#and I don’t have a ton planned for chapter 4

[the-cookie-of-doom]

I’m looking at my new outline for the next chapter of Pas de Deux and just. Crying. There’s so much that needs to happen 😭

[munsonluhvr]

HOW TO FAKE IT (MINI SERIES) (PART 2)

contents: the weekend trip to the cabin has arrived and Tina has an agenda planned to challenge you and Steve's 'relationship'... word count - 6k

notes: fully believe this is not my best work; I had a ton of homework that had me distracted so those who are reading chapter - please come back for part 3 I promise it's going to be much better lol.

installments: part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4

taglist: @frostandflamesfanfic

It surprised you how easy it was to convince your parents to let you go to the Cunningham’s family cabin; word had got back to your parents that you and Steve made your debut as a couple at the party several days ago. To say the least, they were thrilled. 

Your parents have always loved Steve, finding him the most trustworthy male in Hawkins to be close friends with their daughter. On multiple occasions they had suggested you and Steve should date but you always shook your head, grimacing at the idea. Now they finally have their wish. 

You stand on the side of your bed, folding your pants into your duffle bag. Your mom sits on the bed beside you, folding your few shirts into your duffle bag as well. “Do we need to have the talk?” Your mom asks, glancing over at you. “It’s nothing to be afraid of, we aren’t those religious people who think sex is bad, there’s nothing wrong with wanting to-.“ 

“Mom,” you say, interrupting her. “I don’t need to have the talk; I took physical education class.” 

Your mom laughs softly, shaking her head. “Just be safe.” 

A few hours later you stand on your porch, duffle bag in hand, waiting to see Steve pull up. The Cunningham’s cabin is two hours away, up north in Indiana. The cabin, according to Steve, is on a lake, in a small resort area. You wonder to yourself how many people will show up and how vicious Tina plans on being. Your head already aches and you haven’t even left yet. 

Moments later, Steve’s car pulls up, the passenger window already rolled down. “There’s my gorgeous girlfriend,” Steve yells, his signature sunglasses covering the top half of his face. 

You wince. “Don’t yell like that,” you call back. “I don’t want the neighbors to hear.” 

Steve puts a hand on his chest. “Ashamed of being seen with me already?” 

You give Steve a fake smile, opening the car door. You get in, shoving your bag in the back seat. “If I was ashamed I wouldn’t be sending my ass up a river to stay at Chrissy Cunningham’s cabin, with Tina there, for you.” 

Steve presses the gas, sending the car lurching forward. “And that is why you are the ultimate best friend.” 

You hum, strapping your seatbelt on across your chest. “What would you do without me?” 

The two hours it takes to get to the cabin flies by quickly due to Steve insisting on developing a detailed game plan for the weekend. 

“We need to make it believable but also leave from for Tina to get jealous.” Steve says, glancing over at you. Beside him, you’re in the passenger seat watching Indiana farms pass by.

“I feel like we’re doing a pretty good job doing that so far; Tina looked like she wanted to kill me when she invited us to the cabin.” 

Steve laughs. “She really does not like you, and she’s never been afraid to show that.” 

“No, she hasn’t and that’s the best part of this arrangement. Dating your best friend who Tina was always threatened by to make her jealous? Brilliant.” You say, glancing at Steve. A strand of his hair dangles on Steve’s forehead, the sun streaming into the car window and dancing across his freckled face, illuminating his soft features. 

Steve changes the subject briefly, noticing how he’s passing several exits on the highway. “Look at the map really quick, I want to make sure we’re going in the right direction.” 

 Eventually, you make it to the Cunningham’s cabin, multiple cars already parked on the gravel driveway. The cabin is set back, hidden from the road by rows of tall, bushy trees. The house is big, a classic cabin style, the largest house on the street. Even from the end of the driveway, you can see the blue water of the lake that outstretches for miles behind the cabin. 

As Steve pulls in, you notice several people lingering at the side of the house: your housemates for the weekend. When Steve parks, retrieving yours and his bags from the back seat, Tina saunters over, greeting only Steve. Casually, as if she and Steve never broke up, Tina throws her arms around Steve. “I’m so glad you made it,” Tina says, playing into her innocent act. While she hugs Steve, she looks over his shoulder, staring you right in the face. You offer a small, innocent smile. It’s only two days you have to be here, you remind yourself. 

After greeting Tina and the others who are spending at the weekend too, Chrissy, Jason, and some of the basketball players with their girlfriends, you make it into the side entrance of the house. 

“Nice place, Cunningham.” Steve says, taking his sunglasses off to look around the house. The inside of the house is grand, large wood furniture stretching towards the ceiling. The entrance leads directly into the kitchen, showcasing large, shiny kitchen appliances that sit on the island that’s settled in the middle of the room. It’s a beautiful home, you hate to admit. 

“Your room is over here,” Chrissy says, Tina close behind her, as they guide you and Steve to a room on the first floor. Down a short hallway, you crowd around the entrance of the bedroom. You peer in, seeing a single bed placed under a window. “You and y/n can stay in here.” Chrissy says to Steve.

You swallow hard, letting your eyes look around the room. There is a dresser in the corner, a small, plush chair adjacent to the bed. Everything starts to connect: you and Steve are expected to share a bed. 

You glance at Steve who’s already looking at you. He offers you a half-hearted smile, realizing the same thing. “This is great, we’ll put out stuff away and meet up with you guys in a second.” 

Chrissy leaves promptly but Tina lingers, analyzing you and Steve as you stand in the bedroom. After a second, she leaves. 

“Don’t worry, I can sleep on the floor, and you can have the bed.” Steve whispers to you, unzipping his bag to unpack his things. “They’ll never know.” 

You stay silent, unzipping your bag too, beginning to unpack your own clothes. For the first time you feel concerned, questioning if you can pull this fake dating scheme off with success. Steve, sensing your hesitation, comes behind you, placing his hands on your shoulders. He squeezes lightly. “We got this.”

Minutes later, you’re back in the Cunningham’s enormous kitchen, Steve retrieving a beer from the fridge and handing it to you. The other house guests are scattered across the kitchen and backyard, mingling together. Steve slings an arm over your shoulder, guiding you to a chair that’s adjacent to the kitchen, just over the kitchen’s boarder into the dining room. Swiftly, Steve pulls you back onto his lap again, the end of his chilled beer resting on your leg. You loop an arm around his shoulders, your legs dangling off the side of Steve’s legs. You both sit together, watching the small group mingle around the kitchen. 

In the days between the party and earlier today when you left Hawkins for the cabin, you had some time to think. You had begun to notice how your body physically reacts to Steve’s touch, the way your mind whirls every time a new set of eyes rest on you and Steve. You have this feeling again now, just as Steve plays his part as a loving boyfriend by placing a kiss on your jaw. You smile, glancing at him briefly. 

At first you just attributed to the mindset that you had engrossed yourself with dedication and devotion. You were pretending to be Steve’s girlfriend, convincing Hawkins High that you and he have been together for months, just secretly. Steve was also committed to making your false relationship believable, always attentive with calling you sweet nicknames, gazing at you lovingly when he introduced you to his other friends, or letting his fingertips drag across your skin. Every time it made your mind buzz, enough to make you wonder why you are feeling such ways.

The next phase of denial you enter is just attributing all your feelings to being so close to Steve. You have been best friends for as long as you can remember, always tied to each other’s hip. You had inside jokes, nicknames for each other, a permanent spot at each other’s family dinner table. You were each other’s dates to dances, you never had to ask, you just knew Steve would show up at your front step in a tux. You knew each other so well. When Steve started having girlfriends started to the mix, you never felt displaced. Steve went through girls constantly, as if there was a never-ending revolving door of them; yet each one respected you and Steve’s friendship and made sure to always make space for you. That is, of course, until Tina. 

You’re brought out of your thoughts when a shrill voice echoes across the kitchen. “Steve, you’re the tallest one here, can you lend me some help?” Tina’s voice says from around the corner.

Steve taps your legs, signaling for you to move. You stand up, allowing Steve to get up from his seat. He hands you his beer, moving across the kitchen to help Tina. “I’ll be right back,” Steve says to you with a smile. Steve leaves you alone, and as you sit back in the sofa chair, you miss the subtle warmth of Steve underneath you. 

After a few minutes, Steve hasn’t come back and you stand up, feeling the need to socialize and not sit alone in the corner. You weave through Chrissy and Jason who stand on one side of the kitchen island. Some basketball players, and their girlfriends, stand on the other side of the island. “Nice of you to join us, y/n.” Jason says, glancing at you as you walk by. 

You smile meekly. “What are you all up to?” 

“Actually,” Jason says, leaning on the countertop. “We were wondering about how you and Steve started dating.” 

“Oh, you know.” you say, simply. “Best friends that finally acknowledged they liked each other; no story really.” 

The group laughs, eyeing you curiously. The chatter continues around you, leaving you to listen to the back and forth. Down the hallway, however, you hear a set of laughs that takes your attention away. In the reflection of the class doors that lead to the driveway, you see Steve and Tina leaning against the banister of the stairs. Steve reaches out, pawing at Tina’s arm, a simple touch of affection. A pang of jealousy hits you and you’re startled by the feeling. The reality of the game you play with Steve washes over you again as you watch him and Tina flirt, knowing there’s nothing you can do about it because that’s the whole point of you and Steve dating in the first place – getting Tina back.

For the first time, you consider how Steve and Tina’s subtle, but not really, flirting is perceived by the other houseguests. As Steve has attempts to make Tina jealous, allowing himself to flirt with her or let her eye’s linger on him, did everyone really think you were stupid enough to not notice? What you hadn’t signed up for when Steve asked you to fake date him is to look like a fool and you hated to think that Steve’s actions were making you seem like a dumb, oblivious, person and girlfriend. And that thought really pissed you off. 

“Let’s play a game.” Tina says, clasping her hands together. The group eight of sit around the living room, you and Steve sitting next to each other on the large, retro couch. His arm is around your shoulder, and you squirm underneath his touch. Across the living room, Chrissy sits on a loveseat, Tina and the rest of the group scattered around the floor. You couldn’t get your mind to stop thinking about Steve in the hallway with Tina. 

Jason laughs, a beer in his hand, as he seats himself next to Chrissy. “A little childish, Tina, don’t you think?” 

Tina shakes her head. “Not at all, we need a little fun. Let’s keep it simple; truth or dare.”

“Sounds fun,” Tina’s boyfriend says supportively. 

Tina offers a smile to her partner, appreciating his support. “Great, I’ll start – someone ask me.” 

“Okay, truth or dare, Tina?” Chrissy asks, leaning over to look across the room to Tina. 

“Truth,” Tina says. You have the urge to roll your eyes, but you suppress it, watching as the game begins to unfold in front of you. Instead, your clasp your hands together, squeezing your palms together.

“What is the worst mistake you’ve made?” Chrissy says after contemplating for a minute. 

Tina looks across the room at Steve, her eyes lingering on him for just a minute. You know she wants to say it’s breaking up with Steve. To some extent, the plan of fake dating Steve is working, Tina showing her jealousy and curiosity about you and Steve’s relationship; so, you should be happy. But you feel an unsettling feeling, one that makes you feel confused about everything happening around you. 

After a second, Tina takes her eyes off of Steve and looks back at Chrissy. “Definitely getting that haircut sophomore year; it was such a popular hairstyle and as soon as I got it, it went out of style.” Everyone is the room laughs, including Steve, and you smile half-heartedly. “Okay, who’s next? How about you, Steve?” 

“All right, I’ll give it a go.” Steve says, his body leaning into you more. From his movements, you smell his cologne radiating off of him, the familiar smell offering some comfort. 

“Truth or dare?” Tina asks, cocking her head to the side.

You don’t know if you want Steve to pick truth or dare: both could be dangerous options.    

“Dare.” 

Tina smiles, her eyes settling on you. “Kiss y/n; I don’t think any of have seen you guy kiss yet.” 

Your body freezes, every muscle becoming rigid. You’re terrified for a lot of reasons: one reason is because you have never kissed anyone before which is a truth not even Steve knows. The second reason is that you’re about to be forced to kiss Steve, your best friend, and you have no idea how you feel about that. 

“Yeah, Harrington, give your girl a kiss. No need to be conservative here, we’re all friends.” Jason says, gesturing towards where you and Steve sit with his hand that grips his beer bottle. 

“Is that really necessary? We just aren’t big participants in PDA.” Steve says, laughing nervously. 

“Now’s your chance.” Tina says, her eyes landing on you. 

Steve angles his body towards you, you wonder if you feel his hands tremble. You angle your body towards him as well, your knees touching. Steve looks at you, his eyes going to your lips. You’re really about to kiss Steve – in front of everyone. 

Steve scoots closer to you, his hand reaching out, his hand cupping your face. His fingertips brush your face, your skin buzzing at the sensation. Your muscles go from rigid to limp, your head becoming lightheaded. Before Steve leans in, he gazes at you briefly, letting his thumb brush your cheekbone. Then, he leans in, and you follow his lead, leaning in to let your lips meet his. 

You thought it’d be a short kiss, just a small peck, but it’s anything but. Steve’s mouth moves rhythmically in yours, the feeling of his plush lips against yours causing a small tornado to brew in your stomach. The smell of Steve’s cologne that was comforting a few seconds ago was now overwhelming to you, numbing the surrounding environment – the people that watch you. Steve’s lips are sweet, the beer tinting the flavor of his mouth. 

It feels like you have been kissing Steve for hours, though it most likely was only a few seconds. You pull away, breaking you and Steve’s point of contact. He leans in further, following your mouth as you pull away, but Steve realizes what he’s doing and backs away.

 Steve clears his throat, leaning back on the couch. “See, we kiss,” Steve says. Similar to you, Steve’s mind draws blank after blank, his mind whirling with a set of emotions that confuse him. He finds himself enjoying sharing a kiss with you, noticing how his mouth followed you as you pulled away. He hopes you didn’t notice that. 

You look at the small group of faces that watched you, small smiles on their mouths. Tina, however, has her arms crossed, her lips puckered with discontent. 

“I felt like we should have given you privacy, that was intense.” Jason says, laughing. “What else do you guys do in private?”

Steve rolls his eyes. “All right, All right, let’s move on.”

“Y/n, your turn.” Tina says, adjusting in her seat. “Truth or dare?” 

“Truth,” you say, not wanting to see what type of dare Tina would have in store for you. Turns out, though, that her truths are far much worse then any dare. 

“Did you and Steve get together right after he and I broke up? I mean you were his best friend and around us all the time. Were you just hoping we’d break up so you can have him all to yourself?” Tina asks. The room goes silent. 

You sigh, knowing this was waiting for you all along. “Of course not, Tina. We got together after you and Steve had broken up and it was clear you were getting back together.” 

Tina hums, crossing her arms across her chest. “For some reason, I just don’t believe that. It’s such a coincidence that two best friends got together so close after a breakup – I mean surely he was still thinking about me when he together with you.” Tina says, glancing at Steve. “Are you sure you’re not a rebound?” 

“Tina-“ Steve says, but you hold up your hand, ready to meet Tina.

“I just don’t get why you care so much, Tina? Aren’t you the one that broke up with Steve to immediately date someone else? Are you sure that’s just a coincidence or were you plotting that while you were still dating Steve?” You say, knowing you questioning Tina, in front of her closest friends, was getting dangerously close to her most vicious point. 

Tina laughs, shaking her head. “Oh, y/n. You sit there with Steve acting so innocent like the perfect little girlfriend, but little do you know everything Steve does for you know, I taught him. He probably still calls out my name during sex.” 

You jaw clenches, the sounds of people snickering fill the silence in the room. Steve is still, completely motionless beside you, listening to you handle your own against Tina. He feels sick, his stomach twisted is regret. Steve thinks about how he never should have gotten you involved in this.  “I think you give yourself too much credit, Tina, Steve has most certainly moved on.” 

“All right you two, that was definitely more than one question, Tina.” Jason says, interrupting you and Tina. You let your back relax against the couch, feeling the heat in the room creep inside of you. 

Steve puts his arm around your shoulders, acknowledging the tough situation Tina had just put you through. He squeezes your shoulder. Watching Tina attempt to embarrass you, in front of everyone, made Steve question what he was doing attempting to get Tina back in his life. He knew Tina’s personality is bland, her only joy in life coming from tearing other people down - for what? Suddenly, loses his motivation to get Tina back – he just wants to take you and he home. 

“Let’s go,” Steve whispers to you, beginning to stand up off the couch. He reaches out, grabbing your hand in his. “We’re going to hit the hay early tonight; we’ll see you in the morning.” Steve says to the rest of the group. Everyone mumbles goodnight, their eyes watching you and Steve move out of the room. They pick back up where they started, Chrissy up next to pick truth or dare. 

“Steve don’t sleep on the floor. Just get in the bed.” You say, listening to Steve whimper as he lays himself on the hardwood floor. You hear him pause. “Really? It’s so uncomfortable down here.” He says, leaning up to look at you on the bed. 

You nod. “Just don’t touch me, we aren’t that close.”

Steve laughs, placing his pillow on the bed next to yours. You move yourself back, letting Steve maneuver himself into the bed. The mattress dips under his weight, his warm body laying close to yours. For a few minutes you lay in silence, watching the darkness stream through the shades of the window. Shadows dance across the ceiling, your eyes watching as you listen to the crickets that chirp in the dark of the night outside. 

“I’m sorry,” Steve says, breaking the dark silence. His arm brushes against yours. “Tina was vicious today and I didn’t stop it.” You shake your head, looking at Steve from the corner of your eye. “Don’t apologize, I knew she some sort of plan against me.” 

“Still,” Steve says, meeting your eye contact. Steve’s glance turns into a gaze, holding your eye contact. In your stomach, you feel a flutter. If someone told you Steve would be the one to check things off your boxes – giving you your first kiss or sharing a bed with a boy; you’re sure you would have told them they were out of their mind. You break your eye contact, looking back at the ceiling. 

Beside you, Steve lets his long fingers slither against the back of your hand, picking yours up to rest against his. Steve outstretches your hand, comparing the size of it to his large hand that dwarfs yours. “You’re so small and delicate.” 

You laugh, looking over at yours and his hands. “You’re just noticing our size difference now?”

Steve interlaces his fingers with yours, enveloping yours hand with his. He squeezes your hand gently. “Fake dating you has allowed me to realize things about you I ignored when we were just best friends.” 

“Don’t get soft on me, Steve.” You say, although the flutter in your stomach grows more intense. 

Only one day left. 

The day at the Cunningham’s cabin starts bright and early; Jason bangs on you and Steve’s bedroom door, jolting you out of Steve arms, which is wrapped around you, holding you against his body. You and Steve glance at each other, mutually agreeing not to speculate how you both ended sleeping in such a position. 

“Steve and y/n, up and at em’ lovebirds! Meet us by the water in five.” Jason yells, the sound of his voice pounding in your head. It’s too early to yell. 

Quickly, you and Steve throw on lake appropriate outfits, turning each other’s back to one another, providing as much privacy as you can, considering the circumstance. 

You’re halfway out the back door of the house when Steve grasps your forearm. “Hand,” Steve holds his hand out to you. “Gotta make it believable, babe,” Steve says, overemphasizing the nickname. You smile, taking his hand, though you have a funny feeling inside of you – something you can’t put your finger on.

“There they are!” Chrissy says, extending her arms over her head. Chrissy’s feet were already in the water, Jason beside her. Tina glances at you, offering a fake smile, though she trains her eyesight is aimed at you and Steve’s hands that are intertwined. 

“Here we are,” Steve says almost unenthusiastically. You can tell his socialization level is beginning to bottom out. 

“Drinks are over there,” Jason says, pointing towards a cooler several feet away. “We’re thinking of playing volleyball and swimming. I’ll get the floats out of the basement later.” 

Steve looks over at you. “Volleyball or swimming?” 

You shake your head. “I think I’ll just sit for now.” 

Steve frowns, but nods, letting go of your hand. “Okay, I’ll sit with you-“ As Steve speaks, Jason calls his name. “Steve, come play a round of volleyball with us.” You look towards Jason, seeing Tina, Tina’s boyfriend, and Jason stand on the volleyball court. “We need a fourth.”

Steve looks over at you. You smile, gesturing towards where Jason. “Go, I’ll be fine.” Steve nods, his eyes lingering on yours, before he jogs away towards the volleyball court. 

You continue towards the beach chairs, noticing Chrissy is already sitting in one. “May I join you?” you ask, sitting down in the chair beside her. 

“Not a fan of volleyball?” Chrissy asks, looking over at you. 

“Not a fan of anything physical,” you say, letting your legs stretch out in front of you. The lake has rough sand, but you let your bare feet dig into it. 

Chrissy laughs. “I feel the same way, I always get lightheaded. My exercise is cheer and that’s about it.” 

You smile, glancing at Chrissy. You never truly interacted with Chrissy, her crowd is much different than yours, the two groups never interacting. You had heard good things about her, always kind and sweet to everyone. You always wondered if she was as fake as Tina, considering they were close friends, but you find the rumors are true – she’s incredibly kind. 

You’re about to respond to Chrissy but cheers from the opposite direction pull your attention away and towards the sound. You watch as Steve and Tina, who are on the same side of the volleyball net, high-five, Tina squealing with excitement. You lean back against the webbed beach chair with a soft huff. 

“That’s got to be tough,” Chrissy says. “Tina is trying too hard to be friendly with Steve post breakup. I told her to leave you two alone, but she won’t listen.”

You toss an uneasy smile at Chrissy, opting to look directly in front of you at the lake. “Oh, it’s okay. I’m not worried.” 

Chrissy cocks her head to the side, not believing a word you say. “Your face says otherwise. I’m sure she’ll get bored, I mean she has to, Steve is so into you.” 

You frown, whipping your head to Chrissy. “W-What?” 

Chrissy turns away from you, positing herself to look straight ahead, her arms dangling off the arms of the chair. She, too, outstretches her legs in front of herself, her legs seemingly going on for miles. “The way he looks at you, it’s so obvious.” 

You swallow, digesting what Chrissy is telling you. Steve? The way he looks at you? Chrissy must be wrong, any look that Steve gives you is purely because you’ve been friends for what feels like decades, and you might as well be the same person – Siamese twins even. 

You’re silent for a long time, the noise of other neighbors coming out from their house to be lake go-ers for the day filling the silence.  Your mind is in a whirl as you’re deep in thought, thinking about Chrissy’s comment, and you jolt when Chrissy places her hand on your forearm. “Come on, let’s go into the water.” 

