Summary: "Ew. Get away from me. No--not you. You stay."
AO3
A/N: I chose to do this for Emily because the line feels so perfect for her. I've never really written her before so this was a lot of fun!! So fun in fact that I'm pumping this out before work haha. I hope you all like it!
Prompts found here!
Tag List: @multifandomfix @escapetodreamworld @ghostsunderstoodmysoul
Warning(s): None
Though it was par for the course by now, you’ll never get used to rounding the corner and hearing Emily’s frazzled “I love my job, I love my job, I love my job.” With a job like her’s, it was impossible to blame her for how she had to stay afloat. Miranda—amazing and talented as she is—can be the devil to work for.
You came in early on the hunch that something was going to go terribly wrong. Sometime mid-trip, you wondered if that was just how it felt to work at Runway anymore; but you were too close to the office to turn around. When you stroll through the doors to see everything in pure chaos, you know it was the right choice.
The first thing you register is Nigel running past you. Not a speed-walk or a jog, sprinting. Jocelyn follows at his heels babbling under her breath. On instinct, you make a beeline for the desks outside of Miranda’s office. If they were acting like this, she couldn’t be here yet.
That’s when Emily’s mantra reaches your ears and you know the day is going up in flames. The second assistant is silent, staring between her computer screen and the papers on her desk like she couldn’t read a word of it. She looked haunted. Dark shadows under her eyes and pale skin tell you she is either very sick or severely malnourished—though you saw that often enough—and you need to get her away from Emily before she ruins anything.
“You,” You say, pointing to the second assistant as both snapped their heads to you, “Go get something to eat. I don’t care if it’s a dried cranberry or something greasy, go, and don’t come back until you can do your job.”
Emily hisses out your name and you ignore it until the second assistant leaves, then she snaps, “What do you think you’re doing!?”
“Getting her out of the way. She wasn’t going to be of any help to you, Em. Now, tell me what’s going on.”
Emily takes a deep breath and all of the days problems are unloaded; The Central Park shoot was canceled for some official city event, the new collection of Prada belts have gone missing, Miranda wants the run-through pushed to this afternoon, on and on and on it goes until you’re worried Emily is going to pass out.
You step forward and place a hand on either of her cheeks, missing the blush that erupts there, “Breathe, Em, you’re better to us alive.”
She takes a deep breath and when you’re sure she’s calmed, you offer a smile, and launch right into your plan of attack. You’d been Miranda’s assistant too once. When you’d done your time, you asked to move to the makeup department with Serena; you’d always loved painting faces and Serena was a master. Miranda had been pleased—as pleased as she could be—to oblige.
You were a bit rusty, but when you’ve played the role of Miranda’s assistant, it never leaves you. It’s like second nature to sit back at the desk and start rifling through papers.
“I’ll call the city and arrange everything with Central Park. Call the Closet staff and let them know that anything they’re working on currently is on pause, finding those Prada belts are first priority unless they all want to be out of a job. If Miranda wants the run-through today, she’ll get it, and I need at least three passable spreads from each department,” You’re dialing the line to the makeup department, smiling and saying smoothly down the line, “Serena darling, I’m with Emily, we’re in crisis mode. Can you do me a favor? Yes, I’ll explain later, but there is a pair of scuffed Manolo Blahniks in the Closet that are supposed to be used in the run-through today. Can you fill in the scuffs with eyeliner until we can send them back? You’re the best. Ciao.”
The wide-eyes and look of awe from Emily make you stop up short. You forgot that she’s never seen you in this role; by the time she came to Runway, you were comfortably in the makeup department with Serena. Offering a shy smile, you get to work, trying to ignore the way her gaze makes you blush.
It takes some subtle threatening and maneuvering, but the Central Park shoot is back on. The team will have to work fast but it’s better than losing the whole thing. Emily informs you that they’ve found the Prada belts and they’re being sent up. Staff around Runway are also bringing up their spreads for the run-through to see if they’ll pass.
Serena stops by with the formerly-scuffed Blahniks in hand and you examine them with a hard eye. If you’re really looking for it, you can tell they’re filled in. You hope Miranda isn’t hyperfocused on details today because they’ll pass if she’s distracted.
By the time all is said and done, you have an hour and a half before Miranda is supposed to show. You’re only waiting on the run-through staff at this point. Sitting on the edge of Emily’s desk and talking through the changes—pausing when she answers a phone call—is nice. It’s a brief moment of calm you rarely get with the assistant. Sure, the two of you go out sometimes, but it’s different seeing her at work. She’s in charge here when Miranda’s gone.
