to sit a few rows to the back. They couldn't take their eyes off them until Juleka called for their attention, warning for their discretion. But it was too late: the boys had lovestruck grins on their faces that didn't plan to go away anytime soon.

The two ladies had black hair and asian features. The short haired one was taller, had brown eyes and wore a beautiful white blazer with a red skirt. She looked elegant and confident, while the other woman looked cute, clumsy and innocent, and was shorter. She had blue eyes and dressed in a pink coat. Her hair was long and tied in two curly twin-tails. Their beauty stood out even more when they were together.

When the train started moving, Madam Mendeleiev gave the girl band some instructions- something Luka and Adrien would ask Juleka what it was about later. Later, Rose suggested an introduction game for the new members after the explanation had ended. The ladies excitedly agreed.

"I start!" said the same blond girl. "My name is Rose Lavillant and I play the trombone! I studied at a conservatoire in Paris for 3 years before joining this band recently. I like pink and unicorns and my favorite food is strawberry shortcake. Nice to meet you!"

After a round of applause, Rose signaled Juleka to continue, and she passively proceeded. "I'm Juleka. Bassist. Nice to meet you"

Next to continue was the red-haired woman from earlier, Alya, flautist and trumpeter; the drummer, Mylene; another trumpeter, Alix; and one of the saxophonists, Sabrina. It was Adrien's turn next.

"Hello!" He started, with his high-pitched voice. "My name is Ad-" he paused for a second at Juleka's deathly glare, gulping once before continuing. "My name is Noirette. I play the piano! I'm from Paris Classical School and I'm very pleased to meet you all!" He squealed, moving his arms along.

Adrien's excitement for freedom and new experiences was contagious to the rest of the ladies who energetically (almost hysterically) responded "Nice to meet you too, Noirette!".

It was Luka's turn next. He gulped, nervous, and with his fake high pitched voice and under Juleka's death stare, he started.

"Hi... My name is Lu- Lucia". 'I'm killing Adrien for giving me that name' he thought. "I play the guitar. Nice to meet you"

With their introductions over, Juleka finally relaxed. The rest of the ladies' introductions followed but, to be honest, neither Luka nor Adrien were listening: they were just patiently waiting to know more about the ladies that captivated their hearts. Their turn finally arrived, and the short haired one started:

"Hello. My name is Kagami. I sing and play the violin. I've been in the band for a few weeks. My favorite color is red and my favorite food is katsudon. Nice to meet you" a silence followed Kagami's introduction, so she called for her partner's attention with her elbow. "Marinette, your turn!"

"Oh-! Sorry… I was distracted… He-ello… My name is Ma- Ma- Marinette! I'm a singer but I can also play side instruments like the tambourine, the maracas or the castanets. I've been in this band for a few weeks and I studied in Paris Music School. My favorite color is pink and my favorite food is macarons. It's nice to meet you-", she ended with a nervous high-pitched voice.

Luka and Adrien exchanged excited lovestruck grins: the ladies' names and voices were just as beautiful as their faces. They were going to enjoy their outing with the band better than they could have expected.

______________________________

When the car got loud from the ladies chit-chat, Luka and Adrien found their moment of peace to share their thoughts.

“Luka, did you see that?” Adrien started, signaling at the end of the car, towards the singers of the band.

“Yes…I saw.” Luka answered, with a lovestruck grin on his face.

“That beautiful face…”, Adrien continued.

“Sweet voice…”, Luka added.

“Asian features…”, their mumbles continued.

“Dazzling eyes…”

“Dark shiny silky hair…”

The two men reacted at their exchanged words and looked at each other, surprised and nervous. Adrien gulped, worried.

“Wait- who are you talking about?”

“Who are YOU talking about?” Luka threw his question back at him, slightly aggressively.

“That girl, Kagami, of course!” Adrien exclaimed as if it was the most obvious response.

“Oh, that's good. I was talking about Marinette.” Luka sighed and showed him a relieved smile.

“Oh...” Adrien blinked, sighing and smiling in relief too. “I'm glad we weren't talking about the same girl. I wouldn't have liked to steal a girl from you.”

“What makes you think I wouldn't win her over you?”, Luka confidently grinned.

“Oh- anyway- It's better this way.”

The two men laughed together, trying not to be too loud for their manly voices to destroy their cover-ups.

“Will you help me with Kagami?” Adrien asked his friend.

“Only if you help me with Marinette.” said Luka, offering him a handshake he excitedly returned.

“Count on it, my friend!”

#my fic #fic: miraculous escape #lukanette fic #adrigami fic #my art #airipyon #airip4 #lukadrien friendship #endgame lukanette #sorry for the ugly art #It's OLD and I cringe #but you get the overall idea I guess?#silly comedy #This idea was from last year OMG #Idk when I'm going to continue it but I hope I will...#I'm super slow to finish my WIPs...

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sprnklersplashes · 3 years

Text

songwriter!janis fic (unrequited crush, no-very-happy-ending)

also on ao3

It all started because she loved Taylor Swift when she was in middle school. Who is she kidding, she still loves Taylor Swift, but that’s where all this began. A middle school girl’s obsession with Taylor Swift. A confused, sad girl with a broken heart and smudged black eyeliner, finding refuge in lyrics about loneliness and anger and revenge. They became anthems for her, mantras to mutter when the warzone of middle school became too much for her.

“Someday, I’ll be living in a big old city, and all you’re ever gonna be is mean.”

“Cause I knew you were trouble when you walked in.”

“I can still see you, this ain’t the best view.”

It amazes her. It’s honestly as if Taylor Swift has managed to look into her life and given her a bundle of songs for whatever she needs. For when Regina has thrown her one too many snide looks, for when she’s standing at the door of North Shore High on her first day, for when she eats lunch alone, for when her mom is the best mom she could have asked for, for when she and Damian are lying on the grass in her backyard, staring up at the sky, laughing at absolutely nothing. The songs become the soundtrack to her life, the chords and those raw, honest lyrics an emotional outlet she so desperately craves. Taylor, and her songs, become a confidant, almost a close friend who always knows what to say.

