#I missed you so much Jen I hope you have been doing well | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

neoplatinum · 7 months

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we meet again | huh 'jennifer' yunjin

summary: yunjin and reader go on their non-refundable anniversary trip...as exes

pairing: ex gf!yunjin x ex!reader

themes: exes to lovers, miscommunication, discussions of needs, angst, fluff, suggestive-ish, paris!, sprinkles of humor here and there

wc: 4.5k

you stare into your cup of coffee as you wait for your plane to be ready to take off, the warm coffee is a nice contrast from the coldness you can feel from the woman next to you: your ex of four months yunjin.

she's been all frowny and defensive ever since you picked her up for the trip. her huffing and puffing and crossed arms and legs as she looks away from you.

you haven't spoken to her in months until you got an email that the trip you planned for your anniversary with yunjin sent a reminder email. you cursed your old self for setting up an auto-email service to notify her of the trip too.

then she texted you:

jennifer huh (ex): did you plan an anniversary trip for us?

you call her immediately, knowing you have to explain what happened.

"hi jen, and yes i did plan this as an anniversary trip." you begin rubbing your forehead as you try and weasel your way out of this awkward conversation.

"okay...it says here it's non-refundable." yunjin has always been quick at reading between the lines and you practically prayed for her to miss that portion.

"ah yes, well it is non-refundable." you fiddle around with a stress ball as she talks.

"so are we going?" yunjin cuts you off.

"what?" you sputter out, the stress ball that's been in your hand turning being smashed as small as possible. you begin pacing back and forth and even end up stubbing your toe. "fuck!"

"are you okay?" yunjin stops in the middle of her explanation when you curse through the phone. you mutter a quick yes and she continues, "well its my ticket, and i want to go. were you planning on going with anyone else?" yunjin goes silent.

"well no, maybe my sister but you would still have to transfer the ticket." you explain and sit back down, damn that pinky toe hurts so much.

"so it is my ticket." yunjin continues and you nod through the phone, "okay, i am going then." you groan out loud and yunjin begins calling you dramatic.

"whatever yunjin, i'll pick you up for the airport, i'll talk to you later."

leading to you both now sitting by the airport benches, both of your luggage separating you by a seat. all around you are families or couples headed for paris, when all you can think about is how soon this will be over.

yunjin is sporting her long leather jacket and her newly dyed red hair, which if you were being honest scared you when you first saw her. now all you can do is stare at how well it works for her, even near cursing her for still making your heartbeat after dumping you.

"stupid red." you mutter to yourself as you swirl your cup.

"what was that?" yunjin takes off one side of her headphones and leans into you.

"oh, just nice red hair." she nods at that and turns back to her music, plugging her headphones in. you scoff at the audacity of her. with that you turn back to watching planes, and hope that this three day trip ends quickly.

you're settling into your seat and ready to plug your earbuds in for this flight when you notice the couple next to you giggling loudly while cuddling each other, rolling your eyes at them two.

the girl looks at you and yunjin who has taken the window seat, "are you guys going to paris for your honeymoon?" she asks you while the guy nods excitedly at you.

"uhh, no we're not." you let out a nervous chuckle as the two begin going on a long conversation (very one-sided by the way) about how in love they are, and how they're going to paris for their honeymoon/anniversary. all you can do is sheepishly smile along and hope their monologue ends soon (it doesn't). yunjin chuckles next to you and you kick her subtly to get her to stop.

while you suffer through the long monologue of how they met, how many cats they raise and even drama about their friends, yunjin finds it hilarious yet sad, because honestly, you two could've been that couple, had you two not broken up.

-- day 1

"gosh! they talked my ear off, you know i downloaded like five different movies and a bunch of playlists for that flight, only to not watch a SINGLE movie." you begin venting about the couple to which yunjin finds amusing and pokes fun at you.

"that's on you for not knowing how to exit a conversation." she smiles as you both get a cab to the hotel.

once you've placed your luggage into the trunk and set off, you continue, "listen, i've always been horrible at exiting those situations, didn't help that they were both so enthusiastic."

"i know, it's how i got your number, remember?" yunjin says and you stop for a second, thinking about the first time you met. It was at a concert where she was next to you, talking your ear off about how much she loved the artist. she came alone because none of her friends listened to the artist. you, being the kind soul you were, let her talk to you through the whole concert, even letting her talk through your favorite song.

"yeah, i guess so." you turn away from yunjin in the cab, with the rest of the ride turning quiet.

"roses on the bed, and a single king bed?" yunjin questions as you enter the hotel suite. you begin to heat up, remembering how you specifically requested rose petals in the shape of a heart and champagne in an ice bath, along with towels folded into swans facing each other and kissing. god, the things you do when you're in love.

"ah! well, it was for our anniversary so i made a special request." you say really hoping she couldn't hear you.

"well, i'm glad i came, now that i can see this, i can make fun of you for being so cheesy," she says as she grabs the champagne from the metal bucket. "damn, champagne's expensive too. how much did you spend on this trip?"

she pops the champagne cork and starts pouring the golden liquid into two champagne flutes. passing one of the flutes to you.

"too much, had to dip into my savings," you say as you think about the credit card bill, a full body shiver running up your spine just at the thought.

she laughs and smiles at you, "well, consider me lucky."

you cough and try not to think about how different this trip would've been had you two not separated.

"i'm going to go wash up." yunjin puts her flute down and starts digging through her suitcase. you nod settle into one of the armchairs and turn on the hotel tv.

the shower turns on and with that you try to quiet your heart, constantly reassuring yourself that you will get through this trip and be able to be back at home away from an ex you're still in love with.

"what did i get myself into?" you groan and close your eyes, letting the sleep overtake you.

"hey...hey wake up." yunjin gently shakes your arm as you wake up from your nap. you groan and mumble incoherent thoughts.

"how long have i been asleep?" the grogginess is still settling into your bones, you open your eyes to the sight of yunjin wearing more casual clothes but still looking effortlessly beautiful with her wavy red hair and adorable glasses perched on her nose.

"long enough, i'm hungry, let's get dinner." she says and you nod, feeling the hunger from not eating on the plane and immediately falling asleep in the hotel.

outside, the sun has started to set, people are chatting and bright lights are adorning the streets. people are lively and there's even buskers playing violin and guitars, enticing the people to spare a few coins for their astounding performance.

you trail behind yunjin, watching the way she absorbs into the parisian night, with her film camera in hand and a smile adorning her face. it makes you yearn, yearn for another universe where you're hers once more. but to also yearn for answers of why she dumped you all those months ago.

"let's go in this one." she turns around and you're snapped out of your thoughts, she points at the restaurant and you follow her in. the smell of delicious food and the warm atmosphere is making you more hungry.

"right this way." your server brings you to your booth. and you seat yourself in front of yunjin, honestly something you haven't done in so long, that it's like you're falling in love all over again. the warm yellow lamp hanging over the booth makes her skin glow, and not to mention just her in general has your knees weak.

instead of staring at her like a fool, you try to focus on the menu in front of you. it works well because after a few glances at the mostly french menu, you're beyond confused with what to order. eyebrows furrowing and biting your nails at the french words.

"are you ready to order?" the waiter stands before you and before you can get out a word asking what these dishes are yunjin is quickly ordering her dinner in french and you sit there anxious.

"and for you?" the waiter turns to you.

"uh, this one?" you point at the menu and show him, he nods taking quick note of the orders before leaving.

you're back to the awkwardness of not having a menu in front of you to distract you from the beauty that is yunjin.

"so....how are you doing? dating anyone?" you start, trying to break the ice. you fiddle with your thumbs and avoid her gaze as she processes the questions you have thrown at her.

"are you kidding me? that's how you are going to start the conversation?" she scoffs at your lame attempt at having a serious conversation.

"what? i think those are reasonable questions." you mumble to yourself, feeling embarrassed you start drinking the water next to you.

"fine. i am doing fine and no, i am not dating anyone." she crosses her arms and glares at you from across the table.

"cool cool...." you trail off, trying to watch other people and feeling a little giddy when yunjin said she wasn't dating anyone.

the waiter returns with a basket of bread and butter, also refilling water cups and smiling at you both before leaving quickly. it doesn't go unnoticed that he keeps eyeing yunjin and smiling at her throughout the interaction.

"what about you?" yunjin starts with a slice of bread in her mouth.

"oh me, no not dating anymore, of course not." you let the words tumble out of your mouth, forgetting how you are trying to keep your walls up around yunjin.

"what do you mean by 'of course not'?" she questions as she spreads more butter onto her baguette.

you also grab a slice of bread and start smearing it with butter, thinking of ways to exit this topic as smoothly as possible, "just you know...not there."

she nods and you can see that she wants to prod more into why, but the waiter shows up with both your dishes in hand.

"for you madam," he places her beef bourguignon in front of her. meanwhile placing your seafood pasta in front of you. "and for you."

"shit..." you mumble as you stare at your dish, yunjin sighs but lets out an amused smile at the sight.

"of course you managed to order a seafood dish because you didn't understand french." she laughs at you, and all you can do is feel even more embarrassed from how this trip is going. "let's switch."

yunjin trades plates with you, your heart warms when she remembers your seafood allergy. you thank her sheepishly and begin digging into your dish. "jen! this is delicious!" you exclaim with a piece of beef in your mouth.

she smiles at you warmly and takes a quick photo of you, making your cheeks warm at the sentiment, remembering her habit of taking photos of you when she found you cute.

the waiter returns this time, but you look at him confused because you haven't ordered anything else.

"hello madam," he starts while leaning on the booth by yunjin's side, showing off his pearly white smile and trying to be suave, "how are you enjoying paris?"

"it's lovely here, thank you for asking." yunjin starts, you can only watch as the two engage in conversation, making you more and more quiet as time passes.

they speak about parisian culture and even share a few phrases in french that you definitely could not understand. you end up only focusing on your dish until he leaves much later. yunjin looks back at you and is confused by the switch in your demeanor.

yunjin goes quiet at the sight of you so down, so she also begins quietly eating her (your) seafood pasta, and as the time dwindles to the end. the waiter returns with the bill and a napkin that he slips to yunjin, it doesn't take a genius to understand what he gave her.

you huff angrily as you pay for the dinner. and yunjin follows you out of the restaurant and disposes of the napkin in front of you. she turns to you with her hand open and waiting for yours. you take it as you both stroll down the streets of paris with full bellies and a noticeably happier mood.

-- day 2

yunjin has managed to convince you (you really don't know how) to go and get caricatures of the both of you for "memories". you groaned at the idea, but there you sat in the small ratty chair in front of the french artist, and waited for this quick drawing. after a few quick minutes, the artist hands you the drawing, showcasing a funny imagery of yunjin stomping your head to the ground as your relationship.

"hey! you can't draw that!" you exclaim as you go over the painting, you can't lie though, the guy was talented.

yunjin just laughs and drops euros into his hand before dragging you away from the chairs. "don't take it too seriously, it's just a drawing." she takes the drawing from your hands before stuffing it into her purse and folding her arms with yours.

"so, what should we do today?" she says to steer you away from thinking about the drawing.

"well actually, i had an itinerary ready for this trip," fishing your phone out of your pocket, you begin listing places that you wanted to take yunjin to. "the louvre?"

she stops her feets and her jaw drops and you can see her happiness just overflowing.

"yes yes yes! you know me too well, lifelong dream to see the mona lisa." she says and you smile, remembering that's why you put it on your itinerary, and soon you're flagging down a cab to head to the louvre.

god, you're never getting over her at this point. you try not to dwell on that thought and instead let things come as they are.

she's busy capturing photos of the mona lisa and other pieces, while you are capturing memories of her in your mind. taking slow steps behind her as she reads through the description of each piece that intrigues her.

she's gorgeous in her dark green leather coat, red hair flowing down her back with her trusty film camera looped around her wrist. she looks like she belongs in an art museum and you're left wondering if you can ask the art curators to put a picture of her as a piece.

once you reach the end of the museum, you begin to realize there really hasn't been any piece that has intrigued you to look at, even when yunjin was admiring the mona lisa, all you could focus on were her gorgeous eyes.

that day, you hope that you can always make her happy, even if she no longer is yours.

"of course we have to go to see the eiffel tower, i don't care that it's cheesy and cliche, we HAVE to go." she explains to you as she's touching up her makeup again. the two of you returned to the hotel after a long day of exploring local attractions, but now yunjin is explaining that you two definitely need to go despite how tired you are.

while she goes on and on about the importance of a paris trip including eiffel tower pictures, you try to keep your eyes open. the warmth of the jacket that you still have on, swallowing you.

"okay okay, we should go." you get up and start rubbing at your eyes, even letting out loud yawns as you put on your shoes. yunjin finally takes a look at you and starts to feel bad for pushing you to do so much today.

"you look tired, we can go another time?" she starts, feeling embarrassed.

you grab a hold of the wall as you tuck the back of the shoe over your sock, "not at all, let's go!"

you look tired, eyes lower than usual. with a stretch and a neck crack, you look more energized and ready to take on the night.

"let's go!" you exclaim, opening your palm for her to hold onto. she can only smile and think about how sweet it is that you are trying to do activities that she wants to do.

"okay, let's go." she responds, your hand wraps around hers tightly as you both get out of the car and walk through the crowd to get closer to the eiffel tower.

while yunjin stares at the little lights adorning the eiffel tower, sparkling like the stars in the sky, you try and take discreet photos of her. thinking about how you are basically in an alternate universe that exists only you and yunjin, and soon reality will return with you alone and single. these photos will remain to remind you that this trip wasn't a dream, what little you have to cling onto.

she's enjoying the night breeze and the liveliness of the people around her, but you're focused on her. she's also capturing photos of the eiffel tower but taking time to snap photos of the people around her. until her camera lands on you, snapping a photo of you, taking a photo of her.

then you both move away from your cameras and look at each other, and time feels like it stops when you both just admire each other. her eyes become glossy and tears are flowing down her cheek.

you make a quick dash to hug her, holding her tightly. you feel her lay her head on your shoulder and you can feel her body wrack into yours, with quiet sobs and she wraps around you like she'll lose you too.

it feels like the world is crashing around you two, with her grabbing onto your jacket and pinching it so hard. you start rubbing her hair in the motion that you know will bring her comfort, as it has done many times before.

you must've been there for a long time, because people are looking at you two in sympathy, a traveling florist even hands you a free rose to cheer you up. you immediately slip the rose into her pocket. and she stops hugging onto you to see the rose in her breast pocket. she smiles a little, and with a shaky voice, "let's go back to the hotel please."

you nod and hold her hand as you two take the long way back. her hand is still very much holding onto yours tightly. and by the time that you two are back in the room, she drops onto the bed and taps the be urging you to join.

you slip off your shoes and jacket and settle on the bed, facing yunjin. she twirls the rose between her fingers and finally looks at you.

"do you know why i broke up with you?" she whispers, and your body has frozen up, yunjin kept the break up very simple. a single 'let's break up.' over coffee and then she left.

"i don't." you whisper back.

"do you want to know?" she whispers back.

"yes, i really do." you sit up and watch her thinking for a while.

"i broke up with you because i didn't feel like you loved me anymore. whenever we hung out it never felt like you cared anymore, you were even inconsiderate at times and i think, no, i believed that you fell out of love with me."

you nod, but each word cracks your heart a little more, thinking about how wrong each word feels. it simply wasn't true, you never stopped loving her and the guilt of making her feel this way makes you want to vomit.

"this whole trip, i feel like i saw the old you again, the you that fell in love with me and showered me with attention." she continues her monologue and breathes harder at the emotions that were being kept at bay. "earlier, when you were taking photos of me and i caught you, it was exactly like our first date, it hurt so bad..." and by now she's sobbing and you're sobbing and it's all just a big mess.

"it hurts so bad that now i know you never fell out of love with me. that i made a mistake by breaking up with you and we've been months apart when we could've had this happy anniversary together." she continues with tears in her eyes and she's holding you close. alternating between crying and talking.

you take in the words openly, understanding the position that you've put her in and how hurt she was by your lack of attention. you can't even deny it either, those last weeks before the breakup felt like a rift between the two of you, neither knowing how to go forward. with yunjin making the final and unfortunate decision of dumping you.

"jen, you mean everything to me, and i'm so beyond sorry if it feels as if i never prioritized you." you are also trembling in her hold as she listens to you, nodding to your words every so often. "i never and mean never fell out of love with you. i'm sorry that it took a vacation to figure this out too."

she stops completely and holds your face in her hands as she completely dives herself into a passionate kiss. searing her lips against yours and pushing you into the bed more.

"you're mine." yunjin speaks in between kisses.

"yours." you move your hands into her hair and pull her close, bodies molding into one as the night goes on.

-- day 3

three quick knocks disturb you from your sleep, you rub your eyes and open them to the harsh rays of the windows.

"cleaning service!" you could hear outside the room, and you examine yourself. naked as ever and clothes all sprawled around, yunjin dead asleep on the other side of the bed.

"shit!" you run to the closet and grab a bathrobe and quickly tie it around yourself as you rush to the door. finally giving one glance at the bird's nest of hair, you pat down the hair as much as you can before opening the door slightly.

"hi! um, we don't need cleaning right now, maybe later?" you ask worriedly, the lady eyes your bathrobe and your hair and gives a smirk before walking away to the next room. you cringe at the idea that she knows exactly what you have been up to and close the door quickly.

"phew." you are relieved that they didn't walk into you and yunjin butt naked for cleaning service. meanwhile, yunjin has approached you from behind and wrapped her arms around you.

"hi, come back to bed." she pulls at your robe and pulls you towards her.

"oh okay..."you're confused but let her pull you back to bed. cuddling with her feels nice and reminds you of the days you spent lounging in each other's place.

"jen! i cannot believe you!" you stand on the far end away from her, backing yourself into a corner.

"what? i didn't do anything wrong." she stalks towards you with a devious smile as she watches you examine yourself in the mirror.

"you mauled my neck!" you exclaim as you claw at your neck looking left and right at the damage she's done. yunjin rather looks proud of her handiwork and instead pulls you onto her lap.

"okay no need to be a big baby about it, let me touch it up." she pulls out her concealer and starts going to town on the many hickeys she's left littered across your neck.

you huff and complain while yunjin lets you drone on while applying concealer until you're satisfied. she doesn't mention the new marks she's dug into your back, quite happy that only she can see them.

you both set out for a much chiller day outside, leisurely walking in parks and chatting while enjoying the parisian weather. you reach a quiet spot in the park, pulling out a blanket and your picnic basket.

yunjin doesn't comment on the humongous scarf that you have wrapped around your neck, but it does make her laugh a bit to see it.

you two are enjoying the nice breeze, when you hear smacking sounds nearby. looking around, you don't spot anything unusual until you notice a couple practically eating each other's mouths off. a closer look and you realize you recognize the two as the couple from the plane into paris.

you immediately turn your head to yunjin, "pss, the couple from the plane is at my six."

she quickly whips her head around and lo and behold the couple is still loudly eating each other's faces off. she laughs at the sight before capturing your lips with hers. "we should beat them."

"jen noooooo." you groan and turn away from her, uninterested at the idea of attracting their attention. she simply laughs and continues to enjoy the picnic. the rest of the trip goes well, often sharing little tidbits of your lives in the past couple months without each other.

after enjoying your "anniversary" trip in paris, you both get ready to go home. holding hands and kissing through the cab ride, plane ride and even through baggage claim.

you spot your sister out front of the pick-up terminal with a big sign "welcome back lovers!" you groan at the sign, of course she would show up with a poster plastering you and yunjin's photos to pick you up.

"she knows we're back together?" yunjin comments in confusion.

"i didn't even tell her, she just kept saying she knew we would get back together when the trip was over." you hold yunjin's luggage as your sister tackles yunjin into a hug, spilling about how much she missed her.

"i'm here too you know...your actual sister." your sister simply swats you away and enthusiastically asks about your trip to yunjin.

you drive off with yunjin's hand in yours and a warm smile as yunjin talks about the trip to your sister.

a/n: i apologize if there's any inaccuracies about paris, i've never been 😭 this post was inspired by a fic i read a longggg time ago. stay safe and stay healthy everyone!

#huh yunjin #huh yunjin x reader #huh yunjin x you #jennifer huh #le sserafim #le sserafim x reader #le sserafim yunjin #yunjin #yunjin x reader #yunjin x you #neoplatinum

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wileys-russo · 1 year

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late night visits II k.mccabe x reader

i think this is the longest fic i've written so far but as she deserves, katie is so lover girl coded and no one can convince me otherwise

late night visits II k.mccabe x reader 7.3K words

"katie!" the irishwoman glanced up with a squint, standing taller to try and see over the crowd of drunken bodies packing the bar. finally she spotted her friends jammed into a booth toward the back and pushed her way through toward them.

"jesus is there like a two for one special on drinks tonight or what?" katie huffed as she took the vacant seat beside leah, looking around at the hordes of patrons around them. the little restaurant and bar was hardly unknown, however it rarely got this busy.

"guess our little secret isn't so secret anymore." jen chuckled, sliding katie a rum and coke she'd ordered her earlier as the irishwoman sent her a grateful smile before necking it. "slow down katie! it's not a race." beth laughed with a shake of her head as the irishwoman grinned.

"almost every bar in manchester was like this it took like a half an hour to even be served!" alessia piped up, seated beside leah and across from jen. the small group of girls deciding at training earlier today they'd go out for a drink tonight since there wasn't a match this weekend.

the invitation had been extended to the whole team but a lot had plans to go and see partners or family in the short few days break.

"oh we don't have that issue here, do we katie?" jen teased with a smirk as the girl in question rolled her eyes. "i don't even know if she's workin jen, lay off!" she defended. :please like you haven't memorised her schedule by now." leah joined in with a chuckle.

"i feel like im missing some context here?" alessia piped up with a confused frown, not quite following along with the light hearted teasing.

"katies sleeping with one of the bar tenders." beth eagerly filled the younger blonde in as viv smacked her on the shoulder with a look of disapproval. "are you?" alessias curious gaze turned to katie who groaned.

"sometimes. it doesn't matter anyway its none of any of your businesses!" the brunette warned sternly, sending a particularly harsh look toward laura who couldn't seem to stop herself from laughing at the situation.

"wonderful. you can get the next round then!" leah grinned and gave her a shove almost sending the girl flying onto her ass out of the booth as katie shot leah a glare but nonetheless stood to her feet.

"russo you're coming with me, i need extra hands and you're the least annoying one present tonight." katie gestured toward the girl who scrambled quickly over leah.

"thank you…i think?" alessia frowned as katie slung an arm over her shoulder, tugging her away from the group who resumed their chatter. "so is she here?" the blonde asked looking around eagerly as they finally got to the bar.

"that one." katie gave in with a sigh, nudging alessia and pointing you out where you were busy making cocktails at the other end of the bar. "she's gorgeous." alessia stated with a nod of approval as katie couldn't help but chuckle, small talk made between the two as they waited for someone to come take their order.

someone who katie secretly hoped was you.

meanwhile you joked around around with a few regulars, making sure to maintain the bright smile on your face despite how much harder you were needing to work tonight, the growing frustration inside you that as per usual your boss had understaffed for a busy night to save money.

"well well, i thought i heard security talking about trouble brewing." you greeted the familiar irishwoman with a grin as you wiped your damp hands on your apron, katies own face curling into a smug smile as she shamelessly checked you out.

admittedly the brunette was somewhat of a weak spot for you, there was just something about her cheeky grin which oozed confidence, paired with that strong accent and effortless charm she made your knees buckle.

you wound up a messy of sweaty limbs tangled in one another's bedsheets far more often than you'd care to admit, reaching out to one another at all sorts of hours with all sorts of excuses for your late night visits.

it should have been a seemingly easy relationship, you used one another for whatever was needed without really holding any responsibilities for how the other felt.

the first time you'd slept together was a few months ago and you'd both agreed it was just a one time thing. merely a drunken fling as you and katie had shared a few drinks once you'd clocked off for the night, which inevitably ended in your sweaty bodies pressed up together in her bed a couple of hours later.

yet months later and here she still was, looking you up and down with a hungry glint in her eyes probably imagining the lustful activities she hoped would be happening later on.

there was just one small problem to all of this, which was that you secretly wanted more. you wanted her in a way where it didn't feel transactional, where you weren't just a late night thought but rather could be someone meaningful to her.

but you knew that wasn't on the cards for katie and so you'd convinced yourself into a firm state of delusion where it didn't hurt to continue on like nothing had changed and you didn't secretly hope for more.

your friends had begged you end it, seeing how much it knocked your normally confident persona down, playing on your self esteem and picking at insecurities you didn't even know were there as you couldn't help but wonder why she only wanted to keep it casual if it was such a seemingly common occurence.

you couldn't quite say when things had started to shift,. as at first you were more than satisfied with just being friends with benefits, barely meeting the friends part since you hardly knew anything about one another.

maybe that's what had made it easier in the early stages, that lack of knowledge and impersonal connection. you didn't know anything about football nor did you care to change that, so of course to you she was just a girl, not some big celebrity superstar athlete.

thats not to say she didn't show her athletic prowess in other ways, the irishwoman had the best stamina you'd ever seen and could go for hours without even needing a water break.

and when the relationship was only transactional, impersonal and occasional, you were fine with it.

but lately, lately things had been different. and it had all started a couple of weeks ago.

once the two of you had finished for the night, katie had stuck around. she begun to ask questions, about you, your work, your family, and to your shock seemed actually interested in the answers.

she hadn't stayed the night, only for a couple of hours and a cup of tea but it was out of the ordinary behavior from your usual arrangement. though you'd tried not to dwell on it too much, knowing that overthinking it was dangerous.

but then it had happened again the next time, and again the time after that. katie once more asking you question after question, and if she wasn't doing that she was telling you the more intimate details of her life and her family, or debriefing about a particularly hard training session or her concerns for an upcoming match.

without even realising it she'd kicked down your walls and she'd done the worst possible thing in a friends with benefits situation, she'd begun to accidentally indulge you into what it could be like if the two of you were more.

"we're completely out of bacardi and we're running low on jager." nathan, one of your coworkers, popped up beside you as you bent down to grab a cider for a customer from the fridges under the bar.

now counting down until the end of your shift, you were endlessly grateful you weren't on close tonight. though things had begun to die down, the more rowdier of patrons beginning to be moved on by security, you knew there would be some that lingered long into the night.

"there's more downstairs, i'll go stock up before i finish so you don't need to worry about it. can you handle this for awhile?" you offered, the boy sighing in relief and nodding with an appreciative smile.

you untied your apron and tossed it under the counter, jumping over the small gate at the end of the bar and ducking around the corner where only staff were allowed.

busying yourself quickly checking your phone you hadn't noticed someone follow, someone whose eyes had been trained to you most of the night, who'd been relentlessly teased by her friends for exactly that.

"scuse me but has anyone ever told you your bum looks quite peachy in those shorts?" your eyes flickered up from your screen as the brunette grinned cheekily, taking a few steps toward you as you shook your head and slipped your phone into your pocket.

"just drunken creeps who i've had kicked out right afterwards." you smiled, katies hands finding their way to your hips as she gently pressed you into the wall, blue eyes twinkling mischievously.

"send them my way next time, i'll be sure to teach em some manners about how to treat a pretty girl." katies smile widened as her eyes flickered down toward your lips.

"i'm still on the clock here mccabe." you chuckled, pushing her off gently as you knew what would happen next if you didn't. "well then when do you get off?" she asked, pressing her body back into yours as you shook your head.

"in an hour." you revealed watching her lips curl into a smirk. "then i'll meet you out back by your car." the older girl spoke suggestively, face so close to yours you could feel the warm tickle of her breath against your lips but then just like that she was gone, striding off back into the public area seeking out her friends.

with a sigh and a shake of your head you straightened up, banishing the lust which clouded your mind and hurrying off downstairs to the dry store.

of course katie wound up in your bed that night, a chorus of moans of plesure and lips smacking together in sloppy kisses, crisp linen gripped in white knuckled fists with sweaty limbs tangled.

this was then once again followed by a cup of tea and soft conversations about your childhood pets, quite the contrast from your previous activites.

then things only became stranger that next morning.

sundays were always your day off so you'd never have alarms set, allowing your body to wake you up whenever it was ready, purposefully never setting up any plans or commitments you needed to arise early for.

so when your eyes fluttered open around eleven in the morning, your room still quite dark due to an overcast and cloudy day, nothing seemed out of sorts.

it wasn't until you shifted tiredly that you felt someone move beside you. your body was instantly jolted awake, and that's when you became aware of the warm arm draped lazily over your naked midsection, an arm that was not yours.

with a sharp intake of breath you slowly turned your head to the side, seeing a mop of brunette hair sprawled across the pillows, duvet only partially covering her half naked form, tanned back moving up and down as she slept soundly with her face smushed into the mattress, and your eyes widened at the sudden realisation that katie had slept over.

she never slept over, even spending a few hours chatting your ear off with a cup of tea she'd never stayed afterwards. you weren't sure if she could hear but your hate rate began to thunder in your ears, thumping like horses hooves against a track as your cheeks flushed scarlet red.

"i can feel your eyes burning a hole into the side of my head ya know." the irishwoman finally spoke, accent somehow thicker in her half awake state as she gently pushed herself up and flopped onto her side with a tired sigh.

your skin burned where her arm had been as she retracted it, running a hand through her hair and flicking it to one side of her head, blinking tiredly with a stretch as your eyes did their best not to fall directly down to her bare chest.

"you can look you know, certainly did last night." she grinned, immediately noticing your internal struggle as her own blue eyes shamelessly roamed your naked body with a hungry glint before you tucked yourself more into the duvet making her chuckle.

"you stayed over." was all you could manage to spit out, raising an eyebrow in surprise. "with observations like that you could give up bar tending for some detective work." katie smiled teasingly as you rolled over and grabbed your top off the floor.

slipping it over your head to somewhat cover up you tossed katie's at hers, the material smacking her in the face as you sat up, snatching your underwear off the floor and wiggling quickly into it.

"you've never stayed over." you made your point a little firmer, slipping out of the bed as katie now sat up, tugging her own shirt on.

"well we were talking in bed and i guess we both fell asleep." the irishwoman shrugged casually, grabbing her suit pants off the floor and slipping into them, buttoning them as she stood. you only hummed not really believing her as the action was so out of character, but you were too tired to argue as you tied your hair up into a messy bun.