You believe that one day, should Miranda ever step-down, that Emily is next in line for Editor-in-Chief. No one sees what she does and has the experience at Miranda’s side. It’d be perfect for her.
You’re waiting patiently as Emily takes a call when her face drops, “Emily?” You whisper.
She hangs up the phone in silence. Her eyes, now wide, look up at you. There is pure and unrestrained horror in them. You feel a pit growing in your gut.
“Annie just canceled. She’s sick.” Emily says.
It takes you a few moments to realize she means Annie Leibovitz, the photographer for the Central Park shoot. You want to rip your hair out. Everything was going so well. But instead, you take her hands, and start to slowly walk her through how she can fix it.
You’re interrupted by everyone walking in with their run-through spreads. Seeing you and Emily at the same desk, they crowd around, talking a mile a minute and shoving garments in your face. A gaudy rhinestone belt nearly smacks you in the eye, but you’re still trying to deliver comments on each item. The noise is overwhelming.
“Enough!” Emily declares.
She’s moved away from the crowd and when you move towards her, the whole crowd follows. They’re silently holding out their garments now.
“Ew. Get away from me,” Emily snaps and you startle, stepping back just as everyone else does. She grabs your arm and pulls you back into her space, “No–not you. You stay. The rest of you organize your things in Miranda’s office and go, we’ll call if anything is especially heinous.”
They all pause and stare.
“Now!”
They scramble as if Miranda made the call herself. You watch it all happen with a small smile, impressed at the way Emily took control of everything. She looks at you and shares your smile. Neither of you think about how she’s still holding onto you.
All of them leave quickly, heads down and muttering apologies as they pass. You barely hold in a laugh. It’s only when she gives your arm a gentle squeeze that you realize you’re still touching.
You stare at one another for a long minute and you’re weighing the dangers of kissing her; so far you’re most worried about how it’d smudge her lipstick, the rest seems worth the risk. But her cell beeps and the two of you reluctantly separate.
Her lips purse and she takes in a long breath, “Miranda’s on her way.”
⋆˙⊹ blurb —. dana finding out you (also) wear glasses
notes: literally just thoughts i had bc i can't stop thinking about her
you're on the back end of your double shift when your left contact falls out, the dry plastic lens mocking you from the floor. you go to the locker room, dig through your bag in hopes of finding your spare pair you keep for instances like this.
when you come up empty, you sigh and remember this was your backup set. making a mental note to bring in a handful of contacts tomorrow, you quickly grab your glasses.
you barely make it one step back into the ed before your name is being yelled, mckay needing help with an incoming trauma. as you work to transfer the patient, cassie looks up at you.
"glasses?" she raises a brow. "since when?"
"since always." you shrug, your hands moving quickly to hook up an iv.
"huh. suits you," she compliments before turning her attention back to the patient, vitals and directions spewing from her mouth.
in all the chaos of trying to save a life, you completely miss the way dana's eyes spot you and narrow when she sees you donning a pair of tortoise-shell glasses. since when did you wear glasses?
the next couple hours, you're whisked from trauma to trauma, barely having a second to catch your breath. a couple of your co-workers—sans your roommates who had seen you wearing your glasses around the apartment plenty of times—made a few comments about your new accessories, but quickly got over it once the initial shock washed over.
when you finally find a minute to catch a break, the endless influx of patients starting to slow down, you round the nurses' station, tablet in hand.
"did mr. o'neil get discharged?" you ask dana, your focus still on your screen.
"not yet." she answers succinctly before holding out something for you. "here."
looking up, you frown. "what's that?"
"contacts." she peers over the bridge of her glasses, giving you a deadpan look.
you take the box from her and look at it. lo and behold it is a box of your contacts, your brand and prescription down to the tee.
"um, where did you get this?"
"called in a favor from upstairs." dana shrugs with ease.
"why?"
"because–" she stands up and leans against the desk as she lowers her voice– "your glasses are distracting."
for a second, you feel your knees weaken at her suggestive tone. sure, you'd felt her eyes on you the past couple of hours, but you thought it was her worried you were on a double, not because of these.
"ha," you snort, recovering from your momentary shock. "pot meet kettle."
"what?" she laughs, a smug smirk forming on her lips, one you just wanna kiss off her face.
"you think my glasses are distracting?" you lean forward against the counter. "imagine how i feel every. single. day." you move your face towards hers with each word, your lips just inches apart, before you abruptly turn around.