With all that in mind, perhaps it was only a matter of time before she asks for a guitar for Christmas. She’s fourteen, braces and a slight lisp, and jumps up and down like a mad woman when she sees it under the tree.

She practices for three days straight, until her fingers bleed, but Should’ve Said No is the first song she learns off by heart. She yells the lyrics with maybe a little too much passion, but her parents applaud her nonetheless.

Like she said, that’s how it all started.

Because that same Christmas, she realises that screaming her feelings while playing guitar actually feels pretty cathartic. And that if it worked for Taylor Swift, it could work for her. So she writes stuff down, plays around with chords and strumming until the beat on the guitar matches the one in her head. She grabs a page and a pencil and writes and re-writes her innermost thoughts and feelings on the page until they sound the way she wants them to. She plays around with rhyme schemes and structure and everything she’s been taught about in English class, and a thrill runs through her as she does so. It’s the same breathless high she feels when she paints or draws, the rush that comes from creating something.

Her parents sit on the other side of her bedroom door, no doubt exchanging worried glances as she repeats the same verse, same chorus, with only a word changed. She watches them when they think she can’t see, peering through the crack in her door. The conclusion they seem to come to is ‘well, as coping mechanisms go, it’s pretty good, and she’s happy, so who are we to stop it?’.

It takes her four days to finish her first song. And it sucks. But she keeps it, writes down the lyrics and chords in one of the few empty notebooks she has, and there’s no going back from it now. She writes, and she writes, and she writes, near enough every day. She likes to think she gets better with each one. She learns more chords, buys a cheap ukulele the summer after freshman year, tries her hand at piano during a particularly difficult few weeks. She doesn’t plan on doing anything with them. They’re just her little pieces to hold on to. Her therapy sessions outside the carpeted office.

No-one knows about it. She has a reputation to keep up, after all. The loner-by-choice, too-cool-for-school, aloof art freak. Everyone has their roles to play in the ecosystem that is high school and, much as she hates the entire system, that is hers to play. And she plays it well, if she may say so. The fact that hardly anyone knows her past that facade suits her just fine. After all, if people think she doesn’t care, she can’t get hurt. No-one needs to know that Janis Sarkisian actually has feelings.

Even less need to know that she writes songs about said feelings.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

By the time she reaches her junior year, she’s onto her third notebook. She keeps them tucked away in her sock drawer, expertly hidden so only she can find them. Damian teases her about it, calling her “the protagonist of a Disney Channel Original Movie”. She just rolls her eyes and reminds him that “if either of us is gonna be Disney’s first openly gay character, it’ll be you”. He can’t argue with that.

It should be noted that when Janis said that no-one knows about her songwriting, Damian was the obvious exception. He found out just weeks after she started. There’s no keeping secrets from him.

Between all her notebooks, she’s written around forty songs.

Then she meets Cady Heron one day. The human embodiment of a labrador puppy, complete with wide, lost eyes. She likes her instantly, decides to take her under her wing because Lord knows the girl needs it. Cady’s smile is infectious, her laugh like a summer breeze. She has dimples and caramel-coloured hair and really likes maths.

She meets Cady on a Monday.

By that Saturday, song number 41-titled “Dimples and Curls” is more or less complete.

She plays it for Damian, hands only slightly shaking as she changes chords, the strumming short and upbeat, the melody strangely happy for such a bittersweet song.

He applauds her, but the subject of the song hangs in the air even after she’s played the last chord and the music fades. Unsaid, but not unknown. Just like her songwriting, Janis couldn’t keep a crush from Damian if she tried.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Hey, check it out.”

Cady drops onto the seat across from Janis, the whole table shaking as she does so. Like a small meteor just hit Earth. Janis looks up from her lunch, pretending like she had been doing her own thing and not watching the door until Cady came in. Pretending like her stomach doesn’t do little flips at the sight of her crossing the cafeteria. She pulls the flyer towards her and hums in amusement.

“The winter talent show,” she reads before chomping off a carrot stick. “Oh, is it that time of year already?”

“Seems like only yesterday we was welcoming the young’uns into this brave new world during the harvest season,” Damian sighs, putting on a delightfully over the top Southern Belle accent, no doubt influenced by their reading of Streetcar Named Desire in English class. Janis cackles, and nearly chokes on her lunch as she does.

“And now the cold winds of winter are descending upon us,” she replies, her accent equally heavy. She bats her eyes for good measure, because she can and because it makes Cady laugh. “Oh but I pray the children will survive this season, it is often rough for them.”

“I am never showing you two anything winter related ever again,” Cady says.

Janis just shrugs and runs her hand through her hair before her eyes go back to the flyer. Clearly, whatever sophomore they got to design it this year did their best; found the prettiest looking snowflakes on Google Images to put on the cartoon stage, decided to write in some swirling, slanted font rather than the start-studded block lettering they usually went for. It’s still the same as it is every year, meaning just as mockable, but she’ll give them points for tying.

“Well, anyone here going for it?” she asks. She looks from Damian to Cady and back again, a teasing smirk on her lips. “Last year and all that.”

“Not sure I can,” Damian sighs. “I mean, I’m booked up with Spelling Bee rehearsals and spring cabaret auditions happening next semester.” He drums his fingers against his throat. “Gotta give the little vocal chords some rest, you know?”

Janis’ response is to sing the lowest note she possibly can before turning to Cady and giving her a pointed look, the corner of her mouth quirked up.

“Who? Me?” Cady’s cheeks turned crimson and she shakes her head so much that the caramel curls bounced around her shoulders. “No way. Damian can take the stage, I’m fine with my calculators and textbooks.”

“You could always solve equations in front of everyone,” Janis says. “I could call out college-level questions from the audience and you solve them in under 30 seconds.”

“I think I’ll pass,” she giggles. She leans forward slightly, eyes glittering, and Janis does her best not to squirm. The effect Cady Heron’s eyes have on her should be studied by scientists. “What about you, Janis?”

