#but he wasn't on any of his carts when i checked them so i guess he's gone 🥲

[wildflowercryptid]

wistfully thinking about my beloved delphox from my original x playthrough. if only you could've seen this, kuranosuke...

#i don't have him anymore unfortunately i traded him over to my brother for safekeeping #but he wasn't on any of his carts when i checked them so i guess he's gone 🥲 #and yes i named him after the princess jellyfish character i was very into the anime at the time #xy has a very special place in my heart the plot is a mess and doesn't flesh out or utilize its characters very well #but it's also the first game that i got very attached to my team and made me fall in love w/ the franchise #it's also got the best post-game storyline of the mainline games to me #i'm excited to see kalos again i can't wait to learn more about the game #also if it's set not too long after xy then we better see emma again my girl deserves some focus in the main story #it'd be so fun if we actually get to join the looker bureau and protect the city w/ emma i'd love that!! #mj.txt

[thefallennightmare]

Broken-eight

*credit to whoever credit the gif. found on google/pinterest*

Pairings: Barry Keoghan x Reader

Warnings: angst, swearing, fluff, implied smut, mentions of alcoholism and death.

Summary: A failed marriage wasn't in the cards for Reader, she thought she found her happily ever after with Barry. While trying to overcome the heartbreak, a tragic event brings them back together temporarily. Will the devastating loss bring them back together or be what pushes them apart for good?

Authors Note: I've noticed a bit more traction with this story since the last update. Makes me very happy!

The house was an eerie, unsettling quiet, as the only noise that echoed throughout the house was the dreaded grandfather clock. I always hated that thing, my mom did as well. It was my dad that brought it home one day, years ago. He used to love antiquing, and I could remember his exact words and the way he said it on that day. 

“Oi, quit your whining. It’s a beautiful clock, almost as beautiful as you.” My dad mused while kissing my mom on the lips. 

Their love was like any other, never fighting, always being by each other's side no matter what they went through. I had always strived to find a love like that, promised myself that I wouldn’t settle until I did and for a while, I thought it did with Barry. How wrong and naive I was. 

With a soft sigh, I pinched my eyes shut in hopes to stop the tears from falling. I had done enough crying for the day, hell maybe even the week, when I returned home from my therapy session. After Barry had walked out to answer his phone call, I gave an apologetic smile to Ms. Rogers before sauntering out past Barry. I decided not to get a ride back home with him, upset about the way he acted during our session, and got a taxi instead. Barry never even looked away from his phone as I stormed out of the therapy office. 

That was a few hours ago and I had been alone since then. No word from Barry on where he was or if he was coming back. There was a small ounce of hope that he was so upset and angry with the session that he decided I wasn’t worth it anymore and went back to his own place. 

“I can only wish,” I mumbled to myself as I kept myself busy by sorting through the stack of mail. 

Typical bills or letters, a few cards offering their condolences, and at the bottom of the stack was the dreaded manila envelope that I had yet to open. I was afraid to find out what my parents had left me in their will or if there was anything left to leave me. However, I knew I couldn’t put it off forever, whatever was in the envelope needed a final decision soon. 

My eyes glanced over to the empty bar cart and I silently wished there was even half a bottle left. Anything to give me the courage to open the envelope. 

The grandfather clock chimed loudly six times, indicating it was now six in the evening. With a check of my phone, I realized that Barry hadn’t called or texted me and came to the conclusion that he had in fact returned to his own home. 

I tapped my foot, weighing the decision between my shoulders almost as if there was an angel on one and a devil on the other. 

Stay home and waste another night in front of the television or go to the pub that was a short walk and enjoy one drink. 

It was only one drink, what could hurt? Barry was gone which meant that whatever deal we had was officially off of the table. 

Before I could second guess the decision I had made, I snatched my keys from the bowl next to the front door, my footsteps bounding down the concrete steps. 

“One drink,” I said out loud to myself. 

“Where ya headed?” 

My feet halted as I nearly ran into the body that stood in front of me with a suitcase in one hand and a brown bag in the other. 

“Barry?” I asked. 

His brow raised. “Again I ask, where ya headed?” 

My mouth ran dry as I tried to come up with an excuse. “I was running to the market quickly. We’re out of eggs.” 

Barry motioned to the paper bag in his left hand. “I already went. Try again.” 

“Why don’t you tell me where you’ve been all afternoon?” 

As much as I tried, I couldn’t hide the jealous tone from my voice. The thoughts of where he was or who he was with wouldn't stop the entire time he was gone. 

He merely shook his head before walking past me into the house. “Jealousy never looked good on ya, Y/N.” 

I scoffed, offended, and followed him back inside. 

“I am not jealous. I just wanted to know where you’ve been? I thought you went back home,” I said while tossing my keys back into the bowl. 

“Is that why you were headed to the pub?” He asked while putting away the groceries. 

My mouth pulled to a thin line, my silence being the answer he needed. 

“I thought we had a deal?” Barry sighed while looking directly at me. 

I bit down hard at the inside of my cheek to keep the snarky remark to myself. 

“Well, I thought the deal was off since you disappeared all afternoon,” I reiterated my words from earlier.

He sat down on the couch while I kept my hands sprawled on the back of it, looking down at him. There was a tiredness in his eyes and suddenly I felt a pang of guilt. 

“After my phone call with the promoter, I decided to head back to the gym for another quick spar. The guy I’m fighting in big time around here. I want to make sure I’m prepared,” Barry explained, him still looking up at me. 

I nodded, moving around the couch to sit, making sure there was still some space between us. 

“I also had to grab some more clothes,” he motioned to his suitcase next to the front door. “I’ve got five days left with ya but can’t keep wearing the same clothes.” 

“Oh,” I nodded again, eyes looking over to the other couch in the room that still had the blankets and pillows from his slumber last night. 

“Is the couch fine?” I asked. “I feel terrible knowing there’s another bed for you to sleep in. It’s my parents but.” 

My words trailed off, the strength to finish the sentence faltering at the mention of my parents. Barry immediately understood and placed a soft hand on my thigh. 

“I’m fine with the couch. It’s only for a few more days,” he said. 

The way my stomach fell made me realize that as much as we had been fighting lately, I was going to miss him when he did in fact leave. 

“So,” I adjusted myself on the couch, Barry’s hand falling away. “Can we talk about the therapy session?” 

He sighed and ran a hand over his face. “I don’t see how we got anywhere when all she cared about was our sex life?” 

“I mean, it was an honest question she asked us. You said it yourself, we got married young.” 

“What did you want me to say? That all I cared for during our marriage was sex?” Barry asked. 

I pointed between us. “We did start off as friends with benefits.” 

“I know,” he nodded while pursing his lips slightly. “But if I remember correctly, you were the one that said no strings attached.” 

“Yet, I was the one who fell the hardest,” I muttered while cracking my knuckles. 

With the way Barry sighed, I knew he had heard my voice even if I tried to keep it to myself. 

“Y/N,” he squeezed his eyes shut. “I don’t know what else you want from me.” 

Anger began to boil low in my stomach but refused to get upset with him just yet. There was something I wanted to know, something that Ms. Rogers asked him before our session ended.

“Do you still love me?”

The question wavered, my voice cracking on the word love.

Barry lifted his head from the back of the couch and stared at me, lips parting slightly. His pupils dilated before avoiding my own gaze, staring at his hands in his lap. 

“I do-.” 

He was cut off by the sudden loud ringing of his phone and I started to wonder if he had somehow rigged it to interrupt our important conversations as a way to get out of it. 

I was about to tell him not to answer when the flash image of a blonde appeared on the screen, my heart dropping low in my belly. 

Alyi. 

“I thought you two broke up,” I said. 

“I never said that,” Barry responded, his thumb ghosting between the answer and decline button. 

I hummed. “Then why won’t you answer it?” 

With a quick decision, Barry hit the red decline button before pocketing his phone. 

“I don’t feel like fighting with someone else right now,” he shrugged. 

I shook my head. “We’re not fighting.” 

He let out a low chuckle. “That’s all we ever do.” 

“Then why are you still here, Barry?” 

“For you,” he said. “To make sure you get sober again and stay sober.” 

My eyes rolled to the back of my head and I stood to my feet. “It’s been two days. I haven't had a drink since the night of my parents' funeral. Clearly, I’m doing fine and don’t need you here anymore.” 

There was some hostility to my voice, something Barry picked up on immediately. 

“Fine?” he stood to his own feet, his height towering over me a bit. “If you’re fine, then how come you haven’t read through their will yet?” 

I blinked, unsure how to answer. 

“It’s none of your business. I’m waiting until you leave to read it,” I crossed my arms over my chest. 

“Another excuse,” Barry shook his head before brushing past me, towards the bathroom. “I need to shower.” 

“Oh, fuck you!” I snapped, the anger I did my best to keep at bay exploding within me. “I tried to have a civil conversation with you but you're the one that always makes it into a fight.” 

“I’ll talk to ya once you’ve calmed down,” he called over his shoulder. 

Barry came to a quick halt right outside of the bathroom door when he felt a pillow crash into his back. I had another one in my hands ready to throw when he turned to face me, eyebrow raised to his hairline. 

“Did ya throw a pillow at me?” 

“I want to do a lot more,” I seethed. “I want to smack that smug smile off your face.” 

Barry took a few steps towards me, the smug smile he wore almost an invitation. Do it, it practically screamed. 

“You’re so fucking infuriating,” I yelled throwing the pillow at him. 

He smacked it away, it falling to the floor at his feet, but continued to close the distance between us. 

“Stop throwing pillows,” he said with an even tone. 

“I don’t need you here, Barry! You’re making everything worse!” 

He stopped about a foot away from me, eyes twinkling with a mischievous gleam as he caught another pillow I chucked at him. I groaned in annoyance, ready to throw something else, anything else at him in hopes he knew exactly how angry he was making me. 

I was doing fine without him. Yes, I relapsed but I could come back from it. I always did. It was only a moment of weakness, given everything I had gone through the last year I say it was justified. Barry being here did make everything worse. Seeing him every morning when I wake or being around him in general made all of the feelings I had to force myself to bury slowly creep back into my heart. 

“Tell me to leave,” Barry said nonchalantly. 

My bottom lip caught between my teeth, but I held my head high. “I don’t need you here anymore.” 

He clicked his tongue while leaning closer towards me, his warm breath fanning my mouth. “Not the same thing, grá .” 

That nickname. The same nickname he had called me so many times before caused my heart to soar into my throat and I shuddered at the lowness of his voice. 

My eyes bounced from his mouth up to his own eyes and when I moisten my dry lips, I let out a deep breath. 

“I’d be fine if I never saw you again.” 

Barry moved a strand of loose hair behind my ear, fingers grazing over the skin of my neck. My entire body shuddered with pure euphoric bliss when I felt his hand scratch at the hairs on my scalp, eyes fluttering shut with a hushed moan falling from my lips. 

“We both know that’s a lie,” he mused while his other hand traced down the skin of my arm. 

Damn him. Barry knew exactly where to touch me, all these years later, to make me a puddled mess in his hands. I was like a dog that was getting his ears scratched. It was pathetic. 

Seven chimes from the grandfather clock struck which caused me to jump in Barry’s light embrace and I stepped away from him, his hands falling to his side. 

“Is this a joke to you?” I blew out a shaky breath. 

The smugness faltered from his face. “What?” 

“My feelings,” I said, feeling the tears caught on my lashes. 

Barry quickly shook his head. “Of course not.” 

“Then why do you keep messing with my head? You say you don’t love me anymore but yet touch me the way you used to or call me the names I loved once before.” 

“I never said that.” he said, not missing a beat. 

It was my turn to look at him confused. “What?” 

With his hands stuffed deep into his pockets, he let out a deep sigh. “I never said I didn’t love you anymore.” 

As that was his parting words, Barry turned his back to me, retreating into the bathroom. 

#barry keoghan #barry keoghan x reader #barry keoghan and reader #barry keoghan x yn #barry keoghan and yn #barry keoghan reader insert #barry keoghan smut

[robmacz]

My Friend Eric

Part 2

It was our last year in high school and a group of us had decided we would head on down to Florida for spring break. Initially there were seven of us - Todd, Andy, Jerome, Eric and me plus two girls who hung around with Andy and Jerome. However, despite the fact that we were all 18 the parents of the two girls put a stop to them coming when they found out what was planned. That was fine with me. They were nice enough but by now I just wanted to see guys in their shorts on the beach. Andy and Jerome were strictly heterosexual, on the school football team and always the guys the girls wanted to be seen with. Todd, well I did wonder about his sexuality. Nothing obvious, but I thought he might be curious. I guess we were an odd group, neither Eric nor I was much into football, but Todd was the link; he was on the football team and was also on the swimming team with me. Eric was no swimmer, but he used to help out with the timings or whatever. At the time I wasn't out, but I think most people at school knew which side I played for. Not so sure they knew about Eric back then, though, unless they knew about his crush on me.

So the five of us guys headed on down there, arriving on the first weekend. We spent the first few days on the beach and in the bars. We all had fake IDs, which would satisfy the bar staff, but wouldn't pass any real checking by the cops. We had been warned that there was a clampdown on drinking, but we didn't go over the top. None of us ended up being the worse for wear. We just chilled out on the beach with a few beers and gate crashed as many parties as we could.

It was about three or four days into the trip when it happened. I seem to remember it was a blisteringly hot day and we had run out of sun block. Eric headed back to the hotel to get some more because he and Todd were getting increasingly red. Not long after, the beach cops drove by on their carts. They stopped about ten yards away and got off and started to walk about among the crowds of people. We had already dug a hole in the sand where we stored the beers and placed a bag over it, but there were still a couple of cans of Bud visible on the beach towels. We looked at each other wondering whether we should try to hide them or whether doing so would draw attention to us. All of a sudden cops seemed to converge from every direction.

'You guys all over 21?' one of them asked.

'Yes Sir' we all replied in unison.

'Y'all got some IDs on you? the second cop asked.

We started to undo our bags and our wallets and pull out our IDs and hand them over, while the first cop lifted up the bag covering the beers in the hole in the sand.

'Looks like you got yourself enough for a good party' he said

Meanwhile the second cop was going through the IDs.

'So which of you is gonna come clean first? I'm willing to bet my month's salary that these aren't genuine. I've seen some good fake IDs in my time, and these don't come close. Better you come clean right now boys, or it will be worse when you get to court'.

It was Jerome who broke first. I remember thinking he would be such a shit poker player. It looked like he was going to burst into tears, he just started to blurt everything out. The rest of us didn't have a leg to stand on, so we all came clean as well.

'Well thank you boys for coming clean, but I'm gonna have to take y'all in, do you understand?'

He told us each to get up one by one and the two cops cuffed our hands behind our backs, reading us our rights as they did so. I had never been handcuffed before, but the sensation of it made me go hard instantly. And when I saw the other guys all with their hands cuffed behind their backs, that only made it worse. All three of them were pretty hot, Andy in particular. I just hoped no one else could see my boner. I couldn't even look down to check it out.

A Jeep arrived, driven by another cop. There was only room for two of us inside, so it had to make two runs. Todd and Jerome went first, while Andy and I stood on the beach handcuffed with hundreds of people just staring at us. The Jeep returned shortly after and I remember as I was climbing into the back that I caught a glimpse of Eric, who had just returned from the hotel. He wisely didn't identify himself; he just stood there and watched. One of the cops slammed the door shut and got in the front seat and drove off. I remember it was uncomfortable sitting with my hands cuffed behind my back, but my dick was still rock hard. I looked over at Andy, he looked so hot just sitting there.

It was only a very short journey, no more than a few minutes. The Jeep pulled off the beach and into a clearing where there was a bus and several cops. We were helped out of the back, just in time to see Todd and Jerome having their handcuffs removed and a set of chains applied. They seemed to consist of a pair of handcuffs connected by a long chain to a set of shackles. The handcuffs went on first, this time in front, and then the prisoners lifted up their bare feet to have the shackles clamped round their ankles. Once they were fully chained up they were escorted onto the bus. Then it was our turn. The handcuffs were removed from behind our backs and given back to the beach cop, the chains were applied to our hands and we lifted up our bare feet to have the shackles applied to our ankles. This did nothing to bring my boner down. We clambered on to the bus, not easy when your feet are chained together, and found that there were about a dozen other guys all in the same predicament - cuffed and shackled, wearing nothing but their shorts.

We waited on the bus for about an hour before it drove off. During that time another six or eight guys were brought onboard. Some seemed to be mortified, others seemed to revel in it, like a badge of honour. The bus trip to the county jail didn't take all that long. Once we arrived we were ordered off and led inside where we were immediately put into what seemed like a giant pen. One by one we were each called out and taken to be processed. The cuffs and shackles were removed and we were given jail clothes to put on, a bright orange jumpsuit with white t-shirt, white boxers and orange plastic slides. We were then allowed to go into a cubical to change out of our shorts and put on the jail gear.