"thanks for the contacts, evans!" you call over your shoulder, holding the box up.
"fuckin' tease," dana mutters as she watches you retreat towards the staffroom.
genuinely one of the best digital artists i know 🪲
give them a follow or give me your money 🫵 /j (but seriously, do go and support them!!! show our fellow digital artists the appreciation they deserve <3)
This is genuinely one of the best stories I’ve ever read. The new chapters always brighten up my day, and make me look forward to the next — showing my love and appreciation, because the author is also an incredibly sweet, loving and wonderful person <3
Thank you dearly, Alan Rickman, for bringing such a desolate, yet absolutely divine character and their story to life. I don’t believe it would’ve been the same, otherwise.
No pressure at all to write this— I was wondering if you’d be up for a ‘she fell first but they fell harder’ with Melissa Schemmenti & biker/alternative!reader who’s new to teaching. Maybe they take on the theatre or art program to help the students find ways to express themselves and learn more about who they are as individuals?
As always, been loving your writing and can’t wait for what’s to come! :)
To Be Yours: Melissa Schemmenti x Reader
Word count: 5.2k
Warnings: none, very tame angst, alt!reader, swooning melissa
a/n: Here is the song referenced in the story hehe. I coincidentally love this songggg for obvious reasons.
☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ ★
After a few months of anxiety, adjustments, and awkward socializing, you finally began to settle in within your new role. There was still a lot to be learned but you felt prepared and less nervous as the days went on. You had gotten a routine down for your classes and started to get to know the kids better and as individuals. Many of them expressed how much they liked you in comparison to the last teacher, and a few had already opened up to you about themselves.
You were grateful that they trusted you and could fully emerge into their work for your class, without feeling too scared, bored, or annoyed with your methods and the curriculum.
The one issue with your job however, was one you observed on your very first day, as soon as you walked into the break room for coffee.
“And here is where we- yall, eat lunch, you can put yours in the fridge.” Ava said as she finished the tour of the school and you smiled. Your eyes scanned the room, taking in faces to remember later. Then your eyes landed on someone whose face instantly burned into your mind, you didn't know who she was or why she grabbed your attention so, but you knew instantly she would be an issue. Almost as if she read your mind she spoke up with a cocky grin.
“Welcome, you must be the new teacher.” Melissa said when she noticed the way your eyes gawked at her and you nodded with a smile.
“I'm the Theatre and Film teacher.” you said proudly and she grinned at your enthusiasm.
“Yeah, I can tell. Got a real JD vibe to you.” she smirked and you scoffed.
“As in the guy from Heathers? That tried to blow up the school? Not so sure that’s a compliment.” You whispered as to not sound crazy but her smile didn't fade and she just got up to head to the door.
“You’re right, you're much more Janis Ian huh?” she nodded and you felt your hands get sweaty at her remarks. You knew there was no way she meant that in a good way.
“So would that make you the Regina George in this situation?” You crossed your arms in an attempt to look confident while also hiding your shaking hands. The woman's smile dropped for a moment when she realized you already had the balls to challenge her, but then the corners of her mouth went up once more when she thought harder about the question.
“Yeah, I guess so.” she laughed and walked out and left you more confused than anything. You blushed a bit in embarrassment at your lame reply but just shook it off and went about your day.
Now, all these months later, you found yourself in a terrible position. Melissa never seemed to adapt to you and picked on you nearly every day, but you couldn't stay away from her. Surely to others you were akin to a lost puppy, following around the person that dared to spare them a glance for too long. Even if those glances she gave were condescending and irritating.
You seemed to seek her approval, make her laugh, feel wanted by her. Anytime she chose you to help her with lunch duty or recess, you felt special. When you managed to land a joke that she couldn't help to giggle at, instead of an eye roll.
Sure you knew this was all pathetic to think and desire, but you couldn't help it. Her red hair and emerald eyes just drew you in. And the two of you made quite good friends despite her teasing. You had things in common, like the same foods, movies, & loved to gossip. You could make an hour feel like five minutes with the amount of banter you had.
You were sitting outside, enjoying your afternoon coffee before lunch was over. The leaves were falling slowly, orange and red streaks dropping in your peripheral. It was peaceful, chilly but bearable, and you just sat with your thoughts. Well, thought.
“Hey kid.” A deep voice called behind you and you flinched gently, turning with a smile to meet the redhead's gaze.
“What’s up?” you asked and she shrugged as she came to sit next to you on the bench.
“Just wanted some fresh air.” she smiled and you nodded.