“I don’t know.” She thinks back to when she helped on stage crew last year, as well as helping out (or taking over) with the set design. It had been fun, the kind of challenge she needed to keep her mind off the slowly-going-off-the-rails plan. And she was told it looked good on her college applications, because all people can think about apparently is college, college, college. “Maybe. They might need another genius stage manager.”

“And you’ll step in if they can’t find one?” She digs Damian in the ribs for that comment.

“But not performing?” Cady asks, and Janis freezes. Performing had never even crossed her mind before. She’s used to backstage, hell, she likes backstage. It’s not that she has stage fright or anything, and if she had, her stunt at Ms Norbury’s little healing session would have squished it. She had just never thought about it.

But Cady had, apparently.

“I-No, I-I don’t think so,” she stammers out. “Um, I might do backstage again, but not actually doing something, you know, talent related.” She bites her tongue and clamps her lips shut before anything else can come out.

“Okay then,” Cady replies slowly. She gets up from the table, her little empty water bottle in her hands. “I’m going to go for a refill, save my seat.”

“No problem,” Janis says, but Cady’s already jogging away.

She doesn’t know if it’s good or bad that Cady’s known her too long to think of her as cool, and so this kind of awkward babbling isn’t really surprising to her. Instead of thinking about it, she just sets her head on the table and lets Damian rub her back.

“You were nowhere near as bad as you think you were,” he assures her.

“Title of your sex tape,” comes her murmured reply. Damian chuckles and runs his fingers through her hair, like she’s his pet cat. It helps.

“So you’re definitely not going for the talent show then?” he asks.

Her first instinct is to say no, because of course she isn’t, because she never has before and she sees no point in breaking a three-year streak, but the answer catches in her throat. At the same time, something begins forming in her brain, pieces of a melody she’s already known, words filling in blank spots in her brain, and her fingers twitch involuntarily, playing the chords on an invisible guitar. Without a word, she grabs a notepad and pen from her bag and scribbles the words down before she forgets them, quickly becoming breathless just by sitting there. She forgets, for a moment, everything else, the talent show, Cady, even Damian next to her, and just revels in the task and the quick buzz she gets just from writing. Just like that she has one eye on the clock, itching to get home and put her notes into the rest of the song.

But with those notes came an idea, an idea so completely out of left field she almost laughs at it.

“Janis?” Damian asks, just slightly unnerved by her. If anyone else were at this table, even Cady (especially Cady), she would have had to excuse herself and run to the bathroom, or just hope the words stayed in her head long enough for her to get a quiet moment. “Did the Goddess of Music just possess you again?”

“Maybe,” is her response. He doesn’t know it, but she answered both the questions he asked in the past minute.

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She sits on her bed that night, her homework half-done and strewn across the desk, abandoned in favour of the guitar sitting in her lap and notebook open on her bed. She’s been working on his song for the better part of a week, inspiration and motivation seemingly striking and then fading whenever she gets a free moment. Abandoning it has crossed her mind-she’s no stranger to abandoning things that aren’t working-but for some reason she hasn’t quite been able to shake this particular song off.

Maybe it is Euterpe, the Goddess of Music, descending upon her because this song has to be finished, it has to be, Olympus willing it so.

Or maybe it’s because this song is one of the most personal things she’s ever written, a love letter she’ll never send, and the idea of it sitting unfinished drives her crazy.

She plays another chord and sings the line again, changing the ending slightly, and makes the adjustment in her notes.

She’s crazy. This is already crazy, her secret double life as a wannabe T-Swift, but now she’s gone beyond that. Thinking of actually playing it. On a stage. In front of people. She doesn’t care what people think of her, she stopped caring about that a long, long time ago, but holy shit what will people think of her after she does this? Life isn’t like the movies, she knows that much. It won’t be some pretty, softly-lit moment where the crowd sits with teary eyes, Cady runs onstage and kisses her and she’s offered a deal by some big shot producer, and they all live happily ever after the end. What could happen is people think she’s even more of a weirdo than they do now.

Or she gets tomatoes thrown at her head and she’s booed off the stage. That’s a possibility.

She calls Damian, because that’s the only way she sees out of her little thought cul-de-sac. She puts the phone on speaker and props it up against a pillow, keeping her hands free for her guitar and her pen. He picks up on the third ring, just as she’s strumming out a G chord.

“Oh, is someone prepping for her Grammy?” he asks. “You’re still taking me as your date, right?”

“Only if my dog can’t go,” she replies. She taps her nails against the wood, the rhythm too fast and frantic to just be a habit. Yes, she can tell Damian anything, and being nervous in front of him is laughable, but sometimes her body forgets that. “So, I was thinking about the talent show.”

“Oh? You’re going for stage crew again? Cool.”

“No-not exactly.” She knows he can’t see the smile creeping across her face, but she’d wager he can hear it through the phone. A small swarm of butterflies flutters in her chest, leaving her just slightly out of breath. “I… I. think I’m going to try performing in it.”

A burst of laughter comes through the phone, slightly tinged with static, and Janis wishes he were here so she could slap him. Even if it’s not malicious in intent at all, and she’s laughing right along with him. Slapping is kind of a love language for them.

“Okay, okay cool. What’re you going to do?”

“I’ll give you a hint,” she says, and then she plays the opening chords to her latest experiment. She doesn’t add in the lyrics, not yet. Still, she sits back and basks in his applause when she finishes, cackling into her hand. He might be one person, but he’s got enough enthusiasm to match a packed auditorium. “What do you think?”

“I’m into it,” he tells her. “So… that’s the one you’re doing?”

“Think so.” She tosses the pick between her fingers. Like he could feel her smile, she can feel his raised eyebrow through the phone, the elephant in the room poking her with its trunk. “Yes, I know.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You thought it,” she tells him, and he doesn’t deny it. She looks back over the lyrics she’s written and re-written. Despite some adjustments, it’s still in essence the same. Still about a girl with pretty hair who smells like vanilla and cinnamon, who has a boyfriend and is unknowingly breaking the heart of a girl with black eyeliner and paint stained fingers. Because her boyfriend is pretty and clean and smells like soap and can do math, and how is the poor art girl even meant to compare to that?

“Yes,” she says after a while. “It is about Cady.”