After we had changed we were taken to have our fingerprints and photograph taken. Some of the guys tried to make funny poses for their mugshots, but the deputy on duty soon made sure they knew this was no laughing matter. After the photos it was time to collect our mattress and some toiletries before being escorted to our cells. I ended up sharing with Andy, much to my delight. We entered the cell and the door slammed, making such a noise that it made us both jump. Todd and Jerome were also together but were a few cells down from us. I took the bottom bunk and Andy the top one.

At least with Andy on the top bunk he wouldn't see my boner, which was not constrained at all by either the boxers or the jumpsuit. We chatted a while and joked about how the holiday had not turned out as we had expected and we both talked about the hell we would get from our respective fathers when we got home. Without a word of warning he jumped down from the top bunk and pulled his jumpsuit down to show his own dick at full attention sticking out of his boxer shorts.

'Those cuffs really made me horny, Robbie. You wanna suck it? I know you do'.

I didn't quite know what to say. Was this a real offer or was he going to humiliate me if I went towards it? After all Andy had shown no gay signs at all, but you could never tell. This was a once in a lifetime opportunity and I was willing to risk humiliation. I bent forward and took it all in my mouth. It was oozing precum and it was not long before I felt the warm sticky liquid fill my mouth. He seemed to enjoy himself in a way I had never expected. He surprised me again by starting to undo the poppers on my own jumpsuit and sliding my dick out of my boxers. He took it in his mouth and sucked on it hard. It did not take me long to cum; there was no way I could control it for long and he seemed to lap it up.

We both came again twice that night, but in the morning he looked down from his top bunk and said:

'What happened in this cell stays in this cell. I never want to talk about it again, do you understand?'

Later that morning we were transported to court in the same full set of chains that we were brought into jail wearing. Eric was sitting in the court when we went in. He gave us a thumbs up as if to say that everything is all right. I had a feeling Eric would sort something out. Organising things was what he was best at. Instead of the public defender representing us we had a lawyer engaged by Eric's dad. He was a lawyer himself and had phoned up a firm they had dealings with in Florida. It was apparently a favour to be called in. The lawyer managed to get all charges dropped. I'm not quite sure how he did that, legal loopholes presumably.

By the afternoon we were back on the beach, though this time with no alcohol. Eric was the hero of the hour and the rest of the week remained uneventful. When we got home my drunken father beat the shit out of me; it's what finally drove my mother away. Andy's reckoning with his dad was just verbal. I never did tell anyone what happened in the cell that night.

To be continued…

#arrest #jail #prison

[slashersteve]

ii. fall

part two to confetti ✦ previous part ✦ series masterlist ✦ archive link

pairing: Single Dad!Steve Harrington/Female Reader

summary: Autumn was your favorite season, and spending it in Hawkins made you enjoy it even more when you spend most of it with Steve and Cassie.

warnings/extra tags: cursing, girl dad steve, fluffy, fall activities ive had to study because im a clown, moms are still in love with steve, its literally just steve and reader being all heart eyes for any little thing fall edition, mentions of steve's dumb parents, steve is a good daddy, surprise character appearance, beta read, edited by me so that's fun

note: I think this is the longest part because I love fall and wanted to put everything in it akljslkajsa thanks for waiting, and enjoy more Steve and Cassie ♥️

✦✦✦

October’s first school event would be the annual bake sale. You learned it was a long lasting tradition of the schools, and that it was an event that helped fund a lot of the winter activities for Hawkins Elementary, and maybe even some field trips for the following year, depending on how successful it was.

Now though, you were free from studying, and made your own money, and you were going to make at least something.  

“I usually just keep it simple like cookies or something,” Heidi told you during your shared lunch break, “The baker on main street comes, and trust me, he goes all out and gets the highest sales.” 

“Is it a competition?” you questioned as you ate your homemade sandwich and flipped through a magazine that was always left in the office lounge. Heidi chuckled into her salad. 

“No, no,” she said, “Between you and me, he’s a bit of a show off when it comes to it, which makes sense because he’s good at what he does, right?” 

You honestly couldn’t say you’ve visited the baker’s yet, you didn’t even know his name, so who were you to say if his baked goods were actually good or not. 

“Anyway, cookies are the easiest way to go, brownies are also simple, cupcakes and muffins are a little more complicated but it’s not a whole cake at least, right?” Heidi chuckled to herself, and it made you chuckle too because of how glad she was that the office wasn't doing a cake walk, “I guess it depends on how good of a baker you are, but like I said, our baker goes above and beyond so it doesn’t really matter.” 

You hummed with interest before your eyes settled back onto the magazine, catching a photo of some delicious looking cookies covered in light brown sugar. They were apple cinnamon sugar cookies, according to the recipe title, and Heidi saw your eyes peak with interest and she leaned over to look at them too. 

“Oh those would be good, you should make those,” Heidi told you with a nod, “I can taste them already.” 

So, you found yourself at the grocery market right after your work day ended, a basket in one hand and the recipe you cut out of the magazine with a pair of scissors from your desk in the other as you scoured the market for the proper ingredients.

All purpose flour. Check. Cinnamon. Check. Baking soda. Check.

There was still more, like the cream of tartar and the actual apples for example as the recipe called for grated apples so ‘there would be pieces of apple in every bite.’

You were looking down at the magazine cutout as you were walking, admittingly not paying much attention to where you were walking or who you were dangerously close to colliding with, not until a familiar voice spoke up. 

“Dee’s mom is going to make a cake,” the high-pitched voice of Cassie Harrington echoed across the aisle, “She said it was going to be like..three cakes on top of each other.”

“What? That doesn’t sound right,” Steve Harrington’s voice replied back to her, and you were stopping in your tracks and looking up to see the back of Steve’s head as he was leaning over a shopping cart to look at his daughter. She was holding onto the side of the cart while she carried three cake mixes in one arm, just barely as one looked like it was slipping from her grasp. 

“That’s what Dee told me, so we need to make a cake too,” she stated in a matter-of-fact tone. 

You just sort of stood there, feeling a bit of anxiety flush through you because you hadn’t seen nor talked to Steve since Back to School Night a few weeks prior…you never received a phone call from him, but to be fair, you hadn’t called him either. 

You felt a bit guilty for not calling him, having been so busy yourself.

“Cass, they’re making a cake because they’re part of the cake-walk though, and we’re not,” Steve tried to explain to her, but she wasn’t having it, wanting to bake a cake rather than just bringing store bought cookies, some of which were currently resting in the cart on top of other groceries. 

“But you didn’t make these cookies,” Cassie pouted, turning to look at her dad. It was then that Cassie had seen you, her eyes landing on yours until she recognized you before they flickered down to the basket you were holding. 

She was suddenly pointing at you, and you took a step back quickly to put some space between you and her dad as she said, “Look! She’s baking something!”

Steve was turning his head, his brows furrowed in confusion before his eyes too landed on you. He blinked a couple of times at the sight of you, and you offered a smile as you said, “So, you’re going for store-bought cookies?” 

After a second or two, you watched Steve laugh breathlessly and nod, “Yeah. I’m not much of a baker, to be honest. Never have been.” 

“But you made us those other cookies last time,” Cassie cut in, and Steve looked down at her. 

“Those were pre-made, all I had to do was pop them in the oven,” Steve reminded her, and she huffed, still hugging the cake mix boxes to herself as she looked back at you. Her eyes grew curious then, and she asked you what it was you were baking. 

You held up the magazine cut-out, amused by the fact that Cassie was desperately trying to make her dad make literally anything homemade for this bakesale. 

“Something called apple cinnamon sugar cookies, bit of a mouthful,” you told her, holding out the cutout to show her. She leaned in a bit, examining it until her eyes lit up and she hummed as she practically melted on the spot at the sight of the cookies. Steve leaned over to look at it too.

“God, those do look really good,” he said quietly to himself, making you smile as you dropped your hand back to side just as Cassie turned to look at her dad and say, “We can make that too! Please! The stuff is all there!” 

She gestured to your hand that held the cutout, and you waved it in Steve’s face. He scoffed at you, though it was more out of amusement than anything else before he took it from you to actually look at the recipe itself. 

Cassie was giddy standing beside the cart, hugging the boxes of cake-mix tighter to herself as she awaited for her dad to finish reading through the recipe. His features contorted slightly and he said, “What the hell is a cream of tartar?”

This made you laugh, and you said, “My thoughts exactly, I was actually just looking for it.” 

His contorted expression vanished as he laughed too, and held the cut-out for you to take back, and looked at his daughter with an apologetic look,  “I want to say that seems easy enough, but…god I just don’t think I have the time to actually make these.”

Her face fell, and it was probably the saddest you’ve ever seen Cassie Harrington who was always so smiley and had half of an attitude whenever she came around the office still to give you food she didn’t want. 

“But…but she could help us,” Cassie said, now turning that sad look of hers toward you. It made you pause, not remembering the last time a kid has ever tried the ‘sad puppy dog’ look on you. The kids you used to babysit all the time did it with you whenever they wanted to stay up later or have another sweet. You’d grown immune to that, but there was something about Cassie specifically looking like that that made you feel bad…like she probably wanted you to. 

Steve gave Cassie a raised brow and said, “Don’t give her that look.” 

Her eyes turned into a small glare, pointing to her dad and he gave her one back until it became a staring contest between the two. You just sort of stood there, looking between them now with a half-curious and half-amused expression as they just stared at each other and you could tell this was something that happened often between the two. 

Steve’s eyes squinted, then so did Cassie’s, and she even tilted her head upwards as if to show him she wasn’t going to back down. Steve’s look then turned pointed, and her jaw tightened, and he raised both brows and then Cassie was letting out a defeated breath. 

“Fine, we’ll use…those dumb cookies,” she said, muttering the last part toward the storebought cookies in the cart. She then turned away to set the cake mix boxes back onto the shelf, still finding it in her to be polite enough to do so. 

Steve turned toward you with a sigh, “Sorry about that.” 

You met his brown eyes then, and shook your head as you said, “Don’t apologize…you know though…if you need help I can help.” 

You made sure to say that low enough so that Cassie couldn’t hear and you noticed Steve’s demeanor grew slightly soft at your offer, his eyes flickering downward for a moment before he pursed his lips together and shook his head. 

“No, no it’s alright,” he replied, resting a hand back on the handle of the shopping cart, “She’ll live, I’ll just make her breakfast for dinner tonight.” 

“Breakfast for dinner?” 

He nodded, “Yeah, baking? No way. And I don’t mean to brag, but I can make a pretty good pancake.” 

That made you smile for some reason, feeling like you were learning more and more about Steve Harrington despite the fact you too only really talked in moments like this where you just so happened to run into each other. 

“I love pancakes,” you said, then felt a little silly even saying that as he didn’t need to know that, but he was smirking softly as he leaned onto the cart slightly and replied to you, “Maybe one day I can make you some.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, the tone he said it in being borderline flirtatious but you didn’t want to look too much into that, rather just laughing and started to step backwards to make your leave so that you could finish finding the right items and he could finish his grocery shopping with Cass. 

“I look forward to whenever that happens then,” you stated, “I’ll let you guys finish your grocery trip…” You gestured to the both of them, but Cassie was suddenly returning to herself. 

“Wait!” she said, “Can I help you find the rest of the stuff? Daddy, can I help her?” 

She asked the both of you at once, hope returning to her eyes, and Steve seemed unsure, not because of you though but in case Cass tried to get you to buy her something because she’s done it before with Mrs. K and Karen Wheeler before, coming back to him with a candy he told her she didn’t need. 

“Uh, I just need to find this cream of tartar, and some apples,” you said as you looked at the cutout quickly. That’s when Cassie suddenly got another idea the moment you said apples. 

“Oh! Does that mean you’re going apple picking?”

You tilted your head at the mention of that…apple picking. It was pretty self-explanatory, but the idea of it had never really crossed your mind. 

“I…no I was just going to buy them here,” you replied to her, not knowing that there was even an apple picking event here in Hawkins anyway. Cassie looked suddenly disgusted, and when you looked at Steve, so did he. You blinked at them, and asked them what was wrong with buying apples here, growing slightly amused again at how their expressions matched exactly. 

“Is there something like…wrong with them here?” you questioned them both. 

“Not exactly, but the apples from the apple farm a town over are way better, trust me,” Steve told you, “They have this apple picking event every fall, you pay for however many baskets you want, and then you…you know pick apples and take them home.” 

“Yeah, we’re going tomorrow!” Cassie cut in again excitedly, before she grabbed her dad’s arm and said, “She can come with us!”

Steve was looking at Cassie again, a slight flush over his cheeks as he told her she had to stop trying to tell people to go places with them without asking them first because she can make someone uncomfortable real quick, and Cassie looked absolutely done with her dad’s attitude in this store. 

Then he turned to you again, brown eyes finding yours as he asked, “Have you been apple-picking before?”

“No,” you replied after giving it little thought, “Not many apple farms in the city, you know, unless you want to drive a couple hours out…store-bought apples were definitely closer and less of a hassle.”

“Ah, right, you’re from the city,” Steve pointed at you, “I mean…if you would like to go with us, or you know just be there at the same time, that’ll be totally okay. Plus, I think it’s an experience everyone should have at least once.”

A small grin was returning to your face, knowing that Steve was inviting you properly for Cass, who looked up at you with wide eyes that matched Steve’s almost identically.

“I…I would actually love to go,” you said genuinely, watching as Steve’s eyes lit up like Cassie’s might, “I mean, you said it’s something I should experience at least once, so…yeah…yeah I’ll go.”

“Great!” Steve blurted out before his cheeks grew flushed, and Cassie was giddy again, “You want to meet there, I can give you the directions?” 

“Yeah, I’ll meet you guys there, just…call me tonight to tell me more details, maybe?” you said, working that in almost professionally. At the mention of calling, Steve’s cheeks became even more flushed because like you when he had seen you he felt guilty that he’d forgotten to call you as well, having been, per usual, very busy with Cass and his three different jobs. 

“Yeah, sure,” he said, and you smiled with a content nod. 

“Good,” you said, “I look forward to it then, I’m gonna go and find that cream of tartar now and I’ll see you two tomorrow?” 

Both of them nodded, and you both said a final see you later before you were stepping backwards, leaving one last longing stare at Steve Harrington before turning around with a large smile on your lips, looking forward to apple picking with the both of them. 

✧ ✧ ✧

The apple orchards were just simply beautiful to you as you sat on the tractor that took you and the other apple pickers in your group around the entire farm before they would stop at the orchards and allow time for you and everyone else to fill up your baskets. 

“We have to get all the red ones,” Cassie Harrington was sitting beside you, the basket she had looked comically big in her lap compared to the same basket that was sitting in yours. 

“There’s a lot of those ones, I don’t think they’re going to run out,” you replied to her as you looked out into the distance at the rows and rows of apple trees. 

It was a nice day, clear skies and a light wind that felt nice against your skin every time a breeze passed by. 

Beside Cassie was Steve, and he wasn’t looking at the orchards like you and Cassie were, but he was looking at… well you. The sun shined down on you in a very specific way, and it made the color of your eyes more visible. His chest sort of tightened and he had to carefully release a soft hitch of his breath. 

He would admit to himself that he had been nervous when he called you the night before, using a quick break in order to do so from the phone in the employee lounge at the market he worked the night shift at. He knew it was late, but he also knew you were expecting that call.

You had sounded very sleepy on the phone, but there wasn’t an ounce of irritation in your voice either which surprised Steve because of the hour, like you were looking forward to the call…like you might’ve been looking forward to a call since you’ve exchanged numbers. He beat himself up for a moment or two, wishing he didn’t do that to you, but knowing that it was really something he couldn’t help. 

“You do this every year?” you asked Cassie, tearing Steve from his thoughts. He looked at his daughter now, her hair in two braids that he had done just before they got on the tractor because she changed her mind about the pony tail and clips she had him style her hair in that morning…clips that were currently in the pocket of his jacket. 

“Only last year,” Cassie replied to you, “My daddy barely discovered it last year through my friend Delilah and her mom.” 

You were nodding along to Cassie, and not in the way people typically nodded along to children when they spoke to them, you actually seemed genuinely interested in holding this conversation with her and it made Steve feel slightly warm. 

“Sounds like it could be a nice tradition though,” you said with a small smile as you looked back to the orchards. Cassie was nodding. 

“Yeah, I like it! The apples are super good, so that means your cookies are going to be super good too!” she claimed, which made you chuckle in response. 

“I hope you’re right, like your dad here, I’m actually not the best baker,” you admitted, your eyes finding Steve’s that were already on yours. He blinked softly, realizing he’s been mentioned as you chuckled again and said, “But I’m willing to try, especially if these are as good as you say they are.” 

“They are,” Cassie said confidently, grasping the basket between her hands just as the tractor came to a stop. Steve knew what she was going to do and caught her hand before she could hop off and start running like it was some kind of competition of who could pick the most apples. 

“Hey! Hey! Let’s help her pick some before you go getting into a fight with another kid for an apple you want,” Steve told her, and she was starting to nod in agreement with him and even apologized before all three of you got off together. 