“Got any plans for this fine Friday evening?” you asked after a few moments of comfortable silence and she shrugged once more.
“I dunno. Probably get a drink. I hate sittin’ at home.” she muttered and you nodded. Your next inquirement left your mouth before you could stop it.
“Wanna meet somewhere?” you asked and she looked at you with a shocked smile.
“Hmm, sure. I’m picking the place though.” she quipped and you nodded.
“Alright then, I'll meet you there at nine.” You spoke softly, carefully. Her smile returned and she got up before turning and walking inside, your eyes following her frame as she disappeared. Your heart was bouncing in your chest and your hand came to rest firmly over it. Fear flooded your body and you thought the organ may burst from your chest.
You shook your head and headed to class to finish the rest of your work day, knowing you would have time to freak out later when you weren't teaching. Though the energy allowed for a more engaging drama lesson.
The last minute decision you made would prove to be a bad one when you pulled up to the bar, on your motorcycle. You didn't plan to drink that much, just enough to get through the initial shock of seeing Melissa outside of business hours. It would eventually fade and you'd get home safe and sound, you’ve done this before with friends and you know your limits.
Plus, you wanted to show Melissa you weren't as shy, and timid as you often acted at work. You had to act that way for the kids, and to maintain professionalism. Something Melissa doesn't care about regardless of if she is at work.
You wore a simple and rather comfortable but alluring outfit, your hair down, and boots to make the ride safe. What you didn't expect was to be greeted by the woman as you pulled in.
You could see her leaning against the outside of the bar, watching as you pulled in, not quite realizing just who she was seeing. It wasn't until you were parked a few feet from her and you were taking off your helmet that she realized.
Her arms crossed and she sucked her teeth.
“Well, well, you know who also had a motorcycle?” she said with a cocky grin and you rolled your eyes.
“Dont-”
“JD.” You gave her a sarcastic tilt of your head and she continued.
“Just saying, interesting coincidence.” she scoffed as she teased you, her leg pushed off the wall to walk closer to you. You couldn't see the way her face was flushed at the sight of you. Being surprised wasn't a favorite of Melissa's, and this was a huge one. She knew you had some edge to you, but she never expected this. Nor did she expect to be so attracted to it.
“Cool place.” you said, changing the subject and she looked over your face. Big eyes stared up at the neon sign of the building and she admired the way it illuminated your face.
“You think so?” She asked surprised and your eyes tore away from the bright glow and met hers with a smile.
“Well I haven't been inside yet, but I trust you.” You laughed and she rolled her eyes, her hand grabbed yours and she led you inside. You ignored the ripple of heat that numbed your fingertips and just took deep breaths, trying to distract from the feeling of your hand in hers.
The inside was just as cool as you suspected, and your eyes were immediately drawn to the wall of pinball machines, and the warm glow of a jukebox.
A smile prevented you from saying a word and you just followed Melissa to the bar to order. You allowed her to order for you and sparked up some small talk as you found a table by the windows.
“So, tell me about yourself Melissa.” You asked and she huffed.
“Really that's all you got? Okay my favorite color is red, I love the Eagles..” you stopped her with a small laugh.
“No- I mean, where did you grow up, do you have any siblings?” You asked and she sipped her beer before answering, you smiled and answered the questions as well.
“Okay, why are you teaching here?” she asked with an interrogative tone.
“I enjoy this city and this program I run, and the kids.” you said with a smile.
“Why don't you take the bike to school?” she poked and you looked down with a smile.
“I like to reserve it for fun activities, and want to stay professional.” You shrugged and she squinted slightly at you, her mind running with confused thoughts and attempts to read you. She continued to draw blanks when trying to figure you out.
“You were married once, yeah?” you asked bluntly and she tensed her jaw in warning, but nodded.
“Yeah I was.”
“What happened there?” you continued and she glared at you. Still you just stared at her with a genuine curiosity.
“Married young and it went how that always does.” She answered finally and you understood every word she spoke. Not pressing further you looked down at your drink.
“What about you? What is your deal?” she asked and you scoffed.
“What is my deal?” you mocked and she rolled her eyes and urged you on.
“I just, have really high standards.” The simplicity of your answer though it was calculated was not convincing and she tilted her head and flattened her lips.
“And trust issues?” she added and you scoffed.
“Doesnt everyone?”
“Fine. Why didn't your last relationship work out?” she pried and you hesitated. Knowing you wanted nothing more than her trust, you answered her invasive inquirement. Your voice began but came out shakier than expected, and you laughed awkwardly.