The lake behind Chrissy’s house is huge, from where you stand you can see the houses that peek out from the trees around the lake. The lake must be miles and miles long, boats saunter across the water, those who occupy them dancing to the radio together. Though the lake is only accessible to those who own a house, the lake is big enough, and deep enough, to need a lifeguard. A very cute lifeguard in fact. 

You and Chrissy stand knee deep in the lukewarm lake water, watching small fish swim between your legs. You chat with Chrissy, finding out that she’s much more easy going then you thought she’d be. The day has passed by quickly, the morning turning into the afternoon with little transition. After a little swimming, you and Chrissy begin to walk down the length of the Cunningham’s property, the edge of her home right where the lifeguard stand is.

A whistle blows, the sound cracking, signaling the whistle should be retired soon, interrupting you and Chrissy’s conversation. “Ladies, looking that good is certainly a swimming hazard. Back on the shore, please.” You and Chrissy look at each other, giggling at the lifeguards comment. 

The lifeguard is beautiful; his torso is bare showcasing his toned upper half and strong muscles. He has dark hair, his short locks framing his face perfectly. Freckles are dashed across his face, a boyish smile on his mouth. He moves, with ease, down from his stand, making his way over to where you and Chrissy stand, only a few inches from the shore. 

“I’m Blake,” Blake, the lifeguard says. “And you two are?”

“I’m Chrissy,” Chrissy says, clasping her hands in front of her. “And this is y/n.” 

Blake looks at you, his eyes lingering. “Y/n, you’re awfully beautiful.” 

You smile, your face flushing at the compliment. “Thank you, Blake.” 

“Chrissy!” Jason yells from far away, their volleyball game concluding a bit ago. “I need your help getting the floats from the basement!” Chrissy glances between you and Blake, then jogs off towards the shore, leaving you and Blake alone. You should have realized how not mentioning to Blake that you had a boyfriend, Steve, might look to Chrissy but in the moment you didn’t care. Why couldn’t you have a little fun on this god forsaken trip? 

“Just here for the weekend?” Blake asks, bringing you back into the conversation. 

You nod, softly crossing your arms in front of your scantily clad chest. “Yeah, with some friends.” 

Blake nods, his eyes grazing down your body. “That’s too bad, the hot ones always have to leave.” 

Later, you’ll realize that Blake is not your type, and how his gives player vibes, but in the moment, you just want to have fun leaving the ideas that Steve looks at you a certain way or the weird flutter you felt last night as you laid with behind you. 

You just want a distraction from it all.

Where you stand with Blake, you have no idea that Steve is watching. Steve is perplexed on what to do as he’s blinded with raging emotions. He’s pissed; the tall, gorgeous lifeguard standing beside you, his eyes taking every inch of your bare skin. For a moment, Steve doesn’t even consider what everyone else who’s staying at Chrissy’s cabin thinks as they glance with curiosity at this stranger interacting with you, Steve’s girlfriend. Steve wants to do nothing more than punch the lights out of this guy, bruising his eyes that visually violate you. Steve watches for a few minutes, you laugh, you reach out touching this lifeguard’s arm. Steve can’t take it any longer when you turn around and the lifeguard looks right at your ass, shamelessly. 

Steve stalks over to you and Blake, his feet moving him quick. “Y/n!” Steve calls, making it over to you and the male in seconds. “There you are babe; I’ve been calling you.” Nonchalantly, Steve places his arm over your shoulder, interrupting you and Blake’s conversation. Steve offers Blake an innocent yet threatening smile as he nudges you along. You squeak as Steve begins to rush you away. You don’t even get to say bye to Blake. 

“What the hell are you doing?” Steve whispers to you when you’re far away from Blake, guiding you away from the water. “Flirting with that asshole in front of everyone, you’re supposed to be my girlfriend, remember?” 

You’re pissed too, Steve ruining your only chance to experience joy on this trip. “Sorry, I’m just trying to have a little fun. You can flirt with Tina all day long, in front of everyone, but I can’t flirt with some random lifeguard?” 

Steve snorts, his grip tightening around your shoulder. “I’m not flirting with Tina; I was just playing volleyball with her. You heard Jason, they needed a fourth player!”

You hum, attempting to shrug your Steve’s arm off your shoulder. “This sucks Steve, this has gone far beyond just getting Tina back. She has it out for me, last night was proof, and I’m just looking like a stupid, oblivious girlfriend as you sneak around with Tina, and I’m just supposed to not notice?” 

Steve hustles you past the group of teens that surround the firepit in the middle of the backyard, bringing the beach chairs from the lake and onto the grass. They all stare, your argument moving from whispers to loud enough that they can catch glimpses of your argument. 

“Keep your voice down,” Steve says. Steve moves you onto the porch, opening the sliding glass and pushing you into the kitchen. “You’re going to blow our cover.”

Outside, the day begins to dim, the sky turning a dark blue color. The little bit of light outside illuminates the room enough for you and Steve to maneuver around the kitchen island. “You already did that Steve! By flirting with Tina so carelessly. You want to flirt with Tina? Fine. But you don’t have to do it in front of everyone and make me look stupid.” You march into yours and Steve’s designated bedroom, passing him on one side of the island in the process. Steve follows you. 

“Y/n,” Steve says with a sigh. “Look, I’m sorry. Okay?” 

You’re covered in lake water, the dry feeling that clings to your body makes you know that you should shower before getting into bed, but there’s no place you’d rather be then under the sheets. You lift the bedsheets up, climb into the bed. “I don’t care, Steve, Whatever, it’s fine.” 

Steve stands in the doorway, watching you turn into a lump under the sheets. Although you’re arguing, he finds himself smiling. “I mean it, I’m sorry.” 

“I mean it, I don’t care. Just go back out to the party and your beloved Tina.” 

Steve is amused but mostly frustrated - for two reasons. For one, wasn’t this the whole point? Making Tina jealous so she’d come back to him? Maybe you had a point about making you look stupid, but he thought you and he were on the same page, understanding the same game plan of Tina becoming his girlfriend again so you two didn’t have to fake dating. Second, Steve hated it when you and he fight. You never did – the last time was when you were 14 and Steve had seen a movie with his friend when he said he’d see it with you first (you were pissed, to say the least) - and he hated that the first fight in a long time was over Tina. 

“Fine,” Steve says, turning on his heel. “Be that way.” And Steve disappears around the corner. You’re sure Steve is going to come back, apologize profusely, but you give up that hope when you hear the sliding door close shut behind him. 

As he sits on the beach chair around the campfire, next to Tina, Steve’s mind begins to drift away, thinking about his reaction to seeing you and the lifeguard. Why had he gotten so mad? I mean, wanting to physically harm a guy that was flirting with you was a bit much, surely. He acknowledges to himself how he didn’t like seeing you flirt with someone, another male drinking your body in, and he wonders what that confession could mean. Does he have a thing for you, and it took being in a fake relationship, at Chrissy Cunningham’s cabin, seeing you flirting with a lifeguard, for Steve to realize that? All Steve could think about, while his friends laugh and roast marshmallows together, is that he wanted to be under the sheets with you, your small body curved against his – and that scares the shit out of him. 

It's going to be a long ride back to Hawkins. 

[icequeenbae]

Boy Next Door (m) Ch.1 | BBH

Pairing: Baekhyun x Reader

Neighbor AU, slow burn, hurt/comfort, fluff, smut

Warnings [whole story]: Baek being the neighbor we’re all dreaming of, harassment (nothing graphic), a bit of body image/ insecurity, MC sucks at relationships, explicit content, unprotected sex

Word Count: ~18.5k (total), 4.5k (pt.1)

Summary: Your neighbor Baekhyun has been a pleasant acquaintance since you moved into your current apartment almost a year ago. Could he also be… a perfect match?

© Please do not copy/ post on other platforms without permission.

Chapter Masterlist: Pt. 1 > Pt. 2 > Pt. 3 > Pt. 4 (fin)

Author’s note: This has taken me so, SO long to write and edit that I cannot believe the time has come to post it lmao I just wanted to write something simple with the classic boy-next-door vibe but as usual, the story ended up being much longer than planned and I am going to post it as a mini-series. Please keep in mind that your feedback is what motivates me to write and post more <3 And biiig thanks to the lovely @beomcoups for taking on the beta duties on this whole story~

Network Tags: @bbh-net  @k-vanity  @ksmutsociety

PART 1

In the lobby or on your floor – those were the two locations where you’d been bumping into Baekhyun most often. Which wasn’t that strange, considering that you were neighbors. But it somehow always caught you off guard and left you flustered.

Just like the first time.

It happened almost a year ago when you were waiting for the elevator on the first floor of your building with your best friend Yuki, who came early to help you with preparations. A guy in a loose white dress shirt and jeans stepped into the elevator with you, politely greeting you before pressing his floor number.

‘Oh, you live on the 13th as well? So, you and our Y/N are neighbors!’ Yuki exclaimed.

‘Nice to meet you,’ you muttered and bowed, shy from the sudden introduction. He reciprocated, chocolate hair falling into his eyes charmingly.

‘You should come to her housewarming party! It’s in a couple hours,’ Yuki chimed in again. ‘You don’t need to bring anything, it’s just a small thing with a couple friends and neighbors. We’re making sure Y/N-ie settles in nicely here. So please come, we have tons of food!’

If anyone could ever say no to your friend… Well, you had never met such a person. You guessed that Baekhyun was simply too stunned by her enthusiasm, so he said he’d swing by for sure. In a way, you were thankful that she’d asked him – you’d have never had the guts to invite someone like that; especially not anyone as good-looking and cool as Baekhyun.

You regretted letting your bestie invite him the following evening when your party was in full swing for several hours. Most of the food was devoured, so now you were all drinking, crunching on snacks, and conversing; or trying to while jumping from one topic to another.

‘I wish we could gather more often. We all like to hang out with you, you know?’

As always, Yuki nagged at you for being too ‘stay-at-home’ of a friend.

‘I like to hang out too. But home is home. You know parties aren’t really my… favorite pastime.’

‘What is your favorite pastime, lying in bed cuddling your blanket?’ Chanyeol joked insensitively.

He should’ve known better since you were the most troubled in your group of friends regarding relationships. It was super tough for you to find a match, even when you made an effort to get out of the house and meet new people, mostly because of your history of failed relationships where your partners gained interest in someone else. It seemed like you were too plain to hold someone’s attention for long. So, you’d been ‘that single friend’ for several lonely years now. And at this time, you were actually in the very beginning of a new, promising relationship. You were still pretty insecure about it; thus, Yeol’s comment really did make you flinch. He was drunk, so that was understandable, but you still sulked at his words, mainly because they were true.

‘Hey, it doesn’t have to be a blanket.’ You frowned, pressing the straw to your lips in frustration.

‘I’m kinda sad that guy you’ve been talking to couldn’t come,’ Yuki interjected. ‘I wanted to find out what he’s like.’

‘Minho had work-related travel, so he’s resting up.’ You shrugged, sipping your drink timidly.

‘I’m sure the guy made this excuse just to avoid meeting your friends. How long have you known him for, like, two days?’ Chanyeol interjected.

‘It’s been a few weeks, actually,’ you corrected, and Hoseok, Yuki’s boyfriend, muttered a reproaching ‘hyung’ in his direction.

‘Gosh, you’re really this stupid while drunk,’ Yuki shook her head disapprovingly at your friend, who simply shrugged.

Baekhyun was pretty silent during the latest exchange, so when you briefly made eye contact, it reminded you that he could also hear all of that chatter. Which made you want to choke on your drink from humiliation. Thankfully, one of your friends still had some tact left that night, so they quickly changed the direction of the conversation. Still… you’d been mortified for weeks after the event, doing your best to avoid bumping into Baekhyun when leaving for work.

***

The next time you met, Baekhyun was also in the lobby of your apartment building. And once again, before a gathering at your place. Just days prior you had lost it and left your resignation letter at your boss's desk. Working such long hours under the constant pressure of absolutely unrealistic deadlines was taking its toll on you for sure. But when you found out they promoted a person, who was obviously less experienced and capable than you in working (but more capable in flirting with your manager), instead of you… It became the last straw.

Baekhyun appeared right on time as you struggled to push the elevator button with a whole case of beer in your hands.

‘Y/N,’ you heard his velvety voice call. ‘Nice to see you.’

‘Oh- Hi, Baekhyun.’ You greeted awkwardly, puffing from the weight you had to balance.

‘Let me help you with that?’ His suggestion sounded like a question, yet he instantly scooped the case from your hands.

‘You don’t need- thank you,’ you said, and he shook his head to indicate that it wasn’t a big deal.

‘So… having a party again?’ He asked as the elevator doors closed.

‘I wouldn’t call it a party,’ you hummed, looking at your feet. ‘I kinda had to quit my horrible job of 4 years, so my friends are making me celebrate it. Not that becoming unemployed calls for a celebration…’

You trailed off, not wanting to be a nuisance to your neighbor. He was just making small talk.

‘I’m sorry to hear that. Are you taking a break now or looking for something else?’

‘I’ll start looking next week. It’s Friday, my friends are coming… So I’ll try to just clear my mind and rest for one full weekend before I start stressing about a new job. Hopefully, my friends wouldn’t talk my ear off about it – that’s what the beer’s for. My little trick,’ you chuckled sheepishly.

‘Aren’t your friends supposed to treat you in this situation?’ Baekhyun huffed, shaking his head to rearrange his hair and better see you.

‘They should… bring more alcohol with them, I think. I couldn’t have them over for nothing, though.’

The doors opened after a robotic voice announced your floor.

‘Well, anyhow. Thanks a lot for your help!’ You tried taking the beer from Baekhyun, but he didn’t let you.

‘Open the door first; you can’t do it while holding this.’

‘Right. Thanks,’ you fussed, pressing your password in.

Baekhyun quickly placed the case on the floor of your hallway.

‘You should come!’ You blurted out, instantly getting flustered. ‘If you want.’

‘I might drop by if I’m free,’ he smiled softly. ‘My family wanted to have a video call later. That may take long.’

‘Of course. Have fun!’ You nodded, beating yourself up in your mind for being so weird suddenly.

‘You have fun,’ he chuckled, stepping towards his apartment. ‘Oh, and Y/N?’

Looking up at him as he called your name, you were met with his warm yet serious eyes.

‘If you need anything… You know where to find me.’

That made you strangely sentimental.

‘T-thank you.’

He sent you a message later on and let you know he couldn’t make it to your party. But in a way, he was there – on your mind.

***

It was about three weeks after you’d broken things off with Minho. If you could even consider it one, the relationship wasn’t long, only a couple months. At first, you thought it could be something, realizing later that it was only wishful thinking. There was no way the two of you could make it work; you were just not compatible with each other. The more you got to know him, the more you were reassured of that. Your life goals were different, your outlook on relationships was different… even your ideas of quality time with a significant other didn’t match. This time, the initial infatuation wore off rather quickly – probably because you didn’t go out of your way to appease him. You knew it was probably for the better. Pretty much all of your relationships ended the same way, with your boyfriends telling you they found someone else. Someone… more exciting.

This was the case for your first relationship halfway in your first year of university.

‘I’m sorry, Y/N. I just don’t feel the spark, you know? You’re so… domestic,’ your then-boyfriend said in his breakup speech. ‘I’m young, I want to experience stuff, be bold, and have fun. And there are people that I can do this with, who’ll also enjoy it.’

It repeated less than two years later when you’d barely worked up the courage to try and start something with another person. When it happened the third time, you decided you weren’t really made for relationships. It was ironic since you always wanted to be in one. You were very affectionate and were keen on taking care of people. Yes, you weren’t that into big gatherings and parties, and maybe it was a little too difficult to drag you anywhere when you were stressing about the upcoming tests and stuff… But you weren’t completely closed off! Even with those limitations, you were very sociable and had many friends. Was it so bad that you didn’t say yes to every suggestion? Did your inclination to stay at home and have cozy dates instead of outdoorsy stuff make you a non-relationship material? It seemed like every time someone else appeared, your boyfriends easily decided to move on.

And even though you weren’t in love with Minho, this breakup still made you sour. What made this particular day suck was that you’d found out that he was already in a new relationship; happily broadcasting it everywhere.

You weren’t jealous of him for being with someone else. You envied him for being able to find another partner in mere days after you parted ways, while for you, it felt like you’d never find or be able to retain anyone. Ever. Never ever.

‘Earth to Y/N!’ You jumped from someone’s voice ringing in your ears.

Looking up, you saw that the elevator doors were held open by your dashing neighbor, who was staring directly at you.

‘Sorry, I spaced out,’ you quickly entered. ‘Hi.’

‘Hey,’ Baekhyun smiled, pressing the button for your floor. ‘Is everything okay?’

‘Um, yeah. No. I mean-’ You sighed. ‘I’m just a bit out of sorts.’

‘Trouble at work?’

‘No, my new job is great. A huge improvement on the previous one. It’s just… everything else is not nearly as great?’

Yeah, because you pushed yourself to get back on the market to finally not be alone, and here you were. Back to square one.The sniffling you produced startled even your own self.

‘Oh god, I’m sorry.’

‘It’s okay. There’s nothing to be sorry about,’ he replied, his voice gentle. ‘Do you want to talk?’

‘Oh no, I wouldn’t dream about boring you with my stupid problems.’

‘I’m sure they aren’t stupid,’ he said. ‘And I have ice cream. Almost any flavor you could think of.’

You looked at him silently, and he smiled again reassuringly.

‘It’s not mandatory for you to tell me anything. But I can treat my favorite neighbor with some ice cream, can I not?’

‘Am I your favorite just because you don’t know anyone else?’ You snickered gawkily.

‘No. Not just-’

He was interrupted by the usual announcement of your floor.

‘So, what do you think? You can change first and then come, no hurry. I’m free tonight.’

You puckered your lips, genuinely intrigued by his offer. Ice cream sounded perfect right about now. Although agreeing just because of the promised treats was pretty childish, you couldn’t help but be seduced by his suggestion. So, you gave him a shy nod.

‘Okay. Throw on something comfy and come over.’

You entered your respective apartments, and only after the door behind you locked… you realized that your heart was racing.

‘Damn you, Y/N, why did you agree to do this??’ You whined, catching a glimpse of your scrunched-up face in the mirror.

Fishing your phone out of your handbag quickly, you messaged Yuki.

You | I fucked up, Yu!!

You | Idk what to do now…. ㅠㅠ

Ki-yaah | What happened?? Did you like a pic on Minho’s new gf’s SNS??

Ki-yaah | I’m so dumb for telling you about this… I’m so sorry Y/N ㅠㅠ

You | No, not that

You | Who cares about Minho and his girlfriend??

You | I mean, I was a bit salty about this… But I met Baekhyun again!

Ki-yaah | Baekhyun? Your cute as fuck neighbor Baekhyun??

You | No

You | Yes?

You | My neighbor Baekhyun. I blurted out that I wasn’t in the greatest mood, and he invited me to his place for ice cream!

Ki-yaah | WHAT

Ki-yaah | YAH

Ki-yaah | THAT SLEEK BASTARD

Ki-yaah | I hope you’re texting me from his couch

Ki-yaah | Or kitchen counter

Ki-yaah | Or wherever you kids decide to do it

A bunch of obscene emojis appeared on your screen, making you blush on the spot.

You | Do it?? We’re not doing anything. I’m home!

Ki-yaah | So, you’ve already done it?? HOW WAS IT??

Ki-yaah | Waaah, you’re quick these days, Y/N-ah! Finally, you’re learning your lessons

Ki-yaah | I hope you wrapped it up though

Ki-yaah | I wouldn’t blame you if you skipped it, though, I can imagine how starved you are on good sex.. Still, safety first!

Ki-yaah | Wait, so was he?? Any good??

Ki-yaah | You’re silent!

She typed so fast that you didn’t even have a second to write back, mostly from shock – your friend wasn’t always this shameless, actually.

Then she started calling.

‘Yah, why aren’t you spilling the beans?? Too worn out to type, bestie?’ She smirked on the phone, making you cringe.

‘Because there’s nothing to spill! I haven’t even gone over yet.’

There was a second of silence.

‘… What?!’

‘I have to change; I just came from work, you know? My makeup needs fixing too…’

Your phone instantly started vibrating as a video call request came in, which you begrudgingly accepted.

‘Damn, you can’t go like this. It’s not seductive at all!’ She exclaimed.

‘I’m not going over to seduce anyone! And he told me to wear something comfy…’

‘What?? Hm, actually…’ She tapped her index finger on her chin, deep in thought. ‘He does look like the type to be into that.’

‘I-into what?’

‘Cute girls! I told you already, he was probably crushing on you since the time he came to your housewarming party!’

‘Pfft, that’s ridiculous. And don’t bring up him allegedly glaring at Yeol for his stupid comments again, I beg of you!’

‘Alright. But he’s always so nice to you! Oh-Em-Gee, you’d look so cute together,’ she squealed.

‘I don’t have time for this. I can’t have him waiting for much longer, and I need to shower…’

‘Yes! And remove your makeup while you’re at it.’

‘Huh?? If I redo my makeup… isn’t it gonna look strange? Like I’m trying too hard?’

‘You won’t have to redo it. You’ll have only very basic nude makeup on. Looking all natural and cute.’

‘I swear, if you say ‘cute’ one more time-’

‘Can’t a girl dream?? I can already imagine how cute your children would be…’ Your friend kept musing.

‘I’m hanging up.’

‘Yah, take this seriously. Clean up nicely, and let your hair down. Also, shave your-’

‘Yuki!!’

‘You never know!! One second, he’s licking ice cream off his spoon; the other, he’s l-’

Quickly tapping on your phone screen, you canceled this embarrassing call. The vivid images didn’t leave your mind as fast, though, so you shivered, shaking your head to get rid of the obscenities.

‘She’s a bad influence, for sure,’ you muttered, still ashamed of yourself for imagining your neighbor in such a context.

The time was ticking, so you decided that Yuki was somewhat right and needed to clean up. You also needed to hurry the heck up; you didn’t want to make Baekhyun wait too long. Thirty minutes later, you were in front of his door.

‘Come in, come in,’ he ushered you inside, having you change your footwear for the pink house slippers.

Why did he have those again?

‘Cute, right? I ordered them for my niece and got the size completely wrong, but they fit you perfectly. I guess I wasn’t wrong after all.’