Cassie held the basket in one hand now while the other was in her dad’s, and you trailed beside them holding your own as you gazed at all the apples, wondering if there was some kind of trick to finding the best ones. 

Some of the trees were taller than the others, so they had ladders, and others were small enough so that a kid like Cassie could pick some of her own as well. You did stay together for the most part, Cassie pointing out apples for you to get, and some for Steve to grab that were too high for her. 

After you had a good few, Steve let Cassie run off to find some of her own, leaving just you and him. You wandered over to one of the trees nobody had been picking at, and before Steve knew it you were suddenly on a ladder. 

He stared up at you, feeling this sudden regretful feeling come over him that he’d been feeling since your teasing comment the day prior about him calling you for details.

“Hey so,” Steve started from below you, “I wanted to apologize for not calling you.” 

You were reaching for a particularly large apple that was further into the tree, your fingers just barely grazing it and you were going to reply to Steve when a dramatic gasp had cut you off. 

“You didn’t call her!?” Cassie called, the gasp coming from her.

Steve looked away from you, and toward Cassie who was standing there with a basket half-full of apples. Steve stared at her for a moment, feeling slightly embarrassed by her blurting that out, others had looked over, but fortunately you seemed more preoccupied with still getting that giant apple off of the tree.

In fact, you grumbled, going up another step on the ladder, while Steve walked over to Cassie. 

“Are these all the apples you got?” Steve asked, and she shrugged as she looked down at them too, and told him that these kids were more mean this year than last year. It made Steve shake his head, and rest his hands on his hips before she asked him if she could sit down and listen to her music. 

“You’re done already?” he questioned, and she nodded. It was just as well, she did have an early morning today like he did so he told her she could sit in the tractor and listen while he filled the rest of the basket up. She grinned and nodded, already putting the walkman headphones over her ears before running toward the tractor. 

“Uh, Steve-” 

He was turning toward you, seeing you on the top of the ladder and he stared for a moment before realizing you were holding onto the actual tree for dear life. 

“Could you hold me steady?” you asked, turning your head to look back at him and Steve was nodding, quickly walking back toward you as he rolled his sleeves up and went behind you. 

“Uh- where do you want me to hold you?” he asked, not wanting to hold you anywhere that might be inappropriate or uncomfortable for you. You told him to just place his hands on the back of your thighs, and he sucked in a breath before nodding. 

He carefully held you still, feeling the denim of your jeans underneath his palms as you were finally steady enough to lean forward and successfully wrap your hands around the apple you really wanted. 

“Got it!” you said, before you started to climb down. Steve helped you do that too until you were on your feet. You got a bit of vertigo though being on the ground again, your head feeling slightly dizzy that if it hadn’t been for Steve grasping your shoulders you might’ve almost embarrassingly lost your balance. 

When you came to, you were met with the concerned face of Steve, his brown eyes flickering over you to see if you were okay. You held up the apple though and said, “I think I like doing this, it’s pretty fun.”

“I can see that, you worked really hard to get that apple,” Steve commented, eying the apple that was a pretty impressive size, “Damn, no wonder you climbed so high to get that one.”

You clicked your tongue, and said, “I’m having a lot of fun, thanks for inviting me.” 

“Yeah, no problem, Cass is really enjoying you being here too, before she ran off is all,” Steve said, turning his head where Cass was sitting on the tractor with the headphones placed over her ears and her head nodding back and forth to whatever song she was jamming to. 

“Also, you don’t have to apologize for not calling, I mean, I didn’t call you either,” you told him, finally responding to his apology that Steve had accepted went unheard when Cassie interrupted. Steve stared at you for a moment, and let out a quiet breath. 

“Still…I don’t know, as the guy I feel like it’s my obligation to call the girl first,” Steve admitted, as in his experience with women in the past it was always him calling first, whether it’s after a date, a good morning call- things he would do before Cassie came into his life and he stopped everything to be the father she deserved. 

“Well, that would make sense if we were romantically involved, which we aren’t…” you said, hearing your own voice grow a little soft at the idea of it. In fact, you kind of batted your eyelashes at Steve, just slightly, and if he noticed, which he did, he didn’t tease you..

“That’s true…but…to be honest, I probably still wouldn’t have,” Steve said, suddenly cringing at his own behavior that he was acutely aware of, but no matter how guilty he might’ve felt he still hadn’t changed it yet. A smile that mirrored his came onto your lips and you laughed quietly. 

“You know, I’ve never really been a high maintenance friend, Steve,” you said, trying that out instead and Steve looked genuinely surprised by the term. It wasn’t like he didn’t have friends, in fact he even had a best friend who wasn’t very high maintenance either since she moved to New York over a year ago, a single phone call every once in a while and visit usually sufficed, but the idea that he found a friend in you, that you even started to consider him as one, made Steve’s brain a little buzzed. 

He guessed he hadn’t made a new friend in a while now, and he was glad that it was you. 

“Huh…I guess we are friends,” Steve said, moreso to himself. Your smile grew wider and you nodded. 

“I would say so,” you replied, then held up your full basket of apples, “And I think that friends should help each other bake cookies for the bake sale on Monday.”

He glanced down at the apples, wondering how you managed to find the biggest ones in the orchard and was impressed all at once. He rested his hands onto his hips, lifting his eyes back up to meet yours and you were giving him an expectant look, like you weren’t going to take no for an answer and Steve honestly liked that. 

Something else brewed up inside of him, something not so warm but rather hot, and he had to cool down by sucking in a tight breath before saying, “Oh, Cass is going to jump for joy.” 

You laughed, that look on your face all but vanishing and being replaced with amusement, and the heat only got stronger. Steve’s eyes lingered onto your lips, longer than the other times he’d been with you, and the foggy part in his brain wondered just what would happen if he just leaned in and kissed you. 

Of course, he wasn’t going to because above all he was still a gentleman and was aware that just because you make a woman laugh doesn’t necessarily mean they want to be snogged, but Steve still wondered how your lips would feel against his. 

It was lucky, then, when Cass was calling out to him and taking his and your attention off of each other before you had more time to notice his slightly heated gaze. His father instinct kicked in almost immediately when he heard Cassie’s cry of distress. 

Steve was turning around, eyes growing concerned and brows pulling inward as his eyes found his daughter dashing toward him with her walkman and headphones in each hand. Tears prickled at the corner of her brown eyes. 

“It’s not playing!” she cried as she got to her dad, “It just stopped! I didn’t do anything!” 

Steve grew slightly relieved that it was just the walkman acting up, as his first thought had been that she was somehow hurt. 

Beside him, you were frowning because of Cassie’s clear distress and sadness over the walkman suddenly breaking on her, as you’ve been there before yourself. She held it up to Steve, her lips quivering and tears fully pouring from her eyes. 

Steve took them from her, eying them for only a moment before sighing, as if he knew one day these things would just break on her. It was an older model, you observed, and Steve all but gave them a quick look over before tossing them into his half full basket of apples on the floor beside his feet and resting his eyes back on his little girl. 

“Hey, don’t cry, alright, these things were old, I’ve had them since I was in high school,” he told Cassie softly. 

“I know, but-but I wanted to listen to music,” Cassie cried, “And now I can’t!”

A sympathetic smile was on Steve’s lips as he knelt down in front of his upset daughter and wiped her tears away with his thumb, “There’s worst things to happen, and these can be replaced, alright?” 

Cassie sniffled, “But how will I listen to my music?”

“Well there’s the radio in the car, the stereo at home…” Steve listed off, “It’ll be okay, I can get you a new one, ones that won’t skip over tracks so that you have to hit it.” 

Cassie’s eyes showed more light in them at the idea of that, “Really?” 

Steve nodded, “Yes, really- but it’s totally okay to cry about it, I think I might cry too. I’ve been through a lot with this guy.” 

Cassie giggled, and Steve’s smile turned warm, happy to make his little girl smile again after mourning the loss of her walkman. Steve kissed her head affectionately and said, “I have good news though, we are going to bake cookies for the bake sale.” 

Her face lit up completely, her cheeks still tear stricken but her eyes were brighter now. 

“We’re going to bake a cake?” Cassie asked, hopeful and Steve winced. 

“No, no! Not a cake, I already told you we don’t have to…I was thinking more like…” Steve looked over at you, and you stared for a second before saying, “Chocolate chip cookies?” 

Steve snapped his finger, “Yeah! We’re going to do that…it’s not a cake, but it’s still baking.” 

Cassie was still excited, nodding up at her dad and saying, “We’re going to bake! Let’s go home and start now!” 

This made Steve laugh, and Cassie was trying to pick up the basket to bring back to the tractor that would take you back to the farm. Meanwhile, Steve looked back at you and you were smiling again, thinking to yourself that no wonder everyone (the mothers of Hawkins really) were so enamored with him. The way he comforted Cass, how soft his voice became…you realized you couldn’t be more attracted to a man.

And now, you are going to have him in your house.

✧ ✧ ✧

Your entire house smelled like a bakery. The smell of cinnamon was strong, mixed with the sweet pleasant scent of chocolate. Music was playing out of the stereo in your living room, music chosen specifically by Cassie Harrington when you told her the day prior that she could listen to anything she decided to bring or anything you had too. 

Steve was standing beside you, wearing a cupcake apron with frills that matched Cassie’s, a pair she chose when she and her dad went to the market the morning of with a list of ingredients you relayed to him over the phone the night before. Your second late night phone call.

Cassie was busy taste testing one cookie from each batch before she’d package them away in these clear bags that had fall leaf designs all over it, complimenting your apple cinnamon cookies after devouring one. She was making you laugh a lot this afternoon, and so was Steve. 

“Okay, okay Cass, you’re going to get a tummy ache,” Steve told his daughter after she ate her fifth chocolate chip cookie. She pouted at him, claiming that she wouldn’t, but Steve wasn’t buying it.

“I’ll set some aside for you, Cassie,” you chimed in as you were grating more apples for yet another batch of your cookies while Steve was stirring chocolate chips into the mixture he was working on in one of your many mixing bowls. 

“But how will we know it’s not poisoned?”

“Cass nobody’s poisoning anything- what- why would you think we’d put poison in these?” Steve asked, practically horrified by his daughter’s choice of words and Cassie sighed and replied, “That’s what Dustin says we have to do! I’m helping!”

Yet again, you were laughing while Steve just stared at his daughter practically dumbfounded before he said, “It’s not poisoned, and I think the mixtape you brought is about to end, so you’ll have to change it.” 

Cassie turned her head, recognizing the final song on it as she listened to it all the time and was going to go change it (or start it over) but not before sneaking another cookie. Steve huffed, turning his attention back to the mixing bowl. 

“So how’s the broken walkman situation?” you asked Steve suddenly. He let out a deep sigh, as if hating to be reminded of that, “Sorry for bringing it up.”

“No, no- I was honestly waiting for them to just break, I was just hoping it would be closer to Christmas,” he said, wiping his face with the hand that was covered in flour. You glanced at Steve, your eyes instantly going to the flour that was suddenly decorating his cheek. He didn’t seem to notice, too focused on getting the right consistency of the cookie dough…in fact he was actually covered with various stains, on his forehead, his arms, and his neck. Your eyes lingered there for a bit before you forced your eyes back to what you were doing. 

“No back ups? I remember having a back up,” you joked. 

“That was the back-up,” he replied quickly, “It’s alright- she’ll be fine until Christmas…hopefully, honestly I might have to see if Mrs. K has one. Sometimes she has random things for Cass.”

You tilted your head gently, and asked him who Mrs. K was, as you feel like he had mentioned her before. Steve was quiet for a second, as if confused you didn’t know who she was until he remembered you barely moved here in the summer.

“Oh she’s my neighbor, nice older woman, probably the nicest person in this town really, she gives me and Cassie a lot of things like vegetables from her garden, or random casseroles and sometimes just these bulks of snacks.” 

You hummed with interest, thinking that to be kind of sweet. As Steve began to mess with the finished dough, he laughed and continued to say, “It’s kind of nice honestly, because my parents moved out of this place years ago, like maybe a year after Cass was born and I barely hear from them- so it’s almost like she’s Cassie’s unofficial grandparent.” 

Though you didn’t know much about Steve yet, you thought it was safe to assume that Steve shared no relationship to his parents, and you didn’t know what to say about it, feeling like if you asked anything he’d tell you to leave it alone.

“I used to have someone like that,” you said rather than that, making Steve look back at you. Now you were the one looking away, too focused on finishing the next and final batch of cookies, “My fifth grade teacher, and probably the only person I think my dad might’ve dated.” 

It was odd bringing that up, but like Steve had done with you, you were word vomiting too and immediately felt embarrassed. Steve didn’t seem to think so though, instead asking you to tell him more about it. 

“She was just super nice, and I could tell he liked her a lot,” you said vaguely, feeling slightly uncomfortable talking about your dad because it had been a while since you’ve talked to someone about him, considering he was the only family you had left before his passing, “The point is, it’s good to have people willing to help like that.” You chuckled then smiled weakly.

To be honest, you hadn’t thought of your dad since you moved here, not as often as you would’ve liked… you hadn't even got around to putting photos of you and him around the house. A part of you felt…sad that you hadn’t, like you didn’t know if you were mourning him enough anymore. Steve had noticed your expression turn grim, how the smile that followed your soft chuckle suddenly turned into a frown. 

“I didn’t mean to pry, I’m sorry,” Steve said, realizing that it was a touchy subject for you. You quickly shook your head. 

“No, no it’s alright, it’s been a while…I mean the grief doesn’t really go away, but…I just hadn’t talked about him with anyone in a long time,” you admitted to Steve.

“I mean, I really like talking to you, about anything so if you’d like to talk about him, or anything else again…well you have my number.” 

You looked at Steve again, feeling touched by his statement, forgetting that you probably weren’t going to see him for a few weeks following this unless things changed in his schedule, but the gesture felt nice. You nodded softly at him, and said almost breathlessly “Okay.” 

Steve winked at you before he turned his attention back on his dough, then he grabbed a separate spoon and brought it up to his lips to taste before asking you, “Is this good? It looks good, it tastes good, but is it good?”

The spoon he was holding was turned to you, wanting you to validate it before rolling them into balls and putting them in the oven.

You didn’t mind, really, parting your lips and taking a bite of the dough off of the spoon he held. He stared at you, brown eyes resting onto your lips for a few seconds too long before lifting them to meet your eyes. You hummed at the sweet taste flooding your mouth, and nodded, “You’re kind of a natural at baking, you know that?” 

A grin spread across his lips, “You’re just saying that, it’s not as good as yours. Mine’s just basic chocolate chip, anyone can make it.” 

“Making bad chocolate chip cookies are possible- and you managed to make really good ones on the first try, I’m pretty impressed,” you said, half paying attention to the sound of Cassie diving through your various cassette tapes, something you said she could do if she wanted. You never really listened to music anymore, unless you were cleaning. 

You could feel Steve’s eyes still on you, seeing him in your peripherals and pretending you couldn’t, even as your cheeks started to heat up and you said randomly, “I kind of wish we went with M&M cookies for you…same concept…more colorful and exciting.” 

Steve paused, “Are those your favorite or something?”

“Oh yeah, something about them really hits the spot,” you joked. Steve half-grinned, as if he learned something even more interesting about you and he glanced at it before he took a double take. 

“Wait, look at me real quick,” Steve told you, and you did, seeing his eyes zero in on your cheek before he pointed and said, “You got a little something right there.” 

You blinked, and he laughed as he grabbed one of the clean dish towels to wipe whatever it was off of your cheek. Your body burst with warmth when he held the fabric to your left cheek. You also felt bad because he was covered in flour head to toe and you didn’t tell him even once. He’d have to take a shower to get it all off probably, but this didn’t change the fact that he was practically holding your face in his large hand.

Heat plummeted throughout you, and you found that you didn’t want to move away, and maybe he didn’t either, as even after he successfully wiped your cheek he didn’t move away. No, he stayed this close to you, so close that your nose caught a whiff of his suddenly familiar cologne that had been masked by the smell of cookies after a while. It was enough to make your mind fog up, just a little, and your breath hitched softly…something that Steve caught.

“Are you okay?” Steve asked you, a teasing element lingering underneath his tone. His eyes lifted to meet yours, and you swallowed thickly, unsure what was going on, and your nerves made you say, “You got something too…uh…well everywhere.”

Steve’s eyes furrowed as your eyes flickered at his entire face, breaking whatever trance he’d entered, and you could see his cheeks turn a little pink underneath the flour. God, did you want him to break out of it? Because he was moving away from you then, and you felt slight disappointment…wondering if something would’ve happened if you didn’t say anything. 

“Everywhere? How?” Steve asked you, now bringing the towel to his face. You gestured to his cheek, then his neck, and his arms and his eyes grew wide. Just then Abba’s “Mamma Mia” started to blast through the speakers, and Cassie was back in the kitchen and wiping her brow like finding the right cassette really tired her out. 