“Hey I’m just being nosey, you don't have to tell me anything.” She said in a softer tone than you’d ever heard from the woman before.
“It was just a lot.” You said and she nodded.
“Do you still talk with your Ex?” you asked and she shrugged.
“Only when necessary. He wasn't my last relationship though.” she added.
“Oh, well why did the last one end?” you asked and she gave you the same annoyed glare.
“You ask a lot of questions.”
“How else do I get to know you?”
“We wanted different things.” she said simply and you frowned.
“Kids?” you asked and she scoffed with a muttered ‘yeah right.’
“He wanted to get married.” she said casually and your eyes observed every inch of her expression. “I like my freedom.” she finished and you giggled before taking your own jab at her.
“AKA, trust issues. Now who’s talking.”
She rolled her eyes in response and you looked around, your eyes spotting the bathroom and suddenly having the urge to go.
“It’s not a bad thing to not wanna be tied to some guy you barely know.” she said with a slight irritation in her voice, clearly you had unintentionally hit a nerve.
“I'll be back, bathroom.” you said and she nodded, you decided now would be a good time to step away so the tensions didn't grow anymore from your remarks.
On the way back you stopped at the jukebox to flip through it, seeing how many songs you recognized and if any would be worth the quarters.
That's when you saw the perfect song and paused, looking up towards the table where the glowing redhead sat. She was getting up to walk to the bar, empty drink in hand and you smiled. Your hands scooped out a few quarters and dropped them in, flipping to select the song with a grin. You hit play and watched as it loaded and began to play the beginning notes, your eyes turned to the bar and you smiled.
The confused woman was looking up at the speakers with sparkling eyes and furrowed brows before turning to look in the direction of the jukebox. When her eyes met yours you felt your stomach drop and it took all your energy to remain upright. She sucked her teeth and shook her head at you and you just smiled, arms crossed, hip against the machine as you admired her from this distance, being able to see all of her in such a lively setting. Her appearance stood out amongst the sea of boring patrons and you watched as her cheeks grew flustered.
But back home he’ll always run
To sweet Melissa
The lyrics rang out and she grabbed her drink before walking over to you with an intimidating gaze.
“It’s a great song.” You said as she grew near and tilted her head with sarcasm.
“What are you doing? Trying to embarrass me?” she said with a slightly raised voice and you shook your head quickly.
“No, never. No one here knows that’s your name.” You pointed out and she shook her head.
“I come here all the time.” she muttered as she pinched the bridge of her nose.
“It just made me think of you. I thought it would cheer you up.” You said, your voice now hushed and small, feeling as if you were just scolded. Waves of embarrassment washed over you and she let out a sigh, realizing the harshness of her words. She couldn't help the way her heart melted at your words. The nerves tingled in her stomach, a feeling she hadn't experienced since she was young. Her head shook and she snapped out of it quickly.
“Thank you. I actually was named after this song.” She said with a hint of humour and you smiled.
“Its one of my favorites.” You replied and she smiled at you before gesturing to head back to the table.
You spent the night talking endlessly about everything, childhood, high school, aspirations, hobbies. Whatever your mind inquired you spoke out and she got more comfortable around you as you went on.
Now, three months later, your crush was still prevalent, and Melissa had completely fallen for you.
She would observe you from across the break room any chance she got, eavesdropping on all your conversations, and taking note of the things that made you laugh, the people that made you laugh. There were days she would make excuses to switch lunch duty with others just to see you.
On occasion she would pop into one of your classes, watching as you gave a presentation. On her favorite days she would stumble upon you reading an excerpt or enacting a short monologue. Seeing the way you challenged your students and led with example, your emotions contorting in every way you told them to. This intrigued Melissa, she had never met anyone like you. You challenged her and kept her wondering more, desperate for answers about you.
The issue was that you had no idea, and you had been actively working on getting her out of your head though nothing seemed to cure you. You lacked the confidence to make any sort of move on the woman and you felt the more time went on, the more she would only see you as a friend. You weren't even sure if she liked women.
You decided to test yourself and the alluring woman. Separating from her as often as you could. Work grew more boring, but you managed to have excuses for everything, thankfully it was nearing evaluations so the kids needed extra attention and this took up more of your time.
However, one evening after you had a late tutoring session with two kids on their scene, Melissa managed to find you.
“I see where the two of you are getting hung up on, this scene is very- emotionally… indifferent. It requires you to touch on many different emotions at once.” You said to the two tweens before you that were nodding as they listened.