He looked at your feet for another second before blinking and clearing his throat.

‘Let’s not waste any more time, everything’s ready. Come on!’

Everything? Did he prepare a whole reception?

You took a good look at the back of his head as he walked you to his kitchen, noticing that his hair was slightly wet. Did he also shower? You swallowed at the thought. He probably didn’t invest as much time into the preparations as you did, though. You blamed your best friend for the inappropriate thought she planted in your head!

‘Here, take a look.’

He opened his freezer, and you gasped.

There was an entire collection of ice cream. Cones, popsicles, buckets… All different flavors and manufacturers.

‘I see you’re impressed,’ he smirked. ‘I have a niece and a nephew, you know? Kids aren’t easy to please these days.’

‘Can’t deny that I am. How many do you have here?’

‘No idea… I just keep buying them. Which one’s to your liking? You can try different ones. I’m in the mood for mint choco and lemon.’

‘Those are my favorites!’ You jumped up like a kid.

‘Really? Both?’

‘Yeah! I haven’t seen a lemon ice cream anywhere, only sorbets! Where did you find it?’ You closed the freezer as he got the two buckets out.

Baekhyun suddenly seemed pleased with himself.

‘You think I give away trade secrets just like that…’ He replied mysteriously.

‘I wanna buy some too,’ you pouted, circling around him while he took the lids off. ‘If you don’t tell me… I’ll eat all of yours!’

‘Ha, go ahead. There’s more where that came from,’ he teased right back, hovering slightly over you.

Lowering your gaze to avoid staring directly at him, you noticed something.

‘What’s this?’

Baekhyun turned back to the counter.

‘Ah, this old thing? You know how ice cream scoops are sold in paper cups or cones? This thing,’ he picked it up. ‘Is to make those. Watch.’

He dipped the instrument in water and shook it slightly, then scooped the mint ice cream, creating a smooth green ball with tiny pieces of chocolate adding to its hue.

‘Cool,’ you muttered, genuinely finding that fascinating.

‘Right? It’s awesome!’

‘Let me guess: the kids don’t appreciate it enough?’ You asked.

‘Those little- Here, you try with lemon.’ He pressed on a small lever and dropped the green globe into a bowl.

You shook your head.

‘I’ll mess it up; you do it.’

‘Come on, Y/N. You can’t mess it up; it’s just ice cream.’

‘Just ice cream? You don’t deserve to know the secret selling spots for this!’

He snorted, moving to the side to give you more space to try and repeat his previous actions.

You dipped it in water like he did and shook it before moving the lemon ice cream bucket closer. Spending about twenty seconds taking aim, you huffed.

‘I can’t do it! Yours is so round and pretty; I am not that professional.’

‘I’ll help,’ he chuckled at your meltdown, holding your wrist and softly pressing down on your hand to guide it. ‘Scoop it this way to make it full and round.’

You did as you were told, yet your mind was far away from the scooping technique. The entire focus of your being was now set on the unprecedented proximity you were in. He held your hand, his chest so close to your shoulder that you could feel the heat radiating off him. When you dropped a yellow ball of lemon ice cream into the bowl, you could only pray that he didn’t notice the goosebumps littering your arms.

‘See? Yours is even better-shaped than mine,’ he hummed close to your ear.

‘Y-yeah.’

As if sensing your perturbation, Baekhyun suddenly stepped back.

‘Trying just two flavors is a waste of an evening. Let’s get more.’

Ten minutes later, you were sitting in his living room at the small table in front of his couch. The bowl with at least a dozen different ice creams sat atop another one, which was filled with ice.

‘No one likes melted goo, right?’ Baekhyun chuckled while constructing this mobile freezer.

You tried all of them one by one, gushing about each flavor.

‘The grape one isn’t tickling my fancy,’ he said, nudging the oddly-colored glob away.

‘Really?’ You reached for it with your spoon.

‘Don’t even try it. That’s bad,’ he scrunched his nose. ‘I can taste every chemical they used to make this grape flavor.’

You laughed, trying it despite his protests.

‘It tastes like… very cheap jelly,’ you said.

‘Exactly! Such a strange texture. Hmm, I shall look for a better option then. My nephew Siwoo loves grapes.’

You smiled at his concern for his youngest family member’s preferences.

‘Your nephews must be the happiest kids in town with an uncle like that,’ you murmured, stealing a bite from the rest of the lemon ball that he subtly nudged your way earlier.

‘They’re pretty lucky, aren’t they?’ He agreed easily, earning a snicker from you.

As you savored the last of the lemon flavor on your tongue, he leaned in, eyes focused on your lips.

‘You eat just like Siwoo,’ he instinctively wiped your lower lip with his thumb.

Looking up at him, you caught the moment he realized what he was doing and retreated.

‘Sorry,’ he muttered awkwardly. ‘It’s a habit.’

Pressing your finger to your lower lip, which was now burning, you shook your head neutrally.

‘It’s okay. You must spend a lot of time with them,’ you scooped more in your spoon to somehow soothe the burn on your lips.

‘Not as much as I’d like. Most of the time, our schedules don’t match up, especially with them living in a different city. I try to have them over or visit them as much as possible.’

Baekhyun’s voice became warmer as he reminisced.

‘I get scolded by hyung a lot for spoiling them. But what can I do? At least they’ll have those pleasant memories and presents to remember me by while we’re apart.’

‘Are they close in age?’

‘About four years apart. Seoyul is pretty grown already; I can’t believe her little brother is going to school soon as well.’ He smiled, remembering something. ‘When she started her first grade, he was so upset. He cried every time she left the house.’

‘Aw, that’s so cute,’ you cooed. ‘So they’re getting along well?’

‘Yeah, apart from the occasional bickering. Siwoo is… a boy.’

‘A little daredevil?’

‘He’s driving his noona insane sometimes. To be honest, I was exactly the same at his age. We’re both lucky to have siblings several years older.’

‘Ah, so your hyung is much older than you?’

‘Seven years. He was almost like a father,’ Baekhyun chuckled. ‘But had he been even a couple of years younger… Pretty sure he would’ve given me a piece of his mind back then.’

‘I wouldn’t ever imagine that you were a maknae of your family.’

‘Why? I had so much aegyo as a child! Yes, my mom had to exercise lots of patience, but I was cute as hell.’

‘I’m sure that’s how it was,’ you hummed.

‘I’m still in the top-3 cutest of our family list. Might even be cuter than Seoyul at times; she’s way too serious these days.’

‘Wow, going over your nephews’ heads after the title… How mature of you.’

‘Hey, don’t blame me for being extremely cute.’

‘Show me some aegyo then,’ you challenged him with a smile.

‘Huh, you wish. You’re not ready for my aegyo, Y/N-ie.’ He responded sassily.

‘Is that so?’ You smirked, holding his gaze up until the chime of your phone provided an interruption.

Your bestie found a great time to pry into your business, which was evident from the message previews on the screen.

Ki-yaah | You’re not texting me back…

Ki-yaah | Which either means that you chickened out…

Ki-yaah | …or his stamina is REALLY freaking impressive

Ki-yaah | Which one is it??? I hope it’s the latter!

You inhaled sharply and started coughing, barely managing to swipe those messages off the screen before Baekhyun could see them.

‘Are you okay?’ He patted you on the back to help you overcome your coughing fit.

‘Yeah, I’m fine. I didn’t realize it was so late… It was so rude of me to keep you up. Let me help you clean this up.’

‘Leave it,’ he shook his head, catching you by the wrist. ‘I’ll put this away later.’

‘I’ll… get going then,’ you stood so abruptly that your legs couldn’t keep up with you, completely numb from being in the same position for so long.

‘Y/N!’ Baekhyun rose to catch you by the arms. ‘Take a second, sit on the couch. Your legs must’ve fallen asleep.’

You swatted at your legs with your palms, urging the blood flow to restore quicker.

‘Sorry…’

‘Why are you sorry? I’m not in a hurry to get rid of you.’ He stated simply.

‘It’s just so late… and… you must have stuff to do.’

‘Nope. I actually had fun. I rarely get to sit around at home munching on ice cream and enjoying another grownup’s company.’

You bit your lip shyly at his words, and he suddenly tsked.

‘Although I feel like we were mostly talking about me. That’s a shame. I want to hear about you as well,’ Baekhyun mused, walking you to the door. ‘Well, let’s save it for next time.’

Next time, he said.

Next time??

You turned your back on him to conceal the shade of your cheeks and pretended to fidget with the doorknob.

‘Let me,’ he reached over you, pressing his warm chest to your back for a second to unlock the door.

But before you could step outside, his fingers wrapped around your forearm in a lax hold.

‘And Y/N… If you ever find yourself craving some lemon ice cream… I’m ready to provide it.’

With that, he pushed the door open and allowed you to leave his apartment.

Masterlist

A/N: Thank you for reading! Another BBH mini-series started 💫 I hope you enjoyed part 1~ Pls let me know what you think via comments, asks and reblogs, my darlings 💜 Also, I am very curious if you are picturing anyone in particular as Hoseok hehe 🙃

[astraysimp]

You, Me and Binna Makes 3 (9mitm)

❁ཻུ۪۪♡Hi my loves! Dad!Binnie is making another appearance! This will be another chapter for 9 Months In The Making, my collab with my bestie! We have been plotting and planning this for quite some time ( dad!Binnie on the mind FR) Anywayyysssss, enjoy! Mwah Mwah Mwah!Grab your tissues and a snack….this is a long one ❁ཻུ۪۪♡

❁ཻུ۪۪♡ Summary: You and Changbin have been together for around 4 years and have always wanted and talked about having babies. Heck, he even baby proofed the house before you were pregnant. He is READY to be a dad, and is so excited when you two welcome Binna to your family. Being your life partner was his favorite role….until he became an appa 

❁ཻུ۪۪♡Warnings: established relationship, fluff fluff FLUFF, dad!Binnie, crying(happy and excited), pet names, fem! Reader, binnie has been WAITING to be a dad and he is READY, baby dwaekki(Binna) loves her dwaekki plushie 

✎ (❁ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈) ༉‧                            ♡*.✧✎ (❁ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈) ༉‧                            ♡*.✧

You and Changbin knew you wanted kids, you’ve talked about it for so long. Having been together for 4 years, you had moved a couple times together, into your own apartment away from his bandmates, into your temporary home while your forever home was being renovated and now you lived in your forever home, the one you two designed and decorated together, where you’d raise your babies. You two had started talking about babies a year into your relationship, both of you ready and excited to welcome a baby into your lives. Changbin had actually baby proofed the house before you were even pregnant; no sharp corners, no electrical cords exposed, etc etc.

So, when you told him you were expecting, he was over the moon, to say the least. His reaction was ingrained in your mind, the ebay he fell to his knees, crying(sobbing), hugging you so tightly and pressing tons of kisses to your belly. “We’re having a baby?! A baby? You’re not joking right, my love. We’re having a baby dwaekki,” he cried, lifting your shirt to see your stomach, even though you weren’t showing yet. 

“No, binnie! We’re having a baby,” you cried, placing your hands over his on your stomach.

What he was even more excited for was that you were having a girl.Changbin had a gut feeling it would be a baby girl, although he’d be happy with a boy, of course. But, his own little princess? Oh. He was excited. When talking about names,he suggested Binna. Not because it almost was like Binnie, but because it meant shine, his own little star. You could remember it so clearly, how he teared up suggesting the name, saying it so softly, almost as if he couldn’t believe the words he was speaking. The thought of having his own baby girl to protect made him cry of happiness. “A girl? A baby girl?” He asked at the ultrasound after she had said it.”Congratulations. You’re having a baby girl.” She smiled and Changbin teared up. 

Seo Binna. Her name would be Seo Binna.

  Changbin loved seeing you pregnant, your belly growing to house and protect Binna. He thought you were beautiful and absolutely breathtaking before. But, now? When you were carrying his child?.....You only seemed to grow more beautiful by the second, in his eyes. He didn’t care if your ankles were swollen or that your old clothes didn’t fit or that you were gaining weight. “Bun, you’re growing our baby. That’s the most beautiful thing in the world. Your body changing to house and protect her is amazing. You only get more beautiful,” he’d tell you while he rubbed your sore feet or ankles. He also loved talking to your bump, feeling her kick at his voice. “Hi Binna girl. It’s appa. I can’t wait to meet you, my princess.” He would coo, hands rubbing your bump, where her tiny feet just kicked. “Now now, princess, don’t kick mommy too hard, it hurts her,”he’d giggle and press kisses to your growing bump. Not only did he love rubbing or talking to your bump, he always sang to your bump. “Baby, got me lookin so crazy.Ppajyeobeorineun daydream. Got me feeling you,Neodo malhaejullae.” Yeah…. He sang New Jeans to Binna– and NMIXX, and stray kids (of course) and etc etc. 

Don’t forget the choreo tho…. He performs it– it doesn’t matter that she hasn’t been born yet. 

However, nothing could compare to when Binna was born and the memories you created after. Your labor had been hard, having to have a c-section–because Binna was chunky, a whole 9lbs and 2oz. He CRIED when he heard her shrill cries and doctors placed her in his arms. “Oh, hi Binna bear. Welcome to the world. I’m your appa, and there’s……your eomma,” He whispered, turning her to you, as you laid on the bed. She looked like Vhangbin, the same big brown boba eyes and chubby cheeks, only with your nose, and a head of curly black hair. “Hi, my girl. I’m Eomma. We love you,” You sniffled, holding her for the first time, after being moved to the recovery room. You and Changbin were in love, your girl was here , finally here. She cried, like babies do, and only calmed down when you or Changbin held her. “Oh, my sweet Binna. My cuddly girl,” You cooed, as she looked up at you, Changbin sitting by your side and pressing a teary kiss to her head. “My baby dwaekki.”

Now, Binna was 2 months old, and still looked like Changbin.  You were in the kitchen making lunch.  While Changbin and Binna were in the living room, Binna lay on the floor , with Changbin laying next to her. He did this a lot, just looking at her, his eyes filled with love. “Binnie? Honey bear, lunch is done! “ You called, but he didn’t seem to hear you. “Hi Binna bear, my cute girl. Look what appa has,” he giggled, Binna’s eyes following him. From behind his back, he produced a plush dwaekki. “This is dwaekki, baby bear. We love dwaekki,” He smiled, as Binna just sucked her pacifier. “Bin! Lunch, my love,” you tried calling out again. Looking up from Binna, he placed the plush dwaekki in her arms. “Oh….sorry, darling. Was just introducing Binna to someone,” he giggled.  Smiling, you shook your head. “Well, sweet thing, it’s lunch time for you and Binna.” You laughed, turning back to heat a bottle for Binna. “Can….can I feed her, bunny?” He smiled, looking back at Binna, who was peacefully laying on the floor, dwaekki in her arms.``Of course , Bin. You don’t have to ask,” You smiled, testing the milk’s temperature on your wrist. “Okay, lemme grab our baby bun.” He smiled, walking away to grab her, cradling her in his arms. “Oooooh, there we go, all snug as a bug in daddy’s arms.” He cooed, walking into the kitchen.

Hearing Changbin’s footsteps approach you turned around, Binna’s bottle in hand. “Hi baby doll. Is my baby bun ready for lun-” you started, before seeing the dwaekki in her arms. Giggling, you stepped over to her, kissing her nose. “Did appa get you a dwaekki, hm? Do you love dwaekki?” You smiled, running a knuckle over her cheek. “ Our baby dwaekki with a little dwaekki, bunny,” Changbin giggled, gently laying a burping cloth over his shoulder and taking the bottle from your hand. Carefully, he ushered the nipple of the bottle into her mouth, as she quickly started to drink. “Aw, is my little bun hungry, hm,” he cooed, as she continued drinking, small hand uncurling slowly. “Bin, don’t forget to eat, honey.” You said, as you pushed a plate of food in front of him. “I know, bunny. Just have to finish feeding baby bun, first.” He smiled, looking up at you, as you ate. A few more minutes passed before Binna had finished drinking. Carefully setting the bottle down, he perched Binna on his shoulder, gently patting her back. “Burpies for Binna bear.” He giggled as she let a small burp out, before he gently brought her back against his chest.

There were always naps after eating.  So, Changbin carefully placed a pacifier in her mouth and plush dwaekki in her arms. Her big eyes slowly blinked, signaling she was ready for a nap. “Ooooh oh oh, is Binna bear ready for a nap?” He cooed, as you gently moved for your chair to sit next to him. “Let’s go have a nap in the living room, hm?” You asked, caressing his cheek, knowing he’d be tired after eating,too. Nodding his head, he carefully got up. “Mmmmm. Sounds good, bunny. “ He smiled, tiredly blinking his eyes and walking to the living room. 

He was definitely nap ready.

Laying on the couch, he cradled Binna to his chest with one arm, using the other to pull you closer to his side. “Thank you,bunny.” He smiled, shyly pecking your lips. “For what, Bin?” You wondered.You hadn’t done anything extraordinary. Shaking his head, he kissed Binna’s forehead. “For her, for loving me, choosing me to be with and have a family with,” He whispered, staring at you with love in his eyes. Reaching your hand up, you caressed his cheek. “Oh, Bin. You don’t have to thank me for anything. There is no one in this world that I would rather be with, love, or choose to have a family with.  The love I have for you is insurmountable.”You whispered, pressing a kiss to his jaw, seeing how Binna had fallen asleep. “But, thank you for giving me her. Our precious bun.” You whispered, letting a yawn out and cuddling into him. Kissing the side of your head, he nodded. “ Our baby dwaekki.” He mumbled, cheek pressed to your head as you two fell asleep.

Oh how you loved these moments …you, Binnie and baby dweakki 

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[waywardxwords]

Chapter 8 - Save Me

Summary: After a random encounter introduces you to Dean Winchester, you can't shake the magnetic pull you feel towards him. For years, you've felt like everything in your life is under control--a promising career, financial stability and no real responsibilities. Dean's a hunter; it's his life and job. But somehow when you meet, your worlds are flipped upside down and you have to decide if it's a chance worth taking.

Chapter Warnings: Slight language; there's a ton of dialogue in this one but I feel like it's necessary to prep for the chapters ahead

Pairing: Dean Winchester x female!reader

Word Count: ~3k

[1][2][3][4][5][6][7]

If you were being honest with yourself, you didn’t know how you felt about going to Kansas for the unforeseeable future. While it wasn’t like you went into an office everyday and you could really work from anywhere within the United States, you had still built your life in Virginia. You had friends—especially Jen—and it felt weird leaving her here, unable to defend herself. But Dean had assured you she would be taken care of, and you knew that you were unable to defend yourself against these monsters Dean and Sam knew how to fight. 

“You about ready?” Dean asked as he tapped softly on your opened bedroom door. 

A heavy sigh fell from your lips as you looked at your packed-to-the-brim duffel bag and backpack. Dean said it was important to pack as light as possible, but without knowing when you’d be back, it was hard to be selective in what you brought. 

“I think so,” you mumbled, your lip caught between your teeth yet again. You released it as Dean stepped into the room. 

“Hey, I know this is a lot to take in,” Dean started slowly. Both of the boys kept treating you like you were made of glass, which was a little bit annoying but also made sense. It felt like you were all waiting for the other shoe to drop. 

“I’m okay,” you said out loud for him, but also for yourself. “I’m not really a big fan of the unknown…I’m a planner.” You mumbled as you looked around at your things.

“Not big on taking chances, huh?” Dean chuckled softly as his eyes watched you move. Again, it was like he was waiting for it all to set in and for you to crumble.

“Nope,” you sighed as you finally looked back at him. “Rule follower, remember?” You managed a half-smile as you remembered the first time you met in Atlanta.

“Oh, I remember,” Dean smirked back. He took a few steps towards you and you both sat on the edge of your bed. “Just keep in mind–this doesn’t have to be forever.” Your head had dipped a bit, so he moved his to find your gaze. 

“I get that,” you nodded. You didn’t want to offend him; this was his life. He was used to packing an ‘oh shit’ bag and getting out of town. He was used to all of the things that went bump in the night. You, on the other hand, were still trying to wrap your mind around it all. “I just wish I could circle a date on the calendar and know when I could come home.”

Dean nodded as he processed your words. “Tell ya what,” he started. “How about we take it one day at a time, for now,” he paused but you waited for the ‘and then’ part. “Once we get back to Kansas, we can sit down and come up with a plan. Figure out what it looks like so we can get you back home.” 

You didn’t want to be presumptuous, but there was a tone in his voice that almost sounded like he wasn’t looking forward to that. But since everything had happened, you really hadn’t been given a moment to figure out what this was between you and Dean.

“That sounds fair,” you answered honestly. Dean smiled and seemed hesitant, but leaned over and kissed the side of your head anyway.

“Good,” he seemed okay with your answer. He sighed and looked around at the rest of your room. “Anything I can do to help?”

You pushed your hair behind your ears and followed his gaze as you, too, looked around. “I don’t think so,” you said softly. “I’ve packed just about everything that will fit into my bags. I’m just worried I’m forgetting something.” 

“We do have stores in Kansas, ya know,” Dean winked as he stood and reached for your duffel. “Jesus, woman.” He muttered as he slung it over his shoulder. “You got a dead body in here, or what?”

You managed a laugh as you stood to follow him and slung your backpack up on your shoulders. “No, Dean, I think I’ll leave the dead bodies to you.” You patted him on the shoulder and walked just beyond him, but you heard him laugh as you rounded the corner into the hallway.

“Everything locked up?” Sam asked as you closed up the front door and headed to meet the boys in the driveway.

“Yep,” you sighed and readjusted your backpack a bit. “I mean, it probably doesn’t matter when it comes to demons, right? They can get through locked doors, I’m guessing.”

They didn’t answer you directly but nodded slightly. “I’m guessing you want to bring your car to Kansas?” Dean asked as he eyed your garage door.

“Oh, absolutely,” you answered quickly. “I just figured I would follow behind you guys, if that’s okay.” You said as you used the keypad on the side of the garage to type in your PIN number that opened the door. 

Sam and Dean stared at you, confused for a minute. “Sam’s flying back to Kansas,” Dean said. “This is a rental so I figured I’d drop it off on the way and hitch a ride with you, if that’s alright.” His words made you turn around slowly and your brows pulled together in confusion. 

“Wait,” you started carefully. “You flew here?” 