“Okay! I’m back to try more cookies,” she announced. You laughed quietly, and told Steve where the bathroom was before turning to Cass and telling her, “After this final batch you can test one, but first put on some gloves and help me roll the dough into the sugar.” 

Steve was just about to go to the restroom to clean up a bit, but found himself taking a bit of a moment to take in the sight before him. Cassie was now sitting on the stool on her knees right beside you, too big of plastic gloves on her smaller hands, watching you roll the dough into the sugar, then doing one of her own. 

Something swelled up into his chest, something he didn’t quite understand, but he did recognize the warm feeling of happiness seeing Cass with you. There was just something about it, Steve thought, that made a soft grin grow onto his lips…especially when you praised Cassie when she showed you the little ball of dough covered in sugar and cinnamon. 

It was Cassie’s bright smile too that made Steve think for a moment…where did you come from and how come you’re barely in his life now?

✧ ✧ ✧

“Enjoy!” you stated happily as you handed over what felt like the 100th bag of cookies from the faculty’s booth. The woman grinned at you before she handed the cookies to her son and began to take off, giving you time to add more bags of cookies onto the table. 

Beside you, Heidi was counting the money you made so far and placing the bills into a tin box. 

“These cookies are a hit, I’m glad you went with them- they’re super good too,” Heidi said as she picked up her half eaten cookie and shoved the rest into her mouth, “Yup, delicious. You have to make these for the Holiday office Christmas Party in December, god I think I’ll pay you.” 

That made you chuckle as you went around to fix the sign the other members had worked all weekend on that said ‘Front Office’ and had poorly drawn cookies all over it. 

As you did so, there was suddenly a burst of laughter from behind you. You lifted your head up, turning your head toward one of the booths that was across from yours, but more down the line. Women and their kids all surrounded this one table, so much that you were unable to see who’s table it was…that’s if you didn’t know because he’d been here early to set up along with you and others. 

Heidi leaned over the cookies, having heard the commotion too and she laughed out loud, “So, Steve Harrington baking was all it took to take that baker down a notch.” 

She was looking over at the other booth, the town’s baker having only a handful of customers while Steve’s booth was surrounded by a crowd who might as well been waving cash over their heads. It was almost comedic how the simple fact that Steve Harrington baked cookies rather than brought store bought ones caused such a commotion. 

He was standing behind the table handing out the bags of chocolate chip cookies while Cassie was sitting on a clear space on the table taking the cash with the help of one of the other parents working the booth. They were both wearing the matching cupcake aprons again, something that did not go unnoticed by the mom’s either. 

“These are absolutely fabulous, Steve,” you heard one of them compliment him, “It makes me wonder what other skills you’re hiding from us.” There was a giggle after that almost resembled one of a high school girl talking to the football captain and you were sure you could hear the eye roll of the woman’s husband somewhere around here. You laughed while shaking your head and fixed some of the cookie bags to look more presentable before placing more smaller samples onto the tray. 

At the booth, Steve was slightly overwhelmed but Cass was doing a good job keeping everyone at bay. 

“There’s a line!” she told the crowd, “One at a time please!”

Compliments continued to be thrown Steve’s way, and with flushed cheeks he was thanking them and being professional and handing them their bags when a woman asked him for the recipe. Steve looked up at her, and laughed nervously, “Well it’s not my recipe- I had a little- well a lot of help from a friend.” 

“A friend you say? I’d love to meet them and get the recipe then,” she said cheekily before she took the bags from him and moved on. Steve smiled at the next customer, but behind them was a parting of the crowd finally and Steve’s eyes caught you in front of your booth. 

You were holding the tray of apple cinnamon cookies, one of the husband’s of one of the women over here standing beside you as he tried one. He said something to you after, making you grin up at him in a friendly manner and Steve realized he hadn’t listened to a word the lady in front of him said. 

“Daddy! She said she wanted 2 bags!” Cassie tore him from his eyes on you just as your eyes found Steve’s. He cleared his throat lightly, smiling at the woman and grabbing two bags of cookies and holding it out for her. 

She thanked him, and Steve’s eyes found yours again, finding that you were looking at him already. You waved at him, and Steve smiled softly and waved back at you. 

From where you stood, Heidi had caught the small interaction between you and Steve, raising both of her brows with interest. Her eyes rested onto your face, recognizing the expression of warmth written all over your features, right down to your wide smile and eyes that seemed to have lit up. 

She leaned on the table, and hummed with pure interest. 

“So…you and Steve?” Heidi asked, and to you this question had seemingly come out of nowhere as you returned to the seat beside her in the shade. Though it was a cool autumn day, it was still pretty hot when you stood directly in the sun like you just were. 

“What about Steve?” you questioned her as you settled into your chair, Heidi shrugged. 

“Are you and him…getting to know each other more?” she asked you another question, and by now you were used to this, used to Heidi not getting to the point of something and speaking to you like everything that you talked about was gossip or something. You just stared at her, watching her eyebrows wiggle suggestively. 

“Heidi, please, we’re both adults here,” you said, wanting to beg her to stop talking like this and she could only giggle like a high schooler. 

“Oh come on, you can tell me.” 

“There’s nothing to tell,” you said, and Heidi sighed at your stubbornness to admit anything. You chalked it up to maybe this town was so small that any gossip was the holy grail to her, or maybe the odd obsession every married woman seemed to have with Steve Harrington. It could be either, honestly. 

Still, you knew you were lying because maybe there was something to tell because afterall you don’t think anyone’s ever looked at you like he did, if anyone’s ever made you laugh and smile so much. The thought of Steve made your stomach twist pleasantly, and your chest to warm up like your oven when you helped each other bake all of those cookies the mom’s were currently salivating over. 

Jokingly, you told yourself that if you looked at him and he was already looking at you, maybe there was something there, something that would be worth telling somebody else about. 

And when you snuck a glance, you were pleased to see that he was. Heat raised to your cheeks, and you allowed yourself this small moment of vindication, as silly as it sounded. 

“I’ll be damned,” Mrs. Abi’s voice broke you from your moment of warmth and you looked up to see her standing there with her arms resting on her waist as she stared at the crowd Steve’s booth brewed up, “I think we’ll all be getting raises next year, and all we had to do was get Mr. Harrington to bake a couple of cookies.” 

The joke made the other faculty at your booth including Heidi laugh, and another office member, who you distinctly remembered seeing go over once or twice, stated, “He had a lot of help I hear from somebody.” 

“Well, whoever convinced him and helped out- I’m grateful because look at this crowd,” Mrs. Abi said, still entirely impressed by how something as simple as Hawkins’ favorite Dad baking chocolate chip cookies could ring up this much business. 

You elected to stay quiet, dropping your eyes to the cookies before you as Mrs. Abi continued to admire the amount of people here. Still, you smiled to yourself, knowing that it was you and liking that you were the only one who knew, like those moments with Steve and Cassie were yours to keep and only yours. It made you feel special, in a way. 

Suddenly, somebody was tapping your arm. It captured your attention, and everyone else sitting at the booth’s attention. Everyone was pleasantly surprised to see it was Cassie Harrington, well mostly everyone as Cassie would visit you on occasion to give you part of her lunch. 

She held out a bag of cookies to you, and said, “My daddy said to give you these. They’re for you and you only!” 

You blinked, and took the bag of cookies from her. Cassie didn’t give you a moment to respond, flashing you a bright smile before she was turning and pushing her way through the crowd. You looked at the bag of brightly colored cookies.

There was a little note attached to the tie around the bag of cookies, different from the rest of the bags, in fact they were different from the cookies you spent hours helping him bake entirely. 

‘Thanks for the help. You deserve these :) - Steve’

The bag was filled with smaller, homemade M&M cookies, the colors of the candy vibrant against the cookie part. Did he seriously make these cookies for you? When did he have the time to do so? Did he make time? So many questions rang through your head and you had forgotten that you weren’t alone. 

In fact, the entire faculty, Mrs. Abi included, was just staring at you as you gawked at the bag of cookies Cassie had just given you in front of everyone. It seemed they had gotten their answer as to who helped Steve bake all those cookies. 

“Nothing to tell,” Heidi muttered beside you, repeating your words from before. You cleared your throat, and placed the cookies inside of your purse that was underneath your chair, trying not to let them see how the gesture was affecting you further.

And later, when you would take a bite out of one of the cookies, your thoughts were filled with Steve Harrington until you would go to bed that night and even then, he still plagued you in your dreams. You weren’t complaining though…not one bit. 

✧ ✧ ✧

If Steve was anything, it was self aware. He knew he wasn’t the most punctual when it came to any relationships outside of the one he had with his daughter, but with Halloween and then Cassie suddenly getting the flu, life had just been a hassle. 

He’d been meaning to call you again, or maybe visit you in the office (except he thought that would be odd if he didn’t have an excuse to be there other than he just wanted to see you) to ask if you enjoyed those cookies he and Cass had baked for you but then he also got sick while taking care of Cass. 

He wasn’t a six year old though, so he managed better than she did, but it did take him out for a day or so. When he thought about you, he tried to remind himself of your declaration that you weren’t a high maintenance friend, basically that you understand him vanishing for weeks on end, but that didn’t change the fact that he did feel bad that after basically a whole weekend spent together he kind of just vanished and relied on Cassie to stay interacting with you. 

The doctor’s note in his pocket came at a good moment, one that he had to deliver to the office himself so that her past few absences would be excused, and he thought that maybe you’d be keen on having some lunch with him today. 

Although, when he entered the school’s front office he was met with an empty desk. 

His eyes danced around the office, disappointment brewing in his chest that maybe you were out sick too or something until he heard you say his name. He snapped his head to the side, seeing that you were actually next to him, he just hadn’t seen you. 

“Oh, god I didn’t even see you,” Steve said, feeling stupid for not, but you just laughed and waved him off because it really wasn’t a big deal, “I have a doctor’s note for Cassie.” 

Steve dug his hand into the pocket of the sweats he was wearing, and scowled when he couldn’t find it, now afraid it had slipped out of his pocket outside on this very windy day, “Shit, I thought I did. Give me a second.” 

He wasn’t looking at you, but if he had he would’ve definitely noticed your suddenly flustered expression, and how you were desperately trying to keep your eyes anywhere but on his lower half. He dug his hands into the other pocket, pleased to feel the paper there instead. 

“Ah, there you are,” Steve muttered to himself, something Max might’ve said was very ‘dad’ of him to say. He held it out for you to take, and you did, walking over to your desk while Steve finally noticed that you were actually decorating the front part of the office with autumn leaves. 

Various colored leaves decorated the wall, meant to look like they were being blown in the wind, but there was a lot more on the floor. He wasn’t sure if that was part of the decor, not until he noticed there were a few pieces of tape missing leaves. 

“Oh,” Steve said, bending over to pick them up. He started to stick them to the wall for you without really thinking, but then the door was being opened again, causing a breeze to fly in so all the ones he had just stuck on had fallen again. 

He realized then that probably happened to you when he walked in, and he cringed, feeling bad about that. He looked over at you when he heard you ask the person, another parent, who had just walked in what you could help them with. Your eyes glanced over at Steve and he waved a leaf at you, catching the amusement to flash over your eyes as you looked back at the parent. 

“I unfortunately don’t have a copy of the permission slip, but they are going to be sent home with the students today…if not come back and I will be sure to have extra copies…” 

Your voice trailed off as you returned to typing on your computer, surely trying to continue inputting Cassie’s doctor’s note into the system. Meanwhile, Steve just waited and watched you, slightly intrigued with you working and realizing that you were just very busy too. 

After a moment, the parent had turned to leave, smiling at Steve as they pushed through the door, the wind causing more leaves to fall off the wall. Steve picked those up too, and when he turned back to you, he saw you were smiling with your eyes on the computer screen. 

“Are the fifth graders going to that museum out of town already?” Steve asked, having practically memorized the schedule they had all been handed at Back to School Night, the one with all the events on it (and your number) despite him needing only to worry about first grade events. He honestly couldn’t wait until Cass’s first field trip in the spring because he was going to be a chaperone. It would be her first field trip too.

“Yeah, at the end of the week,” you replied to him, eyes moving to the doctor’s note, “You don’t have to pick those up by the way…they keep falling anyways.”

He looked down at the leaves, then said, “Well I mean, leaves do tend to fall in fall.” He walked over to you, placing them onto the front of your desk as you continued to type away on the computer and you laughed lightly at his lame joke as you pressed enter on the keyboard with a loud clack!

“Alright, Cassie’s absences have been excused, is there anything else I could help you with, Steve?” you asked, finally looking at him. Steve thought, then shook his head. 

“Nope, well…I don’t need help, just have another question.” You tilted your head at him, urging him to ask you what he wanted, and he said with a soft clearing of throat, “Did you go to lunch already?” 

You seemed genuinely surprised by that question, eyes flashing to the clock on your desk before looking back at him and replying in a suddenly quiet voice, “Not yet, in about 20 minutes actually…why?” 

Steve leaned both hands on your desk, getting slightly closer to you, “Well I haven’t had lunch yet, Cass is still sick and Karen agreed to watch her while I run some errands, so…” he knocked on the wooden surface of your desk, almost nervously before he said, “Want to go get something to eat?” 

You said yes quite fast. 

That’s how Steve found himself with you in his car, meals done and low music playing on the radio as you two well…you just talked. 

You had asked him about Cassie, he told you she was doing much better, and then he was telling you about how his Halloween was. 

Cassie had decided, very last minute, that instead of being a regular fairy she wanted to actually be Tinkerbell. It wouldn’t have been a serious problem if the dress he got her was already green (it was blue), so he had to spend one of his entire lunch breaks finding a dress before he had to end up making it himself with a bunch of material from the only fabric store in Hawkins. 

“Wait a minute…you made her costume?” 

You were shocked, Steve could tell by the way you said it and stared at him with wide eyes and he felt a little embarrassed, “Yeah, took me two whole days. It was bad huh, you can be honest, Cass said she loved it, but I think she was just being nice- she doesn’t want to break her dad's heart.”

“Steve, she talked my ear off about how much she loved her costume,” you told him, genuine surprise still written all over your face, “Every time I learn something more about you the more I like you.” 

Your words made Steve pause for a second, and he turned his head over to you, watching as you took a sip of soda then grinned at him. 

Steve half-smiled at you as he moved to take a sip of his drink as well, “Did you not like me before or something? I really thought we had something with the apple picking, the baking…I even made you cookies, which…were they any good?” 

“Oh the cookies,” you said, your hand flying over your chest as you sighed, “They were delicious, thank you for that.” 

Steve smiled and nodded at you, and you added, “And I liked you before, just…now I like you more. You bake and you sew, and you love your daughter so much. What’s not to like?” 

You were looking at him softly, and Steve felt a bit flustered underneath your gaze. It didn’t feel like when the other women in town would compliment or praise him for what he thought was the bare minimum, where he felt as if they were nothing but empty praise. No, yours felt genuine.

“Well…I didn’t really bake until I met you, so…feel free to take credit for that quality,” he said, jokingly and you chuckled, “And I’m glad somebody thinks me being able to sew is good. Remember those kids I told you about? They break my leg about it all the time, especially Henderson.” 

“Really?” 

“Yeah, like me sewing is weirder than him building a whole radio when he was 13.”

“Wait he built a whole radio? Huh…”

Steve nodded, “Still shows off about it too, he told me one time what spectacular thing I did when I was 13 and I couldn’t say because I was already getting dates at that age.” 

His statement, as ridiculous and silly as it was, made you almost choke on what was left of your drink. He turned quickly to you as you coughed, and was worried until he heard cackling coming from you and saw your pretty smile again. 

You shifted in your spot, coughing lightly a few more times before you said, “And you’re funny? God, Steve.” 

His cheeks turned a slight pink, proud that he had made you laugh, but concerned with the fact that you had choked on your drink because of it. 

“Everyone except you and Cass would disagree with that statement, but it’s nice to hear every once in a while…” especially if it was the pretty city girl Steve was growing very fond of calling him funny, he didn’t say that part out loud though. Nope, that felt too forward in a lunch between friends even though it was incredibly true. 

Steve stayed staring at you, before he asked what it was that you did at 13, because he realized he’d been talking about himself the entire time and he wanted to know more about you, of course, having really gotten a few glimpses into your life. You hummed in thought. 

“I wasn’t building radios, definitely not getting dates like you Mr. Popular,” you teased, then continued to think with your face scrunched up before you hummed again, and finally said, “I was really big on roller disco.” 

“Wait…wait seriously?” 

Out of all the things Steve might’ve thought, you liking roller disco had not been one of them, and he found it cute the way you became flustered now as you nodded slowly. 

“Yeah, well…just disco in general, I was home alone a lot with nothing to do so I just learned a lot dance moves, and the roller rink was down the block, I was really good…god I can’t believe I’m admitting this to somebody,” you said, clearly embarrassed but Steve didn’t think it was something you should be embarrassed about and felt bad if he was making you think he was judging you in any way. 