“We just can't figure out how to act out so many emotions in a scene with both of us.” One said and you nodded as you paced around the small stage, and dramatized your thinking face.
Melissa had entered through the back stage door and was watching as you helped the girls.
“What are you afraid of?” you asked genuinely and they raised a brow. “Why are you worried about having too many emotions in a scene?” you clarified and they looked at you, then each other, and shrugged.
“You have to work with me here, you guys are really good. I'd hate for this one hiccup to put a riff in your final performance.” you said with a playful tone, trying to encourage an answer out of them and they flashed small smirks before nodding.
“We don't want to look stupid.”
You frowned at the reply and Melissa felt her heart tug at the sight of genuine compassion on your face.
“What makes you think this scene is foolish?” you asked and looked towards the other girl who hadn't spoken.
“My character is basically crying while hers is yelling. It's just very dramatic.” She spoke up and you nodded.
“Have either of you been yelled at? Or yelled at someone else?” you asked and they both nodded and you nodded with them.
“Did you or the other person cry?” you followed up and they nodded again.
“In that moment, when you felt hurt, or when you inflicted hurt, did you ever stop and think, man this is so dramatic?” you asked and they relaxed their tense shoulders and shook their heads.
“No.” they said in unison and you nodded with a small smile.
“The beauty of acting is that you are taking these two-dimensional words, and bringing them to life.” you quipped and they smiled.
“It's like magic.” one said and you motioned in agreement.
“You are making this out of thin air. Using only your voice and movements as tools. When you are on stage, in front of a crowd, they are ready for a story. It's what evokes emotions in them and keeps them interested, feeling understood. They want to see all the raw, realistic, graphic nature of human interactions.” You finished and their smiles grew and you handed them back their scripts with your notes in the margins.
“Thank you Miss. L/n.” they both said and you waved them off.
“Keep practicing and I will check in with you at the end of the week, okay?”
They nodded and exited the room and you smiled to yourself. You began packing up, only light from the dimly lit stage lamps to aid you. Not long after they had disappeared you heard footsteps backstage and you looked up.
Her red hair looked like flames in the warm lighting and you took in a shaky breath.
“Oh, hey.” you said softly and she put a hand to her hip.
“Long time no see.” Her voice was low but calm and you nodded.
“Lots of tutoring and office hours, how have you been?” you asked to turn the heat off of you and she nodded.
“Fine, look- cut the shit Y/n.” she said bluntly and you grew pale.
“W-what do you mean?” you said confused, not daring to look at the woman.
“You have been keeping your distance, and I just wanna say I-I know the truth, Y/n.” Her tone was low and velvety and it struck your core. You could feel the weight of her words crash down on you and you froze. Her body language, tone, and expression told you she really did know the reason for your absence. You shook your head and she nodded with a wicked grin.
“You’re not that good an actress Miss L/n. I know how you feel about me.” she said with a cocky conviction and you let out a shaky breath, her face now a few feet from yours.
In your eyes her reaction seemed like one of disgust, and judgement. Surely she was going to make your life hell now that she knew your secret. You had to deny all you could, she couldn't know how you felt about her. It would only make her think you were immature or crazy.
“I don't know what you’re talking about.”
Her brow twitched at this and her emerald eyes flashed with confusion.
Deep down she felt it, she saw you the way she knew you needed to be seen and yet you wouldn't confess. She was laying it out for you, ready to return the sentiment the minute you said so, and you weren't taking the opportunity? Had she misread it all entirely?
“That’s how you're gonna play?” she said after a moment of contemplation and you nodded slowly.
“I’m sorry Melissa, but you’re wrong.”
“Fine. Have a good night Miss L/n.” she said annoyed as she left briskly, the door swinging shut behind her.
You couldn't help the shame that fell over you at the actions and words you had just delivered to the redhead. The confusion in her eyes, the shock in her voice, what was it all for? Why was she upset that you refused to be subjected to the bullying that would come if you had admitted to her accusations?
Melissa stormed down the hall to her room, grabbing her things and speeding home in a fury.
The following Saturday night Melissa found herself at her regular bar, enjoying the peace of the noise and sipping her drink in solace. She watched the men hit on women, and the women laughing with their friends hysterically, the sights just bored Melissa. She didn't care about what others were doing, all she could think of was you.