“Aw, my poor lovestruck songstress,” he sighs. He shifts then, and the air shifts with him. “You sure that’s the one you want to sing? I mean you have dozens of other non-Cady related songs. I’m sure Mr Duvall would love to hear Angry Teenage Lesbian Anthem.”

“First off, I gave that one a title, it’s called Shattered,” she reminds him. “And-” She freezes, the rest of her sentence catching in her throat. He’s right. She could perform one of her other songs, that are already finished and therefore removing the pressure to have this one finished, polished and stage-ready. And of course, it would mean she wouldn’t be standing in front of her entire grade and telling them all how badly she’s in love with her best friend. Showing her deepest secret to the people who have already driven her out of school once. It’s a far safer, potentially less traumatic option for her.

But…

“No,” she says. “I know it sounds crazy but I feel like… I feel like I need to do this.” She swallows thickly and picks softly at the guitar strings. “It’s like… like this way at least I’m telling her, you know? Even if she doesn’t know it.”

Of course, Damian gets it.

“That’s beautiful, babe,” he tells her. “So you’re actually doing this?”

“I’m actually doing this,” she replies firmly. “And tomorrow, I need you to make sure I don’t chicken out before I sign up.”

“Got it. I’ll just order you to do it as Senior Co-Chair of the Student Activities Committee.”

“That’s an abuse of power.”

“Then consider yourself abused baby.” He laughs and she laughs with him, and then she hears something on Damian’s end. “I have to go. A certain little sister of mine has a princess costume that needs attending to. See you later.”

“See you later,” she replies before he clicks off the call. She looks down at her paper, then at her guitar, and thinks about what she just committed to. “I’ve got some work to do.”

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The song goes through four rewrites in the weeks leading up to the talent show. The whole first verse is changed, the chorus scrapped and replaced with a new one, then that one is scrapped and she goes back to the old one. She sits hunched on her floor with a pencil in her mouth, wondering if what she’s written is too personal or not personal enough. If it’s too obvious that Cady, smart cookie that she is, will work it out and that’ll lead them down a new, scary path. She cuts some lyrics that give the game away, opting to replace one about love for numbers with love for learning, because that opens up the pool to half their grade. She writes about Cady’s blue eyes rather than specifically those double dimples that make her melt. Maybe she’s compromising her artistic vision, but it might be worth it if it’ll keep her crush a secret. She keeps the old lyrics tucked in the back of her notebook, just to have them.

Meanwhile, she’s also dealing with the fact that people know she has signed up for the talent show. That Miss Too Cool For School Loner Art Freak Janis is actually performing at a school event. And she doesn’t even get extra credit for it. They’re surprised, and curious, and none more so than Cady. The other girl appears at her side almost instantly after first period, skinny little arms wrapped around her bicep and blue eyes alight.

Oh, the things those eyes do to her.

“Janis!” she squeaks. “I saw-on the sign up sheet-your name! Oh my God, is this a joke? Did Damian put you up to it?”

“No, no, I signed up of my own accord,” Janis tells her. That only makes Cady bounce more, ponytail bobbing up and down.

“Oh wow, that’s amazing!” she says. She stops then, her mouth freezing in its place and her cheeks turning pink. Slowly, she comes down to Earth, like a balloon that had the air let out of it. Janis can almost hear the wheeze. “I mean um, it’s pretty cool, I guess.”

“It’s pretty grool,” Janis replies, and just like that Cady bounces back up again.

“Oh my gosh, what are you going to do?” she asks. “Or do you want it to be a surprise?”

“You think I have some secret knife-throwing talent?” she grins. She hesitates for a moment, looking down at Cady’s excited face, because even if this isn’t telling her… it’s telling her. “I’m… I’m going to sing.” She pulls on the strap of her backpack and avoids Cady’s eyes. “Something I wrote.”

“Okay,” Cady says. “Who are you and what have you done with my best friend?”

“Hey!” she laughs. “I can write stuff. I can be deep.”

“Oh, I have no doubt about it,” Cady says, bumping her arm against Janis’. “But for real, Janis, I can’t wait to see it. I know you’ll be amazing.”

Warmth spreads across her pale cheeks, a pink blush no doubt colouring her face, and she somehow manages to choke out a “thanks” as her brain turns to static. Her only thought is ‘Cady thinks I’m going to be good’, and it’s written in glitter pen across her brain.

“This is going to be great,” she goes on. “Oh, wait until I tell Aaron. He’s got a break in his schedule that week so he’s coming up to see the talent show! Isn’t that great?”

And just like that, Janis’ good mood falls. Her face stays the same, because she’s trained to do it, but everything behind it crumbles.

“Yeah, that’s great,” she replies. Cady squeezes her hand, oblivious, and drags her along the hallway, chatting away about some lion documentary she had watched last night.

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She finishes the song that night. She arrives home with a heavy chest, so full of complicated, messy feelings, and her conversation with Cady still so fresh in her mind, her ears still ringing from the emotional whiplash. Her parents barely get a ‘hello’ as she enters and bolts up to her room, her hands shaking, the thoughts swirling around her brain desperate to be let out.

And let them out she does. She writes so quickly they look more like smudges than words, her fingers flying over rapidly changing chords, her voice broken and panting as she sings. The words almost write themselves, like the song has taken on a life of its own and she’s just along for the ride. She barely remembers to pause, to breathe, so wrapped up in the storm she’s created with just her guitar and pen.

It’s only when she finishes and falls back on her bed that she notices the tears in her eyes. She blinks them away and pulls herself up, her notebook in her hand. It’s done. The perfect blend of her own honest feelings and just enough smokescreen to keep people from knowing who it’s really about.

There’s no backing out now, she thinks. Her stomach drops, like she’s on the top of a roller coaster about to go down. A laugh bubbles up in her throat and leaves her breathless, her head spinning while she’s still laying there.

If holy shit were am adjective, she'd use it to describe how she feels. Because holy shit.