Dean caught why you were so surprised and flashed his white teeth in a small smile. He pulled at the back of his neck as Sam watched you both look at each other. “Sweetheart, I don’t own European cars. Don’t drive ‘em either, if I can help it.” He shrugged as he thumbed to the Volkswagen Jetta in your driveway. 

“Okay,” there was more you wanted to say but you decided not to rub in how much Dean hated flying in front of Sam. You weren’t familiar with their dynamic at all, but Dean had told you that he didn’t like being afraid, and that he always tried to be strong for his brother. You didn’t want to embarrass him or say something you shouldn’t in front of Sam. “Do I wanna know why you have to get back to Kansas quickly?” You turned your gaze to the younger Winchester. 

Sam chuckled softly and shook his head. “Work…related,” he mumbled. “So probably not.”

You nodded once and turned back to your car. “Okay, then,” you breathed. “I’ll follow you to the airport and wait for you to drop off the rental.” 

You loaded up your backpack and Dean tossed your duffel bag in the car.  As you both turned away, you faced each other, maybe a foot apart. 

“I’ll see you at the airport,” he said softly. 

“Be safe,” you said back as you studied his features and tried to read what he was thinking. He nodded, and after one more look, he went to walk back to the rental car. 

Before he could step away, you took a chance. You reached for his jacket and tugged so he turned back to you. With his jacket still between your fingers, you pressed your lips to his in a rather quick, but hard kiss. For a moment, he paused but then his hands cupped your face as he kissed you back. 

As the pop echoed around you, you didn’t notice how Sam had turned to give you some privacy and scratched awkwardly at the back of his head. “What was that for?” Dean asked as his eyes looked between yours. 

“To say I’m sorry, again, for not believing you,” you started softly but continued before he could say anything. “And for saving my life.” A small smile tugged up the corner of his lip just enough for his dimple to appear. 

“I don’t want you to apologize to me again, got it?” His thumb caressed your cheek gently. 

“No more apologizing from either of us,” you stared into his eyes until he nodded. 

“Deal,” he agreed, though somewhat hesitantly. 

“Okay,” you pulled back and waved at Sam. “Thanks to you too, Sam.” You called after him. He turned back around and nodded. “And I guess I’ll be seeing you in Kansas.”

“I’ll see you there,” he nodded as he waved. “Drive safe.”

You nodded and watched Dean walk back to the car. Just before he climbed into the driver’s seat, he called out after you. “And I’ll be seeing you soon.”

Even after everything, you couldn’t help the heat that radiated in your cheeks or the way a smile pulled across your lips. 

Dean had dropped Sam off at the drop off area at the airport. Once he had gathered his backpack, you followed Dean to the rental car return. It only took a few minutes before you popped the trunk to your Toyota Camry and waited for Dean to toss in his duffel bag. 

He pulled open the passenger door and leaned down. “You want me to drive?” He asked carefully. Dean seemed like the kind of guy who preferred driving, but you smiled and shook your head ‘no’ anyway. 

“How about I take the first shift? And then we can switch,” you suggested. He seemed content enough with that response and climbed in. “Sorry it’s not the Impala.” You offered with a small smile. 

“Ah, it’s alright,” he sighed as he pulled on his seatbelt. “I’ll get you in a Chevy or Ford, eventually.” He smiled back. You chuckled softly and shook your head as you pulled away from the airport. 

“What’s the address?” You asked as you toyed with the navigation on the dash. 

Dean grumbled, something about fancy cars and shitty navigation systems but you just rolled your eyes. He plugged in an address for Lebanon, Kansas. 

“Jesus,” you mumbled, as the screen totaled your drive time at 20 hours and 32 minutes. 

“Buckle up, sweetheart. Hope you’re ready for a long drive,” Dean chuckled. It was already late into the evening, pushing midnight by now. 

“It’s weird, I feel like I’ve been up for days at this point,” you muttered as you adjusted the air and your seatbelt. 

“You sure you don’t want me to drive?” He eyed you carefully. That was the thing about Dean’s gaze: you could feel it even when you didn’t see it. 

“I’m alright. We can switch when we stop,” you shifted the car into drive and eased on the gas. Dean unbuckled his seat belt to pull off his jacket before he buckled it again. “I’m supposed to call Jen tomorrow. I’m not even sure what to say to her, she recognized you from the photos we found online.” The sound of your voice was anything but strong as your stomach flip-flopped. 

“I’m guessin’ the truth isn’t an option?” Dean asked. 

You shook your head no. “And say what? She got possessed by a demon named Meg, her eyes turned black and she flung me against the wall a few times? Yeah, I’m pretty sure she’d have me committed,” you fell into a comfortable speed as you got on the interstate and hit cruise control. 

Dean half chuckled and shook his head as he glanced out the passenger window and then back to the windshield, his features illuminated by the headlights of drivers coming down the other side of the highway. “That probably wouldn’t go over too well. It’s a lot for anybody to take in.”

You muddled over a thought before you said it out loud. “How did you take it when you first found out?” You asked him as you glanced between him and the road ahead of you. 

His brows kind of pulled together and you took that as his thinking face. “I don’t really know how to explain that,” he started softly. “It’s all I’ve ever known, really.”

Shock had to have graced your features but you tried to calm your expression. While you recognized this was all new to you, it wasn’t to Dean. And you certainly didn’t want to offend him. 

“When did you find out about the things that go bump in the night?” You asked him carefully. 

“When I was four,” he didn’t look at you when he answered. Instead, his gaze went out the passenger window again as he watched the trees pass by in darkness. 

“Four?! Dean, you were a baby,” you breathed. And then you remembered. “You were four when your mom died…”

There was a moment of silence that you took as his acknowledgment that you had the right idea. But then, he continued. 

“My Dad kind of went into overdrive at that point. Trying to find what killed her,” he explained. You nodded as you tried to absorb it. When he didn’t offer up anything additional, you broke the silence. 

“You were just a kid, Dean…” you felt a pang of sadness for the man next to you. It made you angry, even. “No kid should ever have to go through that.”

“No kid should have to lose their parent to some supernatural asshole, either,” he said back firmly. You somehow knew he wasn’t upset with you by the comment, just trying to make you understand. ��Seeing my Dad go through that, and having to make sure Sammy was okay…” he shook his head as he trailed off. 

The dots started to connect for you. Dad was busy fighting the monsters, Dean had to take care of his brother, you kept your thoughts to yourself but made a mental note. He had to be strong—couldn’t be afraid. 

“Anyway,” he cleared his throat and resituated himself in his seat. “All that to say, I don’t know what it’s like, really, to be thrown into this world that I live in. But I know it can’t be easy.”

“I don’t want you to worry about me, Dean,” you answered quickly, and you meant it. It seemed as though Dean was worried about protecting everyone in his life and being strong through it. “I don’t want to burden you with that.”

“Sweetheart, I’m gonna worry about you whether you’re sitting right here next to me, or you’re thousands of miles away in another state,” he looked at you when he spoke. “And it’s not a burden.”

“Can I ask you something?” Your bravery to ask the hard questions surprised you. Something about being in the car with him for almost a full day made your usual resolve soften. 

“Shoot,” he stole another glance at you. 

“Do you like it? Fighting…monsters?” You asked, for lack of a better word. 

Dean mulled it over before he answered right away. “I like helping people,” he said simply. “I like being able to save people so they won’t have to go through the same thing we did.”

“But who saves Dean Winchester?” Your eyes found him in the dark car once again.

“I don’t need saving, sweetheart,” he smirked again, a hint of confidence to his tone.

“Everybody needs saving sometimes, Dean,” you answered softly.

The only noise around you came from the hum of the engine.

“I guess Sammy does,” Dean looked out the window. You could tell he didn’t want the conversation to continue at that point, so you switched gears slightly.

“Does it ever scare you?” The idea of fighting monsters terrified you, but you were curious if Dean was ever afraid. 

He seemed to process the question like it was something he had never been asked, which shocked you considering the line of work. “I mean, I guess sometimes. Usually when one of us is in trouble.” You nodded, but he continued. “When one of us is knockin’ on death’s door, I guess that scares me.”

Each new fact you found out about this life Dean lived in brought on a new wave of shock. “Death?” You asked him as you looked between him and the road. 

Dean chuckled, but you could tell it was from him being a bit uncomfortable. “Let’s save that one for another day,” he shifted in his seat. 

Maybe that was a good idea. You redirected the conversation slightly. “Where does your fear of flying fall on the scale of being scared?” You smirked. 

“Oh, that one’s still at the top of the list,” he winked with a wide smile that reflected the light from the streetlights as you drove, welcoming a lighter conversation.

“But you got on a plane anyway. To get to me,” you stole another glance in his direction. 

“Well, yeah,” he said simply. “Sam said I should let it go, that something must have made you change your mind. But when I couldn’t reach you…” he shook his head. “I just had to be sure you were alright.” His words caused a flutter to form in your stomach, and you smiled, but that was shortly followed by a yawn that tugged at your jawline. “Getting tired?” Dean asked.

You shrugged a bit but couldn’t help the nod that followed. “It’s been a really long day,” you sighed. “I guess I was more tired than I thought.”

“That’s what happens when shock starts wearing off,” he reached to place his hand just above your knee over your denim jeans. It was obvious it was meant as something comforting as his thumb traced small circles on the fabric there. “Why don’t we pull off? I can switch with you.”

“Dean, you need sleep, too,” you argued.

“We can stop eventually if I get tired, too. But I’m alright, sweetheart,” his voice was gruff and raspy–you could sense the exhaustion there, but you obliged.

There was a rest stop up ahead and you took the exit slowly. Once the car was in park, you opened the driver’s door to switch with Dean. As you both got settled in your new seats, Dean pressed a quick kiss to your temple before he adjusted the mirrors. 

“You just get some rest,” he said gently. 

You nodded against the headrest of the seat and closed your eyes. “Night, Dean.” It wouldn’t take long for sleep to find you.

A/N: Happy Thursday, friends! I know this chapter probably felt a bit "filler" with the dialogue, but it was important for the development of future chapters. I promise things will get more interesting in the next chapter!

Let me know what you think! I appreciate all the likes, comments & reblogs more than you know!

Chapter 9 will be posted on (or maybe before, TBD) Thursday, 4/25!

Chapter 9 Preview:

One blink, then two. The hum of the engine and vibration in the seat of the car reminded you where you were. There were so many emotions that coursed through you as you remembered: demons, monsters, Dean. 

Your nose twitched as you smelled the air and your eyes were drawn over to Dean. The sun was out now–high in the sky.

“Dean?” You cleared your throat as you shifted in the passenger seat to sit up fully. He did a double take and you saw the smile spread across his lips.

“Morning, sunshine,” the gruffness to his words and the look on his face made your stomach flip–or was that hunger? You settled on a mixture of both. 

“What time is it? Where are we?” You asked as blinked a few more times to try to take in your surroundings. 

“It’s about 8:30,” Dean answered as he glanced at the clock. “And we’re about an hour outside of Louisville, Kentucky.” 

“Jesus, I slept for eight hours, Dean! You should’ve woken me up,” you rubbed the sleep from your eyes and felt around your hair inconspicuously. You didn’t want to give away that you were slightly concerned with what you looked like after passing out in the passenger seat. God, what if you drooled?! You swiped your fingers across your mouth quickly. 

“Nah, you needed the sleep,” he answered simply. “You had a rough few days there.”

“Thanks,” you breathed. Suddenly your stomach groaned and you hoped he couldn’t hear it. “I’m starving. How about we stop and switch off again?”

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[frost-queen]

Outmatched //Part 10 (Reader!Holmes x Anthony Bridgerton)

Forever tag: @missmelodramatic, @merlin-dahlia, @alex--awesome--22, @elllie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve, 

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Summary: Schemes come to plan in order to force Anthony and you together. Can a heart to heart change matters? Certainly now your aunt has come into the picture, wanting to have her demands over you. [ Final chapter ] Read part 1  & part 2 & part 3 & part 4 & part 5 & part 6 & part 7 & part 8 & part 9

Sherlock was writing vigorously. The feather in his hand moving swiftly as he scribbled it around. Dipping as quick as he could in the ink seemingly not wanting to forget a word. It had been annoying you for the past couple of days. It made you sigh loud to get his attention. Nothing occurred as Sherlock was lost in his own mind. Having no ears for his surroundings. You sighed again sitting sloppy in the armchair.

Irritated by the scratching of the feather over paper, you got up. – “Whoever are you corresponding with so eagerly?” – You called out making your way over to him. You came to the front of the desk, lowering yourself on your knees, chin up on the level of the desk. Finally Sherlock noticed you with a brief glance. – “A lady perhaps?” – you responded shockingly.

“Someone you met at the ball? Are you in love Sherlock?” – you questioned with a gleam in your eyes. – “Don’t be absurd.” – Sherlock answered dipping the feather in the ink. – “A sister can dream.” – you told him slightly bummed. Sherlock looked up from his paper. – “So can a brother.” – he simply said. It made you roll your eyes at him.

“Should you not be preparing yourself?” – Sherlock spoke barely looking up as he finished the letter with his name. – “Prepare for what?” – you responded confused. Sherlock placed the feather down, giving you his full attention. – “The park.” – he informed you.

You got up half confused. Slightly narrowing your eyes at him. – “Where are you going with this?” – you wanted to know. Sherlock started folding letter. – “Nowhere.” – he let on, burning some candlewax to seal the note. You watched him closely. Trying to decipher a hint on his face.

Something that would give himself away. Nothing. Your brother was good in hiding his emotions. Frustrated you groaned and took a turn towards the hallway. You went up the stairs to your bedroom to prepare. Moments later you were meeting up with your brother Sherlock outside of the house. 

You took his arm letting him escort you to the park. The weather was quite nice. A soft breeze bristling through the trees. The sun high as it left a warmth on your skin. – “Have you heard anything from Lord Hill?” – you asked when Sherlock nodded at a passing gentleman. – “No.” – he responded placing his hand on yours over his arm. He came to a brief pause. – “Why? Is it something you anticipate?” – he questioned with a raised eyebrow. – “No.” – you answered tugging at his arm to walk again. – “I was simply curious.” – you mumbled turning your head away from him.

To be fair you were a bit curious off his reaction. You did leave him standing alone at the ball. Rejecting him for the entire ton to see. You hoped he didn’t resent you for it. Or perhaps you hoped he might forgive you. Perhaps he was your only chance of getting out of your aunt’s clutches. The thought alone frightened you. Knowing that your aunt would start meddling herself into your life. Marrying you off to anyone suitable enough in her eyes. Take you away from your family for proper etiquettes. Wanting you to be as stiff and stuffy as all the other ladies throwing themselves at any man possible simply because they can’t get any better.

That was not what you wanted. Far from. You wanted to marry for love if it allow itself to you. At this point you didn’t think you were worthy of love anymore. Sherlock must have noticed the self-pity in your eyes as he gave you a nudge with his elbow. Making you look up to his warming smile. It made you smile faintly back, letting your head rest against his shoulder. Sherlock took a deep breath wishing love upon you so hard. If anyone deserved it, it was you.

You lifted your head back up upon arriving at the park. – “Now what are we here for?” – you questioned. Sherlock just smiled. – “A nice walk.” – he responded not pleasing you with his answer. Now it truly felt like he was hiding something from you. – “Sherlock Holmes now I know you are hiding things from me!” – you outed with a stern expression. Sherlock chuckled at your attempt of a motherly scowl. – “I wouldn’t dream of it sister.”

You puffed loud turning your head away. Sherlock led you down the pathway, greeting some people sitting on the benches with a nod. Up ahead you saw a carriage stand in the middle of the road. Sherlock breathed in as his chest rose. He picked up his pace, dragging you along. You tagged along confused as he walked to the side of the carriage. – “Are…are we getting in?” – you asked confused. Sherlock opened the carriage door pushing you inside. At the same time the door on the other side opened as well.

“You are!” – Sherlock spoke as you felt another body bump against yours. Turning your head your eyes widened at the sight of Lord Bridgerton. His eyes equally shocked. You and Anthony each grabbed for the door on your side. Sherlock shut the door firmly almost in your face. – “Sherlock!” – you called out frustrated. – “Mother!” – Anthony shouted at the same time. You turned your head seeing Miss Bridgerton at his side, keeping the door shut just like your brother did.

“Start the carriage!” – Violet called out with a smile. – “Stop the carriage!” – you screamed out wanting to get off. – “Whatever you do, do not stop this carriage till you reach your destination!” – Sherlock made clear to the driver, flipping him a few coins. The driver tipped his hat to Sherlock, signalling the horses to ride off. Anthony and you fell back against the seats as you rode off. With a lot of effort you pulled yourself forwards as the carriage was speeding. Not just a stroll around the park, but almost galloping.

You grabbed for the handle pushing it open as the door swung open. Your body nearly falling over when you stared down at the quick passing gravely road. A pair of hands on your waist. – “Are you insane!?” – Anthony shouted pulling you back inside the carriage. You automatically closed the door once more as your hand was still on the handle. Panting loud you needed a second. – “Did you truly plan on jumping out of a riding carriage just to get away from me?” – Anthony questioned rudely. – “The offer was tempting.” – you responded making him puff loud.

Anthony and you both turned away from each other looking outside of the carriage. It toggled and bumped around as you could barely sit still. – “I cannot believe Sherlock would trick me this much.” – you mumbled under your breath. – “Or mama.” – Anthony breathed out. His head turned slightly to you as you intended the same. Catching each other’s gaze. It locked in tight, unable to look away. In this moment your breathing became heavier. The yearning for him rising up in tide-waves. Each wave more intense than the one before.

Blinking softly it occurred to you what you were doing. How madly in love your eyes must have looked. Anthony reacted the same way pulling away at the same time as you. Both looking away. Taking a deep breath you let yourself slouch back against the seat. – “What is it?” – Anthony asked with care in his voice. No hint of mockery in his tone. You fidgeted with your fingers on your lap. – “The season will come closer to an end than we expect.” – you told him. – “It won’t be long anymore till I have to say goodbye to it all.”

Anthony was slightly confused with shock. He got up coming to sit in front of you. – “What are you referring to?” – he asked. – “Are… are you…” – he spoke barely able to say it out loud. Something inside of him hoping it wouldn’t be the case. – “No.” – you answered with a shake of your head. Anthony exhaled relieved barely seeable to you. – “I am not engaged my lord or will ever be…” – you went on with a saddened expression. Anthony’s expression full of pity as you reminded him of himself in this moment.

You let your eyes fall onto him. – “Perhaps I have taken all the chances at love that I deserve?” – you told him letting your gaze fall briefly onto his lips. Taking a deep breath, you tore your gaze away from them. – “It doesn’t matter truly for I won’t be able to escape my aunt’s restrictions.” – you continued as Anthony gaped at you. – “Soon you won’t have any trouble of me anymore, my lord.” – you finished.

“By the end of the season I’ll leave to join my aunt where she will groom me to find a match to her liking. It is what has been agreed between my father and her long ago.” – you explained. Anthony took a deep breath with concern. The carriage came to a stop. The glance in his eyes making you scrunch your eyebrows.

The footman opened the door startling you. The moment interrupted as you got out. There you saw your brother waiting for you. You glared at him, storming over to him. Anthony got out numbly. Almost missing his step and stumbling over his own feet. – “Anthony?” – Violet said seeing the sadness in his eyes. – “Sister?” – Sherlock spoke. – “Don’t!” – you made clear wiping your cheek aggressively. He turned to look confused at Violet. It sure must’ve worked right? They had planned it so thoroughly. Violet smiled faintly back at him, moving Anthony closer to her.

With her arm over his shoulder, Violet and Anthony parted ways from Sherlock and you. Sherlock turned round jogging up to you as you had walked off.  He didn’t dare to ask how it went upon seeing your distressed reaction. Perhaps it was harder than he expected. To be fair he was very known with the stubbornness of the Holmes’s. The two of you arrived at the estate again. The doorman opening the door to you. – “Do not trick me again!” – was the only thing you said with a loud tone. Sherlock swallowed feeling a bit shameful.

You wanted to storm off to your room when Mycroft appeared from out of the Parlor, clearing his throat nervously. Sherlock stretched his hand out, tapping you gently against the elbow to draw your attention. Mycroft delicately closed the door behind him. – “We… we have a situation.” – he said before you heard the familiar voice of your aunt. Your eyes widened looking frightened at Sherlock. – “Have they arrived?” – you heard her shrill voice come from the Parlor.

The door opened as it bumped against Mycroft’s back making him stumble forwards. Your aunt smiled as wrinkles showed around her eyes and mouth. With open arms she made her way over to you. Sherlock stepping aside to leave room for your aunt to give you an uncomfortable hug. – “Look at you!” – she said unsure to you if it was an insult or not. She tilted your chin up, turning it to the side to have a good look of you. – “I should’ve come sooner.” – she mumbled.

“But!” – she clasped her hands together in delight. – “Tell me Y/n have you found a match yet? Has there been a proposal? Should I expect wedding bells?” – she asked vigorously. – “There has not been.” – you told her honestly. – “Why Y/n the end of the season is nearing. Have you been absent from any balls?” – She turned rudely to your brothers. – “Have there been no gentleman’s offerings? Visits? Interests?” – she wanted to know.

“There…” – Mycroft started. – “There is a gentleman interested… is it not Sherlock?” – Mycroft narrowed his eyes at Sherlock hoping his little scheme of today would be fruitful. Sherlock cleared his throat. – “In the process.” – he answered nervously. He could see Mycroft sigh disappointed and nervous. – “In the process? Sherlock we cannot wait for the process! Y/n must be married off this season to give this family some stability.” – she responded with diplomacy. – “We understand aunt but…” – Mycroft began as he got cut off by her. – “I don’t think you understand well enough!” – she responded bitsy.

“Y/n is running out of time! You shouldn’t have let it come this far. I will not have my niece turn into a hag.” – she finished off. – “Aunt!” – Sherlock called out with a hateful look in his eyes. – “Do not disrespect her!” – he made clear. She simply huffed. She spun back around to you holding her fingers sternly up to you. – “By the end of the season you will come with me and marry the man I offer you!” – she made clear. – “No!” – Mycroft said coming to stand in between. – “Stand aside boy!” – she answered with a hard stare. – “You had your task and failed miserably.” –

Sherlock came joining his brother’s side, blocking you out of her sight. – “You cannot force her to marry out of diplomacy.” – Sherlock outed. – “Oh but I can.” – she answered. You took a deep breath stepping from behind your brothers. They both shook their head knowing you were about to give in. You moved in front of them, curtsying at your aunt. Your aunt smiled proudly. She took you by the wrist. – “Let us have some tea.” – you got pulled back into the Parlor. The second the door shut grabbed your brother Mycroft for Sherlock’s shirt. – “You told me it would work!” – he called out, shaking him around.