“That’s pretty…I honestly would’ve never guessed it,” Steve decided on saying, before he thought of something, “Now that I think of it…Cassie’s music taste has been a bit disco-y lately ever since we were at your place baking…”

This made you laugh in disbelief.

“No way,” you said with a shake of your head and Steve nodded, “That’s funny, I’m a little less embarrassed now.”

“Yeah…god now I know who the culprit is,” he laughed, “Don’t be embarrassed…though how long was that your interest though? I just want to know, I’ve never met a disco dancer before.” He grinned cheekily at the title he’d given and you scoffed, though your eyes held warmth in them still.

“Oh the interest definitely went past 13, up until my college years really, I was in a club and everything, it was really the only fun thing I did.” 

Steve laughed with the shake of his head, still shocked by this information. So, you were a disco girl…he stupidly wondered if you two might’ve been friends if you knew each other in High School, but he quickly shut that down, remembering how he actually was in high school and knew you wouldn’t be friends with him most likely.

What mattered really was that he knew you now, and you knew him now, and like what you had told him…the more he was getting to know you really, the more he was liking you…or maybe it was something deeper with how his stomach churned pleasantly being in this car with you on this windy, fall afternoon just talking, making you laugh joyfully…he remembered having a lot of dates that went exactly like this back in High School, though it would be night time or you both would’ve been half way to Skull Rock by now. 

Still, it felt nice sitting here with you, it felt nice when you were with him and Cass apple-picking too, and at your place as well, baking cookies and enjoying each other’s company. 

All good things must come to an end though, and Steve hated how time flew by when you were having a good time, but you had to get back to work and Steve had to grocery shop for the week then go pick up Cassie from Karen Wheeler’s house. You still talked though as he drove you back to the school, your elbow leaning on the car’s door, hand resting above your head as you spoke and laughed. 

He stopped the car in front of the office, and you thanked him for a fun lunch, and Steve’s eyes had caught the post for the food pantry event the Hawkins School District were holding for Thanksgiving the following week. His eyes rested on the poorly drawn turkey and an idea flashed in his mind. 

“Hey, sorry, one last question,” Steve called to you before you could climb fully out of his car. You turned to him with a curious look, and he said, “What are you doing for Thanksgiving this year?”

“Nothing, I don’t really celebrate it,” you told him that pretty fast, indicating that someone has probably asked you before and that was how you answered.

Steve began to absent-mindly run his hands over the steering wheel, deciding just to ask you if you wanted to join him and Cassie. 

“If you’re up for it, me and Cass join the Henderson family. It’s just…them too, Dustin and his mom. I know she’ll enjoy having an extra person there.” 

You were quiet for a bit, eyes moving to his moving hands, and Steve was about to tell you that you didn’t have to if you didn’t want to, but you were speaking before he could even open his mouth. 

“That sounds fun actually…I guess that means I’m going to meet the little genius who built a whole radio at 13,” you said, referring to the prior conversation. Steve was grinning now, relieved and happy that you said yes and he chuckled and replied, “Yeah, honestly, I think you’d like him. He’s a cool kid.” 

“Alright, guess I’ll be seeing you sooner than I thought,” you said cheekily, and Steve scoffed at you but smiled afterwards. 

With a promise to call you sometime before then to give you the address, Steve was off to the market with butterflies fluttering in his stomach the entire time and when he ran into some familiar faces, they wondered what had him so joyful.

✧ ✧ ✧

You had made the joke to yourself that you felt like Steve when he tried to bring store bought cookies to the bakesale before you got your hands on him and convinced him to let you help him bake. The reason for this was because you had run out of time to make anything, but didn’t want to show up empty handed so you bought a pumpkin pie, and then a cheese tray and showed up just on time at the Henderson home; nothing homemade like you initially wanted but truth be told you didn’t really know how to make any traditional Thanksgiving supper.

They were already there, Steve’s car parked in front of yours, and the door was open, so you poked your head inside, looking around for anyone familiar…basically just Steve and Cassie, but instead you had been met with a young couple sitting on the couch. The girl was shorter, dark hair pulled back in a low ponytail with wispy bangs framing her face, and the boy, well you could only see his curly hair since his back was to you as they seemed to be in the middle of a conversation. 

“Oh Dusty Bun, latin has never been your strong suit and it’s okay to admit it,” the girl told the boy, and he huffed in response, “A genius can’t be good at everything.” 

“That’s not true,” ‘Dusty-bun’ replied to her, “You’re good at everything.” 

And she smiled, clearly keen on the compliment. You entered the house a little more, ready to announce your arrival when the girl saw you first. Your eyes locked with each other’s and she blinked a few times before saying, “Oh, hi?”

The boy snapped his head around quickly, blue eyes finding yours instantly, and when he didn’t recognize you in the span of a second he was saying, “Uh, sorry, I think you’re at the wrong house.”

You furrowed your brows, knowing for sure that wasn’t true because you recognized Steve’s car, and you said, assuming Dusty Bun was a nickname for Dustin, “Oh, I don’t think I am, you’re Dustin Henderson, right?” 

He nodded at you, and you told him your name and ended with, “Steve invited me, he probably just forgot to tell you.”

This seemed to genuinely surprise Dustin, both of his eyebrows raising in disbelief as he looked at you, and then all he could say was, “Wait- wait- are you telling me Steve invited you?” 

“Hey, don’t be rude,” the girl said, slightly tapping Dustin’s arm but he shrugged her off as he said he wasn’t being rude before he said, “I’m just surprised! Steve invited a girl to have dinner with us, is that not insane to you?” 

The girl opened her mouth to say something, maybe along the lines of trying to defend Steve before it went slack, and she replied, “...I admit it is a little surprising considering…well you know.” 

You stared at them, wondering what that even meant but decided not to question that in favor of asking awkwardly if they could just find Steve for you and tell him you’ve arrived. Dustin gave you another nod, and you expected him to get up rather than just turning his head and shouting the last thing you expected for him to shout,  “Hey Steve! Your girlfriend’s here! Why didn’t you tell me you had one!”

Following Dustin’s yell there was a crash from a room to the right of you, then a feminine shout of surprise followed by the familiar voice of Steve saying, “My bad! I’ll clean that up- don’t worry-” And then, Steve was in the room. He was wearing a nice polo shirt that was tight around his arms, and chest, over that was the same cupcake apron that matched Cassie’s. You supposed he was getting a lot of use out of it since buying it. 

There was also pink dusted on his cheeks as he told Dustin, “I can’t believe you just shouted that- she’s not my girlfriend, Henderson. Way to make it awkward- and hi, you’re here.” He was looking at you when he said that, his pretty brown eyes resting on you, and a smile, more shy than usual because of Dustin’s assumption, tugging at his lips. 

“You said 4,” you told Steve, a smile crawling its way onto your lips too. You stayed smiling at each other for a beat or two before you lifted the items you bought and asked, “So, where can I put these?” 

Steve waved you over toward him, “Right this way actually here-” He held his hands out, taking the pumpkin pie and cheese platter off of your hands, and you felt his fingers lightly drag against yours. He was really warm, which made sense as the kitchen you followed him into was drastically warmer than the living space and the colder fall temperature outside. 

“Sorry about Dustin, I hope he didn't make you uncomfortable,” Steve said, apologizing on his behalf but you could only wave that off with a shake of your head. 

“In his shoes, I’d probably think so too,” you admitted before you laughed nervously, afraid that had come off weird, but Steve let out a breathless laugh then nodded in agreement with you. 

There was a woman in the kitchen, Claudia Henderson you presumed, and she was wiping down whatever Steve had dropped. His face fell and he said, “You didn’t have to do that-” 

“It’s no problem, Steve! It wasn’t that bad of a spill,” she told him as she tossed the paper towel pieces she used into the trash, and Steve looked like he was going to say something else when her eyes landed on you and she was saying, “Is this her, Steve? Wow, aren’t you the pretty one?” 

You felt your cheek heats up, not expecting the compliment, and Steve’s eyes widened as she continued to say, “I’m so glad he’s finally found someone else, you know it was so hard-” 

“Wait, no it’s not-” 

“I’m just his friend,” you cut Steve off, Claudia paused before her expression turned shocked and then regretful. Her hands even flew over her mouth like she’d just cursed at you in an accident or something.  

“Oh, oh I’m sorry, I just assumed when he told me he was inviting a woman over that meant-” she gestured between you two before she laughed nervously, “Either way, I’m glad he’s invited a friend, thank you for joining us.” 

Her smile was kind, and despite the confusion from everyone you’ve encountered so far, you felt at ease standing in this pleasant smelling kitchen, and you said, “No thank you for having me! Now that I’m here, is there anything I can do to help?” 

Your eyes danced around the kitchen now, having never seen a kitchen so full with food before and you felt something odd in your chest, something you couldn’t quite describe, but Claudia’s claim that you didn’t have to make you ignore it and set it aside. 

“I pulled a Steve and brought only store bought items, please let me at least do something,” you said, poking at Steve and he huffed beside you. 

“Hey, you say that like there’s something wrong with that,” Steve said as he placed the pumpkin pie on what looked like the dessert portion of the kitchen counter, and placed the cheese platter onto a table with other appetizers to snack on before dinner. 

He was actually opening it before throwing a cube of cheddar cheddar and a ritz cracker into his mouth. 

Claudia had laughed at you both before saying that if you weren’t going to take no for an answer you could help prepare the ham. Your eyes landed on the thick piece of ham resting in a pan as you shrugged off the coat you were wearing to reveal a nice burgundy turtleneck underneath.

That feeling started to linger over you again as you realized you didn’t know what to even start with, having never prepared or baked a ham before- not even on Christmas when it appeared to be the most popular. Claudia didn’t seem to take notice of your sudden hesitation, but Steve did. 

He was back beside you and he said, “I’ll help, she’s taught me everything I know.” 

Claudia hummed, as if proud of her teaching Steve how to prepare a ham, and you gave him a curt nod before you went to wash your hands and Steve grabbed the things from a bag he must’ve brought of the things he would need. 

As you started to pour pineapple juice into a measuring cup per Steve’s orders, you suddenly realized there was somebody missing, a vital person, and you said, “Wait a minute- where’s Cassie?” 

Like you managed to summon the girl with the utter of her name, Dustin was entering the kitchen holding Cassie and grunting as he claimed she was heavy. He didn’t put her down though, not when she was very clearly half-awake, her eyes squinted and various strands poking out of her french-braided hair. 

She still managed to ask, “Is the food ready, yet?” 

Steve was walking toward Dustin, taking her from him, and as he pushed a few strands of her hair out of her face he said, “Not yet, sleepyhead, in about an hour, but look who’s here.” 

He turned around, and Cassie looked very closely at everyone in the room before she finally realized there was an extra person. Her being on the verge of falling asleep had vanished the moment she saw you, and you waved both hands at her eagerly. 

“I was waiting for you! I thought my daddy lied about you coming!” Cassie said, quite loudly. You laughed, head tilting back slightly. 

“Why do you keep thinking that I’m lying? I never lie to you,” Steve said with a shake of his head, and Cassie turned to look at her dad as he placed her hair behind her ear. 

“You said the food will be ready when I wake up, but it’s not,” she stated. 

“Ha!” Dustin laughed from where he stood next to the cheese platter you had brought, placing pieces of it onto a decorative plastic plate, “She got you there.” 

Steve gave him a look, but sighed as he said, “Yeah she did…how about you go and play with Dustin and Suzy and then it’ll be done.” 

“Oh yeah, I forgot I wanted to give her a lot of my old edition D&D books, and other old toys,” Dustin said, turning around to look at Steve and Cassie.

“Dude, come on…” 

“What? They’re Steve of Approved, plus if I start teaching her now, she’ll definitely keep the Hellfire Club going when she gets to high school, and that’s important,” Dustin said, clearly having a plan, and Steve could only shake his head as Cassie seemed excited about the word Hellfire and club. 

“Hellfire Club?” you asked, and all eyes turned to you. 

“Oh, it’s a Dungeon and Dragons club, do you play?” Dustin asked you, and you shook your head. 

“No, but…I’ve always wanted to, just never got the chance,” you admitted, remembering there being a club like when you were in high school too and wondering how one might play the roleplaying game, “It looks fun though, I’d like to learn one day.”

Dustin snapped his fingers, “See, that already makes you cooler than Steve” 

“Am I just going to be made fun of the entire time? Well yeah, that’s how I know it’s Thanksgiving,” Steve answered his own question with a scoff, making you smile sheepishly at him until he was smiling again as he said, “I’ve played a few times, not really my thing, but…I mean if you want to play I know a guy who could teach you. He’s a bit insane, but if I’m there you’ll be fine.” 

“Oh so you’re ‘not girlfriend’ is interested in playing and suddenly you’re willing to hang out with Eddie and playing too?” 

Dustin was giving Steve a knowing look, one of which had you suppressing a grin, especially when you saw Steve’s eyes get wide with shock that he’d say. He was probably regretting inviting you now.

“How is Eddie anyway? I haven’t seen him around in a while,” Claudia chimed in before Steve could properly respond and Dustin replied, “He’s always out of town lately, I know because I called before I even got here to see if he wanted to start planning a campaign for us to play.” 

Claudia hummed in response, and you watched Steve give Dustin a look, one of which Dustin shrugged at him before smiling menacingly. 

“Come on, Cass, let’s go,” Dustin said, and Steve placed Cassie down. She eagerly followed after Dustin, waving a good-bye to you before disappearing back into the living room. 

Steve was back by your side, helping you with the ham again and he muttered, “Sorry again.” 

In all honesty you weren’t bothered by the comments, Steve actually seemed more bothered than you were, his cheeks haven’t stopped being flushed since they started. You gently grasped his forearm, making him look at you. 

“Stop apologizing, I can handle being mistaken for your girlfriend,” you said teasingly, to which Steve turned even more pink, “Plus, I’m having a good time, so let’s finish this ham before Cass comes back asking why it isn’t ready yet.” 

Steve laughed and agreed with you as you worked together to get it done. 

Another hour had passed, you were more comfortable, and that weird feeling in your stomach had started to gently subside, up until dinner itself was ready to be served. Dustin, Suzy, and Cass were more than happy to set the table, then as you sat having the said dinner, you stayed quiet the whole time just watching. 

Steve was sitting at the end of the table, Claudia at the other end, Dustin and Suzy were sitting across from you, and you were sitting next to Cassie, just a seat away from where Steve was sitting. It was, what you believed to be, your first big family dinner. 

As you’ve said, it was really only you and your dad growing up, and when you told Steve you never celebrated when he first invited you, you meant it. Your dad and you would go out to eat the following day, but it was still just the two of you and as you watched them interact, laughing and teasing each other, retelling stories you’ve never heard before, and Dustin going on about how his year at University was going, you realized that empty feeling you were feeling was one you always tended to feel around the holidays. 

Maybe you were feeling it a little bit more since you really had no family left, and seeing them just made you think about it more, made you think about how lonely you actually felt, a loneliness you’ve always felt. 

After dinner, Claudia had offered to make cocoa and coffee for everyone as you let your stomachs settle before dessert and everyone had agreed. She shooed you all out of the kitchen though, keen on letting you guys enjoy each other’s company so you were gathered in the living room, the television playing and Dustin continuing his D&D lesson for Cassie, and you actually. 

You couldn’t shake the feeling though, and had excused yourself for a bit. You hadn’t noticed that Steve wasn’t even in the room when you snuck outside to gather yourself. 

Steve had actually gone to the bathroom, mostly to fix his hair and when he came back, the living room was actually just empty. He figured the beverages were ready and waltzed into the kitchen, seeing that he was right. 

Suzy was helping Claudia pour them into various mugs and Dustin and Cassie were standing by the dessert counter, taking advantage of their backs being turned to them. 

“What are you doing?” Steve questioned as he walked closer. They both looked at Steve with wide eyes, their lips covered in crumbs of one of the apple pastries Claudia had made. 

Dustin wiped his mouth with his sleeve and said, “We’re checking it for poison, duh.” 

Steve’s face deadpanned, having heard that just weeks before from Cassie herself. Deciding it really wasn’t that big a deal, Steve looked around the kitchen, trying to find you, but only seeing the people he originally saw when he first walked in. He asked where you went, and Cassie, with a mouth full of pastry, told him that you had gone outside and Dustin backed her up.

So, Steve went outside too, not without taking two mugs of coffee; one for you and one for him. 

You were sitting on the bench, arms crossed over your chest and staring at nothing in deep thought. You didn’t seem to hear Steve coming outside, not until he cleared his throat and held the mug out for you to take. You visibly snapped out of your thoughts and turned to look at the mug then at Steve, muttering a soft thank you as you took it from him. 

“I just needed a bit of air,” you told him as you held the mug with both hands, enjoying the warmth it radiated.

Steve nodded, and took a sip of his before he sat down beside you, guessing what it was that was bothering you because he had been in the same position as you before. He just kind of sensed it and recognized it, especially when he observed how quiet you were during dinner.