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Being backstage when she’s not on crew is a strange experience. She stands with her guitar slung around her body, in the middle of a current of students moving around her, half with the clunky microphones and walkie-talkies she’s used so many times before. She asks five of them if she can do anything to help-because they’re her people and she needs to do something to occupy her time-until she finally takes the hint and leaves them to it. Stagehands are the most efficient parts of any production, as she told Damian once. They’re a well-oiled machine at this point.

“Yo!” For a second, Janis thinks she imagined the whisper, just one in a jumble of backstage noises, until Damian appears at her side. A tiny ‘shit’ escapes her mouth, her body jerking. Barely anyone bats an eye at her, except him. “Sorry, didn’t mean to spook you.”

“Don’t worry. I think at this point a small breeze could knock into me and I’d crumble.”

“The great Janis Sarkisian gets nervous?” he asks, eyebrow raised.

“Only when she’s doing something incredibly personal and scary in front of her entire grade,” she whispers back. She swallows past the lump in her throat. “Aside from that I’m a beacon of confidence and unshakable will.”

“Hey.” He taps his knuckles against hers. “Remember how scared you were at Norbury’s assembly?”

“You mean after I had my picture all over the school with the d-slur written underneath it?” she mutters. “Yeah, I was shitting myself.”

“And yet, look what you did there,” he reminds her. “You were amazing. And you’re going to be amazing here too. Once you get on that stage, all those butterflies are going to make you fly, kid.”

She smiles, her heart warm, and pressed her face into the crook of Damian’s neck.

She doesn’t know how she got so lucky to have him, but she knows better than to tempt fate.

“Janis Sarkisian?” She lifts her head to find a freshman girl with a headset around her neck looking at her. “You’re up next.”

“Okay.” It’s only now she becomes aware that the last minute of Fairytale Of New York is playing, the notes will soon fade out, and that’s her cue. She turns to Damian and lets him straighten her black cardigan and fiddle with the collar of her shirt. “Wish me luck.”

“You don’t need it.” He drops a whisper of a kiss to her nose. “But good luck.”

She holds her half-heart necklace as he goes, the twin to the one around his neck. It’s as close as she can get to having him with her. Her chest tightens as she makes her way to the stage and she tries to breathe through it, because the next thign she knows, Mr Duvall is announcing her name, and she’s being greeted by a blinding spotlight that thankfully obscures most of her peers’ faces.

“Uh, hi,” she says into the microphone placed out for her. It’s just people , she reminds herself. Somewhere in that crowd, second row, seat 14, is Damian, and she breathes easier. And next to him is Cady, the girl this song is about, and for some reason that straightens her spine and irons out the shaking in her voice. She takes the pick out of its holder and tosses her hair back. “This is a song I wrote about being in love with someone who doesn’t love you back.” She blinks and hopes no-one sees the tears in her eyes. “So sing along if you get into it, because we all know it’s a shitty ass feeling.”

She plays the first chord, and then any and all doubts she had about this flee her. As cliche as it sounds, the song takes over her, and she blows through the nerves in the first verse. The experience becomes cathartic instead, like releasing a pressure valve on her soul. Even with the little diversions she threw in, she hasn’t felt this open and god damn free since last year, paraded on her peers’ shoulders with both middle fingers up. Except now she’s not flipping anyone off, or proving a point, she’s just finally telling someone how she feels, and holy shit, it’s amazing. Whatever the aftermath of this is, she won’t care, it’s worth it just for this feeling.

As she sings the last word, and that final note rings in the auditorium, her hands are shaking, her cheeks wet with tears and her hair sticky with sweat. She touches beneath her eye and her fingers come away stained black. She hasn’t cried in front of people since middle school. She doesn’t care.

The cheers of her classmates ring in her ears, Damian’s whooping the loudest of all, and as she takes her bow, she hopes she’ll remember this moment for a long time.

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“Oh my God!” she’s barely into the auditorium when Cady launches herself at her, arms wrapped around her neck and legs circling her waist. Janis nearly topples over, digging her back leg into the ground just in time, and hugs Cady with the same ferocity. “You were amazing!” she yells into her shoulder, the sound muffled by Janis’ hair.

“Really?”

“Absolutely.” She sets Cady down, but the other girl keeps a tight grip on both her arms. Janis wonders if it’s to keep herself from flying away, given the amount of bouncing up and down she’s doing. “I can’t believe you wrote that! It was so good! You need to record it, Jan. Do you have any other songs?”

“Just a few,” she says. “And I don’t know if I’m in the business of making an album any time soon.” She swings her guitar case a little. “This might have been a one-time thing.”

“Well, even if it was, it was awesome,” she says.

“Thank you, Caddy,” Janis replies. “That means a lot.”

Her mouth runs dry as Cady smiles, all baby pink lipgloss and sparkling eyes and full cheeks. If this were a movie, she thinks, this would be the part where they kiss. No need for talking, or an explanation. Because Cady would have just known. The music would turn soft and twinkly, and the lighting would match it and it would look like they’re in a dream and they’d just kiss, and it will fix all of Janis’ problems. Maybe a single tear will run down her cheek. And then they’ll run off into their new lives as the end credits roll.

How sweet that would be.

But her life isn’t a movie. If she wants anything, she has to go for it herself.

And that includes-

“Caddy.” Her name is delicate on her lips, handled with care. Cady looks at her, giving a simple ‘mm-hm’ in response, and Janis’ heart beats out of control. “That song I just sang, it-”

“Hey, guys.”

Also if this was a movie, Cady’s sweet, lovely, nice boyfriend would not be barging in right now. He’d either be a douchebag who she doesn’t feel bad about hurting, or he’d be nonexistent.

Unfortunately, this is not a movie, and Aaron Samuels exists and is the human equivalent of a squishmallow.

“Hey Aaron.” He slings his arm around Cady’s shoulders, and she leans into his touch almost instinctively. “Janis, you were great up there. I didn’t know you wrote songs.”

“It’s a bit of a new hobby,” she says, her voice hoarse. She clears her throat, and finds a bottle of water being handed to-thrown at-her.

“Hydrate those chords,” is Damian’s greeting.

“This is what I get for being friends with a theatre kid,” she sighs before she takes a drink. She hadn’t realised how dry her throat was until now.