"you should come to the game today, there's still tickets." katie spoke up again, sat on the end of the bed as she laced up her shoes. you choking on your own spit at the shock from her statement, the girl glancing over her shoulder with an amused smile before turning back round, not mentioning anything more than that.

you walked her to the front door wordlessly, cogs going into overdrive in your mind, almost in shock katie couldn't hear how loud your overthinking was right now.

"catch you later maybe kid." katie winked charmingly, pressing a kiss to your cheek and stepping out the front door. striding down your driveway without a single look back she slipped into an uber as you touched your cheek and slowly closed your front door.

oh you were down bad, and maybe it was time you started dealing with it.

and that exact thought was how you found yourself huddled among a small group of your friends, rain drizzling down on your head and body tucked into itself trying to utilise your body heat to warm up.

your friend mathew was doing his very best to keep you interested, explaining every little rule and tactic that he could as the match dragged on, desperate to try and up your enthusiasm of what was apparently a fantastic game being played.

the poor boy raised a die hard arsenal fan was over the moon when you'd loosely mentioned attending as the two of you caught up for brunch. within five minutes he'd somehow conjured you up a ticket, forced you into a jersey, talked your ear off the entire car ride and here you were.

you'd chosen not to mention that the girl you were so hung up who was in your bed at least twice a week nowadays was the katie mccabe, you'd not told any of your friends her actual name only referring to her as 'bar girl', and so the only ones who could have put two and two together were maybe your coworkers.

though all of you were generally so run off your feet most nights they hardly batted an eyelid into your personal life, too focused on making it home to their own beds rather than being hung up on who was sneaking into yours.

"oh they're doing a lap! come on i wanna get my shirt signed by viv if i can she's one of the only ones im missing." mathew eagerly grabbed your hand, practically yanking you out of your chair and away from the rest of your friends who you hastily waved goodbye to.

"you know if i just gave you my jersey one time-" "no matty, the answer will always be a no." you chuckled, despite not knowing of your late night visitors identity the boy did know the arsenal girls frequented your workplace, and he was forever pestering you about having them sign something

you'd held firm with a no, and would continue to.

one of the main reasons the girls continued to come back was that you all made sure to treat them like actual people, and despite being more than household names your regulars tended to leave them be most of the time as well, most of the time.

you hung by yourself away from the main crowd eagerly chatting to the players, leaning against the barrier and busying yourself organizing to cover a few vacant shifts next week.

trying to save to upgrade your car you would take any extra money you could get at the moment, now only a few thousand away from your goal.

"want me to sign that for ya?" your head lifted at the familiar accent, meeting her mischievous blue eyes as she gave you an alluringly cheeky smile.

"no thanks i'm waiting for a starter, not a bench warmer." you quipped back, slipping your phone into your pocket as katie feigned offence.

"how about a goal scorer then?" the brunette moved a little closer, leaning on the barrier with her hands as your eyes drifted down to her well toned arms before flickering back upwards, which didn't go unnoticed by the irishwoman.

"oh did you score? didn't see." you brushed it off with a shrug, katie opening her mouth to speak but falling silent as mathew appeared back by your side, slinging an arm over your shoulder.

at the sight katies stomach flipped a little and her jaw clenched, she watched the boys mouth move, words clearly directed toward her as she only hummed and sent him a polite smile, barely listening.

"well well well, look who it is. our favourite bartender!" the brunette snapped back out of it as jen appeared by her side with a smirk, closely followed by beth. "i thought you weren't a football fan." beth teased, and katie watched as you gestured to the boy beside you, blaming him for your attendance.

you picked up on katies lack of joining into the conversation, trying to catch her attention again but eventually having to excuse yourself and mathew as you had dinner plans. "oo a hot date is it?" beth teased, shooting katie a subtle side eye, the blonde also picking up on her lack of effort to join in.

"every sunday! she loves me for my roast dinners." mathew grinned, pressing a sloppy kiss to your cheek as you gagged sarcastically and pushed his face away.

"see you round then." you smiled, directing the comment more toward katie than anyone else, frowning a little as she blanked you and walked off without so much as a glance your way.

you didn't see or hear from katie for the next few days, which wasn't all that abnormal seeing as since the two of you were just casually sleeping around you hardly had a regular routine of meet ups.

however when you did finally see her again it wasn't under circumstances you expected.

you were covering the closing shift for nathan tonight as it was his 30th birthday. the seemingly quiet Wednesday not one of your normal rostered days it seemed to be a running joke among the regulars present.

yet no matter how many times you heard the same one liner you still faked a laugh and a grin, watching the tip jar fill up gradually as you did so with a satisfied smile.

given it wasn't all that busy you found yourself people watching in the odd pockets of free time which fell your way, a habit which was easily one of your favorite perks of the job. yourself and your coworkers often busied yourself dreaming up extravagant imaginary lives for the drunken strangers occupying the bar.

but that was how you spotted her, tucked away in a table toward the back and not by herself, an unfamilar blonde sat beside her and the two seemed quite cosy. you watched with a frown as katie mucked about with the blonde, kissing her on the cheek as the girl shoved her away with a grin.

you couldn't but feel as though you'd been punched in the stomach as you wrenched your eyes away, plastering a fake smile on your face and hurrying off to serve a patron.

thankfully you managed to avoid interacting with the irishwoman for the most part, katie too busy entertaining her date as the blonde came up a few times to grab them both drinks, and by some miracle she'd been served by someone else each time.

though of course that luck didn't last.

as the bar began to empty you busied yourself starting to pack down and clean glasses. but you watched on hopelessly as katie made her way over and with your coworker for the night already occupied with other patrons you knew you'd have no way of avoiding her.

"hey." was all the brunette said with a smile that you returned, handing her a rum and a coke like she always ordered and waiting for if she wanted anything else. "oh nah just a water for me i'm drivin, and a glass of house red please." you nodded and wordlessly prepared her drinks.

"just 8.40." you placed the eftpos machine up on the counter as katie tapped her card and hearing the beep you turned back to what you were doing. "hey, can i see you later?" you glanced up realizing she hadn't left yet, lingering at the counter with her drinks in hand and a hopeful look in her eyes.

"i'm on close tonight." you shook your head and katie frowned, unsure why you seemed so upset with her. "i just wanted to-" the brunette started but you cut her off with a scoff, in disbelief she was really trying to come onto you while out with another woman.

casual or not you had higher standards for yourself than that, and maybe your friends were right and it was time you started to treat yourself with a little more kindness.

"i'm working katie, just leave me alone." and with that you ducked out back before the irishwoman could even say another word, stunned at the somewhat aggressive tone which still lingered in the air after your abrupt exit.

since the frosty encounter katie had tried to call and message you but with no response and left on read she'd taken the hint and had backed off.

she'd still been around with her team mates over the weekend for dinner in the restaurant but didn't dare come to order a drink at the bar since you were on shift.

most of the girls gave up questioning her about what had happened, noticing that something had shifted between the two of you, and with a stern warning from the irishwoman hadn't dared to ask you about it either.

but ever persistent and hating to see the obvious discontent hidden behind her friends eyes that the others missed, leah continued to press her for an answer.

"oh for fuck sakes cause she's got a boyfriend leah!" katie eventually snapped and gave in as the blonde had once more cornered her for an interrogation. "what! are you sure? since when?" leah frowned, crossing her arms over her chest and leaning against the wall.

"i dunno! i met him at that game she came to, he's not even a good lookin fella." katie huffed with a roll of her eyes, sitting down at her locker and beginning to take off her boots. "i thought that she seemed quite into you?" leah sat down beside her as katie sighed deeply.

"i don't know i thought she was. we'd been talking a lot, getting to know each other better, it was starting to feel like more but i guess not. ever since i met him she's been blankin me so i guess whatever it was with us is over now." katie shrugged it off, not wanting to dwell on the subject as she brushed leah off to go for a shower.

"and please don't tell anyone leah!"

and leah tried not to, she really did. but when beth continued to pester katie and she could see the annoyance building, she figured she would be doing the girl a favour by filling the girl in.

"wait that was her boyfriend? i was only joking about the date thing." beth frowned, both girls having filled the other in over a coffee. "did they seem like they were? katie said she's ghosted her ever since so i guess it makes sense?" leahs eyebrows knitted together in confusion.

little did they both know just how wrong they were.

"oh! thats him, thats the boyfriend." beths eyes widened as she gripped leahs bicep, yanking her around to look where she pointed, mathew hanging around chatting to a few of their team mates.

"wait him? i've met that guy a bunch times he's here almost every match." leah realised, beth tightening her grip on her and marching the two of them in the boys direction.

"no personal bartender with you today then?" beth plastered a smile on her face, not wanting to go in with all guns blazing and scare the poor guy off. "oh her? please it took me almost twenty two years to get that girl to come to one game!" the boy laughed and re-introduced himself at beths subtle request.

"twenty two years?" leah frowned a little at the timeline, trying to piece it together. "yeah we go way back, grew up together since we were kids. pretty sure our parents were convinced we were gonna get married someday!" he joked with a grin, beth and leah exchanging a look.

"were?"

"well yeah, when they realised i liked boys and she liked girls that put a bit of a pin in their plans." mathew chuckled, leahs face paling as beth bit her lip to hide a smile at their obvious blunder. "so you two aren't..." beth gestured as the boys eyes widened and he laughed harder.

"please! god no. why, are one of you interested?" he winked, well aware of their ongoing presence at your workplace.

"but no she's very much so single. i've begged her to let me get her back into the dating scene but she's hopelessly hung up on some girl she's been sleeping with for months now-" the boy rolled his eyes, and had you been present you'd have smacked the living daylights out of him for oversharing, his favorite habit.

"-but this girl only wants something casual where as she wants more. so i've tried to get her to cut it off but she's convinced it doesn't hurt to keep it going, which i know her like the back of my hand and believe me, it's hurting her." mathew sighed with a shake of his head, eyes widening when he realized who he was actually talking to.

"but i am very very certain that she would kill me for sharing all of that so please if you see her at the bar don't mention it. i'd quite like to live to see next week i have tickets to next weekends match." the boy joked, glancing over his shoulder as a few of his friends called out for him.

"well fantastic game girls it was lovely speaking to you both. thank you for your time and i am very sorry for filling it with my own voice." he winced apologetically, flashing them a dazzling smile before hurrying off after his friends.

"find katie?" "find katie."

you looked over your shoulder in surprise as there was a knock at your door, a quick tap of your phone screen showing it was nearly half seven at night, hardly a time for a door to door salesmen to be coming round, and most of your friends knew where your spare key was and never hesitated to let themselves in.

pausing the episode of love island you were catching up on as you cooked, you tucked your phone into the pocket of your hoodie and padded over to the door, cautiously opening it as another knock sounded.

"we need to talk."

you stepped back as katie shot past you, a blur of red having just come from a video study debrief for the teams upcoming match against chelsea.

she knew you didn't work sundays so took a shot in the dark that you'd be home, grateful it paid off as you closed your door. "please, come in!" you scoffed at her abruptness, following after her into the kitchen.

"i'm not sleeping with you." you started firmly, crossing your arms over your chest as katie now scoffed, taking a seat at the kitchen bench. "when i said we needed to talk, i meant with our mouths and not with our tongues." the irishwoman quipped back causing a slight blush to creep over your cheeks.

"what's there to talk about katie?" you withheld a groan at the intrusion, ignoring her patting the seat beside her for you to sit down as if she was in her own home, instead you chose to stay standing a few feet away from her.

"why you're actin funny with me." the brunette folded her arms sternly and raised an eyebrow, now thanks to her faithful blonde friends she knew you didn't have a boyfriend she wanted answers as to why you'd been ignoring her.

"i've just been busy." you lied, turning your back to her and busying yourself resuming the chopping and prepping for your dinner, hoping with some minimal responses the brunette would grow tired and hopefully leave.

"bullshit, ya never ignore me entirely." katie held firm, and you could feel her eyes bore into the back of your head like lasers. "why do you even care? its not like we're dating or you can't get your needs met elsewhere." you added the last part a little bitterly, a pause of silence falling between the two of you.

"and what's that supposed to mean then?" katie scoffed, raising an eyebrow at the obvious change of tone. "you know what it means i'm not spelling it out for you." you shook your head, the only sound being your knife hitting the board as you chopped up the peppers.

"jesus would you stop that and actually talk to me?" katie snapped, standing to her feet with a frustrated huff. "okay. you want to do this? fine, lets do this." you also snapped, dropping the knife and spinning around to face the older girl.

"i thought that whatever we were doing was completely casual, a friends with benefits situation and i was fine with that." you started, crossing your arms over your chest. "but then you made it complicated." you accused, pointing at her as she made a face of both confusion and offence.

"i made it complicated? till yesterday i thought ya had a boyfriend you were using me to cheat on with!" katie defended making you now pull a face. "what on earth gave you that impression?" you asked, face scrunched up in both disgust and confusion at the mere thought.

"your boy mathew or whatever his name was!" katie rolled her eyes and you paused for a minute before letting out a loud sarcastic bark of laughter. "my best friend? jesus no he's not my boyfriend katie i'm a lesbian for god sakes!" you corrected now with a roll of your own eyes.

"and like you're one to talk about loyalty anyway. asking me to 'hang out' right after you're on a date with another girl and at my job of all places, you don't want to be used to cheat with? i don't like being a backup option when your first one isn't interested in rounding the bases with you." you spat, katie scoffing at the accusation.

"a date? when the hell did i go on a date? you're deluded!" she waved you off with a shake of her head, accent only getting thicker the more upset she became, still not understanding why everything had changed.

"don't you gaslight me! the blonde you took to dinner the other night, you two certainly seemed cosy." your nostrils flared angrily as you held your ground, not allowing what you'd seen to be dismissed. "the blonde what-" katie grimaced trying to think back, but then it clicked.

and she did quite possibly the worst thing she could have within that moment, grabbing her stomach and doubling over in laughter, which you assumed was at you.

"okay you know what? this conversation is over. get the hell out!" you ordered angrily, clearing the distance between the two of you in a few steps and shoving at her as the brunette barely stumbled backwards, still trying to catch her breath.

"you're quite gorgeous when you're jealous ya know." the irishwoman smirked cockily and your cheeks flushed red at the sudden shift in tone. "i repeat, get. out." you recovered quickly, pointing toward the front door as katies smirk only widened, advancing slowly toward you.

"katie-" you started to warn, backing up until you smacked into the counter, the brunette pressing her body against yours, hands flushed flat on the marble counter as she smiled smugly down at you. "say that again then, tell me to leave and i will."

you tried to tell her to get out, you really did, but as she lent down and brought her face closer to yours you were consumed by the alluringly comforting smell of her perfume, knees wobbly at her pearly white smile and the cheeky twinkle of her blue eyes.

but as your stomach fluttered and your heart leapt into your throat, you remembered that to her this was all just a game, it would never be anything more than this and for your own peace and protection, you couldn't give in.

"get out, please." you dropped your gaze right before her lips could touch softly to your own, gently pushing her off and quickly rounding the counter, trying to put as much distance between the two of you as you could.

"that wasn't a date ya know." you refused to turn around at her words, instead grabbing your knife again and resuming the chopping of your vegetables. "hey would you stop that, please." you hadn't heard her make your way over to you, her hand grabbing yours as you dropped the knife with a sigh.

"five minutes. just give me that to hear me out and then if you still want me to go i'm gone and ya won't hear from me again." she requested softly, you hesitated but after a quick glance at her pleading face you gave in with a sigh.

keeping a firm grip on your hand the irishwoman lead you over to the sofa, gently sitting you down before she took her own seat at the opposite end, purposefully giving you some space.

"that wasn't a date. that blonde lass you saw me with last week was one of my sisters, she came and stayed with me for a few days to see the game and catch up while she's on break from uni." katie started to explain as you felt your cheeks burn bright red in embarrassment, burying your face in your hands with a gentle groan.

"stop that, listen." katie lent forward, tugging your hands away and nudging you to sit up before she settled back and continued. "and the whole reason that i brought her to your work was so she could see ya, cause i might have talked her ear off about you." katies own cheeks now flushed a rosy pink as you frowned slightly.

"because if you'd have spoke with me that night, i was going to ask you on a date." katie revealed nervously, fidgeting a little in her spot. "you were?" was all you could manage to get out, positively overwhelmed at the thought.

"well actually i was going to ask for some clarification around the boyfriend thing, but then if we worked that out yeah i wanted to ask ya on a date." katie smiled awkwardly, rubbing her hands nervously on her thighs.

"but i don't-i thought you wanted things to be casual." you stammered out. "i thought you wanted things to be casual, i'd have asked you out after we first slept together until you brought up it being a one time thing." katie admitted as your eyes widened further.

"which is why i made sure i always left right after, didn't get to know ya, kept it casual. cause i guess you're alright in bed!" the girl teased cheekily, softening the somewhat awkward tension a little which you were grateful for.

"but then i couldn't help myself. i really wanted to get to know you more so i started hanging around a little, asking some stuff, testing the waters. then when you didn't immediately kick me out i thought maybe you might be into us being not so casual." katie admitted, the shy and nervous side of her she was revealing now not anything you'd ever seen from the brunette before.

"then mathew came into the picture and it threw me off!" katie rolled her eyes, a small smile curling into your lips as the puzzle pieces started to align in your head.

"so i guess that kind of brings us to now, and was really all i wanted to say." katie looked to you somewhat hopefully, awaiting to see what you would say next in return.

"i only said we should keep things casual after we slept together because i thought that's what you wanted, and i was fine with it too for awhile. but then you started to hang around and ask questions and seem interested, and then you slept over!" you paused for a moment to collect your thoughts as katie watched on, intently listening.

"well you made it complicated like i said and then i started to indulge myself into the delusions of what things would be like if we were something more. but i never thought you felt the same way and then you asked me to come to your game but you were being weird and quiet the whole time. then you came in with what i assumed was a date that really hit home for me that all we would ever be was casual." you revealed with a small wince at the obvious misunderstandings from the both of you.

"and i don't want that. my friends are all off having kids or getting engaged and i want something more than just casual sex, i want to mean something to someone which is why i brushed you off and sort of ghosted you i guess." you laid your own feelings down on the line somewhat hesitantly, scared for what it meant but unable to continue holding them back anymore.

"so you're telling me, that we could have been something more for the last few months if we just...talked about it." katie cracked a small smile which you returned with a slow nod, the two of you sharing a look before breaking out into a bout of soft laughter.

"jesus christ what a mess." katie sunk into the sofa with another laugh, dragging her hands down her face in disbelief. "do you want to stay for dinner?" you asked with a soft smile, head flopping against the back of the couch as you stared at the irishwoman a few feet away who perked up at the offer.

"i'd love to."

"no you chose last night! give it to me katie, now." you ordered with a huff, struggling to stay balanced as you straddled your girlfriends leg, craning for the remote which the taller girl held just out of your reach.

"i don't want to watch that reality crap you'll put on, can't we at least watch a movie?" katie held firm, pushing you away with her spare hand as you continued to fight her for the remote.

"no! you said that last night and then you fell asleep about ten minutes in." you rolled your eyes at the memory, squealing as a pair of strong arms wrapped around your waist, quickly pushing you down onto the lounge as she now sat on top of you.

"well here i am wide awake baby girl, so how about we ditch the tv all together and go to bed?" the footballer smiled suggestively, still holding the remote out of your reach. "sure." you smirked, grabbing her collar and pulling her down into a kiss.

"after we watch love island." you snatched the remote from her, taking advantage of her moment of weakness as you pushed her off of you, hastily sitting up and getting comfortable again as you navigated through to find the latest episode.

"are you serious? you would rather watch that crap than have sex with me right now?" katies chest heaved a little at the sudden passionate kiss which was rudely stolen from her, propping her body up on her elbows.

"i can get you in my bed any night of the week you're quite easy, love island is only on wednesdays." you grinned cheekily, clicking into the episode and patting the space beside you. "easy she says!" katie scoffed in disbelief, sitting upright but staying on the other side of the sofa, arms crossed with a frown embedded into her eyebrows.

with a roll of your eyes at her dramatics you shuffled down the lounge, forcefully uncrossing her arms and maneuvering your body to settle half on top of her, back wedged against the arm of the sofa while your legs draped across her lap, shaking out a blanket and settling it over the two of you.

"relax the face baby, at your age you'll get wrinkles." you teasingly rubbed your thumbs against her forehead as she scoffed. "my age! i'm only two years older than ya!" the bruntte shook her head, offence written all over her face as you grinned at how easy she was to wind up.

"you know i've always been into older women." you wiggled your eyebrows as the girls large hand came to cover your face, shoving your head away playfully. "shut up and watch your shit show."

though of course after ten minutes katie was fully invested, asking you all sorts of questions as you'd settled into her arms, her hands sliding under your top and resting on your stomach.

both of you content in the little bubble of domestic bliss you'd created, wrapped around one anothers fingers tightly and very much so smitten, not a single casual thing about any of it.

#woso x reader #woso #katie mccabe x reader #katie mccabe #woso fanfics #woso imagine #engwnt #alessia russo #woso blurbs #awfc x reader #arsenal women

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scoops-stevie-archive · 1 year

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@outpastthebrakers posted a thing about hospital security guard eddie and er nurse steve and @zerokrox-blog sent in a prompt for a steddie med school au, but despite working in a hospital, i don't know anything about med school other than it's 4 years of schooling and 4 years of residency, so i couldn't deliver on that part unfortunately. but i hope yall enjoy regardless!

"Are you gonna actually do something tonight, or are you just gonna sit there and look handsome like always?"

Steve pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose as he looks up from the computer and rolls his eyes.

"I could ask you the same thing, you know," he says, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. "This is the third time you've been down here in the last," Steve checks his watch, "hour. Don't you have a parking lot to patrol or something?"

Eddie only laughs and hooks his thumbs into his belt loops. "Bold of you to assume they let me drive the car, big boy. Nah, Preston drives and I get to be the passenger princess I was born to be."

Steve snorts. He definitely doesn't pay attention to the looks the other nurses are giving them.

"Besides," Eddie continues. He leans his elbows on the counter of the nurse's station. "It's your fault I'm down here so often in the first place."

"Oh really?" Steve raises an eyebrow and doesn't hide the fact that he's checking out the tattoos on Eddie's forearms that are showcased by the short sleeves of his uniform shirt framing his biceps. Hospital uniform policy says minimal jewelry but Eddie's never been one for conformity so his fingers are adorned with rings of different size.

(Hospital policy also says that security staff are, under no circumstances, to physically harm violent patients or visitors, but that policy doesn't say anything about Eddie threatening to dole out a knuckle sandwich or two.)

Eddie tracks Steve's gaze and smirks. He taps his fingers on the counter in a rolling rhythm, his black nail polish accenting the flashiness of his rings.

Eddie leans in a little more (which isn't necessary because the counter is a foot above the desk Steve is sitting at) and almost purrs, public decency be damned, "Because, princess, if it weren't for you, I'd be stuck up in my office doing something boring, like reading." He places a hand on his chest. "As much as I love my dragon hoard of books, seeing your pretty face for twelve hours is a much better option."

Steve blushes and tries to sputter out a response, but the radio clipped to Eddie's shoulder goes off.

Eddie confirms the call and groans, dropping his head.

The moment is all Steve needs to compose himself. "Oh no," he frowns, insincere but his tone teasing. "You have to actually do your job. How awful."

Eddie mouths wordlessly back at him, mocking, but then grins and raps his knuckles on the counter once more, giving him a wink. "Don't miss me too much, sweetheart."

Steve tries to not watch as Eddie walks down the hallway, but god those pants fit him so well. He's always had a thing for tiny, perky asses.

"Steve."

Steve jumps and does not yelp like a child. He turns to see his colleague Jen. Jen's been working in the ER for a few years and is a spitfire with a heart of gold.

"You've been flirting with him for months and neither of you have made a real move on each other. What the hell? The betting pool Trent and Brett have is getting shallow."

The tips of Steve's ears start to burn. "Betting pool?!" He turns his chair around to the guys mentioned and they're very much making an effort not to look at him. "You guys are betting on us hooking up? How old are you, twelve?"

"Stevie," Jen sighs in a dramatic way that reminds Steve of Robin and it makes his heart clench. "You have turned down every single person in the vicinity since you started. Eddie is obviously into you and you're into him. I'm going to say this as nicely as I can because you're my favorite out of all the graduates: Please jump this man's bones so I can get my $50."

"My love life is only worth $50 to you?"

"Steve."

Steve groans and hits his head on the desk.

xxxxxxxx

Eddie outright moans when 7am rolls around and he's finally able to take off his uniform. He shoves the bulletproof vest and his holster belt into his locker and his shirt and pants into his dufflebag to be washed later.

God, he doesn't even want to think about laundry.

After he got the call that pulled him away from Steve, it was like the floodgates opened. Two code violets, one report of a car circling the ASU parking lot suspiciously, and three code browns that ended up being patients sneaking outside for a smoke.

He didn't blame them. With the night he had, he's regretting his decision to quit.

Eddie walks through the automatic doors at the entrance of the hospital after he's changed back into his civvies, and those regrets immediately disappear and his mood brightens when he sees who's waiting for him.

Wayne's van is parked in the drop off zone and the sliding door is opened. A bright grin stretches across Eddie's tired face as he gets closer to his little girl, happily squirming in her car seat and drinking juice out of her bottle.

"Da-dee!"

Eddie lets his bag slide off his shoulder and onto the ground but Wayne picks it up and puts it next to Emma's diaper bag.

"Hi, baby!" Eddie coos as he unbuckles her. "Good morning!" He kisses her cheek and buries his nose in her hair, a chesnut brown like her dad's, and cuddles her close. "I missed you so much. Did you have fun with papaw last night?"

"She fussed a little after you left but I got her settled," Wayne says. He holds up a McDonald's bag. "Decided she was gonna get an early start this morning so I figured yall could use some breakfast."

Eddie's stomach chooses the right time to growl and his mouth waters. Last he ate was a TV dinner around one in the morning. Eddie tells Wayne to pick a spot in the visitor's parking lot and then takes Emma back inside the hospital with him.

He doesn't see Steve when he gets to the ER.

"Hey, Steve hasn't left yet, has he?"

A nurse, Jen, Eddie thinks her name is, looks at him and immediately starts cooing at the (admittedly adorable) baby in his arms that's looking around with curious eyes and drinking her juice.

"Steve's in the locker room getting changed, he's just about to clock out. Who is this little cutie?"

Eddie grins and bounces Emma lightly. "This is Emma, my little monster. She gets all her cuteness from her other dad."

Jen's face falls for a second but before Eddie can ask what's wrong, Emma squeals way too loudly for a hospital at 7:30 in the morning and almost throws her bottle in her excitement.

"Da! Da!"

Steve looks just about as tired as Eddie feels and he can practically hear their bed calling their names. But Steve's eyes light up when he hears who's calling for him and a sort of puppy-like grin takes over his face, dopey and happy.

Emma is already reaching for him and Steve quickly strides over and takes her in his arms.

"Good morning, lovebug," Steve says, enveloping her in the gentlest hug he can muster. He breathes in her natural baby smell and closes his eyes.

Eddie's hand goes to his waist to keep him awake and Steve hums, opening his eyes and leaning into give Eddie a peck on the cheek.

"Morning, baby," he murmurs, all traces of teasing and flirting from the night before gone and replaced with open affection.

Steve doesn’t need to look at Jen to know her jaw is probably on the floor.

Eddie returns the kiss on Steve's lips. "Morning, sweetheart. Wayne’s waiting with breakfast outside. Seems like little miss princess here decided she was gonna wake up early, early today." He tickles Emma's tummy as he says this, causing her to laugh around her binky and try to push his fingers away.

"Food sounds so good right now," Steve practically whines.

Jen is still staring between the three of them. Steve smiles sheepishly.

"Sorry you didn't win your money. I should’ve told you, Eddie and I have been together for years. Emma's our daughter." He shifts Emma in his arms and gives everyone a wave. "I'll see you guys later."

He and Eddie walk out of the hospital hand in hand. They eat their breakfast in the parking lot and Wayne follows them to their house to stay up with Emma while Steve and Eddie get some much needed sleep.

When they go back into work later that evening, they fess up to everyone and Eddie gives Jen $50 right from his own wallet.

#steddie #steddie ficlet #steddie dads #cj talks #cj writes

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cobaltperun · 30 days

Text

Eternal Flame (4) - What If

cover by: @ortegalvr

Jenna Ortega x Female Reader

Summary: For her it’s a passion, for you it’s an accident. And as she continues shining brighter and brighter with each role you are left mesmerized, drawn to her flame and cherishing every time she lets herself be vulnerable with you.

Masterlist / First Part / Previous part / Next part

Word count: 2.4k

-What if I can't go on without you-

The filming was coming to a close, the two months you spent in North Carolina were the most impactful two months in your acting career. How much you learnt, how much you experienced, it all felt surreal. More importantly, you felt lucky you got to work with so many amazing people. You ended up coming to the rooftop to watch the sunset on the last weekend of the filming, just soaking it all in. There wasn’t much left to do. Jenna just finished her opening scene two days ago, so for both of you the only thing left to do was to film the replacement scene for the kiss. There were some other scenes left, but it was mostly over. Hell, some of the cast already packed and left.

“Hey there stranger,” you heard Mikey saying as she walked up to you.

You grinned, patting the spot next to you. “Stranger? Already?” you laughed and leaned back as she sat down on the still warm concrete rooftop.

She rolled her eyes. “Can’t say you made a strong impression,” she teased you, though you spent several weekends cooking together. Funny how your characters hated one another yet the two of you kind of clicked.

You smirked at that. “Well, not all of us can crash a bicycle,” you joked now, but the entire cast was worried when her and Jasmin crashed. Mikey took the fall harder, as her knee still ached occasionally, but she was fine.

She jokingly slapped your shoulder. “Jerk,” she looked back when the doors opened. “Hey, Jenna!”

“Oh, hey,” Jenna sounded genuinely surprised as she slowly approached you and Mikey. The headphones hung around her neck, something you noticed early into your friendship.

“Really, I’m the stranger?” you kept your attention on Mikey as she snickered.

This was going to hurt, more than anything. There was no guarantee you’d be making the sequel, and you didn’t want to hope you’d get another chance to work with Jenna. You hated that uncertainty, hated the thought of separating from the girl that became an everyday presence in your life. Saying you’d miss her would be an understatement, and you’ve never been the best at handling that kind of emotion. So, you kind of began messing up, instead of using what time you still had you almost distanced yourself from her, fearing it would make the separation even harder to take.

Mikey elbowed your side and coughed, not even trying to be subtle as she motioned toward Jenna. And you looked at her, at the mostly concealed frown on her face, you could see the question in her eyes, the unspoken ‘Am I interrupting you?’ and you felt something squeezing your heart. You moved to the side and offered your hand to Jenna. “Wanna join us?” she looked at you hand and just shook her head.

“No, I’ll head back inside,” she said and turned around to leave.

“Jen, wait,” you moved instinctively, jumping to your feet and following after her. Damn, the girl was fast. “Hey, what’s wrong?” you asked gently as you caught up to her just as she got back inside the building.

“Nothing, I thought we could go over our last scene, but it’s fine,” she said with a hint of bitterness in her voice.

You paused, you went over the scene, several times in fact. It felt more like an excuse. And the way she said that word, last, the weight behind it. It hit you like a truck that you weren’t the only one concerned about the future, yet the words you should have told her remained stuck in your throat. So, you just watched her walk away the doors behind you closed almost silently but it felt like they were slammed shut as Mikey came up to you.

“Trouble in paradise, stranger?” she teased you and you turned to look at her.

“What?” you asked, confused. Were you missing something?

“Come on, you and Jenna became almost inseparable and suddenly you distance yourself? She’s been worried that she did something wrong,” she told you, making you slap your forehead.

“Fuck!” you cursed, going after Jenna once more as Mikey sighed behind you. You got to Jenna’s door and knocked several times. “Jenna? Please open the door, I need to tell you something,” you said, but there was no response. You leaned your forehead against the door, not even noticing that someone was approaching you.

“Y/N? Jenna just went out for a walk,” Melissa’s voice made you jump away from the door and you would deny it until your dying breath, but you may or may not have let out an embarrassingly high-pitched yelp.

“You want to kill me?!” you cried out, looking at the slightly older actress.

Melissa raised an eyebrow. “Come on, scaredy cat, it wasn’t that bad.”

Why was everyone teasing you today? You scoffed and glanced back at Jenna’s door. She had a habit of taking rather long walks. Chances are you weren’t going to get the chance to talk to her tonight.

~X~

You guessed it right, you didn’t get the chance to talk to Jenna last night. She came back, but you were held up by a Zoom meeting for a new short series you were trying to audition for, and this morning you were already on the set before you could even get five minutes with Jenna.

You heard the signal to start the scene. This was the last scene you and Jenna had together. The last scene you or her had in general, and it was the hug, right after Tara shoots Amber. She stumbled into your arms and you caught her, hugging her with desperation and relief your character was meant to feel because they both made it through, they both survived.

Jenna buried her face in the crook of your neck, originally she was supposed to rest her head against your chest, but this felt more intimate, like a middle ground, and you leaned down, pulling her closer before eventually lifting her up effortlessly and stepping outside of the house and finishing your last scene.

The filming crew around you cheered as the filming stopped and Jenna buried her face in her hands for a moment before cheering as well, the happiness on her face was more than noticeable and you found yourself laughing as well as people began congratulating the two of you. From the looks of it everyone was happy to be close to finishing the movie. Not because they couldn’t wait to be done with it, but because they all felt like they did a good job and were excited about it.

Eventually Jenna and you hugged as well and you lifted her up, grinning as she laughed in your ear. “I really wanna talk to you. You got a bit of time?” you asked, whispering the words just for her to hear. You’ve spent quite a bit of time trying to figure out how to approach this, but you figured being direct might as well be the best option.

Jenna looked you in the eyes and nodded. “Of course,” you lowered her back down and she smiled, that warmth in her gaze you got so used to relaxed you, told you you didn’t mess up too badly. “Do you want to talk while I pack?” she suggested.

“Mhm, just let me freshen up a bit and I’ll meet you in your room,” you told her as you reluctantly separated.

~X~

Well, you had a simple plan, go to Jenna’s room with the small chocolate cake you made and apologize and explain yourself. Easier said than done as you paced around the room, collecting your thoughts. You really should just admit to yourself that you had separation anxiety which really didn’t work with the job you chose for yourself.

You sat down, glancing at the mirror, you were wearing simple, comfortable clothes, a plain T-shirt and jeans and you did freshen up, so you might as well just get up, grab the cake and go, because the last thing you wanted to do was to make Jenna overthink now. You sighed and pulled yourself together, carefully picked up the cake and put your phone in your pocket before changing your mind and leaving it behind. If anyone wanted to reach you they could do so after you talked to Jenna.

~X~

Jenna chewed on her bottom lip as she folded a shirt and placed it in her suitcase. She’s been overthinking everything, to the point of actually getting random pangs of jealousy when she saw you with someone. The latest being when she saw you with Mikey on the rooftop, even though there was absolutely nothing going on between you and Mikey. She just couldn’t find the explanation for your sudden shift in behavior and her brain was coming up with hundreds of scenarios, some of which didn’t make any sense.

The biggest question that persistently remained came down to wondering what she messed up. If she said something or did something that made you uncomfortable. Melissa, the amazing, wonderful incredibly supportive sweetest human being that she was, told her it would be fine, that she didn’t do anything and that maybe you just struggled with wrapping up movies.

But you weren’t distancing yourself from others! Just from her, and that made her doubt Melissa’s words.

It wasn’t even about the tiny crush she still had on you. It was about fearing that she was losing a friend out of nowhere. For no clear reason, or a way to fix it coming to her mind.

A knock on her door made her heart skip a beat. She swallowed, hard, and left the shirt on the bed to open the door for you.

~X~

Waiting for Jenna to open the door was well-deserved, considering what you did. Hell, you probably deserved to wait a hell of a lot longer than it took her to open the door. “Hey,” you said as she stood in the doorway, her eyes glued to the chocolate cake and a single red rose you were holding. “I’m sorry, Jenna, I was an asshole,” you said, and her eyes finally met yours.

“No, Y/N, you,” you noticed her lower lip was a bit swollen. “Come in?” she offered and you nodded, feeling the tension as you handed her the cake and the rose.

“Thanks,” you spent enough time in her room, mostly chatting or watching movies, or just listening to music cause Jenna had amazing taste in, as far as you could tell, everything. So, you went to the fridge and opened the freezer part of it. You grabbed a handkerchief from Jenna’s drawer and wrapped the ice with it as she sat down on her bed. You joined her and raised the handkerchief to her lips. “It’ll get swollen. I’ve had a few practice fights when I was younger, I kinda know from experience,” you chuckled, the tension slowly dissipating as Jenna allowed you to apply ice to her lower lip.

Your eyes met a few times, but neither of you said a word until a few drops of water began sliding down your hand and forearm.

“Jen-“

“Y/N-“

Somehow you both began at the same time, causing you both to laugh, though Jenna’s laugh progressively got quieter as you got to know one another and got comfortable. And it wasn’t that she wasn’t laughing, it was more like she was no longer forcing the sounds to come out of her mouth as she laughed, well, at least not as much as she did at first.

“You want to go first?” you offered as you both calmed down and she gave it a thought, until eventually shaking her head slightly.

“You start,” you could see a bit of uncertainty in her eyes, feel it in the way her lip trembled slightly, hear it in her voice, and you chose not to comment on it.

You took a deep breath. “I’ve always had trouble with saying goodbye to people I grow really close to. I should use the time left in other ways, make more memories, something like that, but I just feel like that might make it hurt more,” you weren’t even entirely sure where you were going with this, you were mostly just saying word after word hoping it would make sense in the end.

“Melissa thought it was something like that,” Jenna nodded, gently pushing your hand away from her lips so she could properly talk to you.

You were relieved Jenna ended up talking to someone. “It’s stupid, instead of talking to you, telling you how much this friendship means to me, I went and got distant. You didn’t do anything, I just have separation anxiety,” there you admitted it, to yourself, to Jenna. It made you feel better, that you recognized it.

Jenna nodded, but didn’t say anything, you could see in her eyes that there was something she wasn’t telling you, but that she simply didn’t know how to. She even looked down before getting up to cut the cake, to stay busy, to stay active. By now you figured Jenna wasn’t used to being vulnerable, in any way, with anyone.

So, you said the last thing she needed to hear just when she cut the small cake in two and placed it on plates. “I want to keep seeing you, spend time together, meet up,” you said and she turned back to look at you, wide eyed, surprised.

You saw her swallowing the lump in her throat right before she rushed toward you and hugged you just as you got up. You relaxed into the hug, immediately hugging her back, and you knew how much you were going to miss this when you go your separate ways, even if you will stay in touch. “I, I’m going to spend two weeks back home, with my family. Would you like to come and visit me?” she asked, the last few words barely above a whisper as you felt her hands gripping the back of your shirt.

“Of course,” you assured her, and at the same time, the relief you felt knowing the desire to stay in touch was mutual washed over you.

A/N: Damn, do I hate how short these chapters are… Anyway, Scream 5 done. Tell me what you think, it fuels my writing, even if it is short at the moment. 🤣🤣 Also, I swear, the tonal shift was not intentional 🤣🤣

Taglist: @lilbitdepressed27 @freakshow2501 @osnapitzmel1 @belatrixdragon @ijustlovemaths @niqmandu

#jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x female reader #x reader #x female reader

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ilwonuu · 7 months

Note

Hi. Can I please request a jeno and noona/older woman - wherein he surprises her how good he is in bed. Overstimulation/dom jeno is hot too. 😊

um YES. this man is ROTTING MY BRAIN SO BAD. I LOVE THIS IDEA SO MUCH!!! thank you for ur request!!!! i hope you enjoy😇😇

ˑ 𖥻 ִ ۫ ּshow me. l.jeno

summary- the boy you’ve been seeing surprises you with a couple things when you come over to his house for the first time.

warnings- kinda quick paced (as always), unprotected sex, creampie(duh), overstimulation, fingering, mirror sex, multiple orgasms, kissing, dom!jeno sub!reader, dirty talk (mostly jeno), pet names (baby, pretty, love) jeno is called baby , cum eating, lmk if i missed something

authors note- sorry if the age gap wasnt what you wanted i kinda just did something random so lmk if you want me to change it anon!! 💖happy hoeing (i need him)

you and jeno have been dating for a few months now. you meeting him through one of your mutual work friends. he was a little bit younger than you. your friend mark always joking about you being a cougar.

jeno was being 22 and you being 29… you don’t mind jenos age because he has always acted mature. he was a responsible man for his age. you really liked him. he had invited you over to sleep at his house since you both are free from work that day.

you have never been to jeno’s apartment. you two always agreeing to spend time at your house. you were excited to see his house for the first time. getting ready to go excitedly.

you quickly make your way over to the address he gave you after getting ready. making your way to his apartment door knocking slightly. he opens his door shortly smiling as soon as he saw you. “hi beautiful.” he says pulling you into his apartment. “hi baby.” you smile at him as you look around at his space.

“damn! it’s nice in here.” you laugh slightly feeling him pull you close to him. “thank you love.” he smiles at you before grabbing your jacket and bag from you. “i cleaned before you got here. i was making sure it was perfect for you.” he sets your things down pulling you towards his room. “okay this is my room. you want to watch something?” he sits down on his bed, you slowly joining him after. “yea baby we can watch something.” he pulls you closer to cuddle into him. “or we could do something else.” he says with a innocent face. “and what is that?” he face shifted into a smirk so quickly.

“i can make you feel good.” he pulls your legs over his lap. “oh really?” he nods quickly. “if you’d let me.” he smiles at you. “yea…show me.” he kisses your lips quickly pulling your pants down. he runs his fingers over your clothed pussy slowly. he grabs you to shift you both so you are now facing the mirror on the wall from the bed.

“gonna watch me finger this sweet pussy okay?” he pulls you into a rough kiss. “yes-“ you nod quickly at him through the mirror. he rips your panties off ,you never breaking eye contact with him in the mirror. “look at you baby. responding so well?” he smirks at you and your sub state.

you don’t understand how he got you to submit to him so quickly. you’re used to being in control during sex but seeing jeno like this was so-

he interrupts your thoughts as he slides two fingers inside of you. “so fucking wet hm? listen to that. my fingers are sliding right fucking in.” he laughs at you playfully. moving your head so you can see his movements in the mirror better.

“look at you squirming under my touch.” he fucks his fingers deeper into you. watching you in the mirror. “fucking look at me y/n.” he moves your head again so you making eye contact with him in the mirror. “jen- fuck fuck.” he curls his fingers slowly adding another as soon as you try to talk.

“yea? what’s wrong?” he asks mockingly. him not breaking eye contact with you. “feels so f-fucking good.” you manage you moan out.

“yea? you gonna cum pretty?” his thumb immediately going to your clit after his words. “jeno- oh fuck im gonna cum.” you start to wiggle out of his arms. he holds you tightly in place moving his fingers faster. “look at you. you are so fucking gorgeous.” he whispers into your ear. he keeps fucking you with his fingers.

you see stars cumming hard onto his fingers. “yea baby. you are so fucking sexy.” he milks your cum out of your pussy slowly. “you see yourself? so dirty for me.” he smirks at you through the mirror.

“jeno- oh my god.” you gasp feeling his fingers start to fuck into you again. “you can cum again right? let me fuck you with my fingers again before i fuck you on my cock huh?” he looks at you for a response.

you are unable to form a sentence with the pace of this finger. “jen- fuck.” is all you manage to get it out. you moaning at his sweaty body. you’re watching his focused expression on you in the mirror. “you gonna cum already? you’re clenching so tight on my fingers.” he says into your neck while watching your legs try to shut to fight the pleasure.

“keep your legs fucking open.” he grabs your thighs with his other hand forcing your legs open. allowing his fingers to go deeper. “fucking creaming all over. fucking filthy.” he spits at you. you’re moaning uncontrollably at this point. he looks so sexy through your hazy eyes. he hasn’t taken his eyes off you once.

“jeno im c-cumming!” you legs shaking under his grip. “cum for me pretty.” you’re cumming all over his fingers. he murmurs into your neck kissing it softly as his fucks you through your high on his fingers. he watches you with sweetly.

he slowly pulls his fingers out of your cunt. bringing them up to your lips. “suck baby.” he orders you with a stern voice. you open your mouth for his fingers feeling them slowly being pushed into your mouth. “good hm? taste so good always.”

you are shocked at jeno’s behavior. not seeing this side of him until recently. you liked it a lot. maybe too much because you’re already begging jeno to fuck you already. “fuck me please jeno.” you squirm in his arms causing him to laugh at your pathetic state.

“okay. ill give you what you want since you did so well.” his breath against your skin making you shiver. he lifts you up easily turning you over onto your knees. “you’re so wet my love.” he leans into your ear. “keep these legs open okay?” he demands. you nod quickly.

you hear him shifting behind you. he takes off his shirt quickly. pulling off his pants and boxers immediately after. “condom or?” you shake your head no. “please no condom just fuck me jeno please!“ he smirks at you. he rubs his dick gently over your folds teasingly. “so fucking wet hm pretty?” he slides his tip in just to immediately take it out. “f-fuck jeno.” you hear a deep groan come from him as he shifts again behind you causing you to look behind you confused. “just let me have a little taste.” his head moving in between your legs. you feel him lick a thick stripe up your slit. you push your ass back into his tongue.

he sucks on your clit roughly. then he suddenly pulls away. “i need to be inside you right now fuck.” he moves back up to line his dick up with your pussy. he pushes his dick in quickly. immediately fucking you into the mattress. “so fucking t-tight.” his hips already speeding up. “je-jeno fuck.” you feel him grab your hair pulling you back against his chest. him now fucking you at a deeper angle. “so fucking good.” you moan out. “yea baby? haven’t been fucked this good before?” he suddenly remembers the mirror turning you to look at yourself in the mirror.

“look at this. my dirty girl.” you try to keep your eyes open. “gonna cum inside this perfect cunt hm?” he grips your hip tightly watching you closely in the mirror. “jen-i can’t too much-“ you say through tears. jeno is fucking you so good you are sobbing at this point. “i know you can take it.” he smiles at you innocently. you moan in response. “you are so fucking sexy im gonna cum.” he moans into your neck.

“im cumming jeno!” you see his pleasured face causing you to immediately cum. “f-fuckk baby.” you watch him fuck his cum into you slowly. your cum mixing with his inside you. it slowly oozing out of your pussy when he pulls out. your knees finally giving up on you. “oh my god.” you breathe out looking back at your boyfriend. “you okay?” he laughs quietly. you nod in response. “i haven’t came that hard before.” you laugh closing your legs. “yea? im glad it was good baby.” he smiles at you.

“give me a kiss.” he lays next to you suddenly giving you a quick kiss. “you have any more surprises?” he nods his head. “what really jeno?” you chuckle at his expression. “we’re gonna go to dinner so get ready!” he says slightly shouting it. “if i can walk.” you add. “ill help you baby.” he smiles kissing your head before getting up with you to get ready for the sudden dinner.

#nct #nct x reader #nct jeno #nct fluff #nct imagines #nct dream #nct smut #nct u #nct scenarios #jeno #lee jeno #jeno x reader #jeno smut #jeno fluff #jeno imagines

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sunflowersandsapphires · 2 months

Text

You're my sweetheart

Of Oak and Ivy, Chapter 8

Series Masterlist Next Chapter

pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!reader

summary: Cute little birthday celebration for everyone's favorite guy!

warnings: swearing, sad Matt (as always) but he gets loved on I promise, underage drinking, fluff, Foggy and Bug being adorable friends

a/n: This chapter is sickly sweet so be prepared. I have some super angsty stuff coming though. I hope you all enjoy this chapter! Please feel free to reply/reblog/DM, I love feedback!!

w/c: 5.6k

Waking up to a ripple of pain throughout your head and an accompanying twist of nausea in your gut was unpleasant, to say the least. Groaning, you threw an arm over your aching head to block out the sliver of sunlight that had penetrated your thick blinds. As much as you would have welcomed more sleep, the persistent stabbing pain of your hangover was determined to keep you conscious.

Sitting up with a whine, you dug the heel of your hand into your brow, your other hand laying over your uneasy stomach. While last night had been overwhelmingly fun, you’d apparently gone a bit past your limits. You and Oscar had colluded for weeks to plan Jen’s 21st birthday party. You were in charge of food and decorations, Oscar–given that he was of the legal age–had been in charge of purchasing the alcohol. In typical Oscar fashion, he’d gone above and beyond, completely blowing your expectations out of the water.

After a grueling first semester and a chaotic winter break, you hadn’t really tried to be careful. Past-you had been totally fine overdoing it. Current-you was much less ok with that decision. As memories of the night wriggled their way out the sludge that surrounded your brain, your chest constricted with concern. If you weren’t doing well, it was unlikely Matt or Foggy were upright and jovial. Plus, there was a certain matter you needed to discuss.

The conversation was hazy, blurred by the alcohol lingering in your system, but you remembered the important things. As usual, you’d been pretty much glued to Foggy and Matt all night--maybe even more so since Evs wasn't there to put distance between everyone and your awkward, giggly self.

You didn't remember how it came up, but the three of you had started discussing birthdays. Foggy had lamented, saying his wasn't until July, but Matt had gone quiet. After a bit of prompting and a few more drinks, he'd quietly admitted that his birthday was months ago, in October. You and Foggy had screeched in disbelief, chastising him for not saying anything sooner—but the past was the past.

You and Foggy—Matt's only friends—hadn’t celebrated his first real adult birthday. If your own feelings were any indicator, you were sure Foggy was also devastated that he'd missed this. It almost felt like a personal failing.

Though you'd scolded Matt, anyone with a morsel of knowledge about his upbringing or insecurities would know he'd never have told anyone about his birthday unless specifically asked. This was an oversight that you intended to remedy, hopefully Fog did too.

Opening one eye and grasping for your phone, you managed to seize it from your wobbly nightstand before it clattered to the floor. Sliding the device open, you typed the message out at a snail's pace, each press of a key jostling the pulsating knot behind your eyes.

You: U alive?

The sound your phone emitted as the text was sent into the void nearly deafened you. Gripping it to your chest, you collapsed sideways, burying your head into the cool sheets. Your breathing slowed, consciousness ebbing, before a second text tone jolted you awake.

Foggy: barely

Smiling at your friend's parallel misery, you responded.

You: matt there?

Foggy: no. might b dead. will report back.

You: can we chat?

Before you could even comprehend the consequences of what you'd just asked, an ear-piercing verse of Fergie's “Big Girls Don't Cry” blasted through your phone's speaker. Changing Foggy’s ringtone last night didn’t seem so funny anymore.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” You muttered, fumbling for the answer button. With a satisfied groan, you answered the call.

“Damn, you sound worse than I feel.” Foggy's hoarse voice chuckled over the line.

“So many regrets, Fog.” You moaned, squirming around on the bed while you waited for the ringing in your ears to subside. “Did we die? Is this hell?”

“Hey, speak for yourself. My good-christian-self is destined for eternal paradise.” Foggy scoffed.

“Point taken. If I'm still alive in a few hours, can we meet up to discuss our dear Matthew?” You asked, praying to god that your head stop aching with every breath you took.

“Discuss what exactly? Who'll be giving his eulogy when I find him dead in the communal bathroom?” Foggy grumbled.

“Please tell me that's a bad joke.” You deadpanned.

“He's fine, jitterbug. He left twentyish minutes ago to puke his guts out.” Foggy confessed.

“Gross, Fog.” You grimaced.

”Hey, you asked!“ He protested.

”I absolutely did not.” You laughed. “Can we meet up later?“

”Oh yah, forgot you asked. What are we meeting about?“ You could picture Foggy’s confused frown as he wondered aloud.

”His birthday, Fog.“ You explained, not quite in the mood to expound on the point.

”Shit, yah we should talk about that. Blue Java at 2?“ He suggested.

”Sounds good. Lower your expectations for my appearance. See you soon.”

Ending the call, you collapsed back onto your pillows and let your eyes fall shut.

Lifting your eyes marginally as the bell chimed to signal someone's arrival, you felt a weight fall off your shoulders as a noticeably-disheveled Foggy shuffled in. His face was adorned with cartoonishly large, heart-shaped sunglasses; even through your own tinted lenses, you noticed the vibrant cherry red plastic accentuating his pale complexion. His long hair was tangled and greasy, tucked haphazardly behind his ears. Not raising his head more than he needed to, he trudged the few feet from the door to the wobbly table you were seated at, collapsing into a dented steel chair with a groan.

“Hey Fog,” You chuckled hoarsely as dropped his head to the table, shielding his face with his arms.

He grumbled incoherently, not looking up.

Snorting, and immediately regretting it as your head pulsed with a renewed ache, you poked his arm. “C'mon Fog, up and at 'em.”

“No,” Foggy groused, tightening his arms around his head as you continued to prod at him. “I'm mad at you.”

Throat tightening, you withdrew your hand. ”You're mad at me?“

”You dragged me across the city when I feel like utter crap. I think it's warranted,“ Foggy moaned.

Resisting the urge to roll your eyes, you began jabbing him with your finger again. ”I think you'll get over it. Besides,“

Sliding a large paper cup over to the miserable boy, you forced it into the grip of one of his hands. ”I bought you a large snickerdoodle latte with extra whipped cream and four shots of espresso. That's gotta count for something, right?“

Foggy hummed appreciatively, dragging the cup towards his face as he gradually sat up. ”You're a godsend. I love you.“

”Damn, make up your mind, Nelson.“ You took a sip of your own coffee, briefly contemplating buying another before turning your attention back to your friend and his garish glasses. ”Those glasses look great on you, by the way.“

Foggy snorted, tossing his hair back over his shoulders. ”Why thank you. I found them in the dorm lost and found when I crawled back into the building after trying to brave the day without them.“

”Who would've thought such a fashion statement would happen by accident?“ You giggled.

”I'll have you know it was a deliberate choice to highlight my existing beauty.“ Foggy scoffed, pinching his own cheek.

Shaking your head at him, your tongue felt cemented in place, your brain not quite sure how to voice your concerns about your other friend.

As if he'd read your mind, Foggy dropped his chin to his chest. ”What the hell are we gonna do with him, bug?“

Tracing a finger around the plastic lid of his drink, Foggy looked downright morose, his glasses beginning to slip down the bridge of his nose as he pouted.

Digging your fingers into your brow, you kneaded circles into it to relieve the growing pressure. ”I have no clue, Fog. You really didn't know?“

”No!“ Foggy cried, clearly a bit offended. ”Birthdays are sacred, bug. Sacred! If he'd told me, I'd have...well, I'm not sure what I would have done. But I would have done SOMETHING.”

Nodding woefully, you tried to stifle the frustration building in your chest. “I know that he's probably not used to celebrating, but I can't believe he kept that from us. I don't know whether to be mad at him for not saying anything or mad at myself for not asking.”

“I hear that. Do we just let it slide?”

“Absolutely not.” You protested, your heart squeezing painfully at the idea of simply moving past this. “I actually might have an idea?”

When you hesitated, Foggy waved you on with a limp hand. ”What are you waiting for? It's scheming time!“

Biting your lip as your excitement grew, you launched into the plan your alcohol-soaked brain had cooked up when you fell asleep. Apparently, it wasn't too incomprehensible because Foggy was practically squealing by the end.

”That's PERFECT! How long do we have to prepare?“

”A week?“ You wondered aloud. ”I don't want him to think we've moved on, but we are going to need some time to make the arrangements.“

”Saturday it is. What do you need me to do?“

Grinning at Foggy's eager expression, you shrugged. “I don't know, Fog. What do you want to do?”

“Oh no!” Foggy shook his head, pointing a finger at you sternly. “You're the mastermind here. It's your job to tell me what to do.”

Laughing incredulously, you put your hands up in mock surrender. ”Ok, ok! One question: how are your cake-baking skills?“

Rolling his head in a circle to relieve the crick in his neck, Matt slipped his glasses off so he could pinch the bridge of his nose. He'd been working on this legal research assignment for nearly two hours at this point and it was beginning to irritate him. His brain was too entrenched with other concerns to process the text sitting on his desk--meaning he needed to run his fingers over the same lines again and again in order to even grasp the subject of the material.

Slamming the book closed, he brought a hand up to his scalp, tugging on his hair with a growl. The thud of the book cover falling against coarse paper echoed throughout the empty room, making Matt frown. He wasn't quite sure what Foggy was up to, but it was clear Matt wasn't invited.

A few hours ago, his roommate had started gathering up his belongings and bundling up without a word. When Matt had asked him where he was going, Foggy had clammed up. Though Matt wasn't able to see it himself, he was confident the other man had been wearing a classic ”deer in headlights“ expression. The combination of his startled tone and scrunched face could only mean one thing: Foggy was hiding something from him.

It was driving him up a wall. Listening to his best friend stammer out some shitty lie about needing to borrow a book from the library had to be one of the worst experiences of Matt's adult life. Foggy was such an honest person, hearing his heartbeat waver with deceit just felt so...wrong. It made him nauseous, in the same way the sound of styrofoam rubbing together did.

Swallowing around the emotions clogging his throat, Matt wet his lips. The more he thought about it, the more logical his anxieties seemed.

Foggy had been increasingly distant all week, and Matt had no idea why. The other man still spent time in their room, but it was limited, and it always felt like he was ready to bolt if Matt asked the wrong question. He'd come home at odd hours for the past three days, reeking of your familiar sweet perfume.

Despite Foggy's inability to admit to it, he'd been spending time with you--and Matt had not been invited.

When Matt had mentioned it to you, you'd waved off his concerns and quickly changed the subject, leaving him thoroughly confused. Both of you were dancing around a massive elephant whenever Matt was in the room, which was infuriating.

He'd thrown himself into their latest legal writing assignment in an attempt to think about anything other than the inevitable end of his two longest friendships, but he couldn't even manage to do that right. Which was odd because his routine this semester revolved pretty heavily around studying on Saturday afternoons.

Suddenly, he was struck by another wave of dread. Was this what the two of you refused to tell him? Was he holding you back from the true ”college“ life filled with underage drinking and loud music by being too concerned with your combined studies? Did you both find his insistence on staying in so unbearably annoying that you'd taken to making plans without him?

Shaking his head to rid himself of the intrusive thoughts, he inhaled deeply. No. That's not what was happening, he would have smelled the liquor on Foggy. Plus, you never seemed to mind spending a night in with him rather than going out on the town.

Allowing himself to get lost in his own thoughts, he didn't notice the familiar sounds of his roommate returning to their room. At the sound of the door opening, he jumped—ramming the rickety desk chair into the desk with a bang as he tried to turn around.

”Jeez, it's just me buddy, no need to have an aneurysm.“ Foggy chuckled, lingering by the door until Matt regained his bearings.

”Sorry,“ Matt muttered, snatching his glasses from the desk and slipping them on.

”No need to apologize, Matty.“ Foggy responded cheerfully, launching himself onto his bed with a small grunt. ”I should've said something before I came in. What if you'd been with a lady?“

At Foggy's mock-gasp, Matt could feel his sullen resolve dissipating. He snorted, his lips twitching as he fought back a smile. “It's 3pm on a Saturday, Fog. Why would I bring a girl back here?”

Throwing his hands up in the air, Foggy twisted to give Matt a look. “Last week you took a girl home from Sunday Brunch at Tom's, Murdock. There's no telling what the handsome duck will do on a given day.”

A laugh burst out of Matt's lips against his will. Shaking his head, he let himself smile. “You told me to talk to her!”

“Uh yah, because she was making googly eyes at you and I'm a fantastic wingman. C'mon man, keep up!” Foggy smirked.

With a snort, Matt collapsed onto his own bed, letting his face fall towards Foggy's. “You are a fantastic wingman. I should be more grateful.”

“Damn right.” Foggy's grin was evident, the sound of his happy heart a welcomed thud in Matt's ears. The absence of Foggy's noisy self had filled their shared space with a stifling, uneasy silence. Now that the quiet had ended, Matt finally felt like he could breathe again.

”Matt, buddy?“ Foggy's direct question snapped him back to reality.

”Huh?“

Chuckling, Foggy shuffled over to Matt's bed, sitting beside him. ”Fallin' asleep on me, Murdock? I'll have you know, I am RIVETING company.”

“'M not falling asleep.” Matt protested, somewhat unbelievably as his eyes remained closed.

“Sure, sure. Tell that to the cartoon letter Z's coming out of your head, dude. I asked if you wanted to get dinner later?”

Foggy's hands twisted around each other, preventing his usual animated gestures. Matt's mattress shifted as his roommate wriggled uncomfortably. Anxiety was cascading off the long-haired man's shoulders, reigniting the dread in Matt's stomach.

Flipping to face the wall, Matt drew his knees towards his chest and away from his roommate's seated form. “Sure, Fog. whatever you want.”

Patting Matt's leg, Foggy's posture drooped with relief. “Great! You have a good nap and I'll wake you up when we have to leave.”

Giving his friend an indifferent thumbs up, Matt squeezed his eyes shut in an effort to stop the tears from falling.

A handful of restless hours later, Matt's jaw was tight as he and Foggy walked across campus to meet you for dinner. Rather than allowing Foggy to guide him, as he'd grown accustomed to, he'd opted for walking alone with his cane. Foggy seemed a bit hurt, but didn't argue. As they closed in on the agreed upon meeting place, Foggy was practically skipping with nervous energy.

While you were still a few blocks away, Matt had focused on your pulse the minute he picked up on it. It was stuttering and unsteady, just like Foggy's–which did nothing to calm his nerves. Hearing Foggy's jacket rustle as he waved to you, Matt tried for a smile, though he was sure it wasn't very convincing.

“Hey guys!” You greeted, jogging over to them. “Long time no see!”

“VERY long time.” Foggy laughed nervously. “Barely remember who you are, actually.”

You snorted, pulling Matt into a hug despite his rigid posture. “Hey trouble. I missed you this week.”

Melting into your embrace, Matt tucked his nose into your scarf, relishing the scent of vanilla and light floral perfume that coated the accessory. You'd missed him. The thought of you valuing his presence enough to notice the absence of it after a few days warmed his heart.

“Missed you too, sweetheart.”

Unraveling your arms from around his waist, you slid a hand into his elbow and squeezed gently. “Everything ok? You two seem tense.”

“Tense? Pfft, never. I'm great. Best I've ever been, even. Off to dinner with my two friends, the three musketeers. Nothing could be better.” Foggy rambled aimlessly, twiddling his thumbs.

Letting Foggy's words hang in the air for a moment, you made a strangled noise, tugging Matt backwards as your footsteps stopped. Resting a hand on Matt's forearm, you chuckled. “Fuck, he's been like this all day, hasn't he? No wonder you seem stressed.”

Gawking, Foggy started to sputter out an excuse but you ignored him, continuing to speak to Matt as if you two were alone. “Don't fret, bubs. He's just nervous he'll ruin the surprise.”

“Surprise?” Matt wondered aloud, “What surprise?”

“Yah, bug. What surprise?” Matt could practically hear Foggy staring daggers at you.

“Fog, look at him. He's freaking out.” You observed, frowning at Matt's tight jaw and scrunched brow.

“I am not.” Matt blushed, ducking his head as he felt your eyes roaming over his face. Your ability to read him like a picture book never ceased to unsettle him.

“Sure, trouble. Let's just finish our walk and all this anxiety will be over, ok?” You bumped your hip against his, ignoring his attempt to maintain his suave image. “Don't let Fog scare you, he's just worried he'll lose the bet.”

“I am not!”

“You are too. We both know how dangerous your loose lips can be.” Placing your free hand on Matt's bicep, you turned your attention back to the dark-haired boy. “Promise he didn't say anything to you?”

“I am absolutely clueless.” Matt confirmed.

“Ha! I told you I could keep it a secret.” Foggy boasted.

“We'll see, Fog. We aren't there yet.” You reminded him.

“It's not MY fault I'm so eager to tell him. He's my best friend!” Foggy pouted.

“Which is why we made the bet as extra motivation, Fog.” You chuckled.

“You guys know I'm still here, right?“ Matt asked nervously, feeling too similar to a cow being led to slaughter for his liking.

Foggy threw an arm around his shoulders in lieu of a response, leaning forward to direct his next comment at you specifically.

“You do know where we're going right? Because this feels a lot like walking in circles.”

Matt could practically hear your eye roll. “You know, next time we plan something, you can pick the venue.”

Foggy tossed his far hand into the air. “Hey, I'm not judging.”

“Tell that to your judging tone, Nelson. You're giving me second thoughts and it's a bit late for that.” You teased. “And I'd like to remind you, I was pretty hungover when we planned this.”

“So WAS I!”

Matt let your playful bickering wash over him, feeling the start of a smile playing on his lips.

The walk to your destination wasn't far, only a few blocks, but the combination of the blistering wind and aching cold made it feel like an eternity. Matt was relatively familiar with the campus, but you were walking past the buildings he was familiar with towards a less populated corner of the college. It's not that he wasn't ok exploring an unfamiliar area of Manhattan, it just didn't help his growing confusion about the situation the two of you were keeping from him.

After the 8 block stroll, which Foggy complained about thoroughly, you reached the Northern edge of Columbia. Standing on the cracked sidewalk, Matt could feel the campus fighting with the rest of the city–the sounds of screaming college students competing with blaring horns and shrill whistles just one block over. The sounds were slightly muddled by the brick building you'd stopped at, echoing off opposite walls and ricocheting in all directions.

“Are we finally here?” Foggy groaned, voice muffled by the scarf he'd tucked over his nose and mouth in, what Matt assumed, was a futile attempt to keep warm.

“Matty, remind me to stop inviting Fog to things.” You quipped, knocking solidly on a locked metal door as Foggy gasped in offense.

The thick steel entrance was quickly unlatched by a man, whose deep voice Matt didn't recognize, halting your and Foggy's renewed bickering.

”Thanks Josh!“ You squeezed the man's shoulder before stepping through the threshold and into the strange building. ”Right this way, gentlemen!“ You called over your shoulder to your friends who hurried to take shelter from the winter chill.

Once inside, Matt's shoulders relaxed as the tension seeped out of them. Escaping the awful cold was a welcomed relief, and, on top of that, the unfamiliar space was immensely…quiet.

The surrounding walls were thick and much better suited to keeping city noise out than any of the other academic buildings he'd walked through. Sound-proofed maybe? His practiced ears could still hear screeching tires and pounding club music, but the noises were unusually faint–as if his ears were covered with a hundred layers of spun cotton.

Inside the building, soft classical music was playing. Perfectly tuned string instruments sang brilliantly with the accompaniment of expert percussionists. It was peaceful in a way Matt hadn't experienced since listening to the St. Agnes choir rehearse as a child.

Letting his mind get lost in the melodies drifting through the hallways, Matt absently felt you take his arm, guiding him up a few sets of stairs and into a carpeted room. The scent of burning candle wax and sugar filled his nose, and he could feel Foggy's excitement peaking.

”Happy belated birthday, buddy!” His roommate clapped him on the back, ushering him into a seat as you fiddled with what must have been a window lock.

“What?” Matt asked, truly perplexed as Foggy uncorked a bottle of wine and poured three glasses. His birthday? How did you two even– Oh god. A hazy memory ran through his mind; a confession falling off his inebriated lips. Shit.

“You didn't think we'd forgotten that little tidbit, did you?” You teased, cranking a wobbly handle and unsealing the window. With a quiet 'pop', the window burst open and music flooded the room. “There we go! Let me know if it's too loud, trouble.”

Matt's throat was clenched as he truly took in his surroundings. Though he'd never been, he assumed, based on the context clues, that he was listening to the orchestra practice from somewhere in the music building. He wasn't quite sure how you and Foggy had discovered this space, or gained access to it, but he wasn’t going to question your combined wills. “You did this...for me?”

“Course we did, bud! Birthdays deserve a celebration!!” Foggy explained, pressing a glass of sparkling wine into his hand.

“We got sandwiches from the corner deli, champagne from the market, a cake from Silver Moon bakery, and,” You pulled up a chair beside Matt, squeezing his arm as you sat down. “We get to listen to the Orchestra's rehearsal for their ballet next week!”

Matt opened his mouth to say something, hopefully expressing his immense gratitude in the process, but the words refused to form. Swallowing a gulp of the sweet bubbly drink, he fought back the urge to cry.

“Do you like it?” Foggy asked eagerly, his eyes burning holes into Matt's forehead as he tried to read the blind man's reaction.

“I–I love it.” Matt murmured, eyes stinging with tears. “You didn't have to go through so much effort–”

“Oh stop,” You waved off his customary guilt, bumping his shoulder with your own. “We wanted to, bubs. You deserve to have a good birthday. Next time, maybe even in the correct month.”

Matt chuckled weakly at that. “Thank you both. I—I’m sorry for not saying anything last semester…” Trailing off, Matt debated whether to be brutally honest about his upbringing. A warm palm was placed over his hand, which you then squeezed encouragingly.

“If you want to tell us, we’re here to listen.” Was your soft reminder.

“We love you, dude. We just want you to feel comfortable with us.” Foggy explained, knocking a knee against Matt’s.

“I do, I swear! I just…I haven’t celebrated my birthday since my dad passed. I don’t think the nuns even knew that it was in October.” Matt snorted, his small laugh tinged with bitterness. “I didn’t want to bother you both by asking for something, I guess.”

“Oh, Matt.” Foggy says mournfully, scooching his chair closer to the dark-haired boy.

“You deserve to be celebrated, trouble.” You remarked, fingers dancing in your lap to the rhythm of the music. “And don’t think this belated party absolves you of one for this coming October. This was a backlog situation.”

Foggy raised his glass. “I’ll drink to that.”

Downing the small portion of alcohol, he grimaced. “Oh my god! This is awful.”

“It’s the best I could do! Oscar is out of town.” You lamented, coughing on your own swallow.

Matt smiled. “Maybe you two are just weak.”

You both scoffed at that, immediately pouring yourselves more to drink.

The sandwiches were decent, as always, but the cake was phenomenal. Chocolate sponge filled with a rich ganache and covered in vanilla whipped cream. Though Matt loved dessert as much as the next person, it could be hard for him to find things that weren’t filled with chemicals, way too much sugar, or–god forbid–non-edible items that warranted a health code violation. Not only had the two of you managed to find a cake that he enjoyed, but he had a sneaking suspicion that it was not just a lucky guess.

The two of you truly knew him.

A month ago, maybe even a week ago, he would’ve been terrified. All the lessons Stick had taught him, the main reason he hadn’t formed any lasting relationships in his two decades on Earth, had boiled down to one principle: proximity to others is dangerous. But you and Foggy had proven his former mentor wrong. Matt’s life had improved significantly since he’d set foot on Columbia’s campus, all because of the two of you and your massive hearts.

Placing another forkful of cake into his mouth, Matt was suddenly giddy with gratitude. The champagne undermining his ordinarily reluctant subconscious and revealing the immense love that he held for the two of you. By the time you’d all demolished the food, his limbs had been warmed by the alcohol.

“At least you know Fog will never find another best friend behind your back, Matt.” You giggled, bringing him back to the present as you drained the bubbles from your glass. “He wouldn’t be able to hide that from you.”

“You make it sound like he’s my paranoid spouse or something!” Foggy laughed.

“Paranoid?” Matt gasped. “Who told you!”

“Uh oh, you’re in the doghouse now, Nelson!” You beamed, licking icing from your fork. “You shouldn’t speak ill of your wife like that.”

“Ok, first of all,” Foggy raised a hand. “He’d clearly be the husband in this scenario.”

“Clearly.” Matt jested, rolling his eyes to you.

“Second of all,” Foggy spoke over him. “Matt has made it very clear that he is not interested in legalizing our profound bond.”

As Foggy broke off into fake sobs, you gasped and Matt cackled. “Matthew! Why would you turn down such a marvelous offer?” You scolded, standing to give Foggy a wobbly hug as his dramatized reaction gradually slowed.

“I know why,” Foggy sniffled, shifting his body away from Matt with a pout. “It’s because of my inadequacy.”

“What the hell are you talking about, Fog?” Matt chuckled, crossing his arms as he waited for Foggy to reveal the punchline.

“I can't—can't...” Foggy stammered emphatically. Rubbing circles on his back, you frowned in exaggerated concern, your breath stifled as you tried desperately not to laugh.

“It's ok, Fog. This is a safe space. You can tell us anything.” You reminded the blond, clearly in as much anticipation as Matt was.

“I can't DANCE!” Foggy cried, collapsing to the ground in a heap. “And heaven will burn before Matthew Murdock marries someone who would step on his toes.”

You and Matt erupted into boisterous laughter as Foggy stuck his nose into the air. “It's true. Tell her, Matt. Tell her about my left feet!”

Still giggling, Matt shook his head. “Fog, I'm blind! You've taken a whole semester of modern dance! If anyone has two left feet it's me.”

Jumping to his feet a bit unsteadily, Foggy swept an arm across the room, beginning to slow dance by himself. “Woe is me!” He cried with a forcibly shaky voice. “No partner to dance with!”

“I'll dance with you, Fog. You poor thing,” You cooed, squealing in delight as Foggy grasped your hand and spun you towards him.

Matt beamed as he heard the two of you swaying to the rhythm of the music playing throughout the building. Foggy was humming softly along and you were attempting to get your tipsy limbs to obey the commands your brain was sending.

“Ok, I'm getting way too dizzy. Time to cut in, Murdock!” You chuckled, plopping down into your seat as Matt stood from his.

“Gladly!” Matt smirked, yelping as Foggy yanked him forward and positioned his hands on the long-haired man's own hips.

“I'm confused, aren't you leading?” Matt questioned, body going slack as Foggy began to twirl them around.

“I'm trying! Pick up your damn feet, dude!” Foggy scoffed, kicking Matt's shoe lightly.

“Then why are my arms underneath yours?”

“Because I'M the WIFE!”

“But you have to lead!” Matt shot back, still chuckling.

“Ugh, forget it. It'll never work between us, dear Matthew. Remember me when you dance with your bride on your wedding day.” Foggy clapped him on the back, curtseying before stepping away. ”Farewell, sweet prince!“

Shaking his head as Foggy strode away, Matt turned his attention to you, smiling rougishly. “Hmmm, it seems I'm in need of a new partner. Care to dance with me, sweetheart?”

Shrieking with laughter, you attempted to make your escape by darting around your chair, but Matt snatched you around the waist, pulling your hips towards his.

“I'm no Franklin Nelson, Matty. I'll trip over you!” You protested, weakly trying to squirm out of his grip, smile still gracing your lips.

“I don't mind, bug. If you want to give it another shot, that is.” Matt loosened the hold he had on your hips, allowing you to refuse if you truly wanted to, but you remained mere centimeters from him.

“S-sure, Matty. How do I...” You flexed your fingers, unsure of where to place your hands.

“Fog?” Matt called to his roommate, grinning when the blond rushed over in a huff to 'correct their form'.

With your hands linked around his neck, and his palms pressed gently against your hips, Matt inhaled deeply as he focused on the tempo of the song currently playing. Swishing the two of you from side to side, Matt stepped carefully in a waltz motion, the very one he'd heard Foggy practicing night after night during the slow dancing unit of his class.

His movements weren't nearly as confident as Foggy's but you seemed pleasantly surprised, letting him move you around the room with a bit less force than your other friend had. Tilting into him slightly, you huffed out an exhale.

”Dizzy?“ Matt asked quietly, hearing your eyelids flutter closed.

”Drank too fast, I think.“ You reasoned, scrunching your nose as the ground continued to spin beneath you.

”C'mere, sweetheart.“ Matt clasped his hands behind your lower back, tucking your head under his chin as he slowed his movements. ”Need to sit down?“

”No,“ You sighed, nuzzling into the junction of his neck and shoulder. ”This is better.“

”I'm glad.“ Matt murmured, pretending not to feel Foggy staring daggers into his back.

Humming appreciatively, your thumb rubbed over his nape. ”You smell nice, Matty.“

Huffing out a laugh, Matt battled the urge to plant a kiss to your crown. ”So do you, sweets. Thank you for a great birthday.“

”Of course.“ Your thumb continued to stroke small lines over his neck. ”You deserve it.“

Withdrawing slightly from your embrace, Matt craned his neck towards where his other friend was finishing the last dregs of the champagne. ”Thank you too, Fog. I appreciate you both so much.“

”We love you too, buddy.“ Foggy smiled, stepping over the spread of food to help remove you from Matt's side.

Gently sliding you into a seated position on the carpet, Foggy sat to your left, prodding you until you nestled back onto Matt's shoulder to your other side. Plucking a fleece blanket from the floor, the blond wrapped it around the three of you cozily.

”There we go. Everyone warm enough?“ Foggy asked. You nodded sleepily as Matt hummed his assent.

Tapping his fingers to the steady beat of the percussionists below, Matt closed his eyes, smile never falling from his face.

Taglist: @eugene-emt-roe @abbyhaslongshorts @mrs-bellingham @abucketofweird @yeonalie @jadeunstablexx @spider-murdock @0ctober-writes @danzer8705 @mattmurdockstateofmind @supervoldejaygent @dorothleah @zomtart @marytheweefrenchie @cheshirecat484 @siampie @ignore-mp3 @silas-aeiou @rev-glut @screechingphantommaker @spiderstyles04 @paradox-brody-chase @msjb2002

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jigujellee · 2 years

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EMERGENCY CONTACT -> you’re only supposed to call when you want each other, but what happens when she calls you because she needs you? (part 1: lead the way)

jennie x reader smut, fluff, angst - a triple threat >:) word count: 2.7k warnings: swearing, slight stalking moment

a/n: helloooo! happy new year again to everyone :D i know some of you have been waiting for this to drop, so i hope you enjoy it! as usual, it's not proofread so i'm sorry for any mistakes you may come across while reading. i'm also sorry if this is rusty, i've had writer's block for so long and it's only starting to get a little bit better,, but anw i love you all and remember to take care of yourselves!

the sound of wet kisses and quiet whimpers are the only things heard within the walls of jennie’s bedroom.

“fuck y/n, just like that” jennie moans as her hands get tangled in your hair, trying to push you even closer to her dripping wet core. you lap your tongue along the length of her slit causing the raven haired girl to arch her back.

“oh god! i’m so close baby, please don’t stop”

after reaching her orgasm and allowing her to return the favour, the two of you lay together in her bed trying to catch your breaths before jennie starts to giggle.

“what’s so funny miss kim?”

“nothing, it’s just that i’ll always be amazed by the way you fuck me y/n”

you turn over to face her and pull her closer to you, smiling as you two fall asleep together.

you don’t recall explicitly stating the terms and conditions of your “relationship”, for lack of a better word. after the first night you and jennie hooked up, she began calling you up in the late hours of the night saying she needed to “destress from work”, obviously meaning she needed the stress fucked out of her. you eventually started to do the same once midterm season was slowly approaching, and that’s how this whole thing started really. to an outsider, this was a simple friends with benefits situation but you didn’t really call like calling it that. to be quite honest, you didn’t know what to call this; you’re just satisfied with it.

but you felt a change and you didn’t like where it was going.

the last few times you’ve slept with jennie went as they usually do - you two meet up, have dinner, take a stroll somewhere and then eagerly rush to one of your places to have sex. then in the morning, whoever wakes up first makes breakfast (you’ve been to each other’s places enough times to know where everything is) and then one of you leaves until the cycle continues again. it was almost a routine at this point, so you start to question when you notice jennie trying to break it.

your suspicions started when you woke up to her staring at you. not so much in a creepy manner, but more so like she was adoring you as you slept. when your eyes open and they meet hers, a smile slowly grows as her somewhat hoarse voice (from all the screaming yk) manages to let out a soft “good morning.” you look into her eyes momentarily, noticing a glint of something that wasn’t there before but you ignore it. “morning,” you say as you get up and make way for the bathroom, not looking back to notice a sulking jennie.

then you noticed how she snuggles into your neck and places a soft kiss just below your jawline, whispering a “thank you” before drifting off to sleep. jennie has only recently been thanking you for having sex with her, and with you being the slight overthinker that you are, you believe that her “thank you” may have a slightly different meaning; something that she knows she doesn't want to admit yet.

today, you noticed how she begged to stay even after breakfast.

“what’s the rush? i don’t have work today and you don’t have classes”

“come on, we always do this jen, you know time’s up after breakfast”

“well, i wanna change it up today. why don’t we go do something fun?”

“like?”

“take me on a date,” she casually says, causing you to nearly choke on your almost finished coffee.

“a date? why?”

“it’s just a way for us to bond”

“is bonding in bed not enough?”

“oh come on y/n, it’s just a fun little date”

you sigh in defeat, watching as your opponent hops off the couch in glee to get dressed, but not before planting a kiss on your cheek.

“thank you,” she says, almost lovingly. you say nothing in return and just proceed to your room to get ready for this “date.”

“how much longer?” you yell from outside the dressing room. unfortunately for you, the term “date” to jennie just meant going shopping with her.

“someone’s eager to see me,” the girl smirks as she pulls the curtain back to reveal her in a simple yet elegant black dress.

“help me zip up please?” jennie’s back is towards you and you can’t help but stare hungrily at the bare skin. as you grab the zipper, you slowly pull it up to close the dress but your intrusive thoughts came over you and you begin leaving soft kisses on her back before you could zip it up completely. jennie sighs at the feeling of your lips on her skin. as you move up closer to her neck, you feel her arm wrap around the back of your neck. nibbling softly on the lobe of her ear, you whisper, “why don’t i just unzip this dress and take you right here, right now?” but as much as she wanted it, jennie stops your movements and turns to face you.

“i want a day without sex, y/n”

“huh? why, did you get your period or something?”

“no, i just want to enjoy this day without having to end it with sex like we always do”

your suspicions began to rise again. though you meet up with her every so often for your little fuck buddy system, you two rarely saw each other outside of that simply because of school and work. so for her to be asking for a day to just be with you without the sex makes you wonder why? and for what reason?

still, you decide to go along with it and see where it takes you. you leave the store without the black dress and start walking around the mall by jennie’s side. your left hand was in your pant pocket while you let your right hand swing in the air. when you feel jennie brush her hand against yours, you don’t move your hand for a moment to see if she tries to hold it. and you were right; she slowly tries to interlock your hands together, but you move your hand away and offer to carry her bags instead. this continued for the rest of your time at the mall together, her movements varying from trying to hold your hand or link arms with you, or even trying to snuggle up against you when you bumped into a classmate of yours. anything she tried to initiate, you would shut it down immediately.

on the way to your car, it was silent. you felt something brewing in the air and it didn’t feel good. so as you drive her home, you attempt to lighten the mood.

“damn miss kim, you have so many bags in the back, i can barely see in my rear view mirror”

dead silence.

“i honestly thought you were gonna buy the whole mall back there,” you quickly glance at her to find her staring out the window.

“alright, what’s wrong jennie? why the silent treatment?”

“is sex the only thing you want from me?” she asked, annoyed but her gaze never leaves the window.

“what are you talking about?”

“i know you know. i’m not stupid and neither are you. but is this really all you want out of this? out of us?”

“what ‘us’ are you talking about jen? this is just those things where we casually fuck”

“oh, so it really is just that. i’m just someone you call when you’re horny, that’s it”

“don’t act like you didn't start it!” you raise your voice slightly.

“that’s what it was before i fell in love with you! did you really think that we could pull this off without one of us catching feelings?”

“you seemed like the type, so yes i did”

“what the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

you pull into the driveway of jennie’s house and shut the engine off. you unbuckle your seatbelt and try to leave the car to go help with her bags, but jennie grabs you by the arm to keep you in your seat.

“i’m gonna ask you again y/n, is sex the only thing you want from me?”

you look at her in the eyes and you watch the tears form in them. this setup was dangerous from the start, but you really tried to keep things casual with her.

“yes. this was supposed to be just sex, and you fucked it up for us”

before you could even say anything else, she unbuckles her own seatbelt and gets out of your car without forgetting to slam the door. she grabs her bags from the trunk and also closes it with a slam. you didn’t even bother to help because you knew she’d reject it, and there was nothing you could do but watch as she angrily marches toward the entrance of her house that you used to be welcome in, until now.

the internet says it takes roughly 21 days to break a habit. for some people, it could be more and for some, it could be less. but for you and jennie, the routine you two shared managed to be broken in just one second with one sentence.

it’s 3:14am, you can’t sleep and you know you’ll wake up with dark circles under your eyes. still, you lay in bed and stare blankly at the ceiling as you wonder what the fuck was wrong with you.

thinking back to when you two first hooked up, there were no rules or terms and conditions to your situation with jennie. nothing was put in place, no one said that you couldn’t fall in love with each other, so why did you penalize her for it? you had no clue. maybe you were just a natural asshole. or were you just scared?

you can’t deny the fact that there were times you entertained the idea of being in a relationship with jennie. but yes, it did scare you - jennie is a well-known model and has an image to uphold, so what would the public think if they found out you, a broke college student, would be dating her? you’ve imagined the kind of comments you’d get from netizens and you wondered what kind of questions paparazzi would throw towards jennie: “jennie! is it true? are you dating an average college student?” “is it because you feel bad?” “do you pity the girl?” “does she want you for the money?”

it haunts you. you couldn’t bear the thought of being the reason jennie’s image gets ruined.

to try and soothe your brain, you pick up your phone to play some lofi music in hopes to fall asleep. your thumb hovers over a song before seeing a name flash on the top of the screen.

miss kim <3 is calling

you let it ring a couple of times before answering,

“jennie?”

“y/n, hi i’m so sorry but um,” her voice is shaky, as if she was about to cry or if she was scared. you didn’t like either of those options.

“y/n i think i’m being followed. can you please come get me?”

“send your location, i’ll be there as soon as i can”

seeing that she was only a 10 minute walk away, you sprint to where she is and you find her standing in front of a light post in the park. as you approach her, you notice a figure standing near a bench, and a light suddenly illuminates from what looks like his phone; it seems as if he was checking it as if he wasn’t following jennie just now. he definitely noticed your presence but he waits to see if you’d leave her alone.

you whisper to jennie, “are you alright? did he hurt you?”

“i’m okay, he didn’t touch me. but if you didn’t come, i don’t know what he could’ve done. is he still there?”

your eyes glance up and you see the man still standing in the same spot, still looking at his phone.

“yeah, but i have an idea. i just hope it’ll work”

you wait for a moment and you watch his eyes come up from his phone, glances at you and jennie, and then turns to look in the opposite direction. you take this chance to quickly hide into a bush behind you, and you slowly crawl towards the man near the bench. when you’re close enough, you rustle the bushes to get his attention and you watch him get startled by the sudden movement. to add on, you start barking and growling like a dog which made you feel stupid, but it was convincing enough to make him run the opposite way from jennie.

she walks towards you, or the bush rather, and calls for you - “he’s gone now, you can come out now little guy”

“little guy my ass," you say as you dust yourself off of any dirt. "but i honestly didn’t think that would work. do you really think it was convincing?”

“yup, you were a real bitch back there y/n”

“touché”

jennie giggles, “but really, thank you. i’m sorry you were the one i called, i just didn’t know who else would come at this time and you’re the first person in my emergency contacts.”

you say nothing. you simply stare at her, admiring her features that make her who she is. you’re glad you’re her emergency contact. not her manager, not her friends, not even her family; it’s you.

you reach out your hand, "why don't you stay the night? and you can stay as long as you need to”

jennie sits at the dinner table, watching as you prepare breakfast for the two of you. you insisted she just sit back and relax after what happened last night.

“i’m fine y/n, i could’ve helped you cook”

“it’s alright, you must be tired and hungry”

you place down her plate that was filled with two pancakes, two sunny side up eggs, bacon, and fresh fruit on the side. you set yours down and take a seat, excited to dig in after hearing your stomach growl.

it’s silent for the most part. you don’t want to bring up last night’s events, and you figured jennie must’ve wanted some peace and quiet.

“so y/n..”

well, so much for peace and quiet. you looked up at her in response.

“can we talk? about us?”

“actually yes, we should”

jennie clenches her knife and fork, bracing herself for the worst that could happen.

“jen, i gotta be honest with you. i was just scared of falling in love with you. you know, you have this image you need to maintain and i just didn’t want to be the reason it gets tarnished. i refused to fall in love because i didn’t want any of us to get hurt in the long run”

she says nothing and just pokes at a blueberry, rolling it around the plate.

“however,” you pause slightly for dramatic effect.

“i realized that it was stupid of me to stop myself from falling. and it was also stupid of me to pretend that you weren’t falling. and i realized that i really love the idea of being your emergency contact”

jennie still says quiet, but now she manages to look at you with hope in her eyes.

“basically what i’m saying is that i want to give us a try. not just for the sex, not just this whole thing we got going on, i want the real deal with you. i know for a fact i won’t be perfect, we definitely won't be perfect. but for you i’m willing to try. because it’s you jen; i choose you.”

a gummy smile makes its way on jennie’s face, the events of the night long forgotten. at last, she feels seen and loved by you, the only person she’s ever wanted to feel loved by and the only person she’s willing to risk her image for.

“alright ash ketchum, let me help you with the dishes”

“damn, way to ruin a moment miss kim” you joke, as you follow your soon-to-be girlfriend to the sink.

#girl group imagines #girl group scenarios #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #blackpink #blackpink imagines #blackpink scenarios #blackpink smut #blackpink angst #blackpink fluff #jennie kim #jennie x reader #jennie fluff #jennie smut #jennie angst #fem reader

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natalie-goodmn · 2 months

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Next to Normal round 3 thoughts:

there’s a lot of things I noticed this time that I didn’t before but that’s just bc as a Natalie stan I must be looking at her the whole time

- I never noticed Gabe throwing Dan’s keys in Just Another Day before that’s SO funny

- I also finally saw Diana kiss Henry, she really WENT FOR IT

- is it just me or does the Wyndhams need to turn up their mics?? Maybe it’s just that I need it In My Ear Canal but I’ve noticed the singing is a bit quiet (I also didn’t notice this in Oklahoma)

- I love Gabe holding the microphones to Natalie and Dan during their I’m Alive dialogue. He might be a demon with the spirit of a dead two year old but he’s sooo silly :D

(this is getting long so more under the cut)

- something something Natalie playing her fake keyboard with the band’s piano behind her, something acting and pretending like she’s a normal person with a normal family

- I just realised that Gabe AND Natalie licks up Diana’s leg. Diversity win

- the parallels of Gabe and Diana reaching out to each other in Im Alive vs Natalie reaching down to her in Wish I Were Here (and maybe Catch Me I’m Falling) i feel sick,,,

- Gabe holding Diana in I Am the One like Henry’s holding Natalie, welcome back Freudian Gabe

- also the head kiss parallel with Gabe in Just Another Day and before he’s about to leave in I Dreamed a Dance

- the blood is so visceral but a part of me misses the bway staging too where they just walk off slowly and as dr madden talks abt Diana’s attempt. It’s basically the same thing but the reveal felt slower idk

- also man every time I miss the donmar staging of the one tiny bit where Dan’s going “Is this helping or? Di?” as Diana just walks off and back to the therapy chair. Idk it just felt like dissociation better to me, but I do like Ominous Circle Of Thinking

- I also love love love how they play the “I love you as much as I can” in this. They play it like a failed charm roll, and you really get everyone’s frustration and that she’s trying hard

- and then in Maybe when you see that Diana actually knows Natalie deeply bc she’s like her,,, hold on. Similarly, I love how the first person Natalie hugs in act two (I think?) is Diana instead of Henry. Me when the real story is between a mother and daughter (mamma Mia who)

- Diana rolling her eyes and mouthing ‘oh my fucking-‘ to Dan going “can you tell me what it is you’re afraid of” is maybe the best representation of anxiety and I’m not even kidding, MOOD Diana

- god I know it’s been in all the productions but I love how much agency Diana has, you rarely see it with mentally ill characters but she’s so funny and knows what she wants and I love her

- everyone’s said it, everyone knows it but JACK WOLFE god he’s amazing every time

- I’ve thought this both times, is it just me or when Gabe is silhouetted (I think with the music box) is his neck like inhumanly thin??? Like genuinely asking, I don’t think that’s Jack’s neck?? Is it?? Am I just misunderstanding human anatomy when someone wears a hoodie

- I’ve said it before but I Am the One reprise is one of the best scenes in musical theatre and it should end there. I’m a Light hater SORRY, I like the message a lot but it’s always felt like a studio note or something where they’ve been told that it has to be uplifting at the end or it’ll do badly and make everyone sad

- natalie,,, covering her ears and her big headphones. Autism. Also really love Eleanor’s portrayal of her anxiety. Instead of Jen’s anger, she has a hamster like anxiety quality to her (complimentary)

- also I swear I see no one talk about it WHEN GABE TOUCHED NATALIE’S HAND??? AND SHE NOTICES SOMETHING??? That’s new for this production right?? Theories???

- Natalie starting to tidy up Gabe’s toys,,, she’s breaking the cycle,, she’s the hope. And playing with them with Henry and showing him the bunny toy 😭

- I’ll say it. The “you’re like number one on my list of problems” doesn’t work that well if you don’t have Jen and Adam’s sarcasm. Too earnest. Banned.

- I’ve said a lot abt this Henry but I actually like this act 2! He plays him v desperate and anxious which I don’t think Adam does, it shows the stakes for act two. Also his arc UGH. From being a Dan parallel where he’s saying he’ll be perfect for her and that he wants who he knew and that he’ll stay anyway because he made a promise to,,, the dance and saying that he’ll stay bc he loves her and he doesn’t care if she goes crazy

- Also I think Natalie mouths ‘help me’ as she stops Henry from walking off in A Promise owwww

- also Henry apologising to the pianist after the recital (I think?) and picking up Natalie’s bag from the club 😭

#next to normal west end #next to normal #next to normal uk

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velvetures · 1 year

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omg hey just here to shoot a request, idk if you do gaz as well but only soap is ok too. maybe something like soap x reader where the reader is a transfer from the american sector and she's just this super energetic, "AMERICA SCRAAAWWW" kind of person but is also super in learning about cultures and stuff. then the boys take her to this texas themed pub that she just criticizes the shit ton as she's from texas. i think it'll be funny to see a scot x texan lol thxx

God Bless Texas... and Scotland

A/N: I believe my goal here is to make something a little more on the joking/humorous side here... I'm not trying to get into politics or country pride on a deep level. This is just for fun. Nevertheless, thank you for requesting, I hope you enjoy the direction I went with this. This is sooo damn cheesy... Summary: On shore leave, you and Soap get into a conversation about what it was like in your home countries. A couple funny stereotypes and light-hearted argument later, the 141 decide that experiencing both sides of the coin are necessary to settle the score. T/W's: stereotypes ofc, cursing, friendly banter/teasing, and as always not proofread.

It all started when you came out of your private quarters into the shared living room with an old t-shirt on with the admittedly cliche statement 'God Bless Texas' printed boldly over the front inside of a state-boundary shape. Out of all of the members of the 141, you were undoubtedly the most... shall we say... patriotic. At least in terms of your state pride and your unwavering happiness of having family still living there who were so in support of you and your work. Having family in the first place was something different compared to the rest of the squad, and it made the whole pride of where you came from a lot more difficult to understand.

You'd spent years at this point being around the 141 and learning all kinds of very unique and traditional habits that they carried with them despite oftentimes not having a family to share them with. Most of those, they shared with each other, and after getting comfortable with you was extended as a way to bond with you outside of the missions and other job requirements that you did together. From Soap's requirement of the "First Footing" tradition on New Year's, Captian Price never missing a Soccer World Cup no matter where he is, and Gaz's refusal to have a Christmas dinner without Christmas pudding, there isn't a time when someone isn't explaining their desire to incorporate some country, cultural, or family tradition in one way or another.

So, naturally, Soap was ecstatic when he found out about some little niche place that had opened up an 'American, Texas-Themed' restaurant. He knew it would be totally overdone, as did everyone else, so they all thought it would be something of a light-hearted way to poke fun at your loyalties by taking you there as a "resident expert" that could point them in the right direction and away from everything else. Truly the idea of having at least on full hour of teaisng you with everything they could just sounded like a damn good way to spend an afternoon.

The place was a little hole-in-the-wall pub with a little bit of seating that wasn’t directly at the bar. Dim lighting made it feel pretty inviting, but the obvious country music choices including Texas natives: George Strait, Waylon Jennings, and Willie Nelson made it feel a little cheap. Especially with the taxidermy Longhorn head above the bar and the “cowboy” style of practically everything hanging on the walls. Although it wasn’t quite the most miserable place you’d even been, it certainly felt like a little more than just a healthy appreciation.

“Home away from home, right lass?” Soap’s devilish grin only made the wound sting your pride that much more.

"Ya know... actually, not one bit." You answer a bit awestruck and looking around the place with bated breath and the hope that it wouldn't get much worse than it already was.

To your irritation, it got worse. Much worse.

After getting seated by an -obviously- British woman forced to fake a deep and southern drawl, you were all handed menus that named off the most "popular" foods in the Southern United States that not only made you chuckle out loud with disbelief but actually voice the total inaccuracies of certain dishes that the men sitting around you actually thought were legitimate staple items.

"You actually eat rattlesnakes often?" Gaz thought it was a bit far off since he spent quite a bit of time in his service in South Carolina, but thought he'd clarify with you anyway.

"For Christ's sake, Garrick. No!" You roll your eyes, taking a drink of the iced sweet tea you were actually shocked to see was listed as a drink option.

That in itself was the largest contention point with Ghost who stared at you with an iron-clad will of hatred seeing you pleasantly drinking iced sweet tea like you were enjoying the abomination. To his horror, you were quick to compliment that they'd actually gotten it pretty close to how you made it yourself or people at home did.

"What is a pecan pie?" Captain Price was quick to question the dessert menu before a waitress had even come back around to take main course orders.

His question sounded somewhat confused and downright scandalized at the same time. And to be honest, you really didn't know how to explain that it was simply a pie with corn syrup and brown sugar-based sweet filling, covered with pecans that were baked in a regular pie shell. You attempted to describe the basic ingredients and how it was made to the table of interested men, only to have them all stare in guarded horror... Save for Gaz. He'd actually tried it while in the States and said he'd enjoyed it. Luckily he was on your side for that particular topic.

The men as a whole hilariously didn't order anything that you -or they- considered uniquely "Texan" or "American". Soap insisted that you pick a meal that sounded the most authentic to you and that they would try some of the food off of your plate. Of course, the idea sounded good to them, but you weren't sure you wanted to share a plate of food that could possibly be decently "American" when it would still be months before you could go back home.

You folded quickly and picked a meal that you believed would be safe enough to keep them from being outwardly horrified with you but would still be interesting to compare to the meals you grew up with at home. The most simple and safe option was what they called the 'Home Run Special', most certainly a knock-off of the American chain breakfast restaurant. It came with pancakes, fried eggs, bacon, biscuits, sausage gravy, grits, and hashbrowns.

When the platter came out, you were pleasantly surprised at the look of everything, seeing as it visually had promise and even smelled just about right as well. With one glance around the table, you saw every single man staring at the three-plate meal sitting in front of you and couldn't believe that all of that food was supposedly for one person. That comment alone did make you laugh. It was one thing that you weren't afraid to admit. You could eat a whole lot. And it was a family thing that you never could be shy to not own up to. Eating all of that breakfast to them might've seemed totally unacceptable, yet for you, it looked very accomplishable, given the food tasted good. They each wanted you to give your own personal opinions before they tried anything and watched you intently for any sign of your acceptance or lack thereof.

By the end of the meal, the men had all tried everything and had mixed opinions of what they thought was actually good or not. You believed the biscuits and gravy were totally garbage and vowed that you could make them better, and wouldn't even allow them to taste them for fear of cementing an even more concrete belief that biscuits weren't meant to be savory. They were half-and-half on the bacon, some saying it was really good while others complained it wasn't enough meat for so much grease. You... were quite pleased. Eggs were fine, they all didn't really pay them much mind, while the grits were such a contested topic that you weren't sure if they lost respect for you since you finished the entire serving.

"Although I've enjoyed the majority of the food and I was surprised with it... this isn't anything legitimate." You mutter with a full stomach, looking around the place and beginning to feel a little more homesick than you thought such a tacky pub could produce.

Soap, who was finishing off your pancakes nudged your shoulder a little and smiled. "You'll have to take me home with ya. Then I ken' really find out why ye' think Texas is so damn special."

"You have to take me home with you too Johnny," You take the fork out of his hand and eat one more bite of pancakes. "So I can see if God blessed Scotland, too."

Reblogs & Comments are Appreciated

#john soap mactavish #johnny soap mactavish #sergeant #soap #call of duty #modern warfare ii #cod mw2 #mwii #soap x reader #soap mactavish x reader #johnny soap mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish x reader

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farfromstrange · 1 year

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just read ‘long distance’ and i was wondering if you could serve pain? jen walters was mentioned and reader exists, that means angst and maybe cheating (or even a hint of it?) please??? i love your fluff and smut pieces. also the angst (but i dont dwell too much since self harming is better left in the past for me) but i really like how you deliver pain. i hope this gets chosen and written, but no pressure ofc. thank you and may the spirit of creativity live within you.

Hi, nonnie! I'm sorry you had to wait so long. I wasn't sure if you wanted a part 2 or an entirely new fic, so I kind of used part of what I already mentioned in Long Distance and continued in this fic. I didn't do full-on cheating, but it's still angst, and well... there is no comfort. I hope you like it!

Burn | Matt Murdock x Reader

Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader

Summary: Matt comes home after his work trip and tells you something that changes your life forever.

Warnings: Angst, mentions of Smut, cheating

Word Count: 2.7k

You’re not sure what happened.

Matt spent a few weeks in Los Angeles to work on a case that would bring in some money. You didn’t mind; he does it sometimes. Since he, Foggy, and Karen opened the doors of their law firm again, work trips between the three have become more frequent. They’re making money now, and you would always support it.

You have also never been insecure about your relationship with him before. You and Matt have been together for years, even before the Blip, and you held onto each other when all of your friends disappeared. You thought you were happy. His job is going well; you are happy and don’t have to live paycheck by paycheck anymore. At least you thought so.

While he was away, you talked over the phone regularly. He always seemed so relieved to hear your voice. You often talked for hours, and you texted him sweet nothings during the day. He told you he appreciated it.

Every other night, you would retreat to your bedroom and he would guide you to orgasm after orgasm with the sound of his voice, and you would do the same. The toy he got you before he left for LA came in handy more than once since you could be connected over the distance now and still somehow control each other’s pleasure.

When he texted you he would be home earlier than expected, you were so excited, you took the day off, put on your best lingerie, and cooked dinner. You thought he would be happy to be with you again; he told you how much he missed you. He compared it very dramatically to a lack of air and that you were his oxygen, and you remember laughing at him. You have never loved a man as much as you love Matt Murdock, so it is only natural for you to get excited, right?

You talked about marriage before, maybe even kids. You planned a future together. Deep down, you’ve been waiting for him to pop the question. Foggy is an idiot and he let something slip one day, and ever since you have been vigilant. You thought that he might finally ask you after coming home from his trip.

You thought. That seemed to be the common denominator. You always just believe and hope for the best; in the end, things don’t turn out how you want them to.

You’re really not sure what happened, but something did happen because when Matt opens the door, he’s not even smiling at you.

“Welcome back!” you greet him with the brightest smile you can offer. Maybe he’s just tired.

But you know him and you know the difference between exhaustion and guilt; the man before you may be tired, but he is also struggling with the shame he inflicted upon himself, and it is not his duty as Daredevil this time.

He drops his bag by the door. You lean in for a kiss. “How was your flight?” you ask.

You’re in denial. Something happened, but you don’t want to ruin it. You don’t want to ruin this. You keep telling yourself it’s going to be okay, but you just don’t know what happened to get you here–

He evades your lips, simply hugging you briefly before answering, “Good.”

Your body trembles. “Matt.”

“What?”

“What’s wrong?”

“What do you mean, what’s wrong?” he retorts. He moves to the kitchen and grabs himself a bottle of beer. “I’m just tired.”

You frown. “Is that why you can’t even look at me?” you ask.

“Don’t be ridiculous, sweetheart–” the usually so endearing nickname sounds so bitter now. “You know I can’t see,” he says.

“You know what I mean.” You cross your arms. “Something isn’t right.”

His expression is serious, and it sends a wave of unease crashing over you. You try to push away the worry that gnaws at your insides, but it's hard to ignore the change in his demeanor.

He avoids your gaze, his eyes flickering around the room as if searching for something, or perhaps, avoiding something. Silence hangs heavy in the air, stretching the seconds into eternity.

That’s when you know that something happened, and it affects you because if it didn’t, he wouldn’t be so distant toward you. You taught him to always be open with you about his struggles, and he has managed to learn how to voice his needs, so it confuses you when he does neither and treats you more like a stranger than his girlfriend.

There was only one time in your relationship he acted this way and that was the day Elektra stepped back into his life, and with it, yours.

Your stomach churns. The hope you had built up crumbles, leaving a bitter taste in your mouth. “What happened?” you urge again.

He leans against the kitchen counter, turning his head away from you. Tears are glistening in his eyes behind his red glasses.

“Matthew, please,” you beg. “Talk to me. Tell me!”

The room feels heavy with tension. His shoulders slump, and for a moment, it seems like he's about to break, to let the words spill forth. But just as quickly, he straightens his posture and averts his gaze.

"I can't," he whispers. "I can't tell you."

You step forward, but he shies away as if being close to you is somehow toxic. It breaks your heart. He looks disgusted, and you wonder if it's because of you. Maybe you used the wrong body wash, but that would elicit a different reaction. You didn't do anything differently today, you're simply excited, that's all there is, but as you look at him, he seems to be the exact opposite. Stoic, empty, cold...

“We've always been honest with each other, Matt," you say, still walking up to him even as he recoils. "I cooked dinner for you, took a shower, got dressed... and now you won't even fucking try and look at me. You've been gone for weeks! Please, just... I deserve to know what's going on." You reach for him, but this time, he moves away wholly.

The distance between you becomes a void that you could easily slip in and drown. His body language is a storm, causing the waves to crash into the shore and choke up with their cruel claws.

His grip tightens around the neck of the beer bottle, his knuckles turning white. You can see the faintest scars; you know he brought his suit with him, you just didn't think he would actually use it. "You deserve better," he says, more to himself than to you. There is the guilt you have been waiting for, but it still affects you because he is talking about you.

Your heart skips a beat. You have had this conversation many times in the past. "Better?" you ask. "Matt, what are you talking about? I don't want better, I want you." You laugh in disbelief, but he doesn't even smile. He's not trying to hide how much pain he is from the weight of his guilt, and it makes you scared for what's about to come.

His gaze flickers toward you, and his eyes reflect myriad emotions—sadness, regret, and something else you can't quite place. "You shouldn't want me," he loathes himself, “Not after... not after everything."

"What?" You place a hand on his arm, forcing him to turn to you. "I love you," you say.

He shakes his head. He never shakes his head when you tell him you love him. It's like he's telling you the opposite, that you shouldn't love him or that he doesn't feel the same for you anymore; the feelings swirling in your chest are confusing, and you just don't understand. Your mind races, trying to connect the dots, desperate to make sense of his cryptic words.

His grip on the bottle loosens, and he takes a shaky breath. "I- I fucked up."

Your heart sinks. The pain you had sensed, the distance between you, it all falls into place. The parallel between his behavior now and back when Elektra almost tore you apart. The pieces of the puzzle form a picture you never wanted to see find their way together.

"Did you... cheat on me?" you ask, the words catching in your throat. The mere thought feels like a knife twisting in your chest, but you don't cry, you simply stare at him, waiting for any kind of reaction.

It's the thought you loathe the most, but you seem to hit the nail right on the head.

Matt's silence is confirmation enough. "Oh God," you breathe.

“It was just a kiss,” he whispers.

“A– you kissed someone else?”

“Yeah.”

“Walters?”

He takes a shaky sip of his drink.

“Oh, my God, Matthew!” The cork to your heart pops and you start bleeding out, it seems. “What?” you ask. “Please, tell me you’re just messing with me. Please!” You want to get on your knees and pray to God that he’s lying, but he’s so quiet and his face is so stern, you can’t help but believe him.

The one thing he promised you he would never do, he did. And that is something you once told him that if he ever did it, you wouldn’t be able to forgive him.

The foundation of trust you had built with Matt feels shattered, and you struggle to comprehend how he could break his promise to you. Emotions swirl within you, colliding with one another, leaving you feeling lost and vulnerable.

He grabs your hand suddenly when you try to put some distance between you to sort your thoughts, his glasses now discarded, and he looks past you with so much pain in his eyes, you can feel your own tears near. He whispers your name.

“No,” you say. “I can’t–”

“Please, listen to me. I can explain,” Matt says. “I can–”

“You can’t! You promised… I– wasn’t I good enough for you? What happened, Matthew? What did I do wrong?”

“Nothing! You did nothing wrong, sweetheart. Please, it was a stupid mistake.”

“A mistake?”

He tugs at your arm again. When you don’t seem to budge, he sinks to his knees. Your throat tightens, your heart shattering on the floor next to him. He has torn it out with his bare hands, squeezed it too hard and now you’re nothing more than an empty shell, your very essence broken on the living room floor.

“Please,” he begs. His hands rest on your hips and his unfocused eyes try to search for yours.

The fact he only now thinks he has to fight for you instead of coming clear right away makes you angry, not just sad. You turned your back and that’s what prompted him to fight, even though he should have tried so much sooner.

You loved him with all you had, and a foolish part of you still does, but hearing the words coming out of his mouth that he betrayed your trust in such a cruel way tears down the walls you have been seeing through rose-colored glasses and cut your love for him into pieces with a sharp dagger.

Your best friend once told you that you should be careful, Matt would do anything to survive. Yet, you stayed around through the sleepless nights and the heartache. You worried about him every day and every night he went out as Daredevil to cleanse the streets, and you stitched him up without knowing what you were doing. You held him as he cried, offered him your endless support, and then some more, anything just to be loved by him, but he treated you so well. He gave you everything you needed, showed you a love no one has before and he was so dedicated, you felt at home with him. You trusted him with your life. You owe him your life, and yet, after everything you have been through together, one work trip to another State is all it takes for him to throw away years of history and kiss someone else? And Jennifer Walters, no less?

You never thought you had to be worried about anyone catching Matt’s attention. You had been so confident before, but now? Now you just feel useless, imperfect, and like a damn fool.

“Matt,” you whimper.

He holds on even tighter. “Can we talk about this?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

You look up, but the tears are flowing freely now.

“I’m sorry. Please, I don’t want to lose you. I love you so fucking much, baby. Please! I can’t live without you. Don’t leave me. I can make it up to you, I promise, just… give me another chance.”

“Yeah?” It pains you to tear his hands from your body, but you have to. “If you didn’t want to lose me,” you say, “you should have thought about it before you decided to kiss someone else.”

He says your name, begging you once again to just stay. Talk this through. Stay. He is like a serpent in your ear, and you want nothing more than to give in, but when you reflect on your time together, you don’t know if you should even think about giving in.

Matt has been obsessed with justice from the start. He chose it over you more than once, and it took you many nights and many fights for you to get him to stay even for a night or two to be with you, the person he claimed to love most of all. And now you are supposed to stay after he did what he did? It may be stupid to react this way if it was just a kiss, but he never once said it was accidental, and that means he has thought about cheating on you. He kissed someone else, someone who isn’t you, and he set your heart on fire the same way he has set your life together alight.

Maybe he kissed her because she’s like him–maybe he kissed Jennifer Walters because she understands, and he has often accused you of not understanding. Maybe in her, he has found someone who won’t keep him from New York City just for one date night. Maybe in her, he has found someone who doesn’t break down crying when he comes home late because she thinks he died in a fight with a criminal. And maybe in her, he has found the woman he actually wants to marry.

Marry. The word makes you choke up.

As if he read your thoughts, he crawls toward you and stops you from walking away. He digs his fingers further into your hips, retrieving a small box from his pants, and God, do you want to punch him right now.

You were right about the proposal, but he was planning to propose and still kissed someone else, and that is a betrayal on a whole new level.

“The audacity,” you whisper to yourself.

Tears are streaming down his face and he looks as if he thinks pulling out a ring after telling you he made out (no, kissed) with Jennifer Walters in Los Angeles is going to fix everything.

“Please,” he begs, “I only want you. I wanted to ask you–”

“No,” you cut him off. “Don’t you fucking dare, Matthew!” You pull away. “This is… I’ve been waiting for you to do this for so long, but you… what the fuck? No! Especially not now!” Your body Wracks with a sob. “I need time, and I can’t do this right now. Kissing Walters is one thing, but telling me you bought a ring for me and still kissed someone else? It hurts,” you say.

It hurts too fucking much, you can’t breathe. He was your oxygen too, in a way, but he has cut off the supply and now you are dying a slow and agonizing death.

“I’m so sorry.” His arms drop to his sides in defeat, but he remains on his knees. “I never meant to hurt you,” Matt cries, “I promise! I just… I made a mistake.”

“I’m sorry, too.”

“I–“

“I’m sorry for falling in love with you. That was my mistake.”

Ouch. Now you have taken his heart, pulled it out and shattered it with one twist of your wrist. But he deserves it.

Matt listens to the sound of your hasty movements as you pack some clothes. He listens to your tears, your sobs, and the shaking of your muscles as you shudder. He listens and stays right there on the floor, his head lowered as God’s judgment comes upon him.

And within minutes, your heartbeat leaves his ears and you are gone.

You left him, and he deserves every last ounce of pain it inflicts on him.

He’s an Icarus who has flown too close to the sun, and you deserve better than him.

It wasn’t Jennifer who brought him back to life, it was you and it will always be you, but he screwed that up, too, and he has to live with it now. Without you.

The ring box slips from his hands and then, he allows himself to break down.

Matt Murdock Angst Tag List: @acharliecoxedfan @gpenguin666 @lina-mar @itwasthereaminuteago @mattkinsella @norestfortheshelbywicked @yarrystyleeza @littlenerdyravenclaw @thychuvaluswife

#matt murdock #daredevil #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock imagines #matt murdock x f!reader #matt murdock x you #no y/n #matt murdock angst #human disaster matt murdock #request

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brooooswriting · 1 year

Note

Heyyyy I finally got an idea (⁠╥⁠﹏⁠╥⁠)

It again Mafia Au since I liked the prev one so much shshshhshshs.

Buuuuut this time it's an enemies to lovers.

R and J's gangs have a rivalry for wtvr reason.

But when J and her groopies gets captured by another gang (too many gangs) one of jens dudes who fled the scene came to R for help.

After a while she went and got her rival back (and the others ಠ⁠∀⁠ಠ)

Maybe R patching up Jenna, them getting together? only if you want. though

Again if this makes you uncomfortable pls delete or ignore this

Thank you broko loco

I hope you have a wonderful day

I love your requests 🫶🏻

Small heads up: I still don’t know anything about the mafia so this kinda sucks soooorrrrryyyy.

Also I figured out that Mafia stories aren’t really my thing, they just aren’t as good because I don’t know shit about it

Changes

Jenna Ortega x reader

The mafia was something you grew up in, as a small kid you lost your dad. Your mom didn’t have a lot of money, you were about to live on the street when someone swoop in and decided to help you. He was a friend of your dads, his death hit him nearly as much as it hit you guys so he decided to take you in. It was how your family got into the mafia thing.

18 years later you were second leader of the group, after your second dad. He thought you everything, how to use guns, the codes of the mafia and how to earn yourself respect in a group of men.

This was also how you met the Ortegas, leader of one of the other biggest Mafia groups around. You were taught to despise them and honestly you got why, they were arrogant, it was impossible to talk to them and they were unfriendly. Your group also had its flaws, that’s for sure, but there was no way that you were this bad. Sure, sometimes you guys were a bit stubborn but you were always willing to help, or at least most of the time, and it was always possible to talk to you.

The rivalry with the other group went from verbal fights to physical fights in open spaces or bars. Nobody has ever been killed but people were hurt to the point where it was a close call. Sometimes you wish for the fights and the rivalry to end but then their first and second leader showed up, being all snappy and up on their high horse because they had a lot of money and suddenly you were back to understanding why you had these fights.

Every once in a while on a blue moon you met Jenna, daughter of the leader of your rivals, in a bar. If you were both alone you’d sit next to each other and drink in silence for a while, then you’d talk for a minute before a weird tension builds between you two which is the moment the conversation turns into a fight and you guys part.

You were sitting in a cafe one of your members had as a side hustle, it was nice, kinda cute with lights and plants everywhere, coffee and cake, just like any other pastry were great. You were doing some work, looking for your own side hustle and drinking some iced coffee when a friend of yours came in. “It’s been quiet lately hasn’t it? I mean like suspiciously quiet” he said as he sat next to you, stealing a piece of your cake. “What are you talking about?” You mumbled as you kept scrabbling down numbers, “the Ortegas. No fight in 3 days, nobody of us has seen any of them. You have been home from the bar early yesterday which means that miss Ortega wasn’t there like she normally was” he explained, and it suddenly clicked. He was right, she wasn’t there yesterday and nobody came running to you about how someone was beaten up again. “Well, maybe they finally backed off” you answered as if you didn’t care where the girl was. “Oh, be honest. You were sad that she wasn’t there” he teased earning himself an elbow to the ribs. “Shut up and get going, I still have work to do” by now he has eaten your cake, drank half of your coffee and destroyed your order. “Alright, if you wanna lie to me” he grinned before disappearing.

Two days later and nothing happened with the Ortegas again, they were nowhere to be seen and nobody heard anything. You also hadn’t seen Jenna for a while now.

———————————————————————————

“Go and get us out of here” mister Ortega whispered towards one of his newbies who managed to escape the handcuffs and ropes. “Who am I supposed to get?!” He whispered back, “just anyone” he looked around anxiously. “I don’t know anyone, I’m new and nobody listens to me. The only one I know is y/n y/l/n” he said and started creeping away a bit. “No! Everyone but them” the leader scream whispered, “just get anyone to get us out of here. Damnit” Jenna said and ended the discussion with that.

———————————————————————————

It was rather late, you were in a bar playing billiard with the owner. It was only you, the owner, your dad Marc and about four other members when somebody entered. “We are closed” the owner said as soon as the door squeaked, when there was no response you finally looked up. “Owen?” You asked as you saw the smaller man, “I-we need help” he mumbled out as he walked further towards you. It was the first time you could take a good look at him, he had some bruises in his face and was covered in blood. “Who needs help?” One of the members asked, “the Ortega group. We-We were captured, I could escape but I can’t get them out alone, please” he pleaded looking at you. “No! We are not going. It’s their own business” Marc said causing you to gasp, “Marc” you started but he interrupted you, “no. We are rivals. We are not going to save them” Owen stood between you, unsure of what to do or what to say. “You took me in back then, you took my mother in. You told me you did it because everybody deserves a chance. Where is their chance?!” You asked, stomping onto the ground like a little kid. “They had their chance y/n! We tried to make peace. So no, we are not going. Nowhere. They brought themselves into it, they can get theirselves out of it!” He raised his voice, towering in front of you. It was something you rarely did, probably never but the way he stood there looking down at you made you uncomfortable.

But if this man taught you one thing, it was to never back down if you really believe in something. “If you aren’t going then I am” you said looking him straight in the eyes. “This is my gang y/l/n and I say we are not going” he said, his voice dangerously calm. “Then I’m going alone. You don’t have any control over me” you answered and stepped away from him to get a warm coffee for Owen.

You sat on a bench further away talking about what happened, “mister Ortega said that they are from downtown, something about them wanting to form one gang and something about a marriage but his daughter didn’t wanna marry their son. So they chose whatever this is. Y/n, I wasn’t made for this. I didn’t know it would be this hard” he explained, his hands shaking spilling some of the coffee. The thing about Jenna made your heart stop. “Give me an address and about 30 minutes. I’ll figure something out but we definitely need more people.”

So Owen gave you an address, you called one member and he send you a map of the building. “I think I have a plan” you called out, Owen immediately scooting closed. “It’s going to be extremely hard but we may be able to do it together” you started when suddenly somebody scooted in next to you. “You would really risk your life to save them?” Marc asked you as he looked down onto the plan you made. “For these unfriendly and arrogant assholes?” You nodded not daring to look at the man, scarred that you’d see the disappointment you feared would appear. “Well then, let’s call the rest” he smiled warmly with his arm around you shoulder.

He called the rest and you explained the plan. It wasn’t really a plan by now, storm the thing act like you guys were one gang and then fuck off again. “We are trying to set an example so no fights with the Ortegas!” He said before grabbing his gun and walking towards the car.

It took about 25 minutes to get there, you didn’t even try to be discreet about it, you wanted them to know that you were there. After 10 minutes you found the hostages, they were tied together. Mister Ortega looked the worst, he had open wounds, a broken leg where you could see the bone and he had bruises all over his body. You looked through the whole place but Jenna was nowhere to be found, “where is she?!” You asked her father as you pulled the gag out and untied him, “I don’t know. They took her, we couldn’t do anything” he was too weak to even stand alone. “Y/n, we have someone screaming over here” Marc called out causing you to immediately sprint towards them. The screams that came from the other side of the door made your heart clench. “We gotta go in there” you said, pulling out your gun. You kicked in the door and stepped to the side letting the others flood the room, there were around 4 shots and a like two screams, both male before you entered the room. One of yours guys was shot in the arm and the guy in front Jenna was from the other group, he was laying in front of the girl holding his stomach. You guessed that the rest of the shots didn’t hit anybody. Then your eyes finally fell onto the petite girl, her body was bloody, her nose broken and her left eye bruised, there was a cut just above her check bone and one over her eyebrow. Tears streamed down her face, rolling over the cut one her lip. Her hands were bound behind the chair and her legs were bound to a leg of the chair. She yelped out a sigh of relief when her eyes fell onto you.

You had to take a second to calm yourself before you finally walked towards her, pulling the gag out of her mouth just like you did with her father minutes ago. Pulling a pocket knife out you cut through the tape that bound her hands and legs together finally freeing her. She was still panicking and immediately stood up looking around hastily. Not even 10 seconds later her legs gave out, luckily you stood behind her and were quick to catch her. “Careful, your das seems to be okay. My guys are getting him fixed and now we need to fix you” you told her and wrapped an arm around her waist to try and support her to walk but it was no use. “I’m gonna carry you okay?” You asked her and as soon as she nodded you swooped her up, carrying her bridal style into the car. You sat in the backseat with her.

“How do you always get into stupid shit like this? You guys, all of you, could have died!” You said looking out of the window, “for real? So this is our fault?” She asked clearly pissed but you were too. “If you guys werent arrogant and wouldn’t always show how much money you have it would be possible that this didn’t happen?” She rolled her eyes but kept quiet which scared you. You looked over scanning her face, her head was leaning against the headrest with her eyes closed. There was blood coming thru her shirt and her hands were still shaking.

“Come on, let’s get you out od here. We need to take care of your wounds” and that’s what you did. You carried her out of the car and into the house where you cleaned to wounds on her face. As carefully as possible you cleaned up the dried blood and everything else before putting band aids on the cuts. “The cuts are taken care of, so you have any wounds somewhere else?” You ask as you throw the wrappers away. She shyly pulled her shirt up, which was weird because she was normally really overconfident. There were some cuts and some bruises, “I’ll clean the cuts, once the doc is done with your dad he’s going to look at the bruises alright? Don’t wanna risk Internal bleeding” you told her and disinfected the cuts. Your phone blinged, “your dad is alright. They had to bring him to the hospital to take care of his leg but other than that he has a small concussion. He will be completely fine” she smiled at you and pulled you into a hug which surprised you but you hugged her back nonetheless. “Thank you. For saving us and looking out for me” she mumbled into your neck and then you suddenly felt tears streaming down your neck. You tightened your arms that were wrapped around her waist, trying to give her comfort.

You hugged in silence for a while, then you pulled away and whipped the tears away too. “Dad didn’t think that you’d come, I know that we don’t have the best relationship but when Owen said that he only knew you I knew that we’d be safe. And I finally wanna do something about that damn tension” she rambled, her sentences weren’t really connected but it was cute. You liked her like this, it was the real her. And while you thought about how cute she was when she rambled she surged forward and pressed her lips to yours. You were quick to reciprocate the kiss, your hand on her cheek.

“Y/n, I’m here to look after … oh” the doc came inside causing you to break apart. “Oh, no. It’s fine. Come on check her out, I wanna be sure she’s fine” you smiled at her softly, a smile nobody has ever seen. “So an arranged marriage to form two gangs into one? What year is it? 1750?” You laughed out while the doc pressed onto her stomach. “I feel terrible about it. If I had agreed none of this would have happened”she sighed sadly, you grabbed her hand and shook your head. “No, that’s not true. It would have happened anyway and now you’re at least free. Which means that I can take you on a date right?” You smiled which made her smile too. “Yeah, let’s do it. I will give my dad a heart attack but hey” she laughed out causing you to grin. When the doc was done he told you that she was fine. “So how about I cook something as a first date?” You asked her making your way to the freezer to grab her something that she could press onto her bruised eye. “Or we could go to your guys bar? I’m in desperate need of a drink and I kinda just want your comfort, and you can’t do that when you’re cooking” the way she talked so shyly made your heart beat faster. Without another word you stretched your hand out for her to take. You grabbed your keys and drove her to the bar where you ordered drinks and food.

“Gosh, I’m so tired” she mumbled and rested her head on your shoulder. Without a second thought you kissed her forehead and grabbed her hand, your thumb stroking circles on the back of her hand. “I’m gonna get you home, you should sleep” you whispered into her hair. “You’re really sweet” she mumbled and pressed a chaste kiss to your lips, followed by some more. When you parted you saw Marc and mister Ortega starring at you. “Are you guys trying to kill us?” Marc asked, holding a hand over his chest while Mister Ortega just had his mouth open. “Well, we are going home so if you guys die do it outside, I don’t want my bar to smell like death” you said before standing up and pulling the young Ortega with you. “Wanna sleep over tonight?” You asked her as you started the car, she immediately nodded.

That night you laid in bed, cuddled up with Jenna in your arms. Something you didn’t really imagine would happen anytime soon. “What does this make us?” You asked her, unsure of yourself, “oh wow, the big y/n y/l/n wants to talk about what we are?” She grinned and turned around in your arms. “Let’s talk about this tomorrow okay? I’m so tired” she kissed you again before laying her head on your chest and falling asleep.

You’d talk about it tomorrow. Then you could figure out what you’d do about the rivalry and about the gangs. It would work out in the end. Right?

#reader insert #brooooswriting #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x y/n

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deepperplexity · 10 months

Text

Prompt: 10. Snow Prints

Pairing: Colonel Brandon x Fem!OC

POV: First, OC

Setting: Christmas Market in Town -> The Lake -> Dashwood Home (Not exactly following cannon, moving the time to winter and the manner Brandon visits the Dashwoods for the first time.)

A/N: I thought we’d take a little tiny break from the serial fics - I do feel I need a breath as it takes way more to write several serials at the same time than one shots (for me) 😂 Also, Brandon seems to be very loved this year, so thought I’d give him some more screen time so to say 🥰

I have perhaps spent too much time on this fic but it ended up flowing and turning into this 5k piece - anyway, I really hope you’ll have a splendid time reading this! We are nearing the middle of Rickmas2023 and I feel good about having been able to post at a decent time every day so far 😍👏 (Let’s hope I can keep it up all the way through 👀😂)

Tags/TW’s: Instant Infatuation, Forehead Kisses, Hand Holding, Accidental Meeting, Unintentional Invasion Of Emotional Privacy, Self Derogatory Thoughts, Classicism, Nicknames, Mutual Pining, Confessions Of Adoration/Love, Implied Future Marriage, Slighty Sassy OC, Chivalry, Poverty Hints,

Word Count: 5k+

LINKTREE // AO3 // MASTERLIST

Mrs Jennings laughed by a market stand down the busy street, Margaret squeezed my hand and I could not quite keep a smile from spreading across my lips as she giggled up at me. “She never stops, does she?” Margaret asked with that childlike twinkle in her eye. “I’m afraid not, Maggie,” I chuckled. “She means well, but I do think Miss Markle is quite over her matchmaking attempts, as most of us are.” “Well, you are free of it,” Margaret said with happiness, not knowing the knife it twisted within me. “Indeed, lucky me,” I said as happily as I could. Knowing full well she held little interest of pairing lowly me with anyone at all.

I was an orphan, a mere child-tender for the Dashwoods before Mr Dashwood passed and left the family in ruin - in every manner. Now I was a burden on the kind family, allowed to live with them and dine after them in exchange for not only taking care of Margaret but cleaning and tending to every manner of household chore whenever needed, teaching the child to read and write, to interpret texts as well. No pay given, but a roof over my head and food in my stomach. It was more than I could ask for given the circumstances.

“Mellie,” Mrs Dashwood called, “go buy us some mistletoes and meet us at home!” “Right away, ma’am!” I called back, squeezing Margaret’s hand before ushering her toward one of her older sisters. I trodded off, heading down the market street with vendors filling the space and air with shouts of prices and smells of Christmas. I weaved through the crowd, well-versed in not being in the way.

I found the right vendor and purchased the holly for the Dashwoods, laying them atop the bread and carrots in my basket before turning about. My eyes caught sight of a brilliantly red coat with black and golden details. It stood out in the throng of greys, browns, whites and beige clothes, none as brightly coloured — not even the greens and blues, all in muted saturation. A man of the military? My eyes slid upward only for my breath to catch. He was stunning in profile. Older, with slightly peculiar features — like his hooked nose and thin lips — but more handsome than any other man I had ever laid eyes upon. His grave features and remote manner of looking only made his features shine brighter in the afternoon sun which made the snow glisten on the rooftops.

I stood stock still in the middle of the street, a messenger boy ran right into me, knocking my basket out of my hand — breaking the spell I had been under by the man. I hurried to pick up the greenery, the cloth-wrapped bread, and frost-bit carrots, before scurrying away, throwing one final glance back before entering one of many narrow alleys. His eyes appeared to see me for a second before I turned and hurried away from the market. No matter how handsome the man was, or how my heart had stuttered at his appearance, he was no man for me. I was all too aware of it.

I held on tightly to the basket, the day was beautiful and with the bright sun and lack of wind I managed to keep warm. I sped up my steps as I cleared the town’s border, crossing over a field to take a shortcut through the woods beyond; then it would only be a matter of two more fields to cross, a small hill to hike up, and I would be home once more. I didn’t mind walking through the snow, the boots Mrs Jennings had given me upon winters arrival were far too big but allowed for three pairs of socks which kept me plenty warm as long as I moved about. I was thankful for her gift, even if it were only for them being too small for her but too big for anyone else to wear, and with their shafts reaching nearly to my knees no snow slunk within them even if I pulsed through it at the moment.

I reached the woods, feeling a need to look back toward the town where I had seen the handsome man I was sure to never see again. Even if no man ever finds me to his liking I can at the very least allow the oddity of daydreaming of it to keep me happy, should I not have at least that? I squinted against the direct sunlight as it sank, bathing the sky in orange and pink only making the glittering snow look further magical with the twinkling light of lanterns and candles coming from the town. “A military man, perhaps that would be a grand life.” Not that I shall ever know it for real.

I half giggled to myself, enjoying my little daydream where the man in red would smile sweetly at me and marvelled at the quietly spectacular view. It was interrupted when something came barrelling across the field, someone atop a horse riding at the utmost speed with snow spraying about them yet I could not see any details with the last bit of sun glaring me in the eye and turning them into nothing but a shadow.

I thought little of it, many cut across the field to return home, so I turned and kept walking while wondering what voice would belong to the man in red — a commanding one, an assured one, a powerful one. I could not imagine a man who looked like he had to speak in any meek or bright fashion. No, no a most strong voice ought to belong to such a gentleman.

“Miss!” I spun around in haste at the dark rumble of a call that was somehow heard so clearly. “Miss!” the man called again and I raised a hand to cover my eyes from the sun. My heart stuttered as the man in red came barrelling towards me, his giant black steed’s hooves made the snow spray in magical waves of sparkles all around him.

He halted the horse with great skill, going from a gallop to a near-complete halt in a mere two steps. “Miss,” he said again, his voice a rumble which seemed to shake my insides. “Y-yes?” I asked, bowing my head while curtsying deeply. The thud of feet hitting the snow-covered ground rang out and I looked up. He was a head taller than me, his shoulders stiffly held and his back utterly straight. He looked every bit a stoic gentleman as he inclined his head before reaching out his hand, holding a mistletoe.

“Sir, I— What is this?” I asked while looking between the man who made my heart run rampant and the greenery in his glove-clad hand. “You left this behind, miss.” “Oh… oh!” I rummaged around my basket and indeed, there were only seven when there ought to have been eight of them. “Thank you, sir. I apologize for the trouble you went through for such a small thing.” My cheeks nearly seemed to burn as he handed it over while I spoke and then secured the mistletoe under the towel covering the basket.

The man looked at me, his eyes sweet but his features stoic. “It was no bother, miss. I merely followed the snow prints.” But, I left none behind until I reached the field? “I’m grateful for your kindness and effort, sir.” “Colonel Brandon, miss. At your service,” he said and placed his closed fist atop his chest before bowing slightly. “Melinda Merryweather,” I replied, endeavouring to keep my cheeks from burning up under his stare. “Beautiful Honeybee,” he said in a quiet drone and my eyes widened. “Excuse me, sir?” “Oh, no, miss, your name. Melinda, of Latin origin, meaning sweet. Constructed of mel, meaning honeybee, and Linda, meaning beautiful.”

I was not proud of it, but I gawked at the man. He knew more about my name than me myself. I had been aware of the Latin origin but the meaning of it had never been told to me. “My mother did have a fondness for the buzzing creatures, they fill an important role after all.” “Indeed,” the man said, “there would be little in terms of flowers without them.” “Oh, I was referring to food, Colonel Brandon. Flowers are pretty though.” “Their honey?” “No, they pollinate far more than flowers,” I continued, the education I had been given as a child tender to the Dashwoods far beyond any I would have had in another situation. “You are a woman of education.” “Oh, no, sir. I have merely been most lucky as a tender of children for the lovely Dashwood family.”

I did my utmost to speak calmly, but my entire body seemed caught on fire, the flames growing stronger with each second in his company. Talking is not my issue, remaining silent is. I’m certain he sees me as a know-it-all by now. “Luck plays a grand part in life. I admit, it has not been so graceful to me until now.” “Oh? You appear a most lucky man, sir.” “I shall not ruin said image of me for you, Miss Melinda Merryweather.” What to say to such a statement?

I had no need to think of it though, the man bowed and mounted his steed once more. My heart skipped a beat as he turned the horse about. “Thank you again, Colonel Brandon,” I said and he smiled at me, my skin burned and my breath caught as the last sunlight left the world but it seemed all the brighter when he smiled. “I wish you the best, beautiful honeybee,” he said with a sudden softness to his features and put his horse into motion, setting off in a rushed gallop without looking back once while my heart seemed to race at the same pace as the black horse.

Never had I met a man such as him. He was different, in the most sweet and good manner. I ended up watching him gallop back to town, I simply couldn’t make myself leave before he was gone. Strange sensations filled my chest and the heavy basket in my hand suddenly felt light in comparison to the weight of the newness, or, perhaps it was the knowledge a man such as him were not meant for me. For someone like me. A colonel had little business with a child tender turned into some form of a maid and teacher of reading and writing out of the goodness of my employer of many years. As much as warmth for the man bloomed within me, a sense of hopeless longing grew as well.

***

“I’ll only be an hour!” I called toward the little sitting room where Marianne and Elinor sat, one embroidering and one playing on the forte, while I slipped my boots over the many layers of socks I had adorned. I loved Marianne’s music, and voice, not blessed with either skill myself. Books, poetry, and stories lay me far closer to the heart though.

Reading, writing, and weaving stories of my own were my pleasures. My loves. And the past week my poetry had turned longing and somewhat sappy, to be truthful. I needed a moment with nature, to take a breath and rid my heart and mind of the grand colonel who called me a beautiful honeybee before riding off in a swirl of snow.

I wrapped a second scarf over my shoulders and headed out, the weather was splendid but cold. The midday sun had the world in a sparkle, a winter wonderland to adore and enjoy. I took a deep breath of fresh air and set off down the hidden road few carriages traversed. I followed it down the hill and then began my trodding across the field to reach the ice-covered lake where I was sure the most wonderful view where to be seen.

I had no idea how right I was…

As I came over the little hill, a wonderful view indeed sprawled out before me. But nothing could compare to the man standing right by the edge of the snow-covered beach, holding the reins of his large steed in a loose grip. With the sun shining high I could see him most perfectly, even if he wore no red coat I would have known his posture anywhere. The air about him was that of a single kind. I had spent so many words on the man, writing poetry to expel the feelings I had endeavoured to suppress ever since I had managed to tear myself away from the edge of the forest where I had last seen him galloping away in haste.

I stood still, once more stuck looking at the man from a distance without him being aware, and I felt as if all the feelings I had sought to tamper down and rid myself of through poetry took over completely. Let loose by his appearance where I least expected him. Oh, this is not proper! This is lunacy of the acutest kind. The man is a colonel, for goodness sake. I was about to turn around, play the coward, and run away while my heart ran rampant. “Honeybee!” came the loud rumble of the colonel, stopping me in my tracks (not that I’d begun to actually move).

The sound of boots and hooves walking through snow filled the air as he neared. My mind blanked when his soft gaze landed on me and a small smile spread his lips most sweetly. “Colonel Brandon,” I said and curtsied while hiding my bare hands behind my back. A bit embarrassed I had no gloves to speak of when he wore such fine ones of leather. “What a wonderful surprise,” he said. “What brings you to the lake, miss?” “Oh, umh, well, I was merely out for a walk to— To clear my head a bit, colonel.” “Perhaps a coincidence, I am here for that exact reason. What troubles you, if I may enquire?” You . Not that I could ever admit to such a thing.

“My troubles could not possibly be of any importance to a colonel, sir Brandon.” “I would take great pride in absolving you of any trouble, honeybee.” His voice was honest, his gaze a bit harsher and his voice once more a line rather than a smile, and that nickname set my stomach into an absolute flutter. “Do not tease me, sir.” “Never,” he said while taking a step closer. “I am not a man who would trifle with a beautiful woman,” he continued, taking another step. He was almost too close, yet not close enough.

My fingers fidgeted behind my back, the ends of my scarf swaying lightly in the soft breeze. A gust of wind blew by and my scarf flew off, tumbling along the snow in soft waves. He was off after it before I had a chance to even react. “Colonel!” I called, feeling like a nuisance to the man. “Colonel! Stop! It’s my—” He bent and snagged the thin fabric, holding it up with the sweetest of triumphant smiles before he jogged back. My icy fingers covered my mouth to hide the giggle, or perhaps to cool the heat flushing my face.

“My lady,” he said with a slight bow while holding out my scarf for me. I suffocated the laughter bubbling within me at his theatrics and reached for it. He jolted and grabbed my hand before I could pull away. “No gloves? In this chill?” he asked, concern written all over his handsome face while mine contorted with shame and embarrassment. “Thank you,” I said and wrung my hand free. “For catching it, sir.” I draped it over my shoulders once more but he only tilted his head to study me closer.

“I ought to return,” I said after a moment of silence, a silence far too intense. “They are expecting me at home,” I continued and curtsied swiftly before turning on my heel. “Miss Melinda,” he called, “stay safe!” “I shall, Colonel. I’m quite capable!” I called over my shoulder before waving at him, picking up my pace while leaving deep prints behind which I knew he would not follow this time.

***

It was the tenth of December, another week had passed since I saw the colonel and my little notebook was by now full of poems all revolving around him, around what he made me feel and wished to expel. My silly little heart had no wits about her, my mind just as snagged on his handsomeness — his kindness a lingering torment when there was no world in which I could be anything to such a fine gentleman.

“Mellie,” Margaret whined, “you’ve been writing for hours!” “Huh? Oh, have I really?” “Yes!” she said with a certain oomph to her voice. I merely smiled at her, mustering up the courage to not show her anything at all. “Is there a reason I ought to stop for the moment?” I asked as she leaned on the desk where I had, indeed, been sitting for several hours as lunchtime had arrived. “Mama asked you to fetch a bird for dinner, it’ll be dark if you don’t go soon.” “Oh, oh right! Yes, of course,” I said while shutting my little notebook and standing. “I’ll head out right away.” “But it’s lunchtime, silly goose.” “Well, there will be no goose of any kind, or other bird, if I don’t get a move on, will there?” “I’ll make a sandwich for you,” she said and scurried off with the usual happy spring to her steps. “With cheese and peppers, how you like it!” she called over her shoulder and I smiled at her sweetness.

I was out of the house a few moments later, hurrying towards town once again to get a bird for the family for the evening. Given how cold it was, one could have bought several and just had them in a box outside - they’d keep for weeks if the weather remained. But, again, I was not one to complain about some walking. I was rather fond of being out like that, truth be told. Truth be told, huh? More like give me something to take my mind of the man in a red coat, with a sweet smile, and soft eyes, and— Stop. Just, do not think of him. Simple as that. It was not , however, simple as that.

All the way to town, then through it, and back home again, I thought of the man. When I went down the hill to the house he was really the only thing I thought of at all. The fact I managed to keep my wits about me enough to see snow prints of male shoes unlike any other prints was a miracle. As the Dashwoods had company, obviously of the male kind, I walked around back and took the small servant entrance almost straight into the kitchen.

“Cook, here, I found a fantastic goose for dinner. It’s missing half a wing but the butcher gave me a great price for it.” “My, my, my, that is a good bird,” Cook replied as I held the naked goose up. Plucked and ready for cooking. She grabbed it and my cold fingers flexed with an ache to them. The thing was heavy and with the evening chill I struggled to get my blood flowing again for a moment while undressing my outside clothes only to put on a new scarf over my shoulders and thicker slippers on my feet rather than the boots and tripple socks.

“Here,” Cook said and handed me a tray of tee with some biscuits on a plate. Four cups on it, but it was the pretty china so the fourth one certainly wasn’t for me and Margaret didn’t drink tea. “Who’s visiting?” I asked. “Oh, some upstanding man, the boring type if you ask me. Tense looking. Too old for any of the Dashwoods too, no idea why the lady entertains him for so long.” “Long?” “He’s been ‘ere since one, came right after lunchtime.” “Well, perhaps he fancies one of them, or one of them fancies him. Is he rich?” “Very much so, Mellie.” “Well, there you have it then, Mrs Dashwood couldn’t send a rich man away — no matter his looks or age when she has two daughters she needs to wed.” “Indeed, but we both know the lady cares too much about what her daughters want to ever force a marriage.” “True, maybe she can force a marriage with a rich man upon me?” I laughed, both cook and I perfectly aware I wished for no such thing and nor would it ever happen either. No, love would be my biggest reason for marriage — riches were good, but love far outweighed it in every way.

As I came closer to the parlour I heard Marianne speak, asking whoever was visiting to read another. I didn’t know what she referred to but I gently pushed open the door, not making a sound as I backed in to not wobble the tray. “Snow prints—” My heart stopped in my chest. “—were followed, a path—” My fingers trembled. “—he ought not have taken. She was below—” The tray clattered to the floor, the china breaking and shards scattering all over the floor as I heard Colonel Brandon read my poetry, about him !

“Mellie, goodness me, are you alright?” said Mrs Dashwood with a shriek. I slowly turned, seeing the man who I had written those words for staring at me with wide eyes and slightly parted lips, Marianne sat far too close to him. He was a captivating reader, I could not fault her for her investment, yet my heart ached at the sight of the two.

“I— That’s—” “I gave it to him,” Margaret said with a beaming smile. “You write so well, Mellie!” she kept going and Colonel Brandon looked between me and the notebook containing my most inner thoughts in his hands. His eyes turned wider, his face paled and I felt my insides twist as he stared at me again.

Tears stung my eyes, the shame and embarrassment, the hurt and fear, the ache in my chest at the betrayal of the child I thought so highly of. “Excuse me,” I blurted out before bolting out the door, not staying to clean up the mess. “Mellie!” called Mrs Dashwood. “Mellie, what—” called Marianne with confusion in her tone but I was out of earshot for her sweet, clear voice. Such a contrast to the Colonel’s, so perfectly matched.

I ran out through the kitchen entrance, past Cook who prepared the infernal bird, and out into the snow lit up by the climbing moon as early evening had arrived. “Honeybee!” came the voice I dreaded to hear. “Stop, please!” he called and I stopped, my hand on the gate at the end of the backyard and my slipper-clad feet deeply buried in the white coldness below.

His running steps reached me, and the crunching of snow and slightly panted breaths filled my ears. Warmth wrapped around my shoulders as he hung his coat over me and I spun around in shock at the action. He was stood in only his vest and shirt, the biting wind tossed about his beautiful hair but all I really saw were the sweet, kind eyes staring at me.

“I never knew,” he said quietly while taking a step back. “Knew what?” I asked, attempting to not inhale deeply as his scent wafted up my nose. The perfect scent, the warmest and most comforting of scents. “That is was your beautiful poetry I was reading, the child gave it to me, asked for me to read something out of it. I thought it belonged to one of the ladies present in the room — and they did not object,” he said while looking most forlorn, nearly distressed. “I was not even aware you resided with the Dashwood household.” “I have for many years,” I said. “Marianne will be a perfect match for you,” I continued while thinking of their voices, the way she sat right beside him on the sofa.

Colonel Brandon stepped closer. “I have already found my match,” he said. “I asked you not to tease me, sir. And you said not to be a gentlemen who trifled with women.” “And I have not,” he said, his eyes hardening while coming far too close, forcing me to look up at him. It was all in my head… Only in my heart, not his. Perhaps, perhaps he is merely a most kind man? I have little experience with those.

“Honeybee,” he said, snagging my attention anew. “I have not, and will not, trifle with you, tease you. I am too old for games and life far too dark as is for me to make it any worse.” “Sir!” “I speak true,” he declared. “A gentleman such as you ought to be more aware of your own handsomeness.” He blanched at that, blinking at me before a timid smile stretched his lips in a manner that looked as if he were unable to control it.

“You find me handsome?” “What woman in their right mind would not?” “Oh, I do believe you may be a woman of singular taste, honeybee.” I gasped, gaping at him. “I beg your pardon? Are you accusing me of something?” “I am not a favourable option for most beautiful women, such as yourself. I am well aware of it. My riches perhaps an aid in seeing past it, or my standing in society.” I gasped anew, a mixture of an exhale and a laugh of disbelief.

“You are terrible, sir. You may wish to know I had no idea who you were until you introduced yourself, even then, I am new to this part of the county and have had little to do with the upstanding citize n so I am not aware of your riches. I do recognize the bravery and skill you possess to climb up the ranks, but any silly nilly knows such things,” I said with both hurt and irritation at the man who twisted my insides with warmth and want. “I apologize, miss,” he said, his face held in some sort of shame at the assumption he’d held of me perhaps. “No need, I am but a servant of no importance or value.” “What a foul thing to say…” “Truth is sometimes.”

Time stretched on while we stood in silence, simply looking at each other. “Miss Melinda, your poetry,” he began while looking at me with something I could only describe as respect, perhaps even admiration, “it is most beautiful, passionate, deep .” The change of subject threw me for a loop, a man such as him ought to hold no admiration of any kind for a woman such as I. “Like your voice,” I whispered before I could stop myself. I had thought of hearing my words in his voice, there was no way not to when his voice was such perfection. He chuckled. “My voice is to your liking?” “Everything about you is to my liking, as far as I’m aware. Sir .” I couldn’t help the sass, or the way my face had hardened while my insides were in an uproar over the man. I had to protect myself from the rejection that was sure to come despite his sweet words. It was only a matter of time, surely.

Yet, it did not.

His hands cupped my face, the gesture most intimate and highly improper. “If you are ever made aware of a trait of mine that is not to your liking, I will be very much obliged to correct it, to your liking, honeybee.” “W-What do you mean?” I asked, my breath tumbling out in a shuttering way. “Would you object to me?” My eyes widened while his finger stroked my cheek. “Object to you? Sir?” “I am beyond happy I caught a glimpse of you, heard the vendor call for you about the holly, and found your prints at the edge of town. I rode around quite manically to find you, you know. Following those snow prints, it was the best decision I have ever made.” “Colonel… Stop, we cannot, it’s not proper.” “Propriety can take flight and be on its merry way, honeybee. I have my heart set on you, my beautiful honeybee who writes the most captivating of poetry and smiles with nothing but honesty in her eyes. I have my heart set on you, Melinda Merryweather.” “It was about you…” I whispered while my skin burned under his touch. “Me?” “Yes… For weeks now, I’ve tried all I can to rid myself of these feelings and thoughts…”

Brandon viewed me with a mixture of torment and joy, I chuckled nervously while he released my face and grasped my hands. His coat slid off my shoulders as he tugged me closer — gently — and the cold December air wrapped itself around me. “Would you allow said feelings to grow? Fester? Become an irrevocable part of you?” “Colonel…” “I am already lost to you, honeybee. Allow me the chance to make you happy,” he asked kindly, his hummingly dark voice nothing but an endless promise of said happiness. “Yes. Yes, please,” I whispered as tears of relief and joy wetted my cheeks. “Honeybee… Beautiful Melinda… My Melinda,” he said before he leaned in and kissed my forehead with force, his thin lips perfectly warm against my chilled skin. “You shall not regret this, I promise you my all.”

We leaned back, my heart was aflutter and my stomach a warm ball of knots, and I could not help but smile at the sweet gentleman who had captivated my heart so easily. “I fear any regret I may have will be only a reflection of your own, Colonel.” “Christopher,” he corrected. “My name, is Christopher, honeybee.” “Christopher.” “How sweet a sound you make it. I shall wish to hear it every day for the rest of my life.” I only nodded at that, too stunned to speak when he so brazenly declared I was to be his for all time to come. I held no objections to that as his hands squeezed mine with warmth, his kind eyes a balm to my soul and his smile a thing of beauty far beyond the sparkling snow all around us…

LINKTREE // AO3 // MASTERLIST

A/N: Oh how I hope you enjoyed this One Shot with our dear Brandon 🥰 I had so much fun writing this, and it did indeed turn out to be far longer than I had planned but I enjoyed each word I wrote of this 😍👏

IMPORTANT: Tomorrow I’ll be picking up a story from Rickmas2022! You do not have to read it before reading this years parts, but I do recommend it to get the full story. I will do a small recap before diving into the new parts too. The fics I will be continuing is 14. Icy Roads & 15. Frosty Glass (yes, it’s Hans and Anna-Louisa who are making a comback by super popular demand 😂👏). I've yet to start writing it but, well, guess it'll be a late night today 👀👍

Q: You can only choose one hot drink to consume during December: Coffee, Tea, or Hot chocolate? A: COFFEEEEEEEE all the way for me 😂☕

TAGLIST: @lizlil @snapefiction @darkthought15 @monstreviolet @flowerdementia @marvelschriss @once-upon-an-imagine @ravennight41 @caseydoodles98 @slytherinprincess03 @theconsultingdetectiveswife @grimmyhild @monster-energies @myobscureimaginarium @snowblossomreads @eternal-silvertongued-prince @cherryglossie @setsuna-meiou31 @helena211 @a-queen-and-her-throne @justsaturn0 @turvi @imwithyoutiltheendofthelinebucky @sunnylikesfrogs @mamawolfsmith16 @dianilaws @sassanoe @snapesrn @bernadette-peters12 @sammy-13 @smartowl999 @castleofthorns @serenanight87 @sunset90 @mamawolfsmith87 @snowblossomreads @ladykardasi @a-queen-and-her-throne @eternal-silvertongued-prince @lyrixsnape @imwithyoutiltheendofthelinebucky @daddythanatos

Want to be tagged? 💚 You can tag yourself HERE! Or tell me and I’ll gladly tag you! 😍

[Dec:2023]

#rickmas2023 #rickmas #colonel brandon x oc #colonel brandon fic #colonel brandon #alan rickman #rickmaniac #sense and sensibility 1995

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pastafossa · 2 years

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DONE. HERE ARE MY THOUGHTS:

I FUCKING LOVED, OUR MANWHORE IS BACK AND HE'S HERE TO SASS THE FUCK OUT OF EVERYONE. MY HIGHLIGHTS:

Legal entrance, Matt KNOWS how to enter in style, and I lost my fucking mind when he did. Side note, their legal back and forth was PERFECT.

MATT HITTING ON JEN IN THE BAR??? THE SASS??? SIR. Me whsipering the whole time, 'get him jen get him jen', but also Matt sliding in some good advice for her, because he may be snarky and sassy but he's also a kind, intelligent, thoughtful person and I loved that. He'd also be someon3le who absolutely relates to using both sides for good.

THE CAR AND FIGHT SCENE??? Matt just bouncing around??? Matt taunting and practically begging for Jen to slap that ass into next week? 100% the correct audacity level for him. Also he absolutely wants Jen to roll him, good for you baby

Side note: the Devil voice for, 'you need to back off' I am weak-kneed, my body is ready. Matt, Jesus

JESUS FUCKING CHRIST, THIS EXCHANGE:

'What are you, the gold devil?

*Netflix Daredevil theme starts playing*

Matt, puffed up and showing off his suit waiting for Jen to be impressed: I'm Daredevil.

Jen:

Matt:

Jen: 🤷‍♀️

KETCHUP AND MUSTARD SUIT

OH GOD THE SEXUAL TENSION OUTSIDE THE WAREHOUSE. Him reading her heartbeat was fucking HOT.

"I'm going to do my thing." "Well I'm going to do my thing." "You don't have a thing." RIP the banter is destroying me I LOVE that we're getting to see Matt's snarky, happier side.

Me before Matt goes in: "I hope there's a hallway so he can fight in it."

30 seconds later: "THERE IS A HALLWAY! HALLWAY FIGHT! HALLWAY FIGHT! HALLWAY FIGHT FIGHT FIGHTFIGHTFIGHT!!! YOU FUCKERS ARE GONNA BE SORRY!"

The lampshaded bunch of dudes coming into the hallway only for Jen to squash them, Matt almost looked disappointed. Baby, you'll get another hallway, I'm sure. 😂

Excuse me the LEGAL FOREPLAY while FIGHTING I am LIVING for this, Jen trying to talk Frogman down while Matt wanders around kicking ass. "The gold ninja devil is a lawyer too???" "I just watch a lot of legal dramas." MATT STOP. I love them your honor, and I missed this boy. 😭

"I could take you to dinner." "Or we could skip all of that and..." YES GET HIM JEN

YES THEY'RE GONNA FUCK, AND HE'S IN THE DEVIL SUIT, HALLELUJAH, LIVE THE DREAM JEN

She can't fucking get his suit off, I am WHEEZING because seriously, how the fuck does it come off

MATT'S COMPLETELY SHAMELESS WALK OF SHAME, LIKE SHOES OFF??? BABE??? IN THE SUIT??? OUR MATTHEW MANWHORE MURDOCK IS BACK

I FEEL LIKE I'VE BEEN GIVEN LIFE YA'LL, SO MANY YEARS OF WAITING!

And not only did we GET our Devil back, we got to see a side of him we'd only ever caught glimpses of in the Netflix series! There's a sense of happiness with him, as if things are actually going good for him right now, and I LOVE that. We deserve to see all sides of him, what he's like when he's beaten down and when he's happy. I loved this! I NEED TO SEE IT AGAIN. I'm also so happy I could cry, fr. It's been so long since we've seen him in any substantial way. Having him back after years without means so much, and I felt like this was very much our Matt. And if you read TRT, this snarky, happier Matt completely vibes with my TRT!Matt, how I see and write him, and where I plan to have him end up - happy, Jane's rubbed off on him, confident.

As for my prediction for next week: matt represents her!

#matt murdock #daredevil #she hulk spoilers #she hulk attorney at law spoilers #she hulk #she hulk attorney at law #jen walters #charlie cox #OUR BABE IS BACK #HE HAS RETURNED AND HE IS FULL OF SASS #I MISSED HIM SO MUCH #MY DARLING #also just call meeee a shipper #She-Devil please

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gogandmagog · 5 months

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For @alwayschasingrainbows. Another long-owed item! I think this is the short you were hunting up, a few months ago? I couldn’t find the original post because I’m lame, and never tag things right, so I guess I’m really just hoping this is it!

The Price, by Lucy Maud Montgomery, from After Many Days, Tales of Time Passed.

ON THE DAY when Dr. Lennox told Agatha North that she was out of danger and would soon be as well as ever, if she took proper care of herself, Agatha smiled her old, gallant smile up at him and Christine and Nurse Ransome.

"That's the most interesting thing you've said this long while," she told him. 'I was beginning to think you were stupid - your conversation has been so dull. I'm glad I'm going to get better. I want to live. There are so many things I want to do yet. And, oh, I'd hate to die and leave all my nice dishes and my open fire - and that row of tulips I planted out the day I took sick." Christine and Dr. Lennox laughed, the former with a note of heartfelt relief in her laughter. It was so nice to hear Agatha say a whimsical little thing like that again.

She had been so ill; the attack of bronchitis had been very severe, and there were complications. But all was well now; she would soon be her old self again - darling Agatha. Christine bent and kissed her impulsively.

Nurse Ransome had not smiled, did not intend to smile. Her small, pale, watery eyes expressed entire disapproval of such frivolity on her patient's part; her narrow white face seemed to Christine narrower and whiter than ever. Christine hated her; she had not wanted to have her on the case, but no other nurse could be had at the time, and Miss Ransome was certainly competent. Nurse Ransome could not hate - she had not enough intensity for that - but she disliked Christine and pretended to herself that she disdained her. She would have said that Christine was a vain, proud, selfish, thoughtless, idle chatterbox. All of this, and more, was true; but it was equally true, though Nurse Ransome would never have said it, that Christine was an exquisitely pretty, loving, winsome, sensitive creature.

Dr. Lennox was thinking this, as he looked at her across Agatha's bed. He was madly in love with Christine, as all Harrowsdene knew. They were not engaged yet, but everybody took it for granted they soon would be. A good many people thought Dr. Lennox was making a mistake. of course, Christine was a North and would eventually be the heiress of Agatha's not inconsiderable estate, including "Whiteflowers"; but then she was such a wild, laughing thing, "a pretty butterfly," Dr. Lennox's aunt called her contemptuously. She thought, they said, of nothing but dress, dances and beaus, and "spinning street yarn." She laughed and talked too much and too freely - "you always heard her before you saw her." "A doctor's wife above all things should know how to hold her tongue - she would ruin his practice." She was far too intimate with Jen Keefe and her set; she was delicate; she was extravagant; she was, in short, thoroughly spoiled.

Ward Lennox had been told all these things at sundry times and by divers people, and they had made no impression on him at all. He had loved Christine from the moment of their first meeting, and he meant to ask her to marry him as soon as he could muster up the courage to do it. In his eyes she was all but perfection; her few faults were but the faults of petted youth; the only thing he seriously disapproved of in her was her intimacy with Jen Keefe, that lady of the pale gold hair and over-large dark eyes and free-and-easy ways. But once Christine was his wife she would see no more of the Keefes. Ward Lennox fondly believed that he could mould Christine to his views in all things; he had no idea of the strength of will that lay hidden under the soft curves and behind the coquettish eyes of her youth.

Agatha smiled up adoringly into Christine's face. They were cousins, but Agatha was the senior by twenty years.

She had brought Christine up, when the latter was orphaned by the death of both father and mother in baby-hood: 'Whiteflowers was the only home Christine had ever known. She loved it and she loved Agatha passion-ately. But then everybody loved Agatha North, that busy, kindly, charitable, broad-minded, wonderful woman, who was always helping somebody or something, always planning and engineering and succeeding, always full of life and interest and zest and wholesome laughter. Why, Harrowsdene could not get along without Agatha North.

A sensation of relief and gladness went over the whole town like a wave when Dr. Lennox went away from "Whiteflowers" that day and spread the news that Agatha was going to get better and would be about in a few weeks. There had been anxiety; bronchitis so easily ran to pneumonia, and Agatha had the "North heart.”

Before he went away Dr. Lennox explained the change of medicines to Nurse Ransome and Christine.

"She is listening to him, not to what he says," thought Nurse Ransome, watching Christine covertly.

Christine was more aware of Ward Lennox than of what he was saying. She thrilled with a delicious sense of his nearness; she was acutely conscious of his tall straightness, his glossy black hair, his luminous dark blue eyes, and the passionate tenderness she sensed behind the aloofness of his professional manner. But she heard what he said distinctly and remembered it per fectly for all this. She never forgot anything Ward said to her. In all the world there was no music like his voice.

"This is her regular medicine," said the doctor. "Give her four of these tablets every three hours. This," he held out another smaller bottle, "is only to be used if she has one of those restless attacks at night and cannot sleep. Give her one of these tablets - on no account more than one - every four hours if necessary. Two would be dangerous - three fatal. I'll set the bottle up on this little shelf by itself."

It was Christine's turn to sit up that night. Nurse Ransome repeated the caution about the tablets before she went to her room. Christine listened with a slightly mutinous, insolent expression; there was no need of Nurse Ransome's reminders. She had not forgotten what Ward had said; she was not a child. She sent a glance of pettish dislike after the spare figure of the nurse. She felt that Nurse Ransome insinuated doubts to the doctor as to her fitness for waiting on Agatha; it was agony to think he might have or acquire a poor opinion of her in this respect. Christine was vain and abnormally proud; she could not bear to be looked down upon by anybody for any reason. She hated Nurse Ransome because she felt that Nurse Ransome looked down upon her. Christine would have gone to the stake in olden days, not for her religion, but for dread of the contempt she would incur from her co-religionists if she proved too weak for the test of martyrdom. The most acute suffering of her childhood had been endured when a schoolmate had publicly taunted her with a distant cousin of the Norths who had been sent to prison for forgery. She never forgot the shame and humiliation and torture of that day.

Agatha was very restless that night. At the best of times she was liable to sleeplessness - strangely so for her type. At ten o'clock Christine gave her one of the tablets and at two another. She was very careful to set the bottle back on the bookshelf. She was afraid of it. She hoped Agatha would not need it again.

When a week had passed Agatha was feeling so well that she wanted to be allowed to sit up. Dr. Lennox would not permit it. He told her her heart was not yet tit for any exertion. "You must lie here for another week yet. Then I may let you sit up for a few minutes every day."

"You tyrant!" she said, smiling up at him. 'He is a tyrant, isn't he, Christine? My heart isn't going to kill me. My grandmother had the same kind of a heart and she lived for ninety-five years. I'm going to live for ninety-five years - and enjoy every minute of them, and do a thou sand things I want to do.

She laughed up at him and Christine. Dr. Lennox laughed back - dimples came out in his cheeks when he laughed - said good-night, and went out of the room.

Christine put the green shade over the light, and sat down by the window. It was her night to watch again, but the night vigils by now were little more than matters of form. Agatha had never required the sleeping tablets since that first night. She slept soundly, seldom waking until dawn. The sinister little bottle had never been taken down from the bookshelf.

Christine at the window began to dream, looking out into the chilly moonlit night of October. She was beginning to wish acutely that Agatha were quite well. She was getting tired of the sick room, tired of the monotonous existence which Agatha's illness had necessitated. She wanted to get back to her gay round of social doings again, the dances, the teas, the dinners, all the diversions of the little town. She wanted to wear her pretty dresses and jewels again - Christine loved jewels. Agatha had given her a string of tiny real pearls and a glittering Spanish hair comb for her last birthday. She had never had a chance to wear them yet. She wanted to flood

"Whiteflowers" with music again. Next to her love for Ward, music was Christine's most intense passion, and she had not touched her piano since Agatha became ill.

She wanted to get off for a weekend at Jen Keefe's Mus-koka lodge for the deer-shooting. She knew Agatha wouldn't want her to go, but she meant to go for all that.

It was nothing but sheer envy that made people talk about Mrs. Keefe and her set. There was nothing wrong bound by silly old conventions with them; they were gay and up-to-date and not hide-

Then she let herself think of Ward Lennox - gave herself up to a vivid dream of their life together. She forgot her surroundings totally until she was recalled to them by a realization that Agatha was moving uneasily on her pillows.

Christine went to the bed. "Do you want anything?"

"I think I must have one of those tablets," said Agatha.

"My restlessness has just returned - I thought perhaps it wouldn't - I've been doing so well lately. But for half an hour now I've just wanted to toss and scream."

Christine went over to the table, took down the bottle and returned with a tablet. She moved a little absently, for she was still partially in her dream of Ward.

After Agatha had taken her tablet she soon fell asleep.

It was now eleven o'clock. Christine went back to the window and dreamed herself into a doze, leaning back in her big upholstered chair. She did not awaken until Agatha called her. It was the first time she had slept on guard.

"Would you like another tablet, dear?"

"No. The restlessness is gone. I think I'll sleep normally now - but since I'm awake, give me my regular dose. Ugh, when will I ever get square with Ward Lennox for all those hundreds of detestable little white tablets he's made me swallow? But after all they're preferable to the nauseous tablespoonfuls of liquid his father used to inflict on me."

Christine went over to the table rather stupidly. She yawned - she was not wholly awake yet. The clock in the parlour below was striking three. She counted the strokes absently as she took out the four tablets. Agatha sat up in bed to wash them down with a sip of water from the glass Christine held to her lips. She had been warned not to do this and now she slipped back with a sigh.

"I'm weaker than I thought I was."

"Is there anything else you'd like?" Christine asked, smothering another yawn.

"No, no, dear. I'm all right. It's only that I rather feel as if I were a dish of jelly and would all fall apart if violently jarred," said Agatha. "Go back to your chair and rest all you can. Sitting up like this is too hard on you - you're not strong. But you won't have to sit up many more nights. How glad I'll be when I'm well again. It will be so nice to keep my house again - and read my books - and eat just what I want - and be finally rid of that respectable female, Miss Ransome."

Christine went back, but she was thoroughly wakened up now and did not want to sleep. Agatha was soon asleep again. Moving softly, Christine turned on the light by the dressing table, screened it from the sick bed, and sat down before the mirror. Taking the pins out of the masses of her rich glossy black hair she began to experiment with various ways of hairdressing. Christine loved to do this. She was very proud and fond of her beautiful hair, and was in the habit of spending hours at her glass, sleeking and brushing it. After several experiments she got it up in a new way she liked exceedingly. She would wear it like that to Jen Keefe's next dance - with her Spanish comb in it. She slipped across the hall to her own room, and returned with the comb, and put it in her hair. How pretty she was! She leaned her elbows on the table, cupped her chin in her hands, and studied her reflected face earnestly. How very white her skin was!

What a delicate bloom was on her round modelled cheeks. How golden-brown her eyes were behind their long black lashes; her forehead was rather high, but this new way of doing her hair banished that defect. Her neck and arms were lovely. She was the prettiest girl in Har. rowsdene, there was no doubt of that. And the happiest.

And she would be happier yet - when she married Ward.

Oh, she was going to have a splendid, joyous life - ever so much gayer than life at "Whiteflowers" had been.

Though Agatha was a darling, she did not care much for social doings. But as young Mrs. Ward Lennox, she could do as she liked. Ward adored her - he would give her her own way in everything. No "settling down" for her into any poky routine of married life, looking after babies and pantry supplies. No, indeed - not for years to come. She hated children anyhow, children and housework. She was young and beautiful: she would grasp at all youth and beauty could give her. For years to come she would know the joy of pleasing the eyes of men.

She would entertain: Harrowsdene should have its eyes opened. And she would never give up Jennie. Ward didn't like her, she knew, but he would get over that. He would have to get over his strict old-fashioned notions about things. She loved Jennie; Jennie was a dear thing, so gay and good-hearted. Of course, she wasn't an old Calvinistic prude like most of the Harrowsdene women - like all of them, except Agatha. She believed in living and letting live. So did Christine.

"I'm - going - to - do - exactly - as - I - please," she nodded with every word at the radiant face in the glass.

"'I'm - going - to - have - a - splendid - time."

She touched her lovely shoulders admiringly.

"How sorry I am for ugly women," she said. "What can they have to live for? But, of course, there must be some to do the stupid drudgery of life. We who are beautiful should be exempt from all that. It is just enough that we are beautiful."

She laughed softly again, softly, triumphantly, inso-lenily, defiant of fate - the last laughter of her youth.

It was dawn now. Agatha still slept. Christine turned off the mirror light and went to the open window. The grounds of 'Whiteflowers" were very lovely in the faint, pearly lustre. The wind was whistling rather eerily in the dead reeds of the little swampy hollow behind "White-flowers," but the sky was exquisite, with white clouds floating across it.

It was going to be a fine day. Christine was glad. She hated dull stormy days. She would go to see Jen in the afternoon. She hadn't been anywhere since Agatha took ill. But there was no need to mew herself up any longer.

She turned and went over to the bed. Agatha was lying on the pillows, her face turned to the grey light. Something about it sent a strange, horrible dart of vague dismay to Christine's heart. She bent once and touched Agatha's cheek. Christine had never touched a dead person's cheek before - but she knew - she knew.

A shriek of terror broke from her lips. Nurse Ransome, who had just been coming across the hall, rushed through the doorway, followed by old Jean, the house-keeper, who had been on her way downstairs. Nurse Ransome saw at a glance what had happened, but she went promptly to work with all proper attempts at re-vival. Jean was dispatched downstairs to telephone for the doctor. White, shaking, useless, Christine was told to open the other window.

Christine went uncertainly toward the window. On her way she passed the table where the medicine bottle stood. Suddenly she stopped, looking at it. The bottle of sleeping tablets was on it. It had not been put up in its place at eleven o'clock. The bottle of regular tablets was back in the corner, half hidden by the window curtain, just as it had been at eleven o'clock.

What had she given to Agatha at three o'clock?

A hideous conviction suddenly took possession of her mind. She remembered - as if the whole incident rose out of subliminal depths into consciousness - she remembered feeling the raised letters of the poison bottle in her fingers as she counted out the four tablets. The regular medicine bottle was smooth. Her conscious mind, dulled by sleep, had not been aware of what she was doing - had retained no memory of it. But she knew what she had done. At eleven o'clock, her thoughts still tangled in the cobweb meshes of her voluptuous dream-ing, she had forgotten to put the sleeping tablets safely back on the shelf. At three o'clock she had picked up the bottle and given Agatha four tablets from it. Four - and three were fatal!

A sensation of deadly cold went over her from head to foot - then nausea, horrible, beyond expression. She fought it off, and, blindly obeying the dictates of an impulse that had no connection with reason but rushed furiously up from the deeps of being, she caught the poison bottle in her icy hand and set it on the shelf, with one wild, terrified look back at Nurse Ransome. Nurse Ransome had not seen; she was busy with what had been Agatha.

Christine felt herself falling - falling - falling - into unimagined, unimaginable depths of horror. She slid down to the floor by the table, unconscious.

AGATHA NORTH'S DEATH, coming when everyone had supposed she was beyond all danger, shocked Harrowsdene to its centre. She had died in her sleep from heart failure, Dr. Lennox said. He had known it was possible, but as she herself had said, her grandmother had lived to old age with just the same kind of a heart, so he had not been much afraid of it. There was no doubt - no suspi-cion. Everybody was very sorry for Christine who seemed, it was said - for but few people saw her - to be dazed by the blow.

When Christine had recovered consciousness in her own room, Dr. Lennox and Nurse Ransome had tried to keep her there, but she broke away from them with unnatural strength and ran wildly to Agatha's room.

Nurse Ransome was quite disgusted with her entire lack of self-control. She had screamed - laughed - implored Agatha to speak to her - look at her. Agatha had always answered her when she called before. Now she did not even open her eyes - her beautiful, large-lidded eyes.

Christine had wrung her hands and torn her hair. Mingled with all her horror and agony was incredulity.

This thing could not have happened. Agatha could not be dead - it was absurd - impossible. Why didn't they do something?

"Everything has been done - everything," said Ward

Lennox compassionately. Even he did not like this frenzy of Christine's. But she was very young and this was her first sorrow. Agatha had been everything to her, mother, sister, comrade.

Under all Christine's agony was a horror of the discovery of what she had done, and a mad, unreasoning determination that it must not be discovered. She fainted again when she was forced to accept the fact that Agatha was dead; when she recovered she was calm, spent, quiet. She learned that Ward thought Agatha had died of heart failure; no one seemed to have the slightest inkling of the truth. Nurse Ransome questioned her concerning the events of the night, sharply enough, with a shrewish glint in her eyes, as was her way, but evidently without suspicion. Christine told her tale unhesitatingly, looking straight into Nurse Ransome's eyes as she told it. She was glad it was Nurse Ransome and not Ward Lennox who asked her. She could not, she thought, have told that story unshrinkingly to him.

Agatha had been very restless at eleven - she had given her one sleeping tablet and she had slept until three. Then she had asked for her usual medicine.

"I gave it to her," said Christine unquailingly, "and then she went to sleep again."

"Was there anything unusual about her?" asked Nurse Ransome. "Did she complain of anything?"

"I noticed nothing unusual." Christine's voice was steady and even. "She spoke of feeling her weakness - and she raised herself up to take her tablets before I could prevent her.

Nurse Ransome nodded.

"The exertion may have affected her heart a little. She must have died soon after three o'clock, Dr. Lennox says. It is strange you never noticed anything before morning."

"I was sitting over by the window - I never heard the slightest sound from her. I thought she was asleep."

"Did you doze off?" Nurse Ransome was a little con-temptuous.

“No, I was wide awake all the time," said Christine deliberately.

She was tearless now, tearless, cunning, and terrified to the bottom of her soul. She shut herself up in her room when Nurse Ransome had gone and walked the floor.

No one must ever know. She would not confess. It could do Agatha no good now. And what harm might it not do to herself? She was wholly ignorant of what was or might be done in such cases and in her ignorance imagined the worst. They might not believe her - not now, at all events, after those instinctive lies of terror - they might think she had done it on purpose, that might the sooner fall heir to Agatha's money. Sent to prison - tried - she, Christine North, on whom the winds of heaven had not dared to blow too roughly. And even at the best - even if they believed her - even if nothing could or would be done to her - what shame, what humiliation, what outrage to her pride! To have it known that she had poisoned Agatha, her virtual mother, through sheer carelessness, to be always pointed out as one who had been capable of such a deed, no, no, she could never face such a thing - never. Anything, any fate, would be better than that. And she knew what her fate must be. She could never marry Ward Lennox now. Confessed or unconfessed, this thing must always stand between them. But just now in her guilt and dismay and dread, this seemed of little moment. The soul can entertain but one overmastering passion at a time.

She stood before her mirror and looked at her changed face, her white, haggard face with its horror-filled eyes.

It was as if in one hour she had passed from youth to middle age.

"I will not tell - it must never be known," she whis-pered, clenching her hands.

Her dread, and the unscrupulous determination caused by it, carried her through the funeral. People talked of her unnatural composure and her marble-white face. They pitied her, knowing what she had lost in Agatha. But in the back of their minds was the thought that she was a rich woman now, the mistress and owner of "Whiteflowers," and in due time would be wife of Ward Lennox. Back of this again was a thought, or rather a feeling, that giddy, shallow Christine was not worthy of such good fortune.

"She didn't shed a tear - too proud to cry before folks, North-like," said old Aunt Hetty Lawson. "She doesn't become her black. You'll see, she won't wear it longer than she has to. She'll make Agatha's money fly. Well, well, Harrowsdene will miss Agatha North. There aren't many women in the world like her."

Christine never forgot the agony of that hour. She had to sit still among the mourners. She had to look once more on Agatha's dead face - Agatha's lovely, placid face and know that she had killed her, had cut her off in her gracious, beloved, useful prime. Agatha, who had loved her so entirely and whom she had loved so deeply in return. She had to endure the consolations of people who would despise and condemn her ruthlessly if they knew the truth. At moments it seemed to Christine that they must know it - that her horrible inward sense of guilt and remorse must be branded on her face for all to see. Her own realization of what she had done was so intense and vivid that it seemed as if it must radiate from her to the minds of all around her. Yet she sat on like a white statue, as motionless, as seemingly calm as the dead woman herself.

It was over; Agatha's beautiful soul, full of fancy and charm and love, had gone to its own place; her ripe, beautiful body was buried in Harrowsdene cemetery and covered speedily with a loose drift of autumn leaves.

And Christine shut herself up at 'Whiteflowers" alone, refusing to see anyone, even Ward Lennox.

Her dread of being found out was almost gone. Agatha was buried. Since there had been no suspicion before, there would be none now. She was safe. But now that terror was over, another emotion rose up and possessed her soul, horror of herself, passionate, unappeasable remorse. By sheer carelessness she had killed Agatha; she had preened and exulted before her mirror while Agatha was lying dead behind her - Agatha who wanted so much to live. she must atone for it, she must atone for it by lifelong penance. Sitting alone in her room, listening to the heavy rain that she knew was streaming down on Agatha's unprotected grave, she made her enduring vow.

"I have robbed her of life. I will not have life myself," said Christine.

AT FIRST people thought the change in Christine was merely the result of grief and trouble. It would soon wear off, they said. But it did not; then they began to talk and wonder and whisper again. They talked and wondered and whispered until they were tired of talking and wondering and whispering and lapsed into acceptance of a threadbare fact.

Christine cared nothing for their talking and wondering and whispering. She was bent only on atonement - bent on dulling the sting of remorse to a bearable degree by increasing penance. Within a month of Agatha's death she had organized her existence on the lines it was henceforth to follow, and nothing - entreaty, advice, blame - ever availed to move her one jot from her elected path, until people gave up blaming, entreating, advising; left her alone, and practically forgot her. Nobody could ever have believed that, much as Christine was known to have loved Agatha, her sorrow could have had such a lasting and revolutionary effect on her. But since it was undeniably so, they accepted it, concluding that Christine's mind had been affected by the shock of Agatha's death. After all, there had always been a strain of eccentricity in the Norths. Agatha herself had been eccentric in her very philosophy of living - so gay and tolerant and vivid at the years when other women had grown sober and hidebound and drab with the stress of existence.

Christine, with her own hands, put away all the things Agatha would never wear or use more, pretty things all of them, for Agatha had loved pretty things. She hung Agatha's picture in the room where Agatha had died, that she might not see it, and locked the door. But she took the brown bottle of sleeping tablets and set it on her own dressing table before her mirror, on the dressing table from which had been banished all the little implements of beauty she had been wont to use assiduously. She had no longer any use for them, but every night and every morning as she brushed her thick black hair straightly and unbecomingly off her face to its prim coil behind, she looked at the deadly reminder of her deed.

Ward Lennox respected her grief and desire for solitude as long as he could bear it. Then he went to her, told her his love, and asked her to marry him. Christine coldly refused. He was thunderstruck; he had been sure Christine loved him. Had he not seen her eyes change at sight of him, the revealing colour rise in her lovely face?

Yet now she looked unblushingly at him and told him she could never marry him. He did not give up easily; he urged, entreated, reproached. Christine listened and said nothing.

"Don't you love me?" he asked.

"No," she said, with her eyes cast down.

Ward did not believe her. He went away at last, intending to return soon. But when he went back he rang the bell at 'White flowers" unavailingly; and no answer came to his letters. He tried at intervals for a year to see Christine; then he gave up, convinced that she did not care for him, never had cared. What he had mistaken for love had only been the coquettish allurement of a wild girl, who had been sobered by trouble into a realization that she should not so play with the great passion of lie.

Christine loved him as she had always done. For one mad moment she was tempted to confess all and throw herself on his mercy. Surely if he loved her as he said he did he would overlook and forgive. But then, to fee always humiliated before him in his knowledge of her indefensible carelessness; she could not bear the thought.

This one master dread held back the words. Without it she would not have been strong enough to put away love from her, even for atonement. All other joys she could sacrifice to her craving for remorse. But not this. If it had not been for the pride that could not brook the thought of shame she would have fallen at his feet and gasped out the truth. But that pride sealed her lips forever.

She put all her old friends out of her life. Most of them had been of the Keefe set. When Mrs. Keefe came to

"Whiteflowers" old Jean Stewart told her ungraciously that Christine would not see her. Mrs. Keefe went away insulted and never made any further attempt to renew her intimacy with Christine. When, two years later, the scandal of the Keefe divorce case, with all its unsavoury details in the matter of a certain Muskoka house party, burst upon Harrowsdene, people said significantly that it was well Christine North was not mixed up in that. But by this time Harrowsdene had accepted and almost forgotten the new Christine.

Old Jean Stewart died three years after Agatha's death, and thenceforth Christine lived alone, keeping the big house herself in the immaculate fashion that Agatha had loved. She had always hated housework. She did it all now, down to the very scrubbing and stove-blacking, taking a fierce satisfaction in these hated tasks, glad when her beautiful white hands, on which never a jewel shone, grew rough and hardened. She had to have help outside, to keep the grounds as Agatha had liked them. For this purpose she employed half-witted old Dormy Woods who pottered about all the lawns of Harrowsdene and liked to insinuate that he knew dark secrets about everybody. Sometimes the queer remarks he occasionally let fall gave Christine a start of dread; when he looked at her with his horrible filmy eyes and said leeringly, "I could tell strange tales o' some folks. she grew cold to her very heart. Was it possible he knaw and guessed her secret? No, it was not possible. But she was always uneasy in his presence, and it was for thar very reason she employed him. It was part of her pen. ance. Perhaps, too, old Dormy told her bits of unsolicited news now and then.

She gave largely and secretly to the charities that Agatha had always supported, but she never spent an unnecessary cent. When people called her miserly she said bitterly to herself, "That is better than being called a murderess." She never wore anything but severe black.

She never went anywhere save to the stores, where she did her economical buying, and to church. Every Sunday she sat alone in the old North pew, reading her Bible until the service began, never lifting her eyes. She did this because she detested reading the Bible. For the same reason she read a chapter in it every night and every morning. One month, eight years after Agatha's death, she suffered from a slight but uncomfortable affection of the eyes that was epidemic in Harrowsdene, and could not read at all. Then she discovered that she missed her Bible, that she had come to enjoy it. From that time she never opened her Bible again. Yet she had read through it so often that it had become part of her, its philosophy. its poetry, its drama, its ageless, incredible wisdom, of earth and of spirit, its unexampled range of colourful human nature were hers inalienably, permeating her soul and intellect.

Her reading was all heavy and serious now. She never looked at one of the sentimental romances she had once bivelled in. Now she read only the old histories and biographies and poems in the old North bookcases. This hoed part of the time left over from her meticulous housekeping; the rest she passed in knitting and sewing, making garments which she secretly sent to the poor of the nearest city.

She never touched her piano after Agatha's death; no one ever heard her sing again. She never spoke to anyone beyond a grave Good Day, and when people talked to her or strove to hold her in conversation she answered with brief gravity and went her way - she who had once been such a chatterbox. She had put all companionship out of her life. She would not even have a cat or dog at "White-flowers." She kept the flowers that Agatha had loved in her garden, but she never touched one. Moonlight was still a fair thing, but she would not look at it. She would not accept any enjoyment, and she never for one waking moment forgot that she had killed Agatha. The passing of years never dulled or dimmed the realization. Sometimes she dreamed that people knew of it and looked on her with horror and contempt. She would wake up with perspiration on her forehead and breathe a word of passionate relief that it was only a dream.

She did not wholly succeed in banishing all passion from her life. When old Dormy told her that he'd heard Dr. Lennox was going to marry Florence King, the high school teacher, she felt a sudden savage thrill of jealousy.

"Surely he will never marry that stiff, pedantic crea- . ture," she thought. Yet she knew Miss King was handsome and clever, and Dormy reported Harrowsdene as approving the match. That night Christine looked from her window through the gap in the pines to the light that burned in a house across the river. She knew the light was in Ward Lennox's office, and she kept an ugly vigil with pain and longing. But by dawn she had conquered it. Ward Lennox might marry Florence King. It was naught to her. She had put all that behind her.

But Dr. Lennox did not marry Florence King; he did not marry anyone, though gossip linked his name with this or that for many years before it accepted the fact that Dr. Lennox meant to remain a bachelor. He was a busy, friendly man, with a large practice; everybody liked him and trusted him. People got well of serious illnesses iust because they believed in him. His personality cured more patients than his medicine. He was no hermit. He went freely into society and enjoyed life. He and Chris. tine never met. At long intervals they passed each other on the street. He would bow courteously and Christine coldly; that was all. People had forgotten that it had ever been supposed they would marry.

AFTER THIS FASHION fourteen years passed. Christine was thirty-four years old - if anybody had thought about her age. Nobody did. Her own generation were all married and gone. To the younger she was what she had always seemed - a grave, stately, middle-aged eccentric woman, considered miserly, living her strange secluded life at old-fashioned "Whiteflowers." She was always pale, darkly and plainly dressed; yet there was a haunting, tragic charm about her that made the younger beauties seem cheap and common beside her. Christine never thought about her appearance save when, looking into her unshaded mirror over the brown bottle on the table, she saw the lines on her face and the slight hollows in the cheeks that had once been so round and delicately hued, and had a momentary impression that she was old and faded - much more so than her contemporaries. But that was part of her atonement. She had given up her beauly when she gave up love and life's fulfillment. Her atonement was becoming easier - too easy, she thought. She had ceased to have wild longings of the things she had put away from her. She had ceased to dream of Ward - ceased to desire feverishly to find open her silent piano and plunge her fingers into music. She was beginning to like her housework, her reading, even her sewing and knitting. When she realized this, she felt all the old sting of her guilt and remorse. She must not be happy. What could she do to make herself miserable?

The thought came to her that she would adopt a child.

Nothing could be more distasteful to her. She had always disliked children. Most of all she disliked ugly children.

She went to the orphan asylum in the city and brought home its ugliest inmate - a boy of eight, with a pitiful little face scarred by some inhuman attack of a drunken father. His name was Jacky Brent and he was a timid, silent little fellow - the very type which made Christine feel most uncomfortable. But she revelled in her discomfort and in all the annoyances which the care and upbringing of this child brought into her methodical existence. She left nothing undone that could contribute to his comfort and welfare. She studied dietetic tables and child welfare magazines, and vexed her soul with balanced meals and tables of weights. She helped him with his lessons; she invited his schoolmates to "White-flowers" to make it lively for him and watched over their games and their manners, and got up appropriate lunches for them. She got a dog for him and forced herself to tolerate muddy paw tracks; she played halma and dominoes with him - even ball in the backyard because she abhorred it. She helped him with his les-sons, even, she remembered, as Agatha had once helped her. She helped him build a playhouse and picnicked with him in it. She forced herself to talk to him. She had lived so long with silence that she found it difficult to talk, and more difficult still to talk to a child. But she persevered, and eventually, as they gradually built up a little store of common interests, she found it easier and easier. Jacky learned to talk too, as his timidity wore off somewhat, and sometimes his quaint, unexpected remarks prompted in Christine a desire for laughter which she had long been a stranger. She never let herse laugh. She did not even smile, but momentarily the eyes of her girlhood returned to her.

In spite of his delicacy of appearance Jacky was a healthy child, but one night, when he had been ar (White flowers" nearly a year, he was suddenly taken violently ill. Christine telephoned wildly for old De.

Abbott. Dr. Abbott was away; there was nothing to do but send for Ward Lennox. Ward Lennox crossed the threshold of "Whiteflowers" for the first time in fifteen years.

He was cool, impersonal, professional; Christine was so upset about Jacky that she could think of nothing else.

They met and talked like casual acquaintances.

Ward Lennox told her that Jacky had appendicitis and that an operation was imperative. No time must be lost.

At dawn a trained nurse was in charge of the case, and the specialist from the city had come. Christine locked herself in her room and paced the floor until the operation was over. Then they told her that the abscess had broken before the operation and that Jacky's condition was very critical. Christine went back to her room.

She did not pray. She had never prayed since Agatha's death - she had never dared to. Always in the back of her mind was the feeling that she must not pray without confession - and she could not confess. She did not pray now; she looked at her drawn, anguished face in her Blass and for the first time she was unconscious of the little brown bottle under it.

Jacky might die, and she loved Jacky!

"I cannot live without him," she said, wringing her hands. "I cannot."

She remembered with a stab of horrible compunction that she had rebuked him sharply the day before for something he had said. She recalled his grieved look, the look that always came into his poor little face when he displeased her. He had always tried so hard to please her. That very night before he went to bed, when he had seemed so tired and dull, he had faithfully hung his clothes up and set his shoes straight, and put all his little treasures tidily away in his box, as her rigid rules re-quired. Christine went and looked at them, his little tops and nails and balls and engines, his new jack-knife and the old broken one he still loved because it had been his only prized possession in the asylum, his tin pail and spade, and the dancing monkey which had delighted him so. If Jacky died . ..

Jacky did not die. He recovered. And when he was well again Christine sat down in her room on the first day he went back to school and took stock of her emotions.

She had taken Jacky for a penance. He had ceased to be a penance; he had become her delight. She loved him with all the intensity of her passionate nature. She could not give him up - she could not. Such a sacrifice she could not make. She had once given her lover up in the surge of a new horror and remorse. But that surge had spent itself. She could not give Jacky up now; neither could she keep him with her guilty secret. One must be surrendered. She must make her choice.

When Jacky came from school, running through the hall calling gaily for "Aunty," who had petted and spoiled him all through his convalescence, her choice was made. She got Jacky his supper, helped him with his lessons and put him to bed, reconciling him to its unusual earliness by the promise of a treat on the morrow. Then she went out, bareheaded, into the autumn dusk - not realizing that she was bareheaded.

She had thought it all over. The tale must be told. She did not know what the result might be. Probably at this lapse of time nothing would be done to her. People would believe that it was merely carelessness and content themselves with gossip and wonder and condemnation. Christine's pride still cringed at thought of it, it would be horrible, horrible to open up the old wound, horrible to have her long-hidden secret proclaimed to her world. But it must be.

To whom could she tell it? Nurse Ransome had died five years ago. Ward Lennox? Yes, it should be to him. Her punishment must be as severe as it could possibly be.

She would go and confess to him.

She walked steadily along the street. The world about her seemed weird and purple and shadowy, with great cold clouds piling up above a sharp yellow eastern sky.

Christine felt that it was in keeping with her terrible errand; when she passed a house through whose open windows came the sound of music and laughter and dancing, she shuddered. Tomorrow these people would be talking of her - of her, Christine North, who had poisoned Agatha. And yet they were dancing tonight as if there were no such things in the world as horrible carelessness and never-dying remorse and public shame.

She struck her hands together in her misery but she went on.

Ward Lennox was sitting on his verandah when Christine came up the walk in the pale moonshine that was beginning to silver the October dusk. His amazement could not have been much greater if Agatha North herself had come up the walk - it almost made him speechless But he contrived to murmur a few conventional words and asked Christine to come in.

"I would rather stay out here," said Christine, who fell that what she had come to say could not be said in a lighted room.

She sat down in the chair he drew forward for her. The light streaming out through the window of the room behind her made a primrose nimbus around her shapely head. In the dim light she looked very beautiful, a majestic creature with that subtly knowing, deep-eyed white face of hers in its frame of flat dark hair. The lovely line of cheek and throat rose above her black collar. Ward Lennox suddenly remembered the time he had dared to kiss that white throat - the only time he had ever kissed her. It seemed to him that he could almost hear her little, deprecating laugh as she escaped him. Surely it had been the laugh of a woman who loved the man who kissed her. No coquette could have laughed just like that.

Christine looked straight at him, sensing the vast reserve of strength that underlay his external courtesy and gaiety and charm. How strong he was! And she - she had been so weak and cowardly!

"I have come to tell you something," she said.

"Yes," he said gently.

Christine waited a moment. She must find very plain, direct words. Her hands, she found, were clammy and her mouth was dry.

"I killed Agatha fifteen years ago. I didn't mean to - but I killed her."

"Christine!'

It gave her a strange shock to hear her name again. It was so long since she had heard it. For years she had been Miss North to everyone. Even to Jacky she was only "Aunty." Under the shock she was also conscious of an enormous relief, as if some horrible darkness or weight had been suddenly lifted from her soul.

She hurried on, rather incoherently now.

"I gave her four of the sleeping tablets by mistake, through carelessness. My thoughts were wool-gathering. I hadn't put the tablets back in the right place when I gave her one at eleven - and I fell asleep - and was stupid when I went to give her the regular medicine - and then I-I- played with my hair at the glass for hours, and she was dead - I never knew it. And I could not confess, I knew I ought to - but I was afraid to. I thought they might put me in prison, or always point the finger of scorn at me. I couldn't face it, so I lied. But I am telling the truth now, and I've done penance - oh, I've done penance. But I can't give Jacky up - so I'm telling it all now. Oh, whatever they do to me, don't let them take Jacky from me."

Ward Lennox was moved profoundly. Everything was clear to him now and, oh, the pity of it! For it had all been so unnecessary.

"Christine," he said slowly. "You did not kill Agatha. The tablets you gave her were quite harmless."

Christine looked up, dazed, incredulous.

"The day before Agatha died Nurse Ransome told me that she did not think the sleeping tablets would be needed again and I took them away, wanting them for another patient, as my supply had run low. I left in their place a bottle of tablets to be used if Agatha had any return of certain annoying digestive symptoms. They were harmless - the whole bottleful wouldn't have hurt her. I remember it all distinctly. Nurse Ransome should have told you. I suppose she forgot. Agatha died of heart failure - there is absolutely no doubt of that. Oh, Christine, my poor darling, and this was why - if you had trusted me…”

"If" indeed! Christine was struggling with a whirlpool of emotion in which a still half-incredulous joy was uppermost. She had not killed Agatha - there was no blood on her hands - that was the only fact she could grasp clearly now. Later on would come bitter regret, for her folly and cowardice, for the lost, wasted years, for everything she had thrown away in insensate sacrifice to her pride and her vain hunger for atonement. Later yet again would come a wistful realization that, after all, the years had not been wasted. Vanity, selfishness, frivolity had been stripped from her soul as a garment. Strength, fineness, reserve, dignity, all she had lacked had been given unto her in those years of penance; even physically they had not been barren. In her regular, simple life the delicacy of her girlhood had vanished. She had become a perfectly healthy woman. All this had been bought with a great price, but she could never have purchased it in a cheaper market.

She stood up ... and swayed unsteadily.

"I must go home - think this out. I can't - no, no, you must not come with me - I must be alone."

"Christine!" His voice was a sharp protest. "You are not going to shut me out of your life again - I love you. I've always loved you - we must…”

"Not yet - not yet," she besought him feverishly, pushing him away from her.

He stepped back and let her pass. He had waited long- he could wait a little longer.

Christine went blindly home to "Whiteflowers." She went to Agatha's room and knelt by Agatha's bed. For the first time in fifteen years she prayed - a prayer of thankfulness and humility. For the rest of the night she sat at Agatha's window looking out into the moonlit beauty of "Whiteflowers," or walked about the dim haunted room in a mingled intoxication of joy and regret. Under all the turmoil of her mind she felt curiously young again - as if life had suddenly folded back many of its pages.

Through the gap in the pines she saw Ward's light in the house across the river. For the first time since Agatha's death she let herself think about him. A door of life she had thought shut forever seemed slowly opening before her.

#short stories #lucy maud montgomery

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darklydeliciousdesires · 5 months

Text

Sky Full of Stars - Chapter Three.

Huge thanks to the scant few showing interest in this. I really hope I can drum up a few more readers, too! :)

Previous chapters - One Two

Tag list - In the comments

Words - 3,473

Warnings - 18+ content throughout. Minors DNI!

It was the most uncomfortable bed he’d ever slept in, not even a bed at all, but having her curled up against him made it completely worth the fact he felt every bump in the road as the bus sped through the night.

They were still absconded to the rear lounge, Jade pulling the removable couch seat cushions down onto the floor, her pillows and blankets from her bunk keeping them warm. He even had fresh, clean clothes. Katie was a big proponent of comfort, wearing t-shirts three times too big for her, so loaning one to him along with a pair of the boxers she enjoyed sleeping in. He certainly filled them out a lot better than she did, Jade couldn’t help but notice after he’d arrived back with her after washing and changing in the tiny bathroom.

There was a shower in there, too, drainage facilitated by a small drain in the centre, but it didn’t work while the bus was in motion. Lesson one of tour life; learn to strip, wash yourself down with a soapy washcloth and get dried and dressed again in a three by four-foot space. It was not easy. Again, though, having her there made it worth it. As did the comedy he was subjected to by certain other people on the bus.

“Skip?” Jen called, Adrien immediately snorting softly with laughter. Yes, he’d been made aware of the story behind her nickname.

“What?” she softly yelled back, reaching for her bottle of water.

“You guys banging yet?”

“No.”

“Alright.” There was a brief pause. “Can you let me know when you start? I’m horny, and I want some live action porn to listen in on. Hey, if you’re feeling it, I’ll sit back quietly if you let me watch?”

Jade winced, shaking her head as she hissed with giggles. “Jen?”

“Yeah?”

“Go to sleep!”

“I can’t, homeslice. I’m entertaining your boy! I hear him laughing back there!” she called, “S’up, Adrien? How’s bus life?”

“Not too shabby,” he called through his chuckles.

“You lie, it’s gross and you’ll hate it after a week.” There was another pause, both thinking the little entertaining spiel had ceased for a moment. “Adrien?”

“Yes, Jen?”

“If I come and lick your face again, will that get the ball rolling?”

Various other giggles emerged from the bunk area, Jade hearing their bass player Jess telling her to stop it, Adrien closing his eyes with a soft frown.

“Is she always like this?”

“Oh, yeah. Especially when she’s drunk,” Jade confirmed, fingers wandering in a circle over his chest.

“Well?” Jen called.

“Go to sleep, Jen,” he laughed.

“No! I can’t do that, I’ll miss the sex!”

Oh, god. Yes, Jade had considered spiking her with sleeping pills in the past just to shut her up, wishing she was wired like a canary she could throw a blanket over to trick into sleep. Jennifer Crowley always was and always would be much too chirpy for her own good.

“You might as well, because it isn’t happening,” he called. Suddenly, there was a bump, two feet landing on the gangway, footsteps preceding the lounge door flying open.

“What?” she asked sharply, eyes wide.

He shrugged. “Not happening tonight.”

“Why?”

“Because it isn’t. Besides, no condoms.”

“Wait!” Off she headed, the sound of rummaging becoming audible, the drummer returning to hurl a strip of Trojan’s at him. “There! I have provided. Go forth and bang!” She couldn’t keep her laughter in, a few drunken snorts sounding the air, waving her hand dismissively. “I’m just playing, I’ll stop being a terror. Love ya!”

The door closed, Jade retrieving the condoms from the blankets and throwing them to the side, not needing the temptation right there in front of her before cuddling up against him again. “I’m sorry, she’s insane.”

“She’s fine, she’s a lot of fun.” he reassured her, tightening his hug as he slid his thigh between her legs, Jade resting hers over his hip as they shared a few kisses. In truth, she was a little too boisterous for him, but he kept that to himself. Besides, it wasn’t the drummer he was there for, it was the beautiful woman he kissed with soft longing.

A few more moments of affection elapsed before they fell asleep, Jade dead to the world, used to the motion of the bus beneath her, Adrien woken up at several points as the huge vehicle shunted its way towards the city limits of Oakland, where their next show was taking place that night. As such, he didn’t feel very well rested when he awoke, lying there checking his phone, the bus having come to a stop at some point while he’d still been fitfully sleeping.

Looking up when a soft tap sounded the door, he saw it open to reveal the wide smile of the one member of the band he hadn’t properly met yet, Jess, their tiny bass player.

“Hi!” she beamed, pointing at him. “No way, you’re Adrien Brody!”

Her whispered exclamation was as cute as she was, Adrien nodding. “Guilty as charged. Nice to meet you, Jess.”

“Sorry, I won’t fangirl. You probably hate it. How’d you take your coffee?”

“Black, one sugar, please.”

She grinned again. “Be right back.” They were a very nice group of women, Charlotte and Jess definitely the quietest of the five, with nothing really topping the hyperactivity and volume of Katie and Jen. Well, Katie wasn’t so much loud as she was extremely fast talking. Then there was the sleeping woman beside him, who he could never classify as quiet, with her ear bursting roar. Who she was away from the stage was definitely more toned down and understated, though, but as he’d learn later that afternoon, she was right when she revealed to stand no bullshit.

He was in the backstage area keeping himself inconspicuous, chatting to a few of the road crew as they scurried around, when he heard her begin to become agitated out on the stage. He’d only just returned from heading out to buy himself a week’s supply of everything he needed from the nearby mall, returning to the venue to hear the girls running through a soundcheck after their techs had been out to set everything up.

“Nah, mate. Left is definitely lower,” Jade spoke through the mic to the guy at the back of the venue, sitting behind the sound desk.

“Isn’t. They’re both set at seven.” He both looked and sounded completely disinterested in her complaint, which never failed to begin turning the key in her back.

“I’m fucking telling you, it isn't level. When you stand centre stage, it’s coming through way louder on the right.”

He still couldn’t be convinced. “Happens, mainly if you’re wearing cheap IEM’s.”

“Yo!” Katie shouted into her mic, “I just stood and played in the centre and she’s fucking right, my guy. It’s louder on my side, and that’s my fucking feed, too, so if you’re putting too much juice through then I’ll be drowning out both Jade and Jen.”

“And our IEM’s cost over a grand, you rude fuck,” Jade added, folding her arms. Gone were the days of cheap in ear monitors, the girls now opting for much better quality equipment.

He stood up then, throwing the copy of Rock Sound magazine he’d been perusing down. “Wanna quit with the attitude?”

“Want to actually do your job instead of stonewalling me, since you’re too precious with your desk to let our sound guy up there and do the job he’s bloody paid to do?” she fired back, noticing Adrien appear over by the long bar that ran down the side of the venue. Well, if he was going to witness her at her feistiest, it might as well be right at the start. “I mean, by all means, get off your arse and come down here, listen for yourself?”

“Don’t need to. Levels are even.”

Placing her mic back into the cradle atop the stand, her jaw tightened as she swung her arms down, clicking her fingers in annoyance while pacing a circle. “I’m gonna fucking chin the twat. Why the fuck won’t he just let Scott up there? Fucking jobsworth wankers!” she fumed, Jen giving her wide eyes from her place behind the drums, Jade hearing a short, sharp little whistle behind her. Turning, she saw Adrien at the front of the stage, holding up a plastic cup containing something that looked suspiciously like...

“Here, double Jack. Looked like you needed it.” He’d remembered. She only mentioned it in passing, that Jack Daniels was what she sought in times of needing to calm herself down. Taking it, she mouthed her thanks, knocking it back, Adrien reaching for the empty cup again.

“I’ll leave you to it. Give him hell. You’re right, he is rude. And it is louder on the right,” he winked.

“Ain’t a thing wrong with your ears, huh, bro?” Katie spoke, pointing a wiggly finger at him.

“Nope. Same can’t be said about your man at the back there,” he said with widened eyes, jerking his head back towards the rear of the venue before walking away to return to the backstage area, Jade clasping a hand to her chest as she poked out her bottom lip.

“He’s so cute!” Katie cooed, watching her nod.

“I know! He just watched me go full indignant beast and he just casually bought me a drink and told me to give him hell!” she spoke, her voice a little pinched. It definitely calmed her ire towards the troublesome sound engineer, returning to the mic to speak to him a little more civilly.

“Can you please just turn it up a notch on the left, or down on the right? Come on, it isn’t like I’m asking you to rewire the entire PA system, is it?” she spoke, the man rolling his tongue around his cheek a little, thoughtful for a good ten seconds.

“Going up on the left.”

Another brief run through confirmed they were happy, thanking him before leaving the stage. Usually, it was a job solely fulfilled by their various techs, but should they have the time, they always wanted to go up to hear the levels for themselves, perfectionists that they were regarding how their show would sound. Heading backstage, Charlotte and Katie retreated to the bus for a while, Jen, Jess and Jade entering the dressing room, the latter collapsing down on the provided couch next to the man waiting for her.

“Sorry you had to encounter me being a beast,” she spoke, Adrien pulling her legs across his lap, stroking her thighs. It was something she very much liked about him; how openly affectionate he was with her, but not in an overstated way. And to think, they’d only met the day before. Almost exactly twenty-four hours ago, to be precise. It felt so easy with him, like she’d known him for years.

His brows upturned a little, shrugging. “I didn’t see any beasts, just a woman intent on making her point, for the good of the job she’s up there to do.” He then paused, holding up his thumb and forefinger, a small gap between. “Maybe this much of a beast. Beast I can handle, though.”

“You provided the correct medicinal tonic in taming of said beast you can handle, too. Some definite points were scored there, Mr. B,” she quipped, watching him point casually towards his head.

“Stored the information on the hard disk.”

Oh, how she was enjoying herself with him, the witty repartee, the laughter, how she’d slept so very soundly right next to him all night long. Usually, sharing her sleeping space with a new person made her feel a little anxious, especially since she was famed for her embarrassing sleep noises. With him, she’d simply curled up with nothing more on her mind than slumber.

Well, that hadn’t strictly been true.

After the show, the girls took advantage of the venue having showers backstage, getting fresh after fulfilling meeting the legion of fans waiting at the rear doors, sighing autographs and posing for pictures. They then returned to the dressing room to have a few drinks before boarding the bus, Jade taking Adrien straight to the rear lounge where a surprise waited.

“When did you get chance to do this?” he exclaimed, looking down at the much more comfortable looking bed laid upon the floor.

“I didn’t, but Kim, our assistant did,” she began, kicking her flipflops off and flopping down on the airbed below. “Ahhh, that’s good. Come try this, it’s good. Really good. Incredibly good.”

“Ahh, but is it good?” he joked, joining her. Oh, she wasn’t wrong.

“It’s a bed. Air it might be, but we have a comforter, and two pillows each. I’m happy.” Moving onto her side, she propped her head up on her hand, rooting in the pocket of her cargo pants to pull out the near ever-present tube of throat lozenges. “I could stand to be happier, though. I’m still on a high from the show, and I feel like further alcohol would improve this.”

His mouth tilted into a grin. “I’m game.” Getting up, they relocated to the front lounge, all the other girls present, Jen the final to jump on while shouting goodbye to a few fans still milling around, the doors hissing closed as she thrust her arms forward. There in her grasp, a bottle of Crown Royal in each hand.

“Venue manager gave ‘em to us, to apologise for the sound guy being a dick!”

Well, that was the six of them set for the evening, the bus pulling out as large measures were poured, topped off by the tiniest dashes of Pepsi, Adrien knowing that while he was no lightweight, drinking with five rockstars required he bring his A game to the proceedings. When he saw the speed they put away those first huge drinks with, though, he’d be lying if he said he didn’t internally wince.

He did keep up with them, though, the alcohol flowing, music blaring, enjoying when Jade commandeered the stereo and put on the album Life After Death by Notorious B.I.G so he wasn’t forced to listen to the ear-splitting metal Jen had been insisting upon.

“Hey, I used to drive for this guy!” Marv spoke from the front as soon as the opening bars to Hypnotize blasted out, Adrien’s head swivelling in the direction of the front.

“For real?” he exclaimed, Marv popping a fresh piece of gum into his mouth.

“Hell yeah, brother. Ain’t ever seen so many strippers in one place at one time in all my days, and I used to drive for Motley Crue back in the eighties. Tells ya everything, my man!” He could imagine well. Just then, he felt a soft nudge at his side, Jess holding out a joint that was almost as big as her.

“Hmm,” he mulled. He did smoke weed very, very occasionally, but... “Don’t know whether I should. I have two modes when stoned. Either I fall asleep, or...”

Her eyebrows arched, poking him gently with her finger. “Or?”

“Or the horny sex demon comes out.”

Looking around him, she nodded at Jade, locked in conversation with Katie. “She hasn’t gotten laid in a while. You have a fifty-fifty chance of a very happy ending tonight. Smoke the damned weed, buddy.”

“Well, if you put it light that.” Taking the joint from her, he took a few puffs, nudging Jade and passing on to her. “Damn, that’s strong.” he croaked, Jess beaming her megawatt grin.

“I don’t bother with the chronic unless it is. It’s my only vice, other than buying expensive bass guitars I’m then too scared to take on tour with me. I dropped way too much money in an auction for one of Jaco Pastorius’s old ones a while back. That’ll never leave the house. I was too scared to play it for the first three days, I just sat staring at it in awe that I owned something one of my biggest influences had used.” she explained, Adrien listening intently, reaching to rest his hand on Jade’s thigh while he sat back and enjoyed a conversation with her bandmate.

As the night wore on, he definitely felt it was the former taking a hold of him, his eyes growing heavy at close to 3am, Katie and Jess already returned to their bunks, Charlotte and Jen going strong, and Jade curled into his side just as they were entering Los Angeles. The band had the next day off, resuming the tour on Tuesday, playing three shows in LA before they’d hop on a plane and move down to the southern states for the next leg of the tour, playing Dallas that coming Saturday.

He’d be gone by then, he thought with much lament, nudging the sleepy woman at his side and then lifting her with ease, saying goodnight to the others as he carried her to the back of the bus. A quick brush of teeth and wash each prepared them all they needed for bed, curling up under the covers, both asleep within moments. No horny sex demon would prevail that night, but in the morning, however...

When Jade awoke, feeling a little bleary and in dire need of mouthwash, the warm body beside her was still lost to slumber. Pressing a kiss against his shoulder, she stroked his hair softly before getting up, going to the bathroom to kickstart herself with her morning routine. Once freshened, she returned to him, finding him awake and smiling, welcoming her into his arms with a big kiss.

“How’d you feel?” she asked, happily entangling herself within his long limbs.

“A little rough,” he admitted through a yawn. “It’s nothing a coffee the size of my head wouldn’t fix, though. How about you?”

“A certain way,” she spoke, lifting her head to press a kiss beneath his chin.

“Mm?” His inquiring hum was met by a look not even a blind man could mistake, his eyebrow raising as his finger slid beneath her bra strap. “Would you like me to help with that?”

“I would, but not on an airbed. You have a rental place in LA, right?”

“I do,” he confirmed, “but it’s an hour away. Well, not an hour, but LA traffic, right?”

She nodded knowingly. “Hold on, let me make a call to my home from home.” With her home there now vacated and on the market for rent, there was one place she knew she might get lucky, calling up the Chateau Marmont, the iconic hotel located on West Sunset Boulevard, just fifteen minutes from their current location. “Okay, get your stuff together. Got us a room and we can check in early. Gustav loves me to death, so he pulled some strings.”

While the hotel manager who did indeed adore the first lady of metal had a room prepared, they got themselves ready, a cab pulling up beside the bus ten minutes later. The usual smog clouded thick over the city, the heat of the late summer morning beginning to rise, but it truly had nothing on what the two people sitting in the back of that cab felt burning between them.

For Jade, she didn’t dare look at him too much, save straddling his lap and beginning what she was longing for right there on the back seat. She did, however, allow her hand to trail up and down the hard muscle of his thigh, knowing she was going to enjoy every last second of acquainting herself with the ripped body beneath his clothes, the thought alone leaving her with the familiar ache of arousal tingling through her apex.

The check-in was done rapidly, Adrien insisting on giving Gustav his card, a small battle between him and Jade enduring that he eventually won through staunch insistence. They were escorted down to Bungalow Three, famed as the place actor John Belushi had died from a drug overdose, Jade tipping the bellboy before he left.

“Finally,” she spoke, sliding her jacket off and casting it onto a nearby chair, “you, me, a hell of a lot of privacy and a nice, big bed.” Her gaze locked to his, blue meeting green unblinkingly as she removed her t shirt, then her bra, sauntering towards him. “Whatever shall we do next?”

Feeling her bare breasts brush against the cotton of the black t-shirt he wore, her lips pressing softly against his throat as her fingers trailed through his hair, his heart almost broke ribs with the severity it began to thump with. His reply came in the form of a fiery kiss, lifting her with ease, and charging her in the direction of the bedroom.

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