“It should’ve!” – Sherlock answered loudly, pushing his hands off. – “I cannot hold her off any longer Sherlock! Our sister is going to be taken away from us in a matter I do not agree upon.” – Mycroft said. Oh how much his character had grown over the months. From a posh man wanting to have you out of his hands to a caring man fighting for his family. – “I will fix it!” – Sherlock replied. – “How? At this rate I don’t see anything happening in the upcoming five years.” – he sighed out letting himself fall exhaustedly against the wall. – “I will figure it out.” – Sherlock said.

The ball was not to your liking. It felt like a goodbye to everything. It felt like the last thing keeping you close to your roots here in London. No intrigued you to join. Standing at the side you watched how everyone socialised. Taking a deep breath you felt out of place. Having no desire or interest in mingling among the people. Perhaps you had already given up. Given up on the last few chances of finding a match. Of finding someone equally to you. Someone you could see yourself love.

Glancing to your right you saw your brothers near.  They too had a saddened expression. The ball to no interest to them. It pained you to see them knowing of the trouble they went through. Knowing you had a hand to play in this. Perhaps you have been too stubborn. Too much against it and not willingly. Perhaps… perhaps…Looking back at the dancers you saw Colin Bridgerton amongst them. Colin… Bridgerton.

Your mind went instantly to Anthony. Feeling your chest warm up at the simple thought of him. Not so long ago you saw a future with him. Despite the bickering and competitive you still admired him underneath. Secretly loved how he would provoke you. Send you off into frustration and to your boiling point. Oh how much you loved to get so worked up over him.

Yet it wasn’t meant to be. Your stubbornness had won in flying colours. In need of fresh air you got in motion. Your brother Sherlock wanted to go after you, but Mycroft held him back. Shaking his head in speech of letting you have your space. You made your way through the crowd towards the gardens. Brushing past people to reach the other side. Walking out, you were greeted by a soft breeze. The night sky bright. You made your way over to some bush roses.

Looking up to the sky, you were in deep thought. Anthony had found a way outside. Having almost entirely searched the estate in search. Looking thoroughly and with a destined purpose. Every inch around he wanted to have seen. He neared to the rose bushes that were overgrown like a small forest around the estate.

He turned around, leaning back with furrowed brows. There between the rose bushes he saw his purpose. With determination and without a second thought he made his way over. Finally he had a clear view. A clear view of you. You glanced to the side, having spotted a sudden appearance in the corner of your vision.

Anthony neared looking breathlessly at you. – “Do you still plan on to leave with your aunt?” – he questioned with a mournful expression. – “It is what is intended… for me.” – you responded. – “I am apparently made to save my family from ruin.” – you told him. – “You love your family dearly.” – he spoke coming more over to you. You were looking down fumbling a bit with your dress. – “As much as you love yours.” – you told him without a glance. With a deep breath you finally dared yourself to look up.

Struck instantly by his overwhelming gaze. The brightness in his eyes that could light a fire. – “I was fearful of losing you.” – he confessed with a hard swallow. Admitting his feelings so openly to you felt vulnerable. – “That is why I became… after your accident… I couldn’t…” – he slightly shook his head vowing his words to you. You took a deep breath when Anthony neared more. – “I love you.” – he outed.

“I have loved you from the moment you insulted me.” – taking one more step closer to you. – “I have loved you at every dance, on every walk. Every time we have been together and every time we have been apart. You do not have to accept it or even embrace it but you must know it, in your heart.” – Anthony expressed deeply. He took your hand making you look down at the gesture.

“You must feel it, because I do.” – he pressed his hand onto his chest, staring deeply at you. – “I love you.” – he repeated with all his heart. You scrunched your eyebrow softly at him. – “I don’t not know what to say.” – you told him. – “You don’t have to say anything.” – he answered letting his thumb brush against your hand he was still holding. – “I do not think there is anything else to say… other than I love you too.” – you answered heartily. Anthony exhaled stunned. – “You…” – he breathed out. You lowered your head smiling foolishly at yourself. He looked down taking your other hand in his too.

“I know I am imperfect but I will humble myself before you, because I cannot imagine my life without you and that is why I wish to marry you.” – he spoke with a smile. You returned his smile with one of your own. – “You do know there will not be a day that you shall not vex me.” – you told him teasingly. Anthony let go of your hand allowing his hand to go around your waist to your lower back. – “Is that a promise Y/n Holmes?” – he responded smug. You moved your head closer to his, drawn to him. – “It is a promise.” – you breathed out wanting his lips on yours.

Anthony inhaled deep near your lips, anticipating the moment your lips would touch. – “You are not going anywhere Y/n.” – he whispered to you teasing your lips with the presence of his. You vigorously shook your head moving your hands around his neck. – “I shall not.” – you replied before you forced your lips onto his. An explosion of feelings bursting inside of you. Lips kissing each other with the upmost passion and longing.

Your body being pressed against his, wanting you as deeply as he could. No more you needed to feel saddened. No more you needed to leave. No more you were unloved having finally found your match.

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

Read more of my fic’s on my Masterlists!

[hockeyboysimagines]

F*ck me like I’m famous

Chapter 4

Warnings: Sex, implied sex, talks of sex, alcohol, language.

Hello friends! Here is chapter 4. Sorry for the delay. As I said in the chapter I just posted for Sway I’ve had a ton going on. Hope this is worth the wait!

Enjoy🤍

“Hey Josie.” Vince called from his living room “Are you ready? We have to leave like…10 minutes ago.”

“Yeah I’m coming!” She called.

“You did that last night already!”

“Vince!” She yelled from the bathroom.

He giggled and stuffed his feet into shoes, grabbing his keys from the table next to the door. He was having the time of his life.

She had made good on the phone sex and dirty texting multiple times over last night, until the early hours, which was part of why they were running late today. He also might have caused a distraction in the shower, but that was a minor detail.

He had some autograph signing thing that would kickstart the celebrations for the week, and he was planning to meet up with friends for drinks later on. He was so excited to show her off to everyone, if they ever got there.

He heard her shuffling and then coming down the steps and turned the corner.

He paused and smiled “Damn.” He said giving her an appreciative once over “You look hot.”

“Really?!” She asked brightly, glancing down at her dress “It’s not too dressy or boring?”

It was pale green, falling mid thigh, with a floral pattern on it, paired with black wedges. Her long hair was loose and wavy, and he almost considered taking her right back upstairs. But then he remembered this week was not only about him, but the community as well.

“Not at all. Oof. You’re in for it later.”

She blushed and waved him off, taking his extended hand and they made their way to the car. The sun was shining down on them, a beautiful perfect day to start a beautiful perfect week.

“Where are we going exactly?” She asked from the passenger seat, turning to put her purse in the back. He smiled a little at how comfortable and natural she looked in his passenger seat before he answered.

“I have an autograph signing.” He said, turning the key in the ignition and backing out of his driveway.

“Ooooooh. An autograph signing? Fancy.” She said side eyeing him “How many body parts do you think you’ll sign?”

He rolled his eyes and nudged his chin at her “I can think of one I’d like to sign later.”

“No I don’t think so. The pen is way too big.”

He burst out laughing and shook his head “Okay you win. So how was your first official day in Canada?”

“It was good. I spent most of it with this hot guy.”

“And how was your first official night in Canada?”

“Average.”

He gasped and reached over grabbing her thigh and squeezing it. She screamed and slapped his arm “I’m kidding! I’m kidding sheesh.”

“Okay so let’s try that again.”

“My first official night in Canada was amazing.”

“Better. Just means I’m gonna have to one up myself tonight.”

She chuckled and watched the Canadian countryside zoom past outside. She was having so much fun and it hadn’t even been 24 hours yet. Being here, although in a country she’d never been to with people she didn’t know, felt so normal, like she’d been here before. She wasn’t nervous, or awkward or anything like that. She felt at peace.

It was so nice.

“So when does the cup actually get here?”

“Friday. That’s when the fun begins.” He waggled his eyebrows “And there’s a ton happening that day. Are you excited?”

“Me? Are you excited? It’s your big day.”

Josie didn’t know Vince when he won the cup. She hadn’t seen the game, watched the moment, or even knew anything about how he and the team had gotten to that point. But what she did know was that if anyone deserved this week, it was him.

“Of course im excited, but i want you to be having fun too.”

“I’m just happy to be here and watch you do your thing.” She said, smiling widely and reaching forward to squeeze his hand.

Josie spent most of the signing hanging out behind him with his mom. She’d been friendly the day before, but she could tell her guard had been up and with good reason. Vince was a highly successful professional athlete, who had a lot at stake in life. She didn’t blame his mom for being wary at first.

But now she had truly warmed up and they were talking and laughing like old friends.

“What are you telling her back there, because whatever it is you can be sure it’s a lie.” He called over his shoulder.

“Most of it sounds pretty on brand.” Josie said smiling at him “So I’m inclined to believe her.”

He made a face and turned back around, but the thought of her being close with his mom brought a small smile to his face that stayed there the rest of the afternoon.

As the line wound down, and the last few pictures had been taken Vince turned to her and waved her forward. When she reached him he gestured to a lady he’d been talking with.

“Josie, this is my mom’s friend, Sheri.”

Josie reached forward to shake her extended hand “Hello. Nice to meet you.”

“And this is your-?” Sheri asked, looked at Vince expectantly as she let go of Josie’s hand.

“This is my girlfriend.” He said simply with a smile, hand on the small of her back as he gave her a gentle push forward so she could shake the woman hand.

Girlfriend.

GIRLFRIEND.

The word made Josie want to jump for joy, scream, ugly cry and kiss his socks right off but then she remembered they were in public so she just smiled, feeling a redness come to her cheeks. They chatted with for a minute when Vince’s mom called her name and Sheri walked away.

Josie turned slowly to look at him “Girlfriend?” She asked quietly.

“Is that okay? I didn’t really know what else to call this.” He gave a small laugh.

“I mean-yeah. It’s okay.”

“I really wanna kiss you, but we’ve already been on the cover of one newspaper.”

She giggled and smiled at him “You can make it up to me later.” She waggled her eyebrows and he gave her waist a small squeeze.

**********

“So you’re here with Vince?”

Josie turned to find a dark haired girl standing next to her and frowned a little, leaning away from her.

The day had gone great. Better than great. She’d had so much fun watching him do his thing and interact with members of his community. She’d also really enjoyed being introduced as his girlfriend.

They’d met up with a few friends of his that she hadn’t met yet for drinks at what Vince called “The best bar in Lindsey” and it was still great.

“Uh, yeah?” She looked across the bar at Vince, but he was absorbed in a conversation and didn’t seem to notice. She looked back at the girl who was staring at her, one hand braced on the bar top.

“You must be his new fling of the week.” She said off handedly, glancing at her and then over her shoulder where he was standing.

Josie felt a twinge of annoyance. She wasn’t a confrontational person, and the last thing she wanted to do was cause a scene in front of his friends in a country she was visiting, but she wanted nothing more than to back hand her. The smug smile on her face had sparked an irrational rage that Josie wasn’t sure she’d even had in her before today.

“What are you talking about?” The question came out more rude than she’d anticipated but it didn’t seem to phase whatever her name was.

“This week it’s you, last week it was someone else, and next week it’ll be- hi Vince.”

Josie looked behind her to find Vince was there, frowning at the girl she was about to beat up.

“I was just talking to your new girlfriend of the week here and I-“

“Yeah well stop talking to her.” He turned Josie abruptly, and steered her across the room and out the front door of the bar.

She waited until they were some feet away until she said very quietly “Who was that?”

“Just a girl I know is all.”

She stopped walking, which caused him to stop and she crossed her arms, head turned to the side “Wanna try that again? But with an actual answer this time.”

He sighed “I hung out with her one time at a party last summer. Nothing happened, she wanted more and I just didn’t see her that way and she’s been dragging my name through the mud since then. She does this every time she sees me out with anyone.”

“I see. She said there was another me last week? Is that true?”

Vince’s mouth fell open and he looked back at the bar in outrage before he turned back to her “She said that? Josie I swear, I haven’t been with anyone else since I met you. I can’t believe-“

“If you have been it’s okay. I wasn’t your girlfriend so I can’t really get mad.”

It was true. She hadn’t been his girlfriend last week so he was able to do whatever he wanted. But it didn’t mean it would hurt any less if he had.

“I swear to you. I am not talking or hooking up with anyone else. And fuck her for saying that to you.” He gripped her hand “You believe me right?”

She stared at him for a few minutes. She did, she didn’t think he’d fly her out here if he was hooking up with girls at home, but her guard with him was up a little for the first time. It had definitely brought down her mood, and made her feel a little bit weird about the whole thing.

“Josie?”

“I-I believe you. But why would she say that?”

“You don’t believe me I can see it all over your face. She’s jealous obviously.”

“Jealous of who? Me?”

He rolled his eyes “Of COURSE she’s jealous of you. Your beautiful and smart, and your here with me and she isn’t.”

She shrugged and looked at his hand, which was still holding hers. He gave it a squeeze.

“I promise you. There’s no one else.”

Josie pursed her lips and looked at him “Okay. I believe you.”

He glanced over her head and then around the street. It was empty and then he smiled.

“Come on.”

“Where are we going?” She asked as he tugged her along by the hand.

“You’ll see.”

Before she even knew what was going on they were tangled up in the driver seat, attached at the lips.

“Oh my god this is so risky.” Josie breathed out as Vince stuffed his hands underneath her shirt, hands sending goosebumps across her skin.

The car was cold, but they had fogged the windows up in less than two minutes. Their make out in the bar had now spilled into the front seat of the car.

“Shhh it’s fine just kiss me.” He said quietly, pulling her down to his level and pushing his tongue in her mouth. He had a hand on either side of her hips, fingers brushing her bare legs until he had her skirt pushed completely up.

He reached down, fumbling around on the side of the seat looking for the lever to move the seat back, and finally found it, yanking on it a little too hard because it sent both of them flying backwards with a squeal, followed by laughter.

“Jesus Christ.” He mumbled against her neck pulling on it again and lurching them forward. Josie was crying with laughter until he gave a large push and they flew forward, Vince’s elbow hitting the steering wheel, horn blaring.

They both jumped expecting it to stop but it didn’t.

“What the fuck?!” He looked around her, smacking the horn several times, the loud sound cutting through the night. Josie felt her face burn for the amount of embarrassment she was about to feel when someone came over to investigate why the horn in the car was sticking, and found them both in the drivers seat, half dressed.

He finally punched it and it stopped, and he glanced up at her before resting his forehead against her chest.

“This just isn’t meant to be.” He picked up his phone and checked the time “But I can have us home in 10 minutes.”

*********

The rest of the week in Lindsay passed by slow enough to enjoy it, but too fast for it to be over. Every morning she woke up she got a little more sad. She was having so much fun and by Thursday evening she only had 3 days left and it had begun to weigh on her. She never wanted this trip to end, and as it inched closer to Sunday she was reminded that she would be going home alone.

“What’s wrong?” Vince asked as she plugged in her phone and laid next to him.

She glanced up “What? Oh nothing.”

“Liar.”

She rolled her eyes and sighed “Nothings wrong. Just bummed that I have to go back to St.Louis soon is all.”

“Yeah.” He nodded and sighed “Me too. But let’s just enjoy our last three days together, and then we’ll go from there.”

She frowned “What’s that mean?”

He pursed his lips and turned on his side to face her “Well. I was going to suggest maybe we take a trip, a vacation if you wanna call it that, before camp starts in September. If you can get off of work and everything.”

“A trip? Where?”

“To a place where all you have to wear is a bikini.”

“Vince!”

“What?” He said innocently, letting one hand trail up her bare leg “Can’t a guy have dirty thoughts about his girl in a bathing suit.”

A slow smile spread across her face until it was so wide her face might crack “What did you call me?”

“My girl.”

She wanted to kick her feet and squeal “I like that. Being your girl.” She ran her fingers through his hair, nails scratching his scalp. He leaned up to move his lips across her jaw until he reached her mouth, hand traveling up her thigh to the band of her underwear on her inner leg.

He was slotted between her legs, pelvis grinding up against hers as he kissed her slowly. He floated a hand up her shirt, resting it on her waist.

Before she knew it her shirt was gone and he was unhooking her bra big hands roaming everywhere. Every nerve ending in her body was a live wire, as his lips left hers and moved down her jaw towards her neck. She tugged at his shirt, prompting him to reach behind his head and pull it off in one quick movement.

She marveled at him as he hovered above her. Everything about Vince was thick, broad and muscled. Her hands roamed from his lower back up to his chest, scratching her fingernails across his skin. His mouth crushed hers, hurriedly kicking his boxers down his legs and tossing them aside.

She was shaking underneath him, cheeks red, goosebumps across her skin as she took a page breath in, the bones of her ribcage rippling underneath her skin. He stopped for a minute to really look at her.

“Goddamn your beautiful.” He whispered, eyes never leaving hers. Her blush deepened but she just pulled him back down by the chain to kiss him. Slower this time, her fingers moving down his back, nails scratching his skin, causing him to shiver. He sat back, hooking a finger on either side of her underwear and pulled them down her legs, leaning back over her and pushed a finger inside her causing her to gasp.

“That’s the prettiest noise I’ve ever heard.” He pushed another finger inside, moving them in and out, hooking them ever so slightly as he kissed her. She gripped the sheets, balling her hands into fists.

His lips brushed over her neck, eyes flicking up to meet hers as he pulled his fingers out, moving up her body and bracing himself between her legs.

“Tell me what you want.” She reached down, guiding him towards her. His head tipped down, stray hair falling into his eyes. She pushed it out of the way and bucked her hips up to meet his. She closed her eyes dreamily as he slowly pushed inside her, body arching up to meet his. He was so big, so broad as he moved above her, finding her mouth and kissing her slowly, methodically.

Vince splayed a hand across her ribcage and pulled her right leg up over his hip, lifting her clear off the bed. She let out a moan as he pushed deeper than before, hitting a new spot that had never been hit before.

“Vince I-“

He let out a breath, abdominal muscles tightening as he pushed faster, leaning down to kiss her desperately as he did. Her heart felt like it was about to explode out of her chest as a crippling, toe curling orgasm made its way through her body, sending shockwaves from her head to her feet, her entire body flooding with heat. She felt like she couldn’t breath as Vince gave his last few pushes with a groan and leaned down, head resting in her neck. His breath tickled her skin and she could feel his heart beating through his skin. He pulled out and laid next to her, chest rising and falling as he tried to slow his breathing, and he turned to smile at her.

“Your amazing and I-“ He stopped and cleared his throat “And your amazing.”

He’d almost said something crazy, but she thankfully hadn’t seemed to notice as she began to rummage around for her shirt and slipped it over her head before collapsing next to him. She rolled on to her side, eyes closing sleepily and hooked one of her legs with his, and promptly fell asleep.

**********

The cup arrived early the next day, and Vince had jumped out of bed like the house was on fire. He was showered, dressed and putting on his shoes by the time she had come out of the bathroom to get dressed.

“How fancy is this anyways?” She asked rummaging through her suitcase “Like should I wear a dress or pants or-?”

“Whatever you wear will be hot, but I like that one.” He was pointing at a yellow dress she had hung over the back of a chair in the corner of his room. She’d bought it and never worn it, tags still hung from the arm of it. She smiled.

“Perfect.”

There was already an entourage outside when they left the house, many friends and family had gathered in his driveway to watch the cup be handed to him. Even though Josie had no idea what was going on she was still excited to watch him pick up the cup. She googled it the night before and apparently within the hockey community it was a huge deal, so because it was big to Vince, it was to her. He gave her hand a squeeze before he released it and made his way over to the keeper of the cup to shake their hands. His mom spotted her and made her way over.

“You look nice.” She said commenting on her dress.

Josie looked down “Thanks. Vince picked it.”

“Well he did a great job. It’s so special you’re here with him for this, it’s his greatest achievement.”

“I didn’t know him then, but if it’s important to him it’s important to me.”

She smiled at her and gave a small laugh “You are important to him. I hope you know that. You wouldn’t be here if you weren’t.”

Josie smiled and looked back at Vince as he picked up the cup and lifted it over his head and cheers erupted around him.

It was going to be a great day.

[kasienda]

Fanfiction Year in Review 2023

I fill this out every year. It’s become a bit of a tradition for me. Allows me to reflect on everything that I’ve written and kinda think about where I want to go next. And I like it better from the ask games because I don’t have to wait for asks to come in and can compare my answers from one year to the next. ^_^

1 List of fics completed this year in the order they were finished:

Displaced (Ladrien oneshot)

No Regrets (Ladynoir oneshot - smut)

You Don’t Have To Pretend With Me (Platonic Adrino oneshot)

Representation Reveal (S5 Adrinette oneshot)

Kisses in the Rain (S5 AU Love Square - technically multichapter, but it’s shorter than many of my one-shots)

Would Trust You With Everything (Adrino multichapter)

Just An Ordinary Girl (Marichat oneshot)

Love Remains (Ladynoir multichapter)

Spin the Bottle (OT4 with cour four - technically oneshot, but it’s longer than Kisses and has more kisses in it. Haha!)

2 Number of words written: 

Written: 166,114 words

Published: 151,018 words (more than twice 2022’s number!! Go me!!) 

Those numbers are incredibly close together because I haven’t been redrafting as much. Those numbers include six one shots, three completed multi chapters. And another four multi chapter WIPs saw at least one update.

And in another fun milestone! I broke a million words published on Ao3 just this last week!! (I've been writing fic since 2003 and everything I've ever written is on Ao3!)

3 Your most popular fic:

Not Part of the Plan - I suspect that this is mostly because being a teen pregnancy fic, it’s my most tropiest story this year. Haha! 

4 Your personal fav:

Aftermath - This story has usurped Right Behind You as my favorite. I’ve been able to connect to the raw hurt and grief in this story, and there’s something very raw and human about it that others seem to be able to connect to as well. I think it’s some of my best work, and that is also thanks to an amazing beta in @ladyofthenoodle who has lent her expertise in more than one way in making this one more true to lived experience. 

5 Your fav scene:

It’s so hard to pick a favorite!! I narrowed it down to my three favorites in no particular order. 