“Okay, so we’re all going for pancakes,” Aaron says. “I take it you two are coming?”

“How can I say no to pancakes?” Janis asks. “Uh, you guys go ahead, I have to get my stuff from the green room.”

“Okay, we’ll wait for you,” Cady says. “Aaron brought his car so he can drive us.”

“Grool.” Cady and Aaron turn around together, Aaron spinning his eyes around his finger and Cady lacing her fingers through his, talking about something she can’t hear. It’s like watching them through a sheet of glass.

Not a movie. Not unless it’s one of those really, really sad movies. Sad homophobic movies.

“You okay?” Damian asks. She snorts at the question. Nothing has changed, so of course she’s okay. But then, nothing has changed, so she’s not really okay.

“I did it,” she sighs. “It’s out there. I told her, unofficially. Whether or not she works it out…” She runs her hand through her tangled hair. “That’s something else entirely.” Damian hums in agreement, a sympathetic look on his face that soon morphs into a grin.

“Hey,” he says. “I’m proud of you.”

“Thanks Mom.” They snort, Janis caught between a laugh and a sob, and squeezes Damian’s hand. She’s not optimistic about any romance in her future, at least where Cady is concerned. She and Aaron are still rock-solid and she’s happy for them, whenever she isn’t angsting about it. It’s a weird combination to have.

And at least she’s done this now. Despite a future for her and Cady not being in the cards for now, she’s glad she did it. The secret isn’t out, not entirely. Just written on the walls in invisible ink.

“Come on,” she tells Damian. “I actually do have to get my bag, and you can use this as an opportunity to double check the ghost light is on.”

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Cady and Aaron keep their promise and wait for them, waving off their apologies as they jog across the parking lot. Cady lets Damian take the front seat with Aaron and slides into the back with Janis instead. Janis frowns, confused as to why she isn’t taking her normal seat up front, and Cady rolls her eyes.

“There was a draw on the way here, and we lost,” she explains. “And now Damian has control of the aux chord,” She gestures with her head to the passenger seat, and Janis turns just in time to see him open his Spotify and scroll through his playlists. As the opening notes to Waving Through A Window fill the car, it’s met with three loud groans. Damian only turns it up louder, and adds in his own backing vocals.

“So, that song you sang,” Cady asks, leaning back in the seat. “Was it about anyone in particular?”

Janis looks down, her hands pressed together in her lap. If this is the moment the universe decided to give her, it’s a really terrible moment. Not only is Cady’s whole boyfriend sitting an arm’s length away from her, but she left her nerve back in the auditorium. Clearly, her and fate aren’t on each other’s wavelength.

“You wouldn’t know her,” she says. “She doesn't even go here.”

“Oh,” Cady replies. Her face falls, but she’s not too put out by it. Why would she be? She nudges Janis’ shoulder, a proud smile on her face, and squeezes Janis’ hand. “Well, if she has someone like you into her and she hasn’t taken the chance yet, then she doesn’t know what she’s missing.”

Janis only thanks her, and quickly changes the subject.

Someday she might tell her for real, but for now she'll stick to the songs.

#mean girls broadway #mean girls fanfic #cadnis #janis sarkisian #cady heron #cadnis ff #cady x janis #space safari #mean girls musical

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anightflower · 5 years

Text

One Night Stand

Summary: After a shitty one night stand, Bucky slut shames your sex life. You get a little revenge by playing a game Bucky doesn’t like.

Characters: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: NSFW, 18+ ONLY: S M U T

You grumbled as you made your way down to the Towers main kitchen. Your body ached, you were exhausted, and all you wanted was a cup or coffee and some goddamn peace and quiet.

You internally groaned when you noticed that the kitchen was not empty. Bucky and Sam sat at the breakfast bar. One drowsily eating cereal, while the other attempted to flick runaway cereal pieces at the other. Natasha sat perched next to the coffee machine, scrolling through her phone and sipping from a mug of coffee.

Natasha's eyes left her phone and lit up as she focused on you. “You look tired (Y/N)” she snickered. “Did you have a late night last night?”

Out of the corner of your eye you noticed Bucky and Sam focus on you.

You glared at Nat as you made your way to the coffee pot and poured yourself a cup of coffee.

Don’t even start. “I don’t know what makes you say that Nat.” You said irritated.

“Well for one you look like hell, and two I don’t think you’re supposed to put salt in your coffee. Unless you really prefer it that way.” Sam piped up with a shiteating grin.

“Oh hell.” You hissed, tossing your salty coffee down the sink.

Natasha made her way over to you with a fresh mug of coffee. “So tell me, was he good?”

You nearly dropped the cup she handed to you. “NAT!”

“Oh please. I saw you sneak out last night like a horny teenager. You’re an adult now, you can talk about sex. Unless the boys can't handle it.” She raised a brow at Sam and Bucky who pretended not to listen.

Sam smirked into his coffee. Bucky remained stone-faced, glaring slightly at Natasha.

“I for one, don’t need to hear the details of another one of your slinky one night stands doll.” Bucky grumbled angrily, pushing his stool back from the counter.

“Slinky one night stands? Are you fucking kidding me Buck? Sorry I am a grown woman looking for quality sex that I clearly can’t find here!” You growled.

Bucky eyes burned with anger. He looked like he was about to say something but all he did was huff and leave the room.

“Sam maybe it’s time you got Bucky laid.” Nat observed, “He seems to always have a stick far up his ass.”

“Trust me, it’s not all it's cracked up to be.” You mumbled, stirring more creamer into your coffee.

“Was it really that bad?” Nat asked.

“Oh, the guy wasn’t bad, he was horrific. Only cared about himself. I may as well have stayed home and used a toy for hell’s sake.

Sam winced. “I did not need to know you had sex toys.”

“Oh grow up Sam, it’s not a woman’s fault that men don’t know what they’re doing. Men are the problem, sex toys are the solution.”

“Well, who knows (Y/N), maybe you'll meet a special someone at Stark’s Charity Gala Saturday.” Nat said wiggling her eyebrows at you.