You weren't like the people Melissa typically enjoyed hanging out with, this only confused her more on why she was drawn into you. You had a slightly alternative style yet a ‘cool’ aura to you that would normally put her off, since she associated this with standard troublesome bad girl traits that she had never gotten along with. However, the moment you would speak, teach, or smile she would be focused on you and eager to hear every word you said. Your genuine tone and honest replies kept her challenged without ever feeling threatened.
How did you manage to infiltrate her mind this way? Why did you lie to her? Surely you had to feel something for her. Why else did you follow her around, laugh at all her jokes, and always defend her?
She huffed angrily into her glass, squeezing it as her knuckles went white. Frustration faded out as the sounds of a familiar song could be heard playing above.
When you were deciding ways to spend your Saturday night you had decided on a bike ride, and passed the bar on your way back home. Your hazy logic convinced you that the last time you were here with Melissa on a Friday meant surely she wouldn't be here on a Saturday. However as you walked in through the back, you spotted the woman instantly in a barstool. Her red hair was shining in the lights, her hand gripped tightly on a glass as she brought it to her lips and took gentle but large sips.
You had started to back up, planning to sneak right out as if you were never here at all, but the longer your eyes stayed on her, the harder it grew to look away. When you did finally tear your eyes from her frame you looked down beside you and smirked when you saw the large jukebox. You flicked your eyes up, scanning her body language and expression before slipping in some quarters and hitting start on the familiar song.
A steady sight remained on her as the notes filled the air and you watched as she reluctantly turned her head over to the jukebox, deep emeralds meeting yours with an invisible force.
You felt your skin grow hot under her gaze and tried to remain stoic. You smiled at her from across the bar and she couldn't help the small grin that tugged at her lips before she took the last swig of her drink. You walked over to the corner near the machine, one that was further from the chatter and you could feel Melissa walking over.
“What are you doing here?” she asked and you shrugged.
“I was passing through.” You stated simply and she crossed her arms.
“What’s with the song then?” she questioned and you fidgeted with your keys.
“Come on.” you said before walking past her to the back door. She followed but not without some complaints. As soon as you stepped out you were straddling your bike and holding the helmet out to her.
“Get on.” You stated sweetly, offering it up with a smile.
“What? No, I don't trust you on that thing.” she scoffed and you gave her a knowing look.
“I don’t wanna fight with you Mel, you're my only friend at work. Consider this a peace ride.” you offered and she felt her chest burning at your words. Of course she wanted to get on with you, feel you pressed against her, your hair tickling her face. The familiar pain in her chest returned as she looked at you and the way your eyes sparkled up at her.
“Fine, one lap.” She said and you nodded. She put the helmet on and you reached up to buckle it for her, your eyes locking on hers as you smiled. Butterflies had filled the stubborn woman's stomach, and they weren’t in response to the risky decision she was making.
She swung her leg over the bike and got comfortable on the seat. Her hands not placing down anywhere just yet as she fidgeted with her jacket.
“You can put your hands around my waist, hooked on my belt loops, or holding onto my shoulders okay? Whatever is more comfortable.” you said as if you had rehearsed this before. She nodded and her hands hesitated before finding your shoulders. Still a chill went up your spine at her touch and you played it off.
“Ready?” you asked and she nodded. You pulled out of the driveway slowly, smoothly, and allowed her to get used to the feeling before picking up speed.
She stared in awe at the forest that began to surround you as you went up and around the hill before turning to head back towards the bar. She admired the moon in its peak, the way the blue cast of it made the green trees shine even more under its light. As you picked up speed her hands subconsciously slinked down to your hips, grabbing your belt loops with her fingers.
Your breath shuttered at the feeling of her hands dragging down your body and you focused on the road, trying to ignore the fluttering in your stomach. In your mirrors you could see the way her eyes took in everything around you. The view between the winding mountain road amongst the clear skies, sights of the city peeking through the trees caught your eye. You took a turn to extend the ride by a few minutes and she didn't say anything in protest which caused you to grin.
Melissa was starstruck, she felt more alive here against you than she had in forever. The way her chest tensed and her body filled with longing at the sight of you caused her some distress. After the events of tonight though, she knew you had to be lying to her about your lack of feelings. Surely you just hadn't realized her efforts were more than friendly these past few weeks.
Soon her hands were sliding to wrap around your waist and you fought the urge to look down at them, taking in deep breaths as you felt your stomach tighten. Pink cheeks grew icy hot from the contrast of the warmth of your blushing against the frigid wind.
You pulled into the parking lot and parked towards the lot exit, the large neon sign for the bar glowing above. You shut your bike off and waited for her to get off before you followed suit. You frowned when you felt her hands moving from your waist, but could feel the way they lingered before letting go. You helped her with the helmet and smirked at the large grin on her face.
“Hon, that was amazing.” she said with a genuine excitement as she fixed her hair and you smiled in return.
“Im glad you enjoyed it.”
She stared at you as you rested on your bike seat and she stepped closer. Her cheeks were flushed and you finally had the notion to believe that maybe it was more than just the weather causing the redness.
“Im sorry about cornering you.” Her words were quiet and you shook your head.
“Dont be, you were right Mel.” You started and her eyes grew wider.
“But I know nothing can come of this, and that’s why I've been avoiding you, I wanted to just get you out of my system.” You huffed and she frowned before stepping closer.
“Y/n, Ive been enamored with you these last few months.” Her lips let the sentence out slowly and you hung on every word, your heart beating fast.
“I don't know why- or how, but I think about you constantly.” She stammered out and you smiled as you listened to her mini revelation. Your eyes were dazzling as you watched her speak in a hypnotic gaze, heart fluttering at her confessions and you couldn't help the large smile on your face.
“Melissa,” you interrupted, “You saying you have a crush on me?” you teased with some sincerity and she shook her head and refrained from rolling her eyes.
“Hon, I’m saying that… I really like you, and I haven't felt like this with someone since, awhile.” She finished and you felt your stomach twist in joyful sadness and adoration.
“I know you have been trying to avoid me, but I can’t be away from you like this for much longer, I want to be with you.”
Manicured hands came up to gently stroke your cheek, tracing your jaw before hesitantly tilting your head up and towards hers. She leaned in and placed a tender kiss to your lips, slow and gentle but with a lack of confidence you didn't expect to ever feel from the woman.
When you kissed her back she finally leaned into it fully, her lips moving slowly with yours as her hands cupped your face and she kissed you with a mesmerizing and addicting taste. She pulled away and you smiled at her.
“And here I was trying to get over you.” you joked and she raised a brow.
“Did it work?” she asked, her hands running through your hair.
“Not at all.” you laughed and she held your face as she leaned down and pulled you in for a deep, passionate kiss. You held onto her waist and she gripped your hair lightly before pulling away.
“Meet at my place in an hour?” she said suddenly and you wasted no time in agreeing.
I LOVE THIS!!!! you brought my alt!reader dreams to life fr 🤟🏼🙂↕️🙏🏼
Also thank you for accepting and beautifully writing my ask, love <3 I very much appreciate you, all your works and the effort you put into each piece! 🫂
The most amazing thing to me about Jane Austen is that she staunchly refuses to leave any woman behind. It doesn't matter if a woman is an antagonist, a side character, or what, the reader is assured that they will be okay. This is so different from fiction at the time or even now.
Marianne Dashwood, living a plot perfect for a tragic death by illness to preserve the beauty of her first attachment and disappointment? Nope, she lives and loves with her whole heart again. Maria Rushworth, the fallen woman who cheated on her husband does not die for her crimes or even fall into poverty or prostitution, her father and Aunt Norris will provide for her. She is punished, but she's protected. Lydia Bennet? Her two sisters will provide for her for the rest of her life. Her husband's debt will not destroy her. Miss Bates? There is an entire community around her no matter what happens and her newly rich niece will provide. No woman is even left as a governess, Miss Taylor is Mrs. Weston, Jane Fairfax becomes Mrs. Churchill instead. Mrs. Smith is pulled out of her indigent state by Anne and Wentworth.
The only woman Jane Austen allows to suffer a terrible fate is off-page and dead long before the novel begins: Eliza Brandon. Eliza Williams, her mother's affair baby, is ruined by Willoughby. Colonel Brandon could easily have washed his hands of her and her affair child, but he doesn't. Eliza Williams is going to be okay. Her child will be okay.
Antagonist women never fall into poverty or die for their crimes, most of them are even in loving marriages. Fanny Dashwood is cruel to her mother and sisters-in-law, one could imagine her falling low in karmic retribution, but no, she's fine. Lady Susan, the delightful anti-heroine, marries a baronet at the end of her novel. No punishment looms on the horizon for her promiscuity and deception. Caroline Bingley has a loving family that will never turn her away and an independent fortune. Mary Crawford has a loving sister. Isabella Thorpe may have lost the big prize, but she has her mother. Never is a woman thrown to abuse or poverty, even when they have attacked other women. The only punishment would come from their own conscience or regret for the goodness they have thrown away.
Jane Austen somehow imagines a world where even the worst women are safe.
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