The last scene in Ch 5 Love Remains - Chat Noir give amnesiac Ladybug a geography lesson from space. It’s got Whole New World vibes, and I just loved the imagery of it.

Ch 4 of Aftermath - I’m particularly proud of Marinette’s panic attack when Adrien tells her she doesn’t have to keep coming over. Like it feels like it comes out of nowhere, but it just totally makes sense. And how it manifests and how she soothes herself (it’s not healthy, but it’s so GOOD!)

Ch 7 of Would Trust You With Everything - The scene where Chat Noir tries to tell Nino who he is, but inevitably doesn’t. And how Nino reassures him through all that. This scene feels so raw, but so heartwarming in light of Adrien’s fears. And I don’t know - it’s beautiful to me.

6 A fic or scene that challenged you:

I really struggled with Right Behind You this year, though it wasn’t for lack of trying! I had started out the year hoping to go back to an update a month here and I only updated it three times throughout 2023. 

This was incredibly frustrating because the initial drafts of scenes would come pretty easily, but I couldn’t seem to make them pop the way the earlier chapters did. The good news is I think I figured out what the issue was. Most of my writing this year has been speed writing. And a big part of that is just where I’ve been emotionally. I’m very very out of practice in editing and redrafting, which this story and Aftermath both definitely need. 

I’ve only been able to edit Aftermath because I’ve had a ton of help. (Thanks Noodles!) Sadly, it’s harder to find betas for rarepairs, but I have succeeded! (Thanks@coffeebanana!)

7 A line of writing you’re proud of: 

“She wanted to be there to see it. To see him.”

This line is way better in context, but I’ve made myself cry about three times with it. And I refuse to explain it because that would give its power away. Guess you’ll just have to go read Aftermath. 

8 A comment that touched you: 

I can never answer this question without mentioning several!! 

Would Trust You With Everything - this story had a ton of enthusiastic followers - way more than rarepair work usually gets, and I wrote this story right after my life fell apart and all the commenters here made throwing this story together just that much more joyful during a time when I REALLY needed it. (I'm looking at you, @bittersweetresilience, @bbutterflies @flightfoot @coffeebanana and so many others that I don't know your tumblr name!!!) Not Part of the Plan Comments - I added sex ed lessons to the end of each chapter here because there’s so much about fertility and pregnancy that people don’t know if typical pregnancy fics are anything to go by, and this seemed to inspire so many people to share their pregnancy stories!!! And these have been so cool because I’ve learned that these stories just don’t often have an opportunity to be shared. And it’s neat that this story with its accompanying lessons could create a space for that!! Aftermath comments - lots of people who have really struggled with moderate to severe depression have apparently felt very seen by this fic. And that a story that is essentially about two characters who feel very alone and like no one can understand can help people feel LESS alone and MORE understood is simply amazing!! I love this story so much!! AHH!! Here's one from @neurovascular-entrapta that meant a lot to me.

9 Something that inspired your writing:

Grief and the need to feel things in a distant abstract-these-are-story-book-characters kind of way so I don’t have to feel my actual feelings as closely every moment of the day really kept me writing the whole year long.

10 Your proudest accomplishment (that one scene; finally finishing that one fic; posting your first fic; etc):

My writing has been really raw and messy this year, and I can’t keep tenses straight to save my life. But there’s something powerful about the rawness that I really like even as all the grammatical errors and the lack of effort on the technical side of most of my stories has driven me nuts. 

I am proud of myself for being able to get back into the big projects in these last few months after not being able to face them from April to October. And I’ve started participating in a few writing events here and there again in addition to working on my own pet projects. 

11 Do you have any writing goals for the next year?

Well, I wanted to finish Not Part of the Plan in 2023, which didn’t happen only barely! So hoping the last chapter and the epilogue make it out within the next month. Once that’s done I think I want to try and make Aftermath and Right Behind You my primary focus projects this year. And of course, I’m sure new plot bunnies and writing events will take over my brain on occasion. Last year, I said I wanted my writing to become a reliable mental health tool for me again, and I’m glad to say that it definitely was that for 2023. I hope I’m able to use my writing this year to continue my healing journey. 

And maybe go and proofread all of the fics I finished in 2023 to fix all the inconsistent tense issues to prepare them for being bound eventually!

12 Anyone you would like to thank?

SO MANY PEOPLE!

@jennagrinsoverml for being one of my oldest fandom friends! For becoming a real life friend for all that we haven't actually met in person. For all the times you vented to me and listened and sent me pictures of your family and gushed over pictures of mine. I'm lucky to know you!

@ladyofthenoodle - for showing up in my DMs, For being a most insightful beta, for dragging me into a larger community over and over again, for listening to both my real struggles and my first world problems, for being my friend!!

@thelibraryloser - I don't know how to put this into words. But I very much look up to you. For your resilience through difficult times - you are role-model for how to handle this world with grace and kindness. Thank you for your stories!

@coffeebanana - for being so enthusiastic in the creation process before and after! When I have a story that is getting no attention one comment from you makes it so it doesn't matter. You give me all I need.

@bittersweetresilience and @wackus-bonkus-maximus for just being so kind and enthusiastic and supportive of any idea I happen to be talking about in any given moment. I guess for enabling me. Haha!

@blur0se and @mila-beedoodling for sharing your ideas and inspiring me to create new things!!

@asukiess, @chocoluckchipz, @sariahsue, @miabrown007 for creating so many beautiful things and for being kind and engaging in so many conversations!

And now, I'm really nervous that I'm forgetting someone because this is the first time where I feel like I've had more than three fandom friends. Haha! It's a good problem to have I suppose. In general, thank you to the miraculous community for helping me to survive this year. <3 <3 <3

Happy New Year Everyone!!

I invite anyone who wants to, to fill this out! (Or something similar because I think it can be modified for artwork pretty easily). But if you do, please tag me, so I can be a cheerleader for all you've accomplished this year!

[lovelyelbowleech]

Hi, currently in love with your work. I’m on my 4th re-read since I discovered All’s Fair several months ago, and I have you to thank for prolonging my current Atla Hyper-fixation. Back in the building.

I wanted to ask when you started this story, how much did you develop characters like Shen or Kazuma? Were they mainstays since the beginning or did you end up coming up with them and their roles as the story progressed?

In chapter 12 of War Crimes, Shen mentions both his brother and his mother eluding to what happened to them so clearly he had something going for him since he first showed up, and it got me started on this train of thought, wondering just how ingrained in the story you figured they’d be? Cause I don’t see a ton of OCs in fics that affect the story this much, nor are such well rounded characters of their own I forget they aren’t in the actual show.

What made you decide to bring their roles in the story to the forefront?

Also, if you’re still doing the WIP and game;

“Stop” or “Dread” ?

Thanks and keep up the good work! heaps of praise upon thee!

Hello! So sorry its taken an age to respond, being sick knocked it out of me.

4 rereads is a lot! Glad you have enjoyed so much!

In regards to your questions about the OCs – it varies from character to character.

During War Crimes, I started planning War Games and I was torn between using Hakoda as the main adult view point character or making someone new. I felt like Hakoda was going to need to be focused on Sokka and their relationship, so I created Shen. I planned a basic backstory for him (his brother, the fact he was essentially a grown-up child soldier) and then sort of just waited to see how it turned out while writing. I didn't really have an end game for him, although I knew the important beats when it came to his interactions with the kids. It was actually the way I wanted to introduce Suki that was the main influence for the direction his story went and I think the catalyst for him becoming so entwined in the story.

Which leads me to Kazuma.... he did not exist until he was on the page 😅 I needed someone to take Shen to be imprisoned with Suki. So I made Kazuma... I like to give even the small characters a little bit of backstory – even if it never makes it into the fic, it makes them feel more nuanced in my head. So I gave him a bit of personality and a (tragic) back story and then decided I quite liked him. I thought his perspective would be interesting – being in a similar position to Shen but on the Fire Nation side. So I just rolled with it, and then somewhere around his first POV I realised he was exactly what I needed for Azula's story. So he was very much a fly by the seat of the pants character! Although when I got him figured out and how he would be involved with the story things became far more planned and now he is all tied up with plot.

Hua was plotted from the end of War Crimes, but Tu was more flexible. I knew how I was going to use him just not the details. Jianjun has also grown as I have written him. I always knew what I wanted him to do, just not quite how 😂, so he has grown as a character as I write.

It was never my intention to get any of them so wrapped up in the plot, it just sort of happened that way, so I’m rolling with it 😅

Thank you for the ask! And the interest in the OC’s ❤️❤️

I will come back to the ask game when I have written a little more of the new chapter 😂

[eureka-its-zico]

Okay, so I have a lot of questions about Chaos in their Bones but feel free to answer the ones you want to.

Specifically, what are the injuries Doc suffered?

Does Doc have any trauma from Arlong? (Like PTSD or something)

Will Doc ever find her real parents?

Will there be more of Doc and Luffy? (Their friendship is so cute.)

And will there be more chapters or short prompts before season 2 of One Piece LA comes out?

Alright, I can answer all of these. Hopefully 🤣

1. Doc suffered A LOT of injuries. A shit ton. Each member of Arlong’s crew took their time coming and torturing her while they waited for Nami to come back. Chew burned her with metal objects he found just scattered around Arlong Park, the classic cigarette, and at one point even set her tank top on fire to watch her struggle in the chains in sheer terrified panic as she smelled her skin melt. The other ones would hit her (bare fist or with objects) until Doc rewarded them with a scream.

Doc sustained extensive injuries that have effectively scarred a majority of her body. A constant reminder she can never run from what happened to her. It’s something that triggers her at times.

But she almost died…but didn’t…and this is explained in Wanted as part of origin story.

2. This goes with your second question of if she has PTSD. Yes. Anyone who goes through something traumatic, not just crazy like I had happen to poor Doc because I’m unhinged, is going to have some form of it. This gets explored more in the coming chapters of Wanted. Certain things make her jump or overreact and this in turn triggers Zoro to be overprotective, because he’s hyper aware of Doc and because of this is triggered in turn. I’m not sure if I’m making sense with this? lol I hope so.

3. We are going to learn about Doc’s real parents in the Wanted Loguetown Arc! In true One Piece style it’s depressing 🤣🤣🤣

4. There is definitely going to be more Doc with Luffy and the other crew! They are one giant weird family and it’s always fun writing interactions for them even if I’m stressing about it.

5. I’m currently working on the first chapter of Wanted, the Loguetown Arc story line I have planned to kind of go along with the actual S2 arc whenever it comes out.

At first, I was worried because I don’t want to touch any plot that they could potentially use so, with help, I was able to come up with a story line arc much like the filler in the usual OP universe, that is going to be Doc’s origin storyline. It will still have the One Piece elements we all love that will hopefully meld well with S2 whenever it’s released next year!

I’m sure I’ll also come up with other stuff or if I ever get requests 😌

Not that anyone asked but here is what the new Wanted header looks like for this arc. Hopefully, it gives the vibe of what is to come 😘

Thanks for this babes! It was fun! Hopefully it made sense 🤣

[bonefall]

Screaming crying throwing up at the Thunder spoiler thread because

-

-THUNDER SPOILERS-

-

Frostpaw coming to the realization that the Park Cats have a culture that she likes better than the culture of the clans, and wanting to bring elements of it back home with her? That COULD be an actually good use of a traveling book, and it WOULD be an actually nice change to see the clans do any kind of self-reflection on the violence of their culture. Unfortunately, I don’t trust the Erins even a little bit to follow through in any kind of satisfactory way on that plot thread, so I worry it’s going to result in the Clans once again looking at an outside culture and taking a very xenophobic lesson away from interacting with it.

I'm still trying to work out my feelings on the return of the Park Cats... overall, I think I'm feeling pretty frustrated, and it's coloring my perception of them

I also really disliked Riverstar's Home, though. I hated the traveling, I didn't find the Park very interesting in practice, was annoyed by a ton of small things. It felt like the book only got good once we were back in the forest, so, maybe I'm still tasting my sour introduction to the Park cats.

I also don't have any faith in the authors to handle Waffle and Wasp well, or any of the practices Frostpaw is planning to bring home. At this point I'm expecting it. What's really on my mind is... why?

Why did they create a whole little unchanging cultural bubble, a group under glass, exactly the same as it was during the dawn of the clans... when they were just going to blast Frostpaw with The Avatar State anyway?

She can talk to Riverstar whenever. And every ancestor who served under him. And you don't even have to waste 6 chapters on travelling. Could we not have learned about meditation from Riverstar, if the Erins are soooo eager to shove the ancestors into this and write him as her spirit guide?

Like, all this time dedicated to a culture whose one trait is meditating. I have frustrations with the Sisters and Tribe, but they're interesting concepts, with their own spiritual beliefs, government, and customs. So far, the neo-Park has been bland.

Like Guardians, a bare-bones group that showed up once in an SE and just existed to serve the Clan cats for a while, and send Tigerheart back with new characters.

But like, back to the Lesson of the Park Cats, whatever thing Frostpaw could bring home

I just... man, I go off about Clan Culture and its violence literally all the time, but this arc has been ridiculously peaceful. We are 4/6ths of the way through and there was one major battle, at the end of a book, which was bloodless. All the fighting has been arguments.

What exactly is Frostpaw going to learn from the Park cats? How to be passive? Is that going to help RiverClan get rid of the occupying army? Will the power of mindfulness help them un-forget all of their battle training and remind them how to do their own laundry?

If (if.) The Erins have planned all this out, then what they're going to do next is have Frostpaw take what she's learned, and use it to help un-divide RiverClan.

Which TO BE CLEAR would be good for Frostpaw as a character!

But that's not addressing the violence of clan culture or even leaning into it. That wouldn't really be a cultural change, so much as Frostpaw having learned leadership skills... which, again, makes me wonder what the point of a culture frozen in time really was, when they blasted her with this super strong, unprecedented magic connection to StarClan.

Idk. Just, generally not vibing with this book if the spoiler thread is to be believed.

[sorryiwasasleep]

In a really fucking frustrating state of being right now and SOMETHINGS gotta give but I’m just… stuck.

I’m fucking STUCK and I can’t get any work done for anything, no matter how much I do (or don’t) want to do that thing.

Like right now, today, all I’ve wanted is to WRITE.

Just… something, anything.

I WANT to write and work on literally any of my fics since I haven’t written anything in three months

And I ALSO actually WANT to write the Final Research Paper that I have to write for one of my courses that only has to be around 3800 words (including footnotes) and is officially due Next Saturday.

The draft version of that paper was due last Saturday. I haven’t sent the Professor a draft yet. Because I don’t even have the paper STARTED. Despite having had my topic picked out for months. Despite having done a fuck ton of reading and compiling of sources. Despite having a ton of passion and care for the subject matter.

Because I open the word document and my eyes just fucking glaze over. I lose all semblance of coherent thought or ability to connect my ideas in a manner that is fitting academia.

So I think, okay, step back, take a break, maybe I need a palette cleanser from writing my LAST big paper that took my three fucking months to write and was also handed in late— I’ll try and crank out a new chapter for one of my fics, since I’ve had the plot points planned out for nearly all my WIPs for months now. But I open those documents and it’s just the same fucking thing.

Nothing gets typed. Nothing gets done. I waste hours feeling restless and unable to settle on one singular activity because I want to do something but nothing I actually do is right and so I continue to feel unsettled and restless and it’s fucking annoying.

And I want to fucking cry and freak out and I don’t even KNOW how to BEGIN to apologize to my professor for the complete radio silence I’ve gone on them about this paper with the not-turning-in the draft and seemingly ignoring their email about my lack of submission when really I’ve done nothing but think about that email for 4 days because I didn’t want to answer without a draft to send but I STILL haven’t fucking been able to get anything done.

Fuck.

Just fuck.

[hunieday]

8th Anniversary story - Chapter 4 : Take on the new project.

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8

Please note that I am not a professional translator and I'm only doing this to share the side materials to those who cannot access them, if you notice any mistakes please let me know nicely. Enjoy!

[Okazaki agency]

Yuki: Huh? A different unit from Momo?

Momo: We’re going to be separated?!

Rinto: That’s right. What do you wanna do? Will you decline?

Momo: What about the idols from the other agencies?

Rinto: Apparently Takanashi Production and Yaotome Production are actively considering taking it.

Momo: I see… If everyone’s fired up to give it their all, then let’s give it our all too!

Momo: You enjoy working with our juniors, right Yuki?

Yuki: I don’t particularly dislike it, but whether or not Momo is present makes a big difference in how at ease I am.

Momo: Sweet! I’m glad I can help my darling out!

Yuki: Well I still want you to help me.

Momo: If I really can’t help you now, maybe you should end up with juniors you're very friendly with, Yamato-kun for example.

Yuki: Huh, Yamato-kun. Can I go with him?

Rinto: They’re planning to select the shuffle members through an internal and a customer survey…

Yuki: Can’t we pull some strings if it’s for TV?

Rinto: It’s more of an advertising project than a TV program, so I don’t think it’s possible…

Momo: If they want to form shuffle units based on the beverages’ themes, it would make sense they’d want to have people with similar images in the same unit.

Yuki: We’re most likely gonna be assigned different teams. Yamato-kun’s definitely getting the beer association. My image tends to lean more towards wine.

Momo: I doubt it’s gonna be alcohol.

Yuki: Juice perhaps? Then, Momo’s definitely gonna be with momorin…

Rinto: Oh…

Yuki: What?

Rinto: I promised not to mention the company’s name… but it’s not momorin’s manufacturer.

Momo: Momorin! I love you, but goodbye!!

Yuki: Tell that to me as well.

Momo: Yuki! I love you, but goodbye!!

Yuki: That would normally hurt me… But, well, it’s my job so I’ll do my best.

Yuki: Maybe it’s not bad at all. Since we’ll be in different units, I’ll watch you perform from the audience seats.

Momo: Let’s bring fans for each other! I’ll wave my penlight the hardest…!

Yuki: I'll find you wherever you are.

Momo: Darling, you’re so handsome! I’m super looking forward to these temporary units!

Momo: I’m also intrigued by this anonymous company………….!

Yuki: What’s wrong, Momo?

Momo: Ah, no…

Momo: Listen, Okarin. Did that company have a recent change in owners?

Rinto: What… I’m not sure. Why does that matter to you?

Momo: Oh, nothing! Just curious. Thought it might be a company I knew.

Yuki: Momo has tons of friends after all.

Momo: Ahaha, that’s true…

Momo: Don’t tell me Ryo-san is behind that company…it can’t be…

Momo: He used to run a trading company before becoming the head of Tsukumo. Bought and sold companies and stuff…

Momo: I hope I’m just overthinking it… he did say he turned over a new page. He needs to grow up.

Momo: I hope I’m wrong…

[Tsukumo Production]

Shiro: ... So, we have a project to form temporary units.

Touma: A shuffle project with other groups! It's gonna be the first time for ŹOOḼ, right? Sounds interesting!

Touma: Right, guys?

Haruka: ...

Minami: ...

Torao: ...

Touma: Huh? You don’t like it?

Haruka: I don’t hate it but...

Minami: Forming units means more TV appearances and live performances...

Torao: We'll be spending more time with the other guys...

Touma: Is that not okay? It's gonna be with IDOLiSH7, TRIGGER, and Re:vale, after all.

Minami＆Haruka＆Torao: ...

Minami＆Haruka＆Torao: I don’t mind but...

Shiro: Is it because you're shy around new people?

Haruka: I'm not shy! It's fine. I’m totally completely fine with it.

Minami: So, will it be two and two? How will we be split?

Shiro: Since you guys are four and there will be four temporary units, it's likely that each of you will join a different one.

Torao: We’re gonna be separated… What about Sougo? As long as I’m in the same unit as him or Ryuunosuke.

Haruka: Me too! I want to be with Izumi or Yotsuba!

Minami: I’m fine with everyone except Rokuya-san.

Touma: What's wrong? I thought you were friends.

Minami: We’re not.

Torao: You had a fight?

Minami: It’s not like that. I just think he’s overly pompous and mighty. Probably due to his upbringing as a prince…

Haruka: More pompous than Torao?

Torao: Not more than me.

Touma: Don’t admit to that so smugly. So, are we going to accept this job?

Minami＆Haruka＆Torao: ...

Minami＆Haruka＆Torao: We'll do it...

Shiro: Great! I'll respond to them right away!

Touma: Please do! I can’t wait to see who we’ll end up with!

Torao: But what's with this company making the offer wanting to stay anonymous? Why are they going through the trouble of keeping their identity hidden?

Haruka: Could it be some kind of prank? Maybe it's Torao's family's company?

Torao: Ahaha. No way...

Torao: ...No way...

Torao: My dad was really happy about my idol debut... No, there's no way he owns a beverage company.

Torao: But maybe he used a friend's company to make this offer as a show of support...

Torao: If my parents suddenly appear in front of these guys as part of some surprise...

Torao: It would be incredibly embarrassing...I absolutely hate it…

Touma: Tora, are you okay?

Torao: Y-Yeah.

Torao: What's the deal with this mysterious beverage company...?

To be continued...

[judesmoonbeauty]

What are your thoughts about the other suitors and how would you rate them on a scale of 1- Jude?

Thanks for the ask, and first let me just say that I think all of the Vil guys are great. There isn’t a single one that I don’t like in some way or another.

Rating them on a scale of 1 - Jude……I guess I’m rating them in terms of how much I see them as LI’s, with Jude being a (10)? I won’t include Vogel because they are so new, but I will say that out of the three, I prefer: Nica, Ring and Darius. In that order.

William: Rating 5: He is such a gentleman to me, and he is sexy as hell. But, he’s simply not my villain. Will is….my bff I get manis done with and confide my life’s problems to. He’s like my psychiatrist? Still, I really appreciate how his lovers desires are important to them and encourages one to express themselves in general. I think that’s important in any relationship.

Harrison: Rating 4 - Harry is my super cool, aloof guy friend that I say hi to as I pass him by in the hall. He is sweet, hot and a total green flag sans the habitual lies, but I think it’s because he’s so green (I feel) that he’s simply not my villain. I love him in events though and how he can be a little mean to the MC. I also got emotional during his second wedding story.

Liam: Rating 6 - Meow meow. Oh my precious baby. Liam is just someone I can connect with emotionally, and he himself is so emotionally intelligent. I love how he can just pick up on things and he is often, as one of my friends who is a MAJOR Liam simp puts it, the voice of reason in the room. I honestly just fell in love with him on the first chapter and not to mention he is warped….I dig warped.