“I know it’s overwhelming,” Steve suddenly said, “Sorry, I just assumed, and maybe I should’ve…I don’t know eased you better into having a big family dinner like this.” 

You blinked, and looked at him. He looked thoughtful as he continued to speak. 

“I’ve mentioned my oh so great parents once or twice, but…yeah I never had any of this,” Steve gestured around with his mug, “Not until I was well out of high school, not until Cassie was born really…I had her mom, but that’s…” he made a face at that, and you tilted your head, this being the first time he’s mentioned her in any context and you thought maybe the comments of surprise Steve invited somebody had to do with her.

“Anyway though, I get it- I was overwhelmed the first time too, and I still kind of am- but knowing that I can give Cassie these experiences I didn’t have growing up makes it worth it,” he finished with a sip of his coffee, eyes soft as he too stared at nothing, thinking of Cassie back inside enjoying the Holiday with the Henderson family. 

You didn’t have a daughter, not like Steve, but you could imagine if you did you would try your best to do the same. It made your heart swell with how much of a genuinely good person and dad he was, and you just wondered what more this guy could do that would make you like him even more. 

“It feels like something I never knew I needed,” you said, laughing weakly and Steve joined you with that weak laugh. 

“Oh yeah, it feels weird huh…but also good.” 

“Yeah…yeah it feels really good,” you agreed, turning your body toward him. 

Steve returned your gaze, seeing something in it that made him swallow very thickly. It had been a while, yes, but when Steve said he was getting dates at 13 he meant it. He knew what it was like when someone liked him, it was almost like second nature and he prided himself once in being able to know when the right time was to kiss a woman. 

He called it ‘electricity.’ Stupid to say as an adult, but true when he was a high schooler. There was electricity between you, and with a soft flutter of your eyelashes, Steve knew they were ‘kiss me’ eyes.

And so, he was slowly starting to lean in…catching your lips parting and your eyes flickering down to his lips. You were leaning in too, but then, the door was being slammed open. 

“We’re having pie now, come on!” Cassie called, poking her head out the door, startling you and Steve. He sucked in a tight breath, leaning away from you as he looked at Cassie who remained in her place, just staring at the both of you like she knew something you both didn’t or something. 

“We’ll be in right now,” Steve told her, and she slowly disappeared back into the house, making you laugh. Steve turned back to you, trying to steady his breath at what almost happened out here and feeling guilty for whatever reason.

He wondered what you were thinking, but you were already moving to stand and he tilted his head upward to look at you, trying to see if he could read you, but you didn’t really give him a chance. You rather smiled at him like always, not giving any sign that you knew he was going to kiss you, which relieved him…but also disappointed him. Did he imagine you leaning in too? Was he being a creep?

If he was, you weren’t acting like it and rather held your hand out and said, “Well, let’s go enjoy some dessert.” 

The rest of the night was filled with more fun, and Steve liked how you were looking less melancholy, talking with Suzy and Dustin (You did actually bring the radio up and Dustin would not shut up). Steve remained on the couch, Cassie laying on it with her head resting on his lap and he figured they should head home soon when he noticed Cassie was actually falling asleep. 

Then, you were standing up, announcing that it was late and you should go. Steve gently moved Cassie, telling her that you were leaving and she opened her sleepy eyes to say bye to you before shutting them again. 

You told everyone a good night, thanking them for letting you join them, and then Steve walked you out. It was on the porch, you turned to Steve and leaned in to give you a chaste on the cheek, catching Steve off guard. 

“Thank you for everything Steve,” you told him, the tone of your voice very soft that Steve almost didn’t hear you over the fasting beating of his own heart from the feeling of your lips touching his cheek, even if it was just for less than a second. 

“You’re…you’re welcome,” he said, voice breathless. You stepped backwards, telling him good night and Steve watched you, a million thoughts running through his mind until he noticed you snap your fingers. Steve furrowed his brows, wondering why you did that before you were leaning into your car and grabbing a paper bag. 

Then, you were walking back to him, and held it out for him to take. 

“What’s this?” Steve asked you as he took it. 

“Just a gift for Cassie,” you told him, looking between him and the bag almost eagerly.

Steve looked into the paper bag, having to squint his eyes to see what it was. When he realized what he was looking at, his eyes widened and he was looking at you. There was a walk-man in there.

“Is this- wait- you didn’t buy this did you?” 

“No!” you said, “It was actually mine, but I never use it.” 

Steve’s gaze remained on yours, jaw slightly agape at the gift you’d just given him to give to Cassie, “Are you…sure?” 

You were nodding, “Yeah, it just sort of sits in my dresser and I know Cassie will use it all the time. Oh, I even…” You reached out, digging into the bag for a moment before you wrapped your hands around what you were looking for, “I made this for her, since you said she was enjoying disco lately I thought I might as well introduce her to my favorite ones and others too I think you might enjoy.” 

Steve looked at the mixtape in your hands, and those butterflies went insane in his stomach, actually rising up into his extremely warm chest. He thought maybe he was feeling light headed by your incredibly nice gesture, Cassie was going to be so damn happy. 

“You might want to listen to it first,” you continued after Steve was still silently staring at you, “You know…make sure it gets a Steve of Approval.” 

That made him laugh, the disbelief leaving his face for amusement before his expression was warm again as he said, “No…no I trust you…god thank you so much, she’s going to be happy.” 

You were nodding again, dropping the tape back into the bag and putting your hands into your coat pockets, “So I guess I’ll see you soon?” 

Steve held the bag against him, and he nodded, “Yeah, yeah see you soon.” 

And then, you were off. 

Steve stayed standing there, up until you were pulling out of the driveway and waving at him from your car.

“...fuck,” Steve cursed at himself for some reason, but saying it just felt right and necessary. He liked you, a lot, and he hadn’t felt this way in such a long time. And because of that…Steve wasn’t quite sure how he was going to proceed with this, or if he should considering his luck with women in the past.

Yet, as he watched your car disappear and felt this pleasant buzz in his mind with thoughts full of you…he knew that he should. The only thing was…he hoped to god he would see you soon. 

#i had it all planned out in sections good lord this took a while to write but i DID it and i love it so much #honesty...take your time reading it it's so long alksjalksja #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagines #steve harrington x female reader #reader insert #female reader #stranger things #single dad steve au #confetti series #lys writes again

[smolwritingchick]

Forced To Believe Chapter 31- The Slammy Awards

Chapter Summary: Melanie celebrates Jon's Birthday. Ambrose confronts Morgan on why she has been lying to him. Problems arise when Ambrose's attitude problems start to annoy Morgan and the rest of his teammates. CM Punk makes a shocking request at TLC

Words: 5,000+

------ 'Saturday Morning.'

Melanie was in jeans and one of her Morgan shirts as she was in her shared hotel with Jon. She saw him in jeans and a dark blue shirt and walked up to him, hugging him from behind. 

"Guess who?" She grinned as Jon smiled. She released him and he turned around. "Happy Birthday!" She showed him a gift out of her bag.

"Thanks, babe." he opened the gift to reveal a mug that said 'World's Greatest Boyfriend.' "Wow. This is nice."

She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. "Get ready! We're gonna have an awesome day."

"What are we doing?"

"We, are going to an amusement park."

"Really?" his eyes lit up.

"Yep! We should have a fun day today at Six Flags since we're in a warm state today." 

Jon picked her up and twirled her around as she giggled and kissed him again.

"Awesome, let me grab my jacket and we can go." He released her.

When they arrived at the amusement park around 2 PM, Jon's eyes lit up. "Aw man, are those go-carts?" He pointed to them

"Yeah, wanna go "

"Let's go!" He grabbed her hand and dragged her to the go-cart station as she laughed. 

He reminded her of a little boy on Christmas, opening up presents. It was nice to see him happy since he wasn't able to enjoy a lot of fun things like this as a kid. Jon won 1st place while Melanie won 2nd.

"Haha, I know you're happy." she chuckled as Jon was grinning like crazy since he won. She then dragged him over to where the cotton candy was. "Hi, are you open?"

The cotton candy lady looked up in surprise. "O­oh my gosh, you're Morgan and Dean Ambrose."

"In the flesh." Melanie smiled.

"Sup." Jon greeted.

"Wow s-­sorry I'm trying not to get excited." The lady blushed

Melanie giggled. "It's okay. May I have a bag please?"

"Of course!" The cotton candy lady gave her a bag of pink cotton candy. "You can have a discount."

"Oh, no, I'll pay full price. I don't want to be treated with discounts because I'm famous," she replied and the cotton candy lady nodded and respected her wish.

"If it's not any trouble, do you mind signing my cotton candy hat?" The cotton candy lady took off her hat and took out a Sharpe.

"Anything for a fan." The Philly diva signed it with Jon.

"Thank you so much! Have a nice day! Oh. And happy birthday Dean!" 

Melanie happily ate her cotton candy, savoring the sweet taste. "You really have a sweet tooth." Jon chuckled and wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

"Ha, when I was a kid, my mom and dad had a huge cake that they got from a party. It was 12 inches. Guess who ate the whole cake and got a stomach ache for a week? Yours truly. I got grounded too."

"Someone's been a bad girl..."

"Hey! I am not bad. I am a good girl. Innocent."

It was getting dark out after they went on a few roller coaster rides and ate lunch. They decided to go on a Farris Wheel before they leave. 

Melanie leaned on Jon's shoulder as she looked at the sunset. 

"You really made my day." he smiled down at her.

"Glad to hear. I love making you smile."

"Why?"

"Because you make me happy when you smile." she smiled at him.

He leaned down and kissed her. "I love you, Mel."

"I love you too."

'Back at Jon's Hotel Room'

Melanie was in the bathroom while Jon was watching TV. "Mel, are you all right in there? You've been in there a while," he called out.

"Hey! Don't rush me!" She yelled as he laughed.

Melanie was in the bathroom, looking at herself in a dark blue Victoria's Secret set. She decided to put her hair up as well. 

"All right." She grinned to herself. She walked out of the bathroom and leaned on the door. "What do you think?"

He turned his attention to her and stared at her body, checking her out, up and down.

"Damn..." He got up and walked over to her but she shook her head.

"You're always in control. Now it's my turn. Let it be about you tonight." She pushed him on the bed. "So, sit back, relax and let this chica work her magic. Let me...be your Mox girl tonight."

"Your wish is my command..." He smirked as she straddled him and started to kiss him.

'Next week, Hours before The Slammy Awards on Raw'

Morgan was walking backstage, all ready in her black dress but gets grabbed by Dean. 

"Dean, what the heck?" She exclaimed as he dragged her to a room and shut it behind him. She watched him seething in anger. "What's wrong? Dean, what is going on with you? You've been off your rocker for a while now and I want to know what is going on." 

She leaned on the wall while he was glaring at the floor. He was already in his suit for the Slammys. She couldn't help but notice that they were in a storage closet. Wouldn't a locker room be better to discuss stuff? 

"Was it the kiss? Dean, there was no way I could have stopped the kiss, okay? Plus, I already got my revenge with the help of I mean, I already got my revenge on Goldust by giving him a backfire on Smackdown. We don't need to worry­-"

"Why didn't you tell me about the Wyatts?" He looked up at her. 

Morgan froze. She was in hot water now but knew that it was coming. She really didn't want to talk about the Wyatts right now, so she decided to play dumb.

"What are you talking about?" She asked with a confused look.

"What happened between you and the Wyatts?"

"Nothing."

"I'll ask you again...what happened between you and the Wyatts?"

"Nothing!"

"You know I don't like it when you lie to me..."

"I'm not lying."

"Yes, you are."

"No, I'm not!" 

"What happened between you and The Wyatts?"

"Drop it." She retorted.

"Answer me."

"Drop it. Drop it right now. You're being ridiculous..."

"Oh...now you want to play that game huh? Well, let's play another game." He pushed her to the wall and pinned her arms on top of her head with one hand. "Now, I'm going to ask you again...what is going on between you and the Wyatts?" He asked as she was taken aback before regaining her composure.

"I have no idea what you're talking about..." She narrowed her eyes.

"Won't tell me the truth huh? Then I'll make you." He began to touch her thigh with his free hand, raising it up slowly.

"Okay!" She exclaimed as he released her. "It all started on Raw when Luke saved me from Goldust. I asked him, why did he save me and he said that he didn't know. On Smackdown, Luke was watching me talk to Kaitlyn and that was the time when I got distracted. So, when you, Roman and Seth kept giving me the cold shoulder and told me I couldn't manage you guys at Survivor Series, The Wyatts came and told me that they would be waiting for me." She explained as Dean started to get angry. "And, when I got locked in a closet during Survivor Series, Bray was there, saying I had to unleash what's inside of me. Then, last week on Smackdown...Luke...helped me get revenge on Goldust..."

"So you lied to my face, every time I asked you what was wrong or what was going on with you and the Wyatts..." He muttered.

"I'm sorry, okay?"

"Sorry? You're not sorry, not yet." He pinned her arms to the wall again. She could smell his cologne and could feel his body heat on her. "Do you know how it made me feel when you gave him a small smile? Hm? That smile...should have been for me and me only, not any other man..." He growled. 

"And do you know how it made me feel when he grabbed your wrist? When he touched you? The only man who should touch you is me and me only." He breathed in her ear as she closed her eyes. "You're mine...Not Goldust's and certainly not Luke's...you got that?"

She couldn't speak because she was too hypnotized by his words. It turned her on a little. "I..."

"You're mine and I'll destroy anyone who wants to take you away from me."

"Why are you acting like this?" 

"Because you drove me to this, Morgan...you make me lose my mind...I'm crazy about you..." He started to kiss her neck as she bit her lip and sighed. "Say you're mine...Answer me, Morgan." He said in a demanding voice.

"I-­I'm yours."

"Say it like you mean it."

"I'm yours."

"Good and that better stay that way..." He looked at her as she was breathing heavily. He was about to kiss her but backed away as she was about to kiss him. "I'm sorry, did you want a kiss from me? Well, maybe next time you'll remember who makes you hot and bothered all the time instead of giving smiles to other men and lying to me." He smirked at her and left the room as she tried to get herself together.

'Raw'

During the preshow, they announced that The Shield won Hashtag of the Year, Breakout Star of the Year, and Faction of the Year.

Morgan tweets 'Woo! My boys and I are on fire tonight! #BelieveInTheShield'

Then, on the WWE Website, they revealed that Dean and Morgan won Couple and Kiss of the Year.

Morgan tweets 'Couple and Kiss of the Year? Nice. Looks like it's the start of #MrAndMrsAmbrose #BelieveinDeanAndMorgan'

'Later'

Later on Raw, "Ladies and Gentlemen please welcome the presenters for Double Cross of The Year, The Shield!" Justin announced.

'Sierra'

'Hotel'

'India'

'Echo'

'Lima'

'Delta'

'Shield.'

The Shield walk out in black. The male members had on black suits while Morgan wore her black dress and had her hair out and curly at the end. 

"Hey! Wow, do they ever look like winners," JBL said. "They look great!"

Seth was on the left while Morgan, Dean and Roman were next to him. Morgan heard the crowd cheering loudly and heard the women screaming. 

"I know...I know...I look great." Dean smiled as the fangirls screamed for the male members.

"Wow." Morgan listened in amazement. "I think you guys killed the Fangirls. Yikes," She said as the screams got louder.

"And what about you?" Seth asked.

"I didn't do anything, you three made the women fan girl like crazy. Am I right?" she asked as the women cheered in agreement.

"And what about the fanboys?"

"Oh, I don't have fanboys." She shrugged.

"Oh really? Does Morgan have some fanboys out there?" Seth asked as the men cheered loudly.

Morgan looked flattered as the guys chanted 'We Love Morgan!'

"Oh, you guys are just trying to make me blush..." She giggled. Moments later, the fans, mostly the males, chant 'Twirl.'

"You guys wanna see Morgan twirl?" Seth suggested as the guys cheered loudly. "Let them see your dress."

"Okay, fine." She walked to the stage and twirled around as she heard wolf whistles in the crowd. She giggled and walked back to The Shield and stood in between Dean and Seth.

"Stay away, she's mine," Dean announced as the guys boo him. "I know, I know, I'm lucky. I got the sexiest woman in this company. Kiss and Couple of the Year. Top that." He bragged.

Seth started to get annoyed. Dean's cockiness was starting to tick him off, especially when he bragged about having Morgan as his girlfriend. 

'We get it, you're her boyfriend. Don't be cocky'. He thought. 

He really wanted Morgan to at least slap the cockiness off his face one day. 

The Outspoken Diva didn't like Dean bragging and or his cockiness just like Seth and Roman. It was a little bit too much. And extremely unnecessary.

"Um, let's not make it about me, let's make it about the Double Cross of the year." she grinned at the crowd as they cheered.

"Double Cross of the year...Now we've already picked up two awards, tonight in the pre show, along with me and Morgan winning kiss and couple of the year, but this is one award, we know nothing about," Dean said.

"That's right my man," Seth spoke. "2013, year of The Shield. But all that justice we dispensed, we did it our way. Man to Man, straight up. Hahaha."

"So, if you're thinkin' about crossing." Roman began. "Or even double crossing The Shield, I'd wake up. Because you're gonna pay the price. And that's why-"

"That's why you'll never see our names." Dean interrupted as Morgan and Roman glanced at him. "In this category. Your nominees are..." He continued as the titantron showed the nominees which were Mark Henry, Shawn Michaels, Paul Heyman, and Triple H. After the fans voted, and when the Miz was in the ring with Kofi, Seth began to talk again.

"And your winner for Double Cross of the year is..." Seth trailed off as Dean opened up the envelope. 

The group takes a look at the result as Dean widens his eyes and looks up and then back at the envelope. Seth and Morgan were waiting for Dean to say the winner but Roman was tired of waiting and spoke up.

"Shawn Michaels!" he announced as the crowd cheered and Dean looked a little annoyed. 

When Shawn walks out, he shakes hands with The Shield and hugs Morgan, kissing her on the cheek

Morgan tweets 'Thanks for the support #FanBoys! I love you all! #KeepBelievingInMorgan'

In The Ring'

Punk was in the ring while Dean was with The Shield at ringside. CM Punk and Morgan lock eyes and smirk at each other.

"You're just asking for a punch in the face," Morgan said to him.

"I got this. I don't want help. I got this." Dean said to his team.

"Okay. We got you." Roman replied.

"It's just CM Punk, you got him, man," Seth added. 

When the match starts Dean and Punk lock up.

"Take him out." Roman looked on.

Punk starts taking control of Dean's arm. "Don't yank his arm off!" Morgan exclaimed. 

The crowd was chanting 'CM Punk' as he continued to take control of his arm. Morgan was watching Punk's movements closely. Punk can hurt people, the hand, wrists, arms, legs, knees, anything. 

Dean manages to knee him in the ribs when he goes high risk and starts to take control. Later on, Punk manages to do a flying clothesline outside the ring on Ambrose and turns his attention to Rollins and Reigns who are stalking him on each side of the ring. Morgan was on Seth's side, keeping her distance from the drama.

"CM Punk is in deep trouble," Cole said as they went to a commercial.

Near The End Of The Match, Punk hits Dean with a crossbody but Dean rolls them over and pins him for a near fall and as soon as they get up, Punk kicks him in the head. He pins him for another near fall as The Shield were relieved. 'This is awesome' chants surround the arena as Dean throws Punk out the ring, near The Shield. Dean distracts the ref as The Shield look at Punk and trash talk to him. 

But then Ambrose gets out of the ring and starts arguing with his team.

"You know what? How about the three of you just go." Dean throws Punk in the ring.

"Are you kidding me, right now?" Morgan asked, looking confused.

"I said leave!" Dean yelled.

"Excuse me? Who do you think you're talking to?" She snapped and stepped up to him. "You're not gonna talk to me like that. You've lost your mind!"

"Uh oh! Uh oh!" Cole exclaimed as the crowd started to get hyped. The fans were standing up to get a good look at them fighting.

"Back up, Morgan, back up..." Ambrose growled as Roman held him back.

"You wanna yell at me? Who do you think you are?" She shouted in his face.

"Would you calm down and just go? Damn it! You don't freaking listen! Just go!"

"How about you ask nicely instead of yelling at me!"

"Morgan! Calm down! Don't argue with your boyfriend! Where is the love!?" JBL yelled as Seth and Roman were looking amused at Morgan, pleased that she was putting him in his place.

"The Shield are showing cracks..." King looked on.

"More like Dean and Morgan are showing cracks. Morgan looks livid." Cole said.

"I wonder if the WWE Universe wants to see them feud again someday," King said.

"They better not!" JBL retorted.

"Get out of here. I don't need you." Ambrose waved her away.

"You don't need me?" She slowly repeated, taking it all in.

"Are you deaf? I don't need you. Get out of my damn sight." His anger got the best of him.

"Oh, okay then." She decided to smack him across the face as the crowd went wild and Roman released him.

"Morgan!" Seth held her back, secretly happy that she slapped him.

Dean holds his cheek and looks at her in shock.

"Damn..." Roman murmured, looking at the red handprint on Dean's face. He was amused and happy she did it.

"She just slapped her boyfriend! I thought you two loved each other!" JBL complained and started freaking out. "Morgan! What are you doing?! Couple of the year! Mr and Mrs Ambrose! This should not be happening!" 

"Oh well, it's happening!" Cole cheered as the crowd chanted 'Yes!'

"What the hell was that for?!" Ambrose yelled while Seth let Morgan go.

"You're cocky, that's why. I'm tired of it." She confessed. "We're tired of it." She pointed at Seth and Roman. "So, if you're this confident and don't need us, fine. Bye, have a nice life. Go focus on your match, don't worry about me, you don't need me or Seth and Roman." She started walking near the ramp as Seth and Roman followed her. 

In the ring, Ambrose gets hit with the GTS as The Shield look annoyed and Ambrose loses the match.

"Wow..." She retorted and shook her head, turning around and getting on the apron. Punk looked alert as she smirked at him. "Hey, how ya doing?"

Punk was about to run after her but she smoothly gets off the apron and laughs. Seth tries to get in the ring as Punk tries to go after him but he slides out of the ring. Once Punk turns around, he gets speared by Reigns and holds his stomach in pain. 

"A spear! A spear by Reigns!" Cole exclaimed. "Now those ribs may be broken."

Morgan gets in the ring and stalks Punk. She waits for him to get on his knees and she hits him with a spinning kick in the face, dropping him as the crowd 'Ohs'

"Ooh, you may wanna put ice on that." She slid out of the ring as The Shield's theme came on.

Rollins helps Dean get over the barricade as Punk recovers and holds his ribs. He looks at The Shield and then Morgan, nodding to himself.

"Okay...all right...okay," he said to himself.

Morgan tweets 'Couples aren't perfect. We are going to argue and fight. #INeedSpace'

Morgan also tweets 'Oh poor CMPunk. Those ribs aren't gonna heal in 6 days. You sure you want to face my boys at TLC?'

'WWEMorgan101 You picked a fight. You started it. Now I'm going to finish it. It's on now.' Punk replies.

'Hit me with your best shot CMPunk.' Morgan replies back.

'Be careful what you wish for. I found your weakness.' Punk replies back.

'WWE Exclusive on Raw'

Morgan was walking backstage, annoyed and sat on a black crate and tried to calm herself down. 

"Rough night?" Roman asked as he walked over to her.

"Ya think?" She snapped.

"Easy tiger. Just trying to be a friend."

"I'm sorry. You didn't deserve that. I just need space."

"From Dean?"

"You can say that. He can be so annoying at times. I'm tired of him bragging. It kind of gets out of hand, you know?"

"Me and Seth agree. I didn't like how he snapped at you moments ago. That was uncalled for." 

"I'm used to his anger issues..."

"Couples argue you know. You're not perfect. You're going to disagree."

"I know. I guess my anger just escalated until I couldn't take it anymore."

"Seth and I understand why you did what you did. Don't beat yourself up. So, are you going to talk to him?"

"Me? Talk to him? No. He can talk to me. I'm not speaking to him until he apologizes."

"Sounds fair enough."

"Anyway, thanks for listening to me vent. You're a good friend." Morgan got off the crate and hugged him.

"You're here for me, I'm here for you. We have each other's backs. I told you from the beginning when you started being The Shield's Girl."

"Yeah. I can't wait for the new year."

"Why?"

"To see you rise as a big star. You're a beast in that ring, man. I can see you as WWE Champion one day." She playfully punched his shoulder as he chuckled.

"Thanks. You know Morgan, I want to see you wrestle superstars one day."

"Like my cousin?"

"Hey, you never know. I can see you do it. You're not fragile."

"One day, just not anytime soon. I need to mentally prepare myself for that. I'm just not ready to face any superstar this year." 

Roman grinned. "It better be in 2014."

"Never say never."

----

'Smackdown'

The Shield was in the ring while Dean was on commentary. 

"We're back on Friday Night Smackdown, The Shield in tag team action against The Usos and we're joined by the United States Champion, Dean Ambrose at ringside. We'll be talking a lot with Dean about his match with The Shield on Sunday against CM Punk. Dean, a match that hardly seems fair to CM Punk." Cole said.

"Well, I thought I just join you guys out here on the booth because I wanna make sure that you guys understand how much trouble CM Punk is really in. It's just a hopeless situation that CM Punk is gonna be in this Sunday at TLC when he steps in the ring...with The Shield." Dean replied as the Usos made their way to the ring.

Cole and JBL start talking about their show and how they won a Slammy for it. 

"You wanna talk about Slammy awards..." Cole began.

"The Shield picked up a lot of Slammy awards," Dean said.

"Indeed you did, listen to this Dean, The Shield won, breakout star of the year, hashtag of the year." 

"I didn't have enough room in my suitcase to fit all my Slammys."

"The faction of the year and the maneuver of the year for Roman Reigns' spear."

"And don't forget kiss and couple of the year with Dean and Morgan," JBL reminded.

"Morgan and I won those awards hands down. We sacrifice things for each other, we love each other and we are the hottest couple in this company. Plain and simple. If we didn't win those awards, it would have been an injustice. Now, it was an injustice that she didn't win diva of the year but she is still one of the most dominant divas in this company and she continues to shine each and every time she gets in the ring. She's the Harley Quinn of my dreams." Ambrose smirked.

"Speaking of the Outspoken diva, where is she?" Cole asked.

"She should be here soon. She had to get ready since she had some errands to do." Dean explained.

'To Morgan'

Morgan was already in her Shield attire and was putting on her gloves. She then began to hear footsteps.

"Guys, I said I'm coming..." She called out but heard a thump. "Guys?" She looked around.

"Think again." A voice said as her eyes widened.

"W-­what are you doing here?"

"Sit down." The voice ordered as she quickly obeyed and sat on a chair.

'Back to Dean'

"I have a question, are The Shield showing cracks? You've kind of rubbed Morgan the wrong way on Raw when you yelled at her." Cole said.

"Yeah! What the heck Dean? You two are my favorite couple. Why would you two argue like that?" JBL exclaimed.

"Well, the crowd seemed to love it."

"No, they didn't. That's a lie."

"Listen, Morgan and I aren't perfect. We're gonna argue and we're gonna fight. All couples do that." Dean replied.

"So, what's your status with Morgan?" Cole asked.

"We're...still not talking."

"Still not talking? Dean, you two gotta get it together!" JBL exclaimed.

"Guess you two hit a rocky road." Cole declared. "You think you alienated yourself from Rollins and Reigns as well?"

"What about the last 365 days? That didn't show cracks." Dean said.

"Okay, and what about the cracks now? Crack number one was on Smackdown when you said that you were the baddest man in The Shield and went to take on Punk all by yourself to much of the dismay of Rollins and Reigns. Crack number two was on Raw when you decided to yell at Morgan and got slapped in the face while you two were arguing. And crack number three was when The Shield decided to walk up the ramp." Cole mentioned. "What's up with that?"

"We eat, sleep and breathe this business. That's why Rollins and Reigns and I are like brothers. We're passionate about this business." Dean replied.

"Morgan still isn't here. You sure she even came to work?" JBL asked.

Dean was starting to get worried. "Now I am getting a little worried," Dean admitted with concern in his voice as he wondered where she was.

Near the end of the match, Seth mocks CM Punk and does the GTS on one of the Usos as Roman spears the Uso for the win. 

"And The Shield are victorious," Cole announced.

"At TLC, CM Punk will...Believe in The Shield." Dean took off his headset and celebrated with his teammates.

Suddenly, Morgan is on the titantron in a dark arena, looking worried as The Shield's theme comes off.

"Guys...we have a problem..." She said in a shaky voice as the screen revealed CM Punk behind her and the crowd exploded. 

Ambrose glares at Punk while Roman and Reigns aren't looking too happy. Normally, Morgan would disobey but Punk had a kendo stick and kendo sticks hurt. She started to remember the days when Tommy Dreamer had his back bloodied up by the Sandman with a Singapore cane during the ECW days. She did not wanna go down that road. Weapons would be her weakness if she didn't have a weapon to defend herself. It's been so long since she's been hit with a weapon.

"This is CM Punk, broadcasting in an undisclosed location...actually this is just a basement in the arena." Punk spoke as Ambrose was about to get out of the ring but Seth and Roman stopped him. "Ambrose, I wouldn't do that if I were you...wouldn't want your precious little girlfriend to pay the price, would you?" He smirked as he revealed a kendo stick.

Ambrose starts seething while Seth and Roman glare at Punk. Punk puts the kendo stick on Morgan's left shoulder as she shuts her eyes, looking nervous.

"Just get that stick out of here. It's not necessary." she opens her eyes, shaking her head.

"Oh, so now you're begging? After all the trash you've said? I've found your weakness. Weapons." Punk said as she started to get annoyed. "One of these days Morgan, I want to see if you can actually put those words into truths in the ring. So, you ask why is it necessary to put this stick on your shoulder? Maybe it's because I am this close to whacking you in the face with it. I hope you don't think I forgot about that kick in the face...Now...I could get my revenge on you now..." He continued as the crowd cheered to encourage him.

"Don't you touch her! Don't you dare hurt her!" Seth yelled as Roman tried to calm him down while Ambrose shot a dirty look at Punk.

Punk chuckled. "Don't worry...I'm not gonna hurt her...yet...she can wait. So, you guys make your videos here? It's filthy...it stinks...but I understand that this is your little clubhouse and this is where you like to gather to say your messages. And...I like to send messages too...Like on Raw when a certain somebody decided to put his hands on me just like Morgan here."

He sets the kendo stick down and starts taping his hands. 

"Now on to this Sunday...I believe...it's three on one, The Shield against CM Punk. I believe I'm walking into a whole sail of slaughter. I've said it in the past...Shield, I may be going down...but the question you need to be asking yourselves, Roman Reigns, Seth Rollins, Dean Ambrose...is how many of you I'm takin' with me. 'Cause I believe, the last two times...I've been in the ring with a member of The Shield, I've exposed your weaknesses boys..." He grinned as the crowd cheered again. "Believe! In the best in the world." Punk showed his fist to the camera and pushed it away.

"We got this. No one can touch us!" Seth yelled before the three of them quickly ran to find Morgan.

'WWE TLC'

The Shield was on the titantron during the preshow. 

"Good for CM Punk...putting on that brave face...Who do you think you're kidding?" Dean asked. "You know exactly what this is. You know exactly what The Shield is going to do to you tonight, Punk. We're going to beat you to a pulp so you should be scared."

"Punk, you think you can divide and conquer? Well, to steal a catchphrase from another man we put down, it doesn't matter what you think." Seth laughed. "You can't divide us...you damn sure ain't gonna conquer us. Punk, we're forged out of iron. The Shield is unyielding."

"Punk, after what you did on Smackdown, I really can't wait to see you get your ass beat by my boys tonight." Morgan retorted.

"Punk, Punk, Punk, the way I look at it, you're just a liar. In front of the whole world, you've lied. You have no chance tonight. To be honest I think uh, I think you got a little confused last week when I speared you in half, but the thing is, there's one more waiting for ya. You can't take us with you." Roman said.

"CM Punk is a man of conviction. CM Punk is a man of beliefs. But after tonight, Punk, you're only gonna believe in one thing...you're gonna believe in The Shield." Dean pushed the camera away.

'Later'

The Shield was in the ring with CM Punk as their theme song faded. Morgan was in her Shield shirt with black jeans and black boots and fingerless gloves.

Before the bell rings, Brad Maddox walks to the stage. "Wait a second! Wait a second!" He yelled as the crowd boos.

"What is he doing here?" JBL asked as The Shield looked confused.

"There's been a slight change in the match up." Brad said as The Shield looked at each other.

Morgan grabbed a mic. "Um, what do you mean slight change? This match was fine as a three on one match. Punk deserves this beating that he's gonna get tonight " She got cut off by Dean who snatched the mic out of her hands. 

The crowd gave him mixed reactions while Morgan looked at him in surprise and annoyance. 

"Wow..." she muttered, shaking her head at him. 

"What she meant to say was Brad, even if you change the stipulation of the match, it's still going to be a win/win situation for The Shield. The Shield are going to beat Punk into a pulp." Ambrose said with a smug look while Morgan rolled her eyes.

"I see there's another crack in The Shield." King pointed out as Seth and Roman were annoyed at Dean's actions too.

"Well, then maybe your confidence might boost a little bit. Because, since Punk, personally requested this, this match is now a 4 on 1 match!" Brad announced.

"Wait, what? With who?" Morgan asked Seth and Roman.

"It will be...CM Punk versus Dean Ambrose, Seth Rollins, Roman Reigns and Morgan Lopez!" Brad announced.

"What!?" King yelled in a high pitched voice as Morgan slowly turned her head to Brad.

The crowd went wild, chanting 'Yes!' while Punk laughed.

The Outspoken Diva looked at Brad in disbelief. 

Did she hear him correctly? There had to be some kind of mistake.

"Punk personally asked for Morgan to be in the match!?" Cole exclaimed.

"This is not good," JBL said as The Shield turned at Morgan as she looked at Brad and then Punk. "Morgan, run. Run now, run fast."

"Nowhere to hide now." Punk pointed at her.

"Who said I'm hiding?" She retorted.

"Calm down. We got this." Seth said and put her hand on her shoulder.

"Morgan is going to face a WWE Superstar?" King exclaimed.

"Only if she gets in the ring. The Shield might not let her, so she should be okay." JBL added.

"When's the last time a WWE Diva went on to face a WWE Superstar?" Cole asked.

"I'm going to enjoy making you go to sleep, Morgan." Punk taunted.

"And I'm going to enjoy kicking you in the face." She stepped up.

Ambrose smirked. "Over my dead body." He stepped up to Punk as the ref tried to separate them. 

Morgan started to get annoyed again since Dean decided to fight her battles when she didn't need help defending herself. She got on the apron with Seth and Roman as Dean and Punk started off the match.

She tried to get her head together, processing everything that just happened. She wasn't mentally prepared to wrestle a superstar yet and to be dropped with a bombshell like this was insane. She had a feeling she would be going down but decided to keep her head up high and step up. She brought herself into this, so she needs to face the consequences. 

She studied Punk's moves, but was she ready to face him? 

Physically? She'll have to see. 

Mentally? Not so much.

"Put up or shut up time Morgan. You talked trash about Punk, now let's see if you can live up to those words." Cole said.

"Punk says that Morgan is all talk but no action. I'd like to see her take action." King said.

"We just won't tag her in," Dean said to Seth and Roman.

"Um, excuse me, who said I didn't want to be tagged in?" Morgan asked, gaining her composure back. "I'm not hiding behind you guys any longer. Tag me in. Right now." she had her hand out as the crowd cheered. 

Punk was looking forward to this as Ambrose looked at him, Morgan and then the crowd.

"No," Dean answered and turned his attention to Punk. 

Roman glared at Ambrose for that while Rollins looked annoyed.

"Seriously...?" She grumbled while Roman put his hand on her shoulder.

"Don't lose your cool." Roman calmly told her as she nodded. 

He knew she wasn't going to take much more of this. Punk knew it, the crowd knew it, and Seth knew it.

"It's a whole different ball game for Morgan. We've seen her argue and put her hands on The Shield. But let's find out if she has what it takes to be in a match with a WWE Superstar." JBL said as Morgan was in deep thought, watching Punk's movements, thinking of a plan as the match started.

------

Favorite Hashtag?

#BelieveInTheShield

#MrAndMrsAmbrose

#BelieveInDeanAndMorgan

#FanBoys

#KeepBelievingInMorgan

#INeedSpace

#the shield #dean ambrose x oc #the shield 4th member #dean ambrose #dean ambrose fanfic #jon moxley x oc #jon moxley #wwe imagine #wwe scenarios #wwe oc #wwe fanfiction #cm punk #forced to believe

[inscrutable-shadow]

Mediwhump May Day 8 - Scared of Blood

@mediwhumpmay

Cassiel belongs to @painful-pooch! Based on the fact that I broke my wrist in fifth grade, treated it as a sprain even though it def wasn't (no fracture on the x-ray so guessing it was a hairline) and then developed a ganglion cyst ten years later lol my wrist is still fucked up it's so fun (i went over my self-imposed word count on this one ack) Content Warnings: needles, minor surgical procedure

Another transfer case. The Doctor was considering making it look like they’d retired to avoid these. At this point, it was usually minor outpatient procedures that were incredibly annoying to perform and even though they could charge the insurance their usual “nameless doctor” rate (which was still less than other doctors would have), having to deal with legal processes at all made them want to spend an afternoon performing unsavoury experiments on a corpse. Not that they didn’t always want to do that. 

Between that and the fact that the espresso machine had broken down and they’d been forced to fuel their morning on drive-through coffee, they were already in quite a bad mood when their patient arrived, all shyness and deference and looking out of place, and they couldn’t bring themselves to demur back. 

“Mr Belanger, I presume? Do come in. I do not have all day to waste. The outreach programme has sent you over, no? I do wish that they would not send their excess to me…” “Oh, I can just… I dinnae have to…” Cassiel was slightly shorter than the Doctor, and despite his broad shoulders appeared to shrink back into the doorframe. They identified his accent as Scottish, though pulled at and smoothed over around the edges by proximity to other regions like the Doctor’s own mostly-English, sometimes-Swedish intonation.

They sighed. “My apologies. That was unprofessional of me. Just an annual physical, yes? Please, have a seat. I shall have you in and out in no time.” 

He hesitantly took his seat on the examination table while the Doctor pulled on a fresh pair of gloves. “It’s… you dinnae need money frae me, right?” Yes. He did not appear to be the sort of person who could afford them: his clothes were in tatters and his shoes full of holes. They were used to a clientele with large amounts of ill-gotten gains. 

They raised an eyebrow. “Correct, my compensation is covered by an agreement with the clinic you came from. Verify your name, date of birth, and medical history on that tablet over there, will you?” They rolled over the cart with the medical supplies on it while he did so, frowning and exchanging one tool for another just to kill the time. “Any particular complaints?”

Cassiel watched them warily as they brought their gloved hands up to check his lymph nodes. “Nay, nothin’ I can think of…”

Liar. “Oh? And does it hurt when I do this?” They bent his right wrist forward at a completely reasonable angle, which made him flinch and a spark of vindicated mischief flare in the Doctor’s chest. “That is what I expected. How long have you had the ganglion cyst?”

Cassiel blinked. “The what?”

“Ganglion cyst. A pocket of fluid found on the top or bottom of the wrist. Cause unknown, though they are common for patients who perform repeated wrist motions or have a history of wrist trauma.” They held up the hand, running a gloved finger down the scars on his arm. “You engage in some form of martial arts, no? I assume you fractured your wrist at some point in the past, perhaps a hairline, and you treated it as a sprain. This is quite a lot of fluid, I am sure it hinders your daily activities. How long have you had it?”

“Oh, er… Couple o’ years, I think… Is it dangerous? It does bother me a bit…”

“Not dangerous, no, but if it is impeding your activities, I do recommend aspiration, especially if it is multiple years old and has not gone down. It is a minor outpatient procedure, I could have the whole thing done for you before you leave today.” They rolled over to the supply cabinet to begin withdrawing the materials even before receiving an answer.

The colour had drained out of the man’s face by the time they turned around again. “H-hold on, wait… what’s… aspiration?”

The Doctor was too busy comparing needle gauges and deciding which one would be appropriate to really pay this any mind. “Quite simple, needle goes in, fluid comes out. Local anaesthetic is all that will be necessary. Just take care with the hand in question for a couple of days.”

“It… doesnae have to be a needle, do it? I, er…” Oh. Needle phobia. How annoying.

They tilted their head at him. “Well, I could excise instead. A bit more involved, I would need to use the scalpel, but should still have you in and out in an hour or so.”

He seemed to like that idea even less. “No, ah, it’s… all right, ye can, aspirate or wha’ever it is…”  

“Very good.” They began preparing the implements. “To reduce anxiety during the procedure, you can feel free to talk about whatever you would like. Keep your eyes on the chart on the back wall, yes?” 

The patient was silent for a moment as the Doctor began swabbing the site for the lidocaine injection, but eventually, he took a breath and blurted out, “I thought yer voice didnae match ye, when I walked in.”

“What?” The word came out strangely, as if their voice didn’t know how to behave when attention was called to it.

“Ye didnae seem like a purple person. I can… I see sounds.”

“Ah. Chromesthesia. Continue.”

Cassiel swallowed hard. “Is that… blood?” They tracked his eyes to the barrel of the syringe, which was now drawing up fluid.

“No. I told you to keep your eyes on the wall, did I not? If you stress yourself into syncope, I will not be pleased.”

He shifted uncomfortably, but relaxed after moving his attention. “See? That’s it. I thought ye’d be redder, but yer purple is very blue.” They didn’t really know how to respond to that. “Chromesthesia rarely has any tangible logic behind it, though I have been described as ‘cold’ and ‘rigid’ repeatedly by others in the past. I prefer to think of myself as efficient. There we are, all done. Not so bad, was it?” They’d done the steroid injection without him even noticing, and all that was needed now was the splint.

“That was… fast.”

“Like I said, I am efficient. Now, let us continue with the examination, yes?”

#whump #my writing #mediwhumpmay #original fiction #whumpblr #the doctor five card draw #cassiel belanger #back alley au #coy writes #don't worry cass the doc just hates everyone it's not you #in which the doc is prickly for no reason #tw needles

[mysticonsheadcanons]

Mysticons Sharise's Dad Episode: Surprise.

Note: This is based on a post I made about Sharise's backstory.

The Mysticons are hanging out in the stronghold when there is a knock at the door. Sharise sees and hugs him, introducing him as her dad, Lydor. Arkayna remembers Sharise talking about her anthroplogist father. Lydor then reveals that he's not just there to visit, and says that he wants Sharise to quit being a Mysticon. Sharise storms off.

Sharise is wandering around the undercity when she sees a statue that wasn't there before. She initially doesn't think much of it, but then it sprays out some kind of acid. Sharise pushes a kid out of the way, and while the kid gets out completely fine, Sharise gets a little bit of the acid on her arm, giving herself a slight burn. A cart behind them, which got most of the acid sprayed on it, gets destroyed. Sharise calls the others.

Lydor goes with the other Mysticons to meet Sharise, and mentions how she wanted Sharise to have a calm, stable life, and that's why he left Sharise with her uncle while he travelled for work. Zarya points out how Zaros treated Sharise, and Piper adds how happy Sharise is as a Mysticon, and how they're happy to have Sharise on the team. Lydor promises to think about letting Sharise stay as a Mysticon.

They meet up with Sharise, and Lydor sees the burn on Sharise's arm and tells her that he won't let Sharise continue being a Mysticon, as he doesn't want Sharise hurt any worse. Sharise insists that she'll be a Mysticon with or without her dad's permission, and says that Lydor has no right to try and contrl her life after leaving her with his uncle. Em suggests that they at least finish this mission, hoping to stop the two from arguing.

Since they don't have any leads on who made the statue, they decide to ask around. They find some orphans, who said that a mean person used an acid sprayer to scare them out of a building they were living in. They lead Lydor and the Mysticons there, and Arkayna tells them to wait outside, as it may be dangerous in the building.

They sneak in, and soon find a human female scientist, talking on the phone about how she can take any land and any house that she wants in the city, including having complete control of the undercity. Lydor recognizes her as a former professor at the University of Drake City, where he works, but was kicked out due to ethical violations. A fight ensues, and the scientist is defeated. However, no one notices her pressing a button on a remote.

The Mysticons and Lydor are checking to make sure that the area is safe for the oprhans to live in when suddenly, some acid begins filling the room. They all manage to get on some furniture, but Lydor mentions how the acid is melting the furniture, so they won't be safe for long. Piper guesses that Sharise's powers to create grease may make the acid weaker, but Em and Sharise both point out that they don't know if Sharise's powers are an acid or base (Science note: Basically, acidity is based on a scale from 0-14. Below 7 is an acid, 7 is neutral, and above 7 is a base), and if it's either neutral , or an acid, it wouldn't work. Sharise does mention that it's slippery, hinting that it's a base, and tries it. The acid neutralizes enough for them to escape, and Zarya calls her mom to request a team that specializes in cleaning chemicals cleans out the building. Queen Goodfey agrees, and Lydor notices how Queen Goodfey is concerned for her daughters by asking if they're alright during the call, but supposrts them being Mysticons.

Lydor apoligizes for trying to take Sharise away from the Mysticons, and admits that while he doesn't like Sharise being in danger, he is happy to see Sharise being around people who truly cares for her. He also says that, given what he's heard from Zarya about Zaros, he is glad Sharise has somewhere else to stay. He gives the Mysticons his number and tells them to call him if Sharise is hurt, and he'll come as soon as he can, no matter if he's in Drake City or off to another country.

#Mysticons #Fanwork #Fan episode

[opiumpoisonjasminerose]

This feels deeply ironic

I mean, I couldn't be more grateful. How I was going to get through February felt like a serious question. And now I'm nervous and have butterflies again?

When I was 21, Steven manipulated things to make it seem as though everything happened around Matthew's birthday. Now... they actually are.

But. Good g-d I needed the distraction from the date.

I feel weird talking to someone so kind. Like... I need to fix my shit so fast. Like I let myself go bad, rot, and then I speak to someone on my level if I was me forever ago. Sure of myself, into my hobbies, ambitious, kind, well-balanced. And I look at the rubble of my life and think... oof

Yeah *technically* were equals but like... gimme a minute to clean up

I don't remember how to flirt. I don't remember how to even reassure someone that my shitty social behavior isn't rejection. Now I have to accept being asked out, but... make it cute...

Ugh I got asked out. To such a cute date.

Such a low-pressure, could be anything thing. Just fun, a chance to talk. A chance to be playful alone together. Get to know eachother in a comfortable environment

I like how much everyone likes him. I keep trying to sort through how I feel about that... how I feel about someone's ex talking them up or suggesting a person to them. Who I would have done that for and why. Mostly the why. I guess the older we all get, the *well why are YOU single?* is a thing

It just feels like such a gamble with sweet boys. Are they secret creeps? Violent behind closed doors? Is there going to be some sexual weirdness, something controlling, what's the problem? Why haven't other girls stayed?

Not like people don't just grow apart... and his ex seemed so kind and lovely. I dunno.

I do take it I'm a little younger? I'm always a little younger... I'd love it if that wasn't *a thing*

I just... I don't even remember what he said, but I remember him saying something about checking in, or clear communication with his girlfriend. And it was ALL I WANTED at the time from Matthew, was begging for, and... he outlined it so simply as this bare minimum. And I couldn't help but feel like maybe... some people are a better fit than others, emotionally, in how they think about relationships, etc. So then when he and I started talking, with him checking in that I felt okay with him messaging me, his intentions, etc... he's just been so kind.

And if I have ANY need in a relationship? It's that. I just want to feel safe.

Which is hella cart before the horse I just need to figure out how to respond to this message

Okay, I want to convey -

1. I would definitely like to meet up with *him*

2. Something about how us talking about pinball had prompted me to think about the fact that I haven't played in so long, to question if I would be as bad as I'm assuming etc

3. Maybe some way to make it easier to plan? At least some reference to my schedule?

Also it does not need to be complicated short and sweet

I appreciate how much he keeps underlining that this is definitely just as friends but... I don't want to take initiative. I am hoping this stuff will come up naturally? He talks like an ADHDer so getting questions in feels hard

[cheerfullycatholic]

Hello! 🙏

I just want to ask, what helps you to stop getting in your own head about things and I guess really stop being selfish and instead think more of others and helping those around?

I know that probably sounds really weird but yeah I’d really appreciate any advice and just your fave things to do to help others etc? :)

Hi! That's not weird at all 😊

Tbh I struggle a lot of getting stuck in my own head, the last three days especially. We've had a lot of snow recently and because of it the thrift store I've been dying to go to has been closed and it's been making me so upset!! I just wanna get some books and sweaters and maybe hopefully some binoculars!!! The past couple days I've been really frustrated with them, wondering why they won't just open because the roads for the most part are fine. But today, I took a step back, and realized some things. The roads are okay, but accidents are still likely with all the slush, and the store is run mostly by elderly volunteers, one of them being my 76 year old friend who has gotten into accidents in this kind of weather before. It became clear to me that I was being selfish, and it wasn't worth the risk of the good people who work there to open in this weather just so I can buy more things. It helped me a lot to take a step back and realize that I wasn't the only person involved in this situation, and what I want isn't important and can wait until the roads are better to drive on. It sucks to not get what I want, but looking at the whole picture and realizing that getting what I want pales in comparison to the safety of others, including my friend. Taking a step back in these kinds of situations helps me a lot

As for helping others, it can be really hard, especially when your help isn't always well received. What has helped me is to constantly remind myself that God wanted them to exist, loves them so much that He died for them, and put them in our path for a reason. Maybe that reason is for me simply to hold the door open for someone with their hands full, or smile at the baby looking at me expectantly in the cart in front of me, or ask the cashier how they're doing. I've realized that I have to keep things simple. I can't dwell on who people are, their flaws, or what they believe in. I just have to acknowledge them as someone God loves and try to do the next best thing. I post a lot of quotes and other things about helping others on @the-mercy-workers if you wanna check it out! I try to emphasize on there that you don't have to do big, extraordinary things to help others (although those aren't bad) and that little acts of mercy and kindness do just as much for those around you

#i feel like i rambled a bit so apologies for that