“Fuck, I forgot that was this weekend. I’m all for charity, but if I’m forced to go to another one of Stark’s fucking parties-” You groaned.

“Uhem” You heard a familiar voice sound from the door. “First off you love my parties, even if it’s deep down. Second, you always look ravishing in whatever you wear, and lastly, you get all the free alcohol you want. All you have to do is force a smile and be friendly.” Tony hummed.

You rolled your eyes as you pushed past him, careful not to spill your coffee. If Saturday you had to be a social butterfly, today would be a lock yourself in your room and watch Netflix kinda day.

____________________________________________________________________________

“Tony was right, you do always manage to look ravishing. Very Bond-esque” Sam said to you as he entered your room.

You smiled at him through your reflection, admiring the slimming black dress you had on. “Thanks Sam. Have you come to be my handsome escort?”

He held a hand out to you, “Bond, James Bond, happily at your service.

His other hand produced a bottle of expensive liquor from behind his back, a liquor that was most likely stolen from Tony’s “hidden” cabinet. “I have also come to get you throughly wasted before this party. Bucky’s in a bitchy mood and Steve’s very busy trying to untie Bucky’s panties.”

“In that case, pour us some drinks, it’s going to be a long night if we have to deal with not one, but two grouchy old men.”

__________________________________________________________________________

You could have sworn this party was more extravagant than the last. The room shone with several different lights, giving it an ethereal glow. Champagne fountains stood about the room. It was like walking into a Great Gatsby fantasy.

Bucky and Steve were already at the bar, causing your joy to deflate a bit. You had avoided Bucky at every cost since the two of you had fought. He hadn’t sought you out to apologize either.

You let out an exaggerated sigh. “I hope the bar has enough of the strong stuff, otherwise I don’t think I’ll be able to deal with Bucky’s bitchiness all night, even with the alcohol we had before this in my system.”

Sam snickered. “He still hasn’t apologized has he?”

“Nope. So he’s definitely on my shit list. He had no reason to be angry with me or shame my sex life.”

Sam looked like he was about to say something, but stopped himself. He shook his head. “Just ignore him (Y/N). Bucky will be Bucky. Besides if you really feel like enacting revenge I know a little game you can play to piss him off even more.”

You groaned. “Sam as much as I would love to piss Bucky off more, I am not in the mood to play 'One Night Rate’ right now. This last guy really put me off for a while.”

“Oh come on (Y/N)! One guy can’t ruin your chances of a great one night stand. Look at all the beautiful people here.” He said gesturing around the room. “You’re telling me there isn’t a single guy you want to take home?”

There was one guy you wanted to take home, but he currently was the one person who you weren’t speaking to. You knew you would probably regret this but-

“Fine.” You groaned. “I’ll play, but that doesn’t mean I have to follow through with it.”

Sam grinned as you two made your way over to Bucky and Steve.

Steve smiled at the two of you, but it quickly turned into a suspicious look at the grin on Sam’s face. “What are you two up to?”

You and Sam remained quiet smirking at one another. Steve finally put the pieces together.

“You two are not playing One Night Rate again are you?” He groaned.

“Listen man, (Y/N) needs a better partner to make up for the last guy. The least I can do is support her and give good advice.” Sam said, as you blushed.

“You’re the one who convinced me to do it! I wasn’t even going to play it.” You laughed, nudging Sam’s shoulder.

Bucky stared at the three of you stone faced. “Do I even want to know what this game is?”

You gave Bucky a sarcastic smirk. “It’s a game Sam, Steve, and I came up with one night at one of Tony’s galas-”

“It was mostly Sam and (Y/N).” Steve interjected.

You rolled your eyes. “Sure it was Golden Boy.” Sam snickered. “Anyway, we were bored and perhaps a bit more intoxicated than we should have been-”

“Excuses, excuses.” Sam interrupted you. “You are avoiding the point. It’s basically a game where one of us chooses a person and the jury,” he gestured to you and Steve, “Comes to a consensus on whether or not that person should be brought home or not.”

Bucky raised his eyebrows. “Are you guys serious?”

“If you’re going to slut shame, you can always hang with Nat, I’m sure she’s drunk enough to put up with your assholery. Besides, you wouldn’t want to play such a sleazy game right?” You said, plastering a fake smile on your face.

Bucky winced. “(Y/N)-”

You held up a hand, stopping him. “I don’t want to hear it right now James.” You only called him by his first name when you were really pissed with him. “Right now, I want to drink, find a guy, and get an actual good fuck. So if you’ll excuse me.” You pushed past the three men, ignoring their shocked faces and Bucky’s very pissed one.

Sam grimaced. “So much for playing the game. Something tells me she’ll follow her own rules right now.”

____________________________________________________________________________

Sam had remained at the bar with Bucky and Steve, long after you left them. Bucky’s face was steely, his eyes following every move you made on the dance floor. You weren’t alone, and of course the guy you had chosen was incredibly handsy with you. As his hands slide down your body, Bucky couldn't help but let out a growl.

“Buck, I don’t get it. Why won’t you just apologize and tell her how you feel? You’re being idiotic.” Steve said gently, putting a hand on Bucky’s shoulder.

Sam nodded along with Steve’s sentiment. “Dude maybe if you opened your eyes you’d see that she actually likes you back.”

Bucky’s eyes shot to Sam. “What the hell did you say Wilson?”

Sam gave him a look. “Don’t play dumb with me Barnes, you heard what I said. She likes you. I’m surprised that such a good assassin like you could miss something as blatant as that.”

“Then why the hell does she go off with other guys then?” Bucky asked, irritated.

“Because she’s just as blind to it as you. You have no idea how obnoxious it is to be the middleman and keep quiet, especially when you’re dealing with two oblivious morons.” Sam groaned. Steve cackled loudly.

“What am I supposed to do? She’s off with some other guy.” Bucky sighed.

Steve smirked at him, “That never stopped you in the 40’s.”

_____________________________________________________________________________

This guy was doing nothing for you. He was sweaty, way too handsy, and was unfortunately not as attractive up close, a drunken mistake on your part. But you knew Bucky was watching and you would not cave easily, so you kept dancing.