Elbert: Rating 7 - Elle is just…can I please put him in my pocket and protect him? He is so kind, tender and just precious. He doesn’t want to cause anyone pain, and I really love how protective he can be. He is quiet, soft-spoken and mellow. His presence is literally healing, and as greedy as he is, he is just as generous (I feel). Seeing him grow to the point of speaking up and putting his foot down just makes my heart swell.

Alfons: Rating 7 - Ally and I got off on the wrong foot, but I’ve come to love him. He truly cares for the MC in his very own unique way, and he is def the jelly type and I love that in f/o. But his character develops in such a wonderful way. Plus, he is fine asf. I got so emotional during his Wedding part 2 event. He’s won my heart over, so much so, that I am planning to create an OC for him eventually. Hm, maybe I should come to terms with it and bump him up to an 8?

Roger: Rating 4 - He’s a great guy! Still, Roger is very much a big brother to me. He is very insightful, fun, and totally dedicated. I wish I had a big bro like him in my life (I’m the eldest.) We'd go to the pub all the time for steak and ale.

Ellis: Ranking 9: My baby briar thorn. Oh, he is so warped, cute, sweet, selfish and I adore him. Ellis is just a very interesting character because his desires tend to conflict with each other, and as time goes on we see him grow more and more selfish and possessive, and again that is my cup of tea. He is also an extremely hard worker, has life goals and is extremely competent. Plus, I love his relationship dynamics with Harry, Roger and Jude. Seeing Ellis makes me…..happy.

Victor: Ranking 5 - Not because he isn’t mysterious, villainous, caring, silly, a Mary Sue, and drop dead gorgeous, but because I simply don’t know a ton about him. Does he lie and have secrets? Yes. Will he do anything to protect Crown? Sure. I think he has potential to rise in the LI rating department, but I need more information. One thing is for sure. I’m protective as hell over him, especially when it comes to Darius and his dislike of Vivi.

Anyway, I think each of the villains we love just clicks with us. While I was interested in Jude, I don’t think I chose Jude the day I rolled his five star card. I feel like the spiteful fairy chose me…and my wallet has been in the sweetest hell ever since.

[eleanor-bradstreet]

Let Me Be Your Anchor

Chapter 4: Flight

Benedict Bridgerton x Sophie Beckett An Offer From a Gentleman reimagined Chapter rating/warning: T - brief depiction of sexual assault Word count: 8.5k

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Author's Notes: Now we're getting into the swing of it! Fair bit of AOFAG snippets in this one because there were exchanges I really liked. Heads up if you have read my other fic Fever. Dream. that a portion of this chapter is recycled. I was actually pulling from this fic to write that one before I knew this one would be shared. 💙

[Revisiting Benedict and Sophie two years later during the party at Cavender House as written in Part Two/Chapter 6 of AOFAG. 

It’s the spring of 1817 and the ton are in London. Depressed and listless, Benedict went to the party in the countryside for a change of scenery only to be disappointed by obnoxious drunks. He is leaving and feeling ill. Cavender House is located in Kent and Benedict plans to spend the night at Aubrey Hall. He does not own a bachelor cottage.

Sophie sold the Cowper’s jewels only to find they were made of glass (courtesy of one Jack Featherington). She scraped by with scullery work and selling her hair. Over two years she worked her way back into housemaid roles and has ended up in the employ of the Cavenders. The aging parents are kind but Phillip Cavender has been regularly harassing her.]

Two Years Later

With his parents away, Phillip Cavender had invited the most vile assortment of noblemen to fill his family home with drink and smoke, shouts and chaos. Sophie knew she should have left the grounds immediately, but Mrs. Cavender had treated her well, and she didn’t think it was polite to leave without giving notice to the lady of the house. With no locks on the doors of the servants’ quarters, she had angled a chair in front of hers and sat upon her bed, praying that Phillip would find distraction with one of the many hired ladies in attendance. 

Her prayers were not answered. Phillip had come banging into her room, easily shoving the chair aside. He began pawing at her, pinning her to the mattress. 

“Look what I have here,” he cackled. “Little Miss Sophie, my favorite housemaid.”

Sophie’s mouth went dry, and she wasn’t sure whether her heart started to beat double time or stopped altogether. “Let me go, Mr. Cavender,” she said in her sternest voice while she struggled. She knew that he liked her helpless and pleading, and she refused to cater to his wishes.

“I don’t think so,” he said, his lips stretching into a slippery smile. “I want you to join the party.” Restraining her with one arm, his free hand snaked up her torso, groping and beginning to reach down the neckline of her dress. She could smell the whiskey on him. Whiskey and the reek of dark intent. His voice was husky as he slurred, “You know you’re born to serve.”

When his rough fingers dragged across the skin of her chest, some primal corner of her mind snapped to attention and took control of her body, making everything both crystal clear and numbingly distant at the same time. She knew definitively that she was going to get out of this situation. No matter what it took. No matter what behavior she had to exhibit and to whom. Her knee moved before she commanded it to, driving swiftly up between Cavender’s legs.

She saw his eyes widen with pain for a split second before he doubled over, wheezing. When he tried to lunge for her again, her arm flew on its own, planting her fist into the side of his jaw. Cavender hit the floor with a thud, groaning as he began to roll across the boards. After the initial shock of her own actions, Sophie flew into a panic, stepping over the crumpled man to throw her few belongings into a bag. This was her chance. Without another look back, she hitched her skirts in one hand, clutched her bag in the other, and ran out into the night.

Her flight to the road was a blur. Her mind was blank to everything except one imperative: run. It felt as if she reached it instantaneously, but she knew it was a fair distance from the house. When her eyes began to refocus and the roar began to fade from her ears, she slowed to a walk, gasping. The night air was cool and soothing. The lights and noise of Cavender House were barely perceptible through the trees. The waxing moon illuminated the road in front of her and she set off for the village.

As she regained her composure, a sense of dread crept over her. She had attacked a gentleman. For her, a penniless maid, it was an offense worthy of a life in prison, if not transportation to the other side of the world. She certainly could not work in another household of the ton, lest word spread to find her. She hoped maybe he had drunk enough that he would not remember what had happened. But she could not rest on that hope. Perhaps he would be too embarrassed to tell anyone. Then she may be able to work quietly in a home a long distance away. But she would never be sure that Cavender would not visit that household someday and find her. No, as long as she stayed among the gentry, she would always be at risk. There was nothing for it, she would need to change her occupation. She could find work in a city somewhere doing…something. 

As she began to contemplate the many dangerous and demeaning ways poor women might make money in a city, Sophie heard the fall of hooves approaching behind her. Her stomach sank. It could be Cavender, or someone he sent after her. She glanced over her shoulder and saw a single rider on a white horse moving at no great speed. The Cavenders did not own any white horses but nevertheless, she began to dart off toward the trees. She knew the rider had already seen her and how futile a chase would be, but it was her only fleeting chance at freedom.

“Hello there?” The rider called out, his voice gentle, somehow familiar.

She paused. He certainly did not seem to be chasing her and it was not unusual that other people may be out on the road at this hour. Something within was telling her not to run. Where did she know that voice from? But she was not about to have a roadside chat with a stranger in the middle of the night. She needed to get to the village. She continued to walk along the side of the road, eyes forward, her steps purposeful but not frantic.

The rider caught up with her in quick order and slowed his horse to match her pace. “Good evening, Miss.”

He sounded polite enough but it didn’t stop Sophie from feeling a stab of annoyance. She was going to have to converse with this person, delaying her arrival to safety. Tired and unable to hide the grimace from her face, she turned to look up at him. For a moment she could only see his silhouette - a tall shadow with unruly hair and a high collar. Then her eyes adjusted and his features emerged in the moonlight. Dear god, it was Benedict Bridgerton.

She froze, every sound and every feeling melting away until all she could see was him. She didn’t even breathe as she stared. She had been fleeing for her life, running from torment, facing a hopeless future, and then suddenly Benedict Bridgerton appeared on a white horse like a knight in a fairy story. She wondered if she had fallen in the road and dashed her head on a rock because why else would she be seeing him unless she was hallucinating or in heaven?

“Are you alright?” he asked, stopping his horse beside her. Sophie’s breath hitched. Those were the last words he had said before she ran out of the masquerade so many years ago. She had heard them echoing over and over in her dreams. Of course she recognized his voice. Sophie nodded, looking him squarely in the eye, waiting for him to recognize her. 

“It’s a bit unusual for a woman to be walking the road alone so late at night. Do you work at Cavender House?” He held the reins in his hand, looking her up and down.

She continued to wait silently, jutting her chin so that he might see her better. Surely he would be able to tell. Maybe it was too dark for him to see her properly.

“Miss?” His face was growing increasingly concerned.

She wasn’t sure if she knew how to form words but found herself replying, “Not anymore.”

“Oh,” Benedict frowned. This night was not turning out at all how he had anticipated. Cavender’s party was not exactly the bacchanalia he had been promised. Benedict had always found him to be a weaselly sort of fellow but he had grown so bored with the stuffy events of the London season that he would have accepted any invitation that got him out of the city. Rather than finding distraction in the amusements on offer, he had been repulsed by the callow attendees, their slovenly overindulgences and blatant disregard for the women hired to entertain. He had seen his own share of raucous parties to be sure, but there was still such a thing as taste in how one enjoyed themselves and what he had discovered was that Cavender and his friends were lacking in it.

It wasn’t only the company that had spurred him to leave early. Feeling an ache settling into his bones, he was forced to accept that he had not fully recovered from a recent chest cold. The stink and noise filling Cavender House were aggravating his poorly condition. He had managed to extricate himself, tired and wanting nothing more than to throw himself into a bath at his ancestral home. It was a long road to Aubrey Hall but he thought he had the strength to manage it.

Except now there was a strange young woman in the road and he was not one to ignore a soul in distress. The nearest village was at least two miles away and she was alone, carrying nothing but a small bag which, he guessed, was everything she owned if she had just left the employment of the house. From what he could see of her in the moonlight she was lovely, with a short crop of hair and large, luminous eyes. He had the oddest sensation that they may have met before, though he didn’t know how that was possible. Perhaps she had worked in a household he had visited.

Dismounting, he stood before her, trying his best to seem trustworthy. “Something drove you out of the house in a hurry.” 

Sophie continued to stare, unwilling to believe that he didn’t recognize her even now that they were so close. 

Benedict was running out of ideas to get her to speak so instinctively, he reverted to humor. “I’ve just come from there myself. Between you and I, it was turning my stomach to be around that bunch of louts. Plenty of drink, plenty of frivolity, but certainly no sense of taste.”

“No,” Sophie rasped, beginning to understand how he came to be there. It had indeed been a tasteless party, led by a tasteless host. She was reassured that Benedict wasn’t of the same ilk as Cavender, given his poor opinion of it. For the past two years the memory of him had been the only thing giving her the motivation to press on through the toil of each day, the dream of him and the fantasy life they may have shared together if she had been born legitimate. If it had turned out that he was no better than Cavender, she would have nothing left in her miserable little life. Not even the memory of the masquerade to treasure. But here he was, miraculously comforting her by the roadside, an avenue to safety. 

She opened up to him, surprised at her own words. “I was treated roughly so decided to leave.” Not the whole truth, but enough to explain why she was walking through the night.

Benedict’s brow furrowed with concern and he nodded. “May I ask your name?”

Her name. The name he had begged her for at the masquerade. Now she would tell him for the first time. “Sophie Beckett,” she croaked.

“Pleasure to meet you, Miss Beckett. Are you headed to the village?”

“Yes,” she nodded. “To the Wayside Inn.”

“Would you permit me to take you there?” He chose his words carefully. He didn’t know what this woman had endured at Cavender’s but if it was enough to send her hiking out into the road at night, it must have been awful. Being approached by another man was likely the last thing she wanted, but if she trusted him, he’d rather it be him escorting her than god knows who else. If she declined, he would leave her be.

“Yes,” she agreed so readily it surprised him. 

“Excellent,” he smiled. “I will drop you there and continue on.” Surely he could manage a detour on the way to Aubrey Hall. He would rest easier knowing she was safe. He held out his hand. She did not take it. She just continued to stare at him curiously, her head cocked to the side. “Are you certain you’re all right?” he asked.

And that’s when Sophie realized. When they first met her face had been covered by a mask. Her hair had been longer and powdered to a lighter shade, lovely tresses that she had since sold to a wigmaker. She had grown scrawny in the intervening years of hard servitude. It was two entire years ago and they had only spoken for an hour or so, outside in the dark of the Bridgerton House garden. She understood now. He didn’t recognize her. How could he? She was not the same woman he had met on that magical night. 

She finally took his hand, her thoughts racing. Should she reveal herself? Would he believe her? As she followed him silently, he led her to the horse and patted the beast gently. “This is Danae. Not as comfortable as a carriage I’m afraid, but certainly faster than walking.” He grinned, his lopsided smile crinkling his eyes, and she felt her legs falter. 

As her mind whirred, Sophie moved automatically, lifting herself onto Danae and perching sideways behind the saddle. Benedict looked up at her, the cheeky grin still playing on his lips. “Where are my manners? I’m Mr. Benedict Bridgerton by the way.”

She almost said “I know,” but caught herself. Her voice cracked as she feigned ignorance. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir.”

He glanced down at her legs. “If it would be easier, you can sit astride. No need to stand on ceremony with me.”

Benedict was on his most gentlemanly behavior. It was only right that he escort this quiet, poor young woman away from the fiend Cavender’s house and to a place of safety. It was also ridiculous to force her to ride sidesaddle. Firstly, she was not even properly in a saddle, and second, it was a most awkward feat that he had never understood how women managed. He genuinely wanted her to be secure and comfortable while they rode. But he also couldn’t help finding something alluring in the way she lifted her leg and swung it around to sit astride. 

Sophie caught a flicker of something devilish in his eyes as she repositioned herself. It forced a smirk across her own face even as the debate raged within her on whether to tell him that they had met before.

Benedict mounted into the saddle and took the reins. He was an inch away from her now, his broad back and dark hair filling her vision. She could see the fine velvet texture of his coat, the glint of the moonlight off the waves of his hair, and she could smell his cologne - sandalwood, fresh parchment, a walk in a green forest. She closed her eyes, breathing him in, her every sense engulfed by the man in front of her. Was this a dream? Was it a nightmare?

“Hold on,” he said over his shoulder. Sophie’s eyes flew open. Oh god, she hadn’t even thought about this when she agreed to ride with him. She would have to hold onto him, to wrap her arms around him and press their bodies together. She didn’t know if she would be able to bear it, but there certainly wasn’t any way to avoid it now. With great trepidation, she settled her bag securely in her lap then lightly rested a hand on either side of his torso.

She could hear him chuckle under his breath. “Tighter than that or else you’ll fall off, Miss Beckett.” Gently, he pulled her hands across his chest. Her palms rested against the buttons of his coat and she trembled as she realized she could feel him breathing. 

“There we are,” she could hear the smile in his voice. Then he signaled to Danae, tapped her with the stirrups and they set off in a gentle, steady trot. 

They encountered no one else on the road and the night was silent save for the trills of evening insects. This was nothing like the masquerade where they had so much to say to one another. But Sophie reminded herself that this was different. She was a maid and he was a gentleman of the ton. They shouldn’t have anything in common now.

But still, she kept waiting for him to recognize her and tell her he’d been looking for her for two years. But that wasn’t going to happen, she soon realized. He couldn’t recognize the lady in the housemaid, and in all truth, why should he?

People saw what they expected to see. And Benedict Bridgerton surely didn’t expect to see a fine lady of the ton in the guise of a humble housemaid.

Not a day had gone by that she hadn’t thought of him, hadn’t remembered his lips on her skin, or the heady magic of that costumed night. He had become the centerpiece of her fantasies, dreams in which she was a different person, with different parents. In her dreams, she’d met him at a ball, maybe her own ball, hosted by her devoted mother and father. He courted her sweetly, with fragrant flowers and stolen kisses. And then, on a mellow spring day, while the birds were singing and a gentle breeze rustled the air, he got down on one knee and asked her to marry him, professing his everlasting love and adoration.

It was a fine daydream, surpassed only by the one in which they lived happily ever after, man and wife, always with a new adventure in store; traveling across the Continent, filling their home with art and music, and visiting with the large Bridgerton family, a family that she could then call her own.

But even with all her fantasies, she never imagined she’d actually see him again, much less be rescued by him from the roadside after escaping a licentious attacker.

Benedict broke her reverie with a rasping cough before asking, “Is that bag all that you have?” 

“Yes,” she admitted. “This is everything.”

He was silent for a moment, then said, “You have quite a refined accent for a housemaid.”

He was not the first to make that observation, so Sophie gave him the answer she kept in store. “My mother was a housekeeper to a very generous family. They allowed me to share some of their daughter’s lessons.”

“Why do you not work there?” With an expert twist of his wrists, he guided Danae to the left side of the fork in the road. “I assume you do not speak of the Cavenders.”

“No,” she replied, trying to devise a proper answer. No one had ever bothered to probe deeper than her offered explanation. No one had ever been interested enough to care. “My mother passed on,” she finally replied, “and I did not deal well with the new housekeeper.”

He seemed to accept that and they rode on for a few minutes. The night was almost silent, save for the wind, the clip-clop of the horse’s hooves and an occasional hacking cough from Benedict.

“Are you unwell, Mr. Bridgerton?” Sophie asked. 

“I’m fine,” he gasped, jerking slightly on the reins. 

And then there was more silence. Sophie tried to keep her eyes scrupulously straight on the road ahead, but they unfailingly wandered back to Benedict, to his shoulders, his hair, the angle of his jaw. She had the most absurd fear that if their eyes met, he would finally recognize her. But that was mere fancy. He’d already looked her squarely in the eye, more than once even, and he still thought her nothing but a housemaid.

Benedict was trying to fight down the coughs that continued to rise from his chest but it was getting harder and harder to do so. What a strange night. He could feel the creep of his oncoming illness and was growing more weary with each passing minute. He desperately wanted to rest but he also felt singularly invested in seeing Miss Beckett safely delivered to the inn. While rare enough to have a stranger riding on Danae, her arms wrapped around him, he felt the oddest tingling sensation across his skin where she was touching him. The heat of her against his back nearly made him shudder. There was something about her he couldn’t place. He stole a glance over his shoulder. There was something familiar about the curve of her cheek as well…

“Have we met?” he blurted out.

“No,” she choked, her answer instinctual as a spike of fear shot through her. “I don’t believe so.” 

“I’m sure you’re right,” he muttered, “but still you do seem rather familiar.”

“All housemaids look the same,” she said with a wry smile.

“I used to think so,” he mumbled. 

Sophie admonished herself as soon as the words left her lips. Didn’t she want him to recognize her? Wasn’t she hoping he would come to his senses, leap off the horse, gather her in his arms and declare his love? Didn’t she want him to carry her off to the life of her dreams?

But that was precisely the problem. They were just dreams. In her dreams she knew Benedict Bridgerton. In her dreams he loved her. Loved her enough to marry her despite the circumstances of her birth and the chasm of a class divide that existed between them. These were dreams and nothing more. In reality she barely knew this man. He had flirted with her at a masquerade when he believed she was a debutante. Just because it had been special for her did not mean it was special for him. He was a man, after all, and had most likely had passionate encounters with dozens of other women. She knew, in his position, that he attended scores of balls. Why should one masquerade stand out in his memory? Perhaps it was so insignificant that he never again thought of the lady in silver. If she revealed herself to him now there was a fair chance he would feel honor bound to return her to Cavender House or perhaps to Araminta. Either way she would end up in prison for theft or attack. Quite the opposite of a dream come true. 

It was best if he did not recognize her. She didn’t know if she could survive his rejection or retribution. She would be grateful for this second meeting that they had, though she railed against fate that it felt like a bittersweet joke being played upon her. She would enjoy the sight and feel and smell of him, the sound of his voice, for these brief moments, rounding off the dreams she had carried with her for years, then allow him to leave her at the inn and once again exit her life. It was heartbreakingly painful but she knew it was for the best.

As if the sky acknowledged her sorrow, she suddenly felt the plop of raindrops spattering her shoulders. 

“It’s raining,” she observed, immediately scolding herself for sounding obtuse.

Benedict looked up. The moon was now obscured by clouds. “It didn’t look like rain when I left,” he murmured. A fat raindrop landed on his thigh. “But I do believe you’re correct.”

She glanced at the sky. “The wind has picked up quite a bit. I hope it doesn’t storm.”

“Of course it will,” he said wryly. “Because we are out in the open. If we were in a carriage there wouldn’t be a could in the sky.”

“How close are we to the village?”

“About half an hour away, I should think.” He frowned. “Provided we are not slowed by the rain.”

“Well, I do not mind a bit of rain,” she said gamely. Then her voice grew quieter, “I have not yet thanked you.” 

Benedict turned his head sharply but again could only see the side of her face. By all that was holy, there was something damned familiar about her voice. But she was just a simple housemaid. A very attractive housemaid, to be sure, but a housemaid nonetheless. No one with whom he would ever have crossed paths.

“Any gentleman would have done the same,” he said at last. He wasn't sure which part of him was tied into tighter knots, his body, which was heating up as his throat began to ache, or his mind which was perplexed at why this woman was having such an odd effect on him.

Then the heavens opened up in earnest with a crack of thunder. Within minutes both of them were soaked through, pummeled by rain torrenting in sheets.

“I’ll get there as quickly as I can,” he shouted, trying to make himself heard over the wind.

“Don’t worry about me!” she assured him.

He nudged Danae into a faster pace, but the road was growing muddy, and the wind was whipping the rain every which way, reducing the already mediocre visibility.

Bloody hell. This was just what he needed. He knew he was already falling ill, and a ride in the freezing rain would not help matters. Of course, if he were ill, his mother couldn’t try to cajole him into attending every single party in town, all in the hopes that he would find some suitable young lady and settle down into a quiet and happy marriage.

To his credit, he always kept his eyes open, was always on the lookout for a prospective bride. He certainly wasn’t opposed to marriage on principle. His brother Anthony and his sister Daphne had made splendidly happy matches. But Anthony’s and Daphne’s marriages were splendidly happy because they’d been smart enough to wed the right people, and Benedict was quite certain he had not yet met the right person.

No, he thought, his mind wandering back a few years, that wasn’t entirely true. He'd once met someone…

The lady in silver.

When he’d held her in his arms and twirled her around in her very first waltz, he’d felt something different inside, a fluttering, tingling sensation. It should have scared the hell out of him.

But it hadn’t. It had left him breathless, excited…and determined to have her.

But then she’d disappeared. It was as if the world were actually flat, and she’d fallen right off the edge. And his long search had been fruitless. Interviewing family, friends and staff, no one knew anything about a young lady attending the masquerade in a silver dress. No one except his brother Colin who had also met her for a brief moment but confessed he had never seen her before or since. He had leaned hard on his younger brother, driven to near madness by every dead end he had encountered. Had Colin slipped something into his tea? Recruited a friend to seduce him as some kind of elaborate prank? When he saw the flicker of concern in Colin’s eyes he eased off, ashamed of how uncharacteristically bitter he was becoming.

He remained distraught. His only other clue, the lady’s silver glove, had also yielded no helpful information. He had clung to it, carrying it in his pocket for three days before Eloise asked why he had not brought it to the modiste to decipher its origins. In truth, he had thought of doing so but had not yet mustered the courage to face Genevieve, an old flame that had been so swiftly and unceremoniously snuffed out without explanation. With little more than a dismissive curtsy she had moved on, no longer escorting him in debaucherous adventures through the demi-monde. It was her prerogative of course and he harbored no ill will toward her, but still felt a pang of shame speaking to her again for the first time with another woman’s glove in his hand, begging his former lover to help him find the woman he wanted to marry.

In a few days more, the enduring mystery pushed him past his embarrassment and he found himself standing on the doorstep of the dress shop. Gen was surprised to see him and looked even more baffled as he produced the solitary silver glove, asking if she knew where it had been made and perhaps who had purchased it. Her expression was unreadable as she took it from him, examined it for a moment and then proclaimed she didn’t recognize it. She suspected it may have been purchased from any number of shops or street vendors but it was not her creation. After awkwardly extending his thanks, Benedict was back on the street marching to every clothier, atelier and corner shop he could find. None of them would claim ownership of the glove and each failed attempt widened the void of despair growing in his heart.

Over two years he never learned anything more about his lady in silver. For all intents and purposes, it was as if she hadn’t even existed.

He’d watched for her at every ball, party, and musicale he attended. Hell he attended twice as many functions as usual, just in the hopes that he’d catch a glimpse of her. 

But he’d always come home disappointed.

He’d thought he would stop looking for her. He was a practical man, and he’d assumed that eventually he would simply give up. And in some ways, he had. After a few months he found himself back in the habit of turning down more invitations than he accepted. A few months after that, he realized that he was once again able to meet women and not automatically compare them to her. 

But he couldn’t stop himself from watching for her. He might not feel the same urgency, but whenever he attended a ball or took a seat at a musicale, he found his eyes sweeping across the crowd, his ears straining for the lilt of her laughter.

She was out there somewhere. He’d long since resigned himself to the fact that he wasn’t likely to find her, and he hadn’t searched actively for over a year, but…

He smiled wistfully, despite the rain on his face. He just couldn’t stop from looking. It had become, in a very strange way, a part of who he was. His name was Benedict Bridgerton, he had seven brothers and sisters, was rather skilled with both a sword and sketching charcoal, and he always kept his eyes open for the one woman who had touched his soul.

He kept hoping…and wishing…and watching. And even though he told himself it was probably time to marry, he just couldn’t muster the enthusiasm to do so.

Because what if he put his ring on some woman’s finger, and the next day he saw her?

It would be enough to break his heart.

No, it would be more than that. It would be enough to shatter his soul.

Benedict breathed a sigh of relief when he saw the distant lights of the village of Rosemeade. He determined that he too would need to shelter at the inn for the night before continuing on to Aubrey Hall the next day. 

He felt a pang of concern as he realized Miss Beckett’s pale hands were shivering against his chest. But, he thought with a touch of admiration, she hadn’t let out even a peep of complaint. Benedict tried to think of another woman of his acquaintance who would have stood up to the elements with such fortitude, and came up empty-handed. 

“We’re almost there,” he assured her, but his voice faltered and he was gripped by a wave of coughs, the deep, hacking kind that rumble down in one’s chest. His lungs felt as if they were on fire, and his throat like someone had taken a razor blade to it. 

Sophie winced as he convulsed within her arms. “You don’t sound well.” she shouted over the wind.

“I’ve a cold coming on,” he called back to her.

“I don’t want you getting sick on my account.” She tried to sound somewhat teasing, but in truth, she was terribly concerned. 

He tried to grin, but his face ached too much. “I would’ve been caught in the rain whether I’d taken you along or not. I was planning to go as far as Aubrey Hall, which is miles away.”

“Still - “ Whatever she’d intended to say was lost under another stream of deep, chesty coughs. Danae whinied as the reins went slack, but she held her course toward the village lights. 

Benedict shook his head, trying to clear the rain from his eyes and hold himself together for the final few minutes. His coughing fits were coming closer and closer together, and each time they were deeper, more rumbly, as if they were coming from the very pit of his chest. His throat was torn raw, but he kept his eyes ahead and spurred Danae on. Sophie’s hands clung to him tightly, with concern or fear he wasn’t sure, but he was grateful because she was, in fact, helping him to stay upright. 

He was wheezing by the time they reached the village high road and fortunately, the Wayside Inn was situated at the near edge of town. He turned Danae into the stables alongside the building, not bothering for anyone to wave them in. They had to get out of the rain. Once under the rooftop, a stableboy appeared and ran over to grip the horse’s harness.

“Evening, Miss. Evening, my lord. Nasty weather!” 

Benedict didn’t have the breath to converse unnecessarily. He went to haul himself down from the saddle but discovered that his every bone ached, his skin was on fire, and his clothes were so heavy with rain that he failed to rise. Before he knew it, Sophie had jumped down and was talking with the boy. His ears were ringing and he missed what was said, but the boy hitched Danae to the nearest post and dashed into the building.

“Come inside,” Sophie looked up at him and extended her hands. He stared at her, seeing her in the lantern light for the first time. She was soaked through in her thin cloak, dripping strands of her short hair matted against her face, her skin white with cold. Her large eyes were concerned but also insistent. She wasn’t delicate, that much was clear, and she was now trying to escort him to the inn, when he knew it should be the other way round. Truly, was he that weak that he had to be helped down from his horse by a woman? He appreciated her concern but he would not be so humiliated. Another round of coughs bent him double over Danae’s neck and he fought to regain his breath. He still ignored her hands and half-fell out of the saddle but was caught from stumbling to the ground by a man in an apron who had just emerged.

“Woah! All right, my lord?” the man asked, steadying Benedict on his feet. 

Before he could respond, Sophie spoke, “Mr. Bridgerton is quite ill and will need a room for the night, as will I. Please help him inside.”

Benedict was dumbfounded. Who was this maid to be issuing orders and tending to him like a child? He was very well in control…

“Very good,” said the man in the apron, placing an arm around Benedict’s back and urging him forward. Though he hated to admit it, Benedict did indeed need the support, as his legs were all but failing him, muscles sore from the ride and bones aching within. Sophie followed closely behind as they all entered the inn while the stableboy returned to tend to Danae.

The Wayside Inn was warm and charming, an undeniable refuge from the wailing storm outside. The man with Benedict did not stop at the front desk but continued straight down a candlelit hall and guided Benedict, stumbling, into a room. Sophie turned to the man at the desk. He was white-haired and rotund, with mutton chops and kind eyes.

“Don’t worry, Miss,” he spoke gently. “We’ll see that the gentleman is taken care of. I’m the innkeeper, Mr. Cooper,” he smiled.

“Thank you Mr. Cooper. I’m Miss Sophie Beckett.” Sophie was suddenly aware of how awful she must look, like a drowned rat with her clothes dripping pools onto the floor, but he did not seem to take notice. 

Mr. Cooper bent and scribbled something in his ledger. “And the gentleman you are with, the boy said he’s a Mr. Bridgerton?” 

“Yes,” Sophie nodded. She had sent the stable boy inside to fetch help and had shared his surname, hoping it would carry a weight deserving of urgency. “Mr. Benedict Bridgerton,” she confirmed. He scribbled again and she continued. “He was delivering me here before continuing on to Aubrey Hall. But he has fallen ill. We will need two rooms for the night, and can you send word to the Hall in the morning to send a carriage to collect him?”

Mr. Cooper nodded, “Aubrey Hall, yes, yes. I’ll send a boy there as soon as the rain stops. Cost for the two rooms…” He stopped writing and looked up as she began to dig into her small, soaked bag. “Cost will be charged to the Bridgerton estate. I’ll send the bill with the boy tomorrow.”

Sophie froze. The innkeeper likely assumed she was a maid employed by the Bridgertons and as such, Benedict would pay for her. That or he was extending her a courtesy and being incredibly diplomatic about it. She had the coin to afford a night in a modest room of the inn but could not afford two. It did make sense for Benedict’s expenses to be charged to his estate but she should pay her own way. She decided not to confuse the matter. She would settle up with Benedict, paying him in reimbursement.

She thanked Mr. Cooper as the man in the apron returned to the entryway. “Follow me, Miss,” he beckoned her down the same hall and into a large guest room. 

This was far more than the modest tier of room she could afford. It was clearly one of the inn’s finest accommodations reserved for upper class guests with a four poster bed, upholstered armchairs and a fire roaring away in the tiled fireplace. Sophie stood in the doorway gaping but before she could protest, the man explained. “Mr. Bridgerton requested that you have the room next to his.” There was, she detected, a tone of curiosity and perhaps a bit of snideness to his voice. No doubt he wanted to know why a bedraggled housemaid had shown up with a distinguished member of the ton and was being granted such luxury. She too wanted to know why Benedict had requested this.

“You will also need some dry clothes,” the man continued. “I have sent one of the maids to find a spare night dress.”

“Thank you,” Sophie said weakly, overwhelmed.

The man half-smiled, half-grimaced, then closed the door. The warmth of the fire beckoned her and she went to stand before it, holding her hands as close to the flames as she dared. She peeled off her damp cloak and smoothed her hair to look halfway presentable. She sat before the fire, warming herself and staring about the beautiful room. There certainly was no way she could afford to reimburse Benedict now. But, she reminded herself, if it was his request to have her stay in this room, she supposed he planned to pay for it as well. 

Without warning, she found herself inexplicably in tears. She cried for what could have been her fate that evening, and she cried for what had been her fate ever since her father died. She cried for the memory of when Benedict held her in his arms at the masquerade, and she cried because she had held him in her arms this very night. 

She cried because he was so damned nice, and even though he was clearly ill, even though she was, in his eyes, nothing but a housemaid, he still wanted to care for her and protect her. 

She cried because she hadn’t let herself cry in longer than she could remember, and she cried because she felt so alone. 

And she cried because she’d been dreaming of him for so very long, and he hadn’t recognized her. It was probably best that he did not, but her heart still ached from it. Eventually her tears subsided and she eyed the bed, feeling the weight of exhaustion descending on her. God above, a feather mattress and down coverlet looked like heaven on earth. She hadn’t slept in such comfort in years. But first, she should look in on Benedict.

Stepping out into the hall, she approached the door she had seen him led into. She knocked and called out quietly, “Mr. Bridgerton?”

A muffled sort of groan replied, which would have sounded like an invitation if it had been intelligible. She let herself inside and closed the door. Benedict was sprawled in an armchair before the fireplace, feet resting on the small table in front of him which held a decanter and glass half-full of some spirit. His outer coat had been removed but he was still in all of his sopping clothes, waistcoat unbuttoned and cravat hanging loose. He was pale, his eyes were bloodshot, and his disheveled hair continued to send rivulets of rain down the sides of his face. He clearly had collapsed there upon arrival and not moved since.

“How are you, sir?” She asked.

His eyes rolled slowly to look at her. “Not too well,” he rasped.

The fire he sat beside was not as tall as the one in her own room, Sophie noticed. She moved across and knelt, turning the logs with the poker. “You need to get warm,” she said. She could feel his eyes on her and suddenly wondered if it was dangerous to remain in the same room as him. She didn’t think he was likely to make an untoward advance; he was far too much of a gentleman to foist himself upon a woman he barely knew. No, the danger lay squarely within herself. Frankly, she was terrified that if she spent too much time in his company she might fall head over heels in love.

And what would that get her? Nothing but a broken heart. Sophie huddled in front of the fireplace for several minutes, stoking the flame until she was confident that it would not flicker out. “There,” she announced once she was satisfied. 

She turned to look up at him. For the first time that night she could see his face clearly in the bright light of the fire. She held her breath, seeing how simultaneously similar but still how different he looked from the vision in her dreams. When they first met he had been wearing a mask, the same as her, and she had only seen his full face for one fleeting moment after the gong had sounded and before she had run away. She had had to construct his face in her mind from that single moment and often found it easier to remember him in the mask. But here he was, in the flesh. His mouth was the same as her memory, his eyes the same piercing blue-grey, bloodshot as they may be at the moment. But to see all his features together, they were greater than the sum of their parts. He looked older now, slightly more world-weary, and like he smiled less often. His hair too was shorter, lending to him an air of increased responsibility, making him look less wild and boyish.

“Thank you for the room,” she said softly. “I could have paid for my own.”

“No,” he croaked, reaching for the glass on the table. “I needed to make sure you were somewhere warm. I didn’t get you from the side of the road just so you could die of influenza.”

He took a gulp of the brown spirit, swallowed, but then began to cough anew, the spasms wracking his body and forcing him to bend over at the waist.

“Begging your pardon, Mr. Bridgerton,” she could not help commenting, “but of the two of us, I should think you’re more in danger of contracting influenza.”

“I’m sorry,” he said hoarsely, “I-”

“There’s nothing to feel sorry about,” she said. “You need to get into bed.” 

He swallowed convulsively and nodded, rising unsteadily to his feet, and managing to plod over to the bed. He bent over as he was once again engulfed by coughs. Sophie hurried to his side and stumbled under his weight when he decided to lean against her instead of the bedpost.

“Over here,” she guided him to sit on the edge of the mattress.

He grinned, “You coming?”

She pulled back, “Now I think you’re feverish.”

He lifted his hand to touch his forehead, but he smacked his nose instead. “Ow,” he frowned, sticking out his lower lip. His hand crept up to his forehead. “Hmmm, maybe I am a bit hot.”

It was horribly familiar of her, but his health was at stake, so Sophie reached out and touched her hand to his brow. It was burning. In fact, she could feel the heat radiating off the whole of his body from where she stood. “You need to get out of those wet clothes,” she said. “Immediately.”

Benedict looked down, blinking as if the sight of his sodden clothing was a surprise. “Yes,” he murmured thoughtfully. “Yes, I believe I do.” His fingers went to the buttons on his shirt, but they were clammy and numb and kept slipping and sliding. Finally, he just shrugged at her and said helplessly, “I can’t do it.”

“Oh, dear.” she sighed. “Here,” First things first, she pulled his jacket down from his shoulders and he moved his arms to help her slip it off. It felt as if it weighed ten pounds, it was so wet. Next was his waistcoat, a lovely deep blue color with a gold brocade. Then her fingers went to work on his cravat, golden yellow silk held together with a jewel encrusted pin in the shape of a honeybee. She knelt before him, gently tugging the knots loose. He gave her a lopsided smile, his voice slurring, “Not very…” he coughed again, this one lower and deeper than before. “...gentlemanly of me.”

“Oh I think I can forgive you this time, considering the way you helped me this evening.” She smirked at him as she pulled the cravat loose, the wrapped layers slipping around his neck until it was freed. All that was left was his ruffled shirt. She made quick work of the buttons, gritting her teeth and doing her best to keep her gaze averted as each undone button revealed another two inches of his skin. “Almost done,” she muttered. “Just a moment now.”

He didn’t say anything in reply, so she looked up at his face. His eyes were closed and his entire body was swaying slightly. 

“Mr. Bridgerton?” she asked softly.

Benedict’s eyes flew open. “What?”

“You’re drifting off,” she warned him. “You can’t fall asleep in wet clothing.” 

He blinked confusedly. 

“Have you something dry you can change into?” she asked.

He shrugged the shirt off, tossing it to the floor. Sophie felt her stomach lurch, kneeling before him as he sat there shirtless, and she instinctively stood and stepped back. 

“No,” he mumbled, his hands falling to the buttons on his waistband.

“What are you doing?”

He looked over at her as if she’d asked the most inane question in the world. “Taking my trousers off.”

“Couldn’t you at least wait until I’d turned my back?”

He stared at her blankly.

She stared back.

He stared some more. Finally, he said, “Well?”

“Well what?”

“Aren’t you going to turn your back?”

“Oh!” she yelped, spinning around as if someone had lit a fire under her feet.

Benedict shook his head wearily as he sat on the edge of the bed and pulled off his boots and stockings. God save him from prudish misses. He stripped off his trousers - not an easy task considering they were still more than a little damp and he quite literally had to peel them from his skin. Once he was undressed, he quirked a brow in the direction of Sophie’s back. She was standing rigidly, her hands fisted tightly at her sides. 

With surprise, he realized the sight of her made him smile. Overwhelmed by descending exhaustion and the aching of his entire body, he grabbed the edge of the coverlet, dragged it over himself, sagged back against the pillows and groaned.

“Are you all right?” Sophie called.

He made an effort to say, “Fine,” but it came out more like, “Fmmph.”

He heard her moving about, and when he summoned up the energy to lift one eyelid halfway open, he saw that she’d moved back to the side of the bed. She looked concerned. 

For some reason, that seemed rather sweet. It had been a long time since any woman who wasn’t related to him had been concerned for his welfare. 

“I’m fine,” he mumbled, trying to give her a reassuring smile. But his voice sounded like it was coming through a long narrow tunnel. “Go to bed,” he grunted.

“Are you certain?”

He nodded. It was getting too difficult to speak.

“Very well. If you need anything, just call out.”

He nodded again. Or at least he tried to. Then he slept.

Tagging: @angels17324 @broooookiecrisp @secretagentbucky @eg-dr3amer3 @time-to-hit-the-clouds @lyta2323 @autumn-grace @sadprose-auroras @the-other-art-blog @goldrambutan @colettebronte @heeyyyou @musicismyoxygen84 @faye-tale @ambitionspassionscoffee @starchaser325 @malna4903

[feroshgirlsims]

Chapter 4.2 - Dating for Weirdos

ALICE

They end up at Annie Joe’s as a result of Alice’s “Develop a Plan in Realtime” tap dance. It’s a leftover habit from her time with Jeffery. He would never say exactly what he wanted, leaving her to deploy a bunch of coy observations, questions that weren’t really questions, and leaps of faith to figure it out.

“Are you planning to go inside, or do you have some kind of telepathy that allows you to place orders from the sidewalk?” Vlad’s delivery is so deadpan Alice has no idea if he’s teasing her. Plus, he won’t even look at her. 

She bites back the urge to explain that no matter how happy her ex was to meet his friends here, he got so pissed when Alice took him that he shook her until her teeth rattled.

Why did she let him do that? Why did she accept it? Even now, when she knows she was being gaslit, her muscle memory keeps her feet stuck to the pavement.

“I’m afraid this place will poison me,” she lies because it's better than admitting her fear.

“The campus cafeteria will poison you,” Vlad admonishes, but he’s smiling. “This place will change your life. The food is delicious. You made an excellent choice.”

Alice looks down at her feet because she knows if he reaches for her hand she’s going to throw up.

Please don’t do it. Please don’t. 

It takes a few seconds to pull herself together, but when she looks up, Vlad is just holding the door open. Relieved, she follows him into the diner. 

They get stuck behind a woman yelling at a server about her bill. A server who clearly doesn’t give a shit, which—

Good for her. That’s who Alice used to be.

When they get their seats and scan the menu, Alice’s stomach is so twisted in knots from mourning her former self that she only orders coffee. Vlad, meanwhile, raises a brow, doubles the coffee, and then proceeds to order enough food to feed an army. 

The coffee arrives. 

The silence stretches. 

Alice has exactly two thoughts in her head:

Why is talking so hard?

And why is she so broken that she can’t even make conversation? 

She doesn’t realize she’s actually voiced those thoughts until Vlad answers.

“Talking is hard because everyone wastes time saying the opposite of what they mean, and thus, every conversation is deciphering whether you should respond to the thing someone has said or the thing they mean and depending on the time of day and the height of the sun in the fucking sky it could be either.” He sips his coffee, “The problem is not you. The problem is that there are no rules, and hell is other sims.”

Alice doesn’t know whether to wince or laugh. She didn’t used to have such dark thoughts. Being around tons of sims made her happy. She loved parties. Now, large groups make her sweat, and she can’t get through a party unless she has access to alcohol.

Lots and lots of alcohol. 

Hell is other sims.

Vlad takes in her expression and sighs. “I’m sorry. That was…” He breaks off. “I’m probably not going to get through this date without saying something off-putting. I can be unsettling despite my best efforts. Or, well, not really my best effort,” he says almost to himself, “More like no effort if I'm being honest.”

Alice’s mouth falls open. It's a stunning thing to admit on a first date. Sure, she has some obvious flaws, but still, she was worth a little bit of work. “D-did I hear you right?” she demands, “You’re not even trying?”

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(Part 2 of 4)

Honestly, shout out to @coolpuppy12, who built this amazing lot! I love it so much 😭😭😭

Also, just gonna say some stuff about Alice here:

When I was young (Alice's age), I was in an abusive relationship, and getting out of it was a REAL MINDFUCK. It took time to get back to my old self (or, I guess, learn that you can't really go back, but you can become something new and better). And when I started working on this story, I was debating on how much of this to actually put in.

Ultimately, I decided to just go for it, which has been pretty cathartic to write.

Anyway, I just wanted to flag this because Alice will probably come off as a bunch of contradictions for a while (She's confident! She's not confident! She's horny! Wait, don't touch her!), and that's just coming out of writing my own experience. She's finding her footing and mourning her old self while trying to trust again.

But rest assured, this is a HEA (Happily Ever After), and baby is gonna figure herself out!

I guess it just felt important to me to write someone in the messy middle bc I needed that when I was in the messy middle. And seeing someone make it to the other side? Fucking chef's kiss.

Okay, enough of me oversharing emotional trauma on the internet! In about five minutes (aka the next part), Vlad is going to say something completely outrageous, and this date is gonna get weird and funny, I promise lol.