The guy pulled you taut against him. “So babe when do you want to get out of here?”

You grimaced, resisting the urge to push the guy off you. Was pissing Bucky off really worth all this?

“I think I can take it from here bud.” A familiar voice said. It sent chills down your spine. Your date, what was his name? Jake? Jason? You couldn't even remember, that’s how uninteresting he was.

He turned to Bucky releasing his grip on you. “Back off dude, she’s taken.”

Bucky glared at him unmoving. “I think you misunderstood me asshole. Fuck off.” The dance floor lights flashed over Bucky’s face giving sweaty hands a better look at who he was talking to.

His face paled. “Oh shit I’m so sorry man, she’s all yours.” He quickly pushed through the crowd on the dance floor to get away.

You turned to Bucky and crossed your arms. “Are you fucking kidding me James? First, you call me sleazy and now you chase off any fucking guy I am interested in? What is wrong with y-”

Your rant was cut off as Bucky dragged you off the dance floor and through a maze of halls. You were too shocked to say anything as he pushed you into the fancy one stall bathroom and locked the door.

You yanked your arm out of his grasp. “What the fuck is wrong with you? You can’t just scare my date off then drag me into a bathroom.”

“Oh please, that guy was a scumbag, you could do much better.” Bucky snarled.

He turned his back on you and let out a frustrated growl, running his hands through his hair.

“You weren’t even playing the game right.” He said quietly.

“What?”

He turned back to you and moved toward you, causing you to back up until you hit the sink counter. His arms pinned down on either side of you and he leaned in. There were mere inches between both of your lips.

“I said you weren’t even playing the game right. You’re supposed to consult Sam and Steve and come to a consensus. You just picked a random asshole to piss me off. I at least played the game right.” He growled.

You heart was in your throat. You thought of what to say to defend your choices, then you realized what Bucky said. “Wait what do you mean you’re playing the game right?”

Bucky smirked. “The jury came to a consensus. You’re the best choice to take home tonight. You got the highest rating (Y/N).” His smile turned more sincere. “I want to take you home tonight and every night if you’ll let me. I know I’ve been an ass to you and I’m sorry. I was just so pissed that other guys got to have you while I couldn’t. And-”

You grabbed Bucky by his shirt collar and pulled him in, smashing your lips against his. A growl emanated from his throat as he wrapped his arms around you. Causing both of you to go into a frenzy.

You wrapped your legs around his waist as he lifted you up and placed you on the bathroom counter. You whined as Bucky placed kisses all down your neck. He sucked harshly in certain areas making you gasp.

“If I can finally have you all to myself, I want to mark you as mine.” He mumbled against your neck. His words went straight to your soaking core.

You began unbuttoning his shirt as he pushed up your dress. He pulled it over your head and threw it behind him, pausing to admire you in your matching black lace set. You returned the favor and pushed off his suit jacket as he attempted to unbutton his shirt. You let out a moan when his chiseled body was finally fully in view.

Bucky pulled down your bra causing your breasts to be pushed up from the material. He purred as he leaned down and worshipped each one, placing kisses all over the top, then moving down and sucking on your nipple. His hand went to your other breast, his fingers massaging and playing with your other nipple. He tugged at it causing you to let out a loud moan.

“Fuck, Bucky,” you cried out. He smirked as his hands and mouth traveled down your body. When he finally reached your panties, he looked you in the eye and slowly pulled them down with his teeth.

You were speechless.

“Fuck baby, just a few words and some teasing and you’re soaking for me,” He hissed out, his dick hardening as he gazed at your sexed out and wanton state.

‘Bucky please.” You begged. Wanting, no, needing him to touch you.

He smirked at you. “Oh I see now doll, when you want me to fuck you I’m Bucky, notJames?”

“James Buchanan Barnes, if you do not fuck me right now-” you growled.

Bucky chuckled, lowering his mouth to where you needed it most. Your growl turned into a pleasurable scream.

Bucky looked up at you, amusement in his eyes. He paused his work. “You know love, you’re lucky the music is so loud, otherwise you and I could be caught in this very scandalous position.”

You smirked and bit your lip. “Let them find us then.”

With that Bucky feasted on you like you were his last meal. His tongue swirling over your clit and licking your slit until you felt that delicious build up in your stomach. Your hands grasped and pulled at his hair.

“Bucky, don’t stop, I'm going to-” whiteness filled your vision as you came. You tried to close your legs, but Bucky had them pinned against the counter, continuing his work until you finished riding out your orgasm.

Your chest rose and fell rapidly as Bucky kissed back up your body until he met your lips.

You undid his belt and pants, letting his bulging member free. Bucky wasted no time lining himself up with your entrance. Sliding in slowly until he filled you completely.

You gasped at the pleasure that filled your body. You had never felt so full in any other one night stand. Hell hardly any of them had made you come like this once, or at all.

“God doll, you’re so tight.” Bucky groaned as he gave you time to adjust to his size.

“Bucky if you don’t start moving-” you threatened, but were cut off as Bucky quickly thrust in and out of you.

He smirked as you let out a pleasured squeak.

“Fuck you” you giggled.

“Gladly.” He replied as he picked up his pace.

It was relentless and god it was the greatest sex you had ever had. He had actually put your pleasure first, and was about to make you come again.

The feeling built up in your stomach, and you clenched around Bucky. As if he could read your mind, he reached down and began rubbing your clit. You had to bite back a scream.

Bucky smashed his lips against yours, as white flashed again in your vision, as your second orgasm hit you. Bucky followed soon after.

When you both came down from your highs, your eyes met and you giggled.

“What?” Bucky asked, returning your smile.

“I swear this better be the last one night stand I ever had, because all I want for the rest of my life is you Bucky Barnes.”

Bucky’s eyes softened and he planted a soft kiss on your lips. “Funny, because all I’ve ever wanted for the longest time, is you.” You felt your heart skip a beat.

Bucky’s face turned more mischievous. “Now let’s get out of here. I have a long night planned to show you that you actually can find quality sex around here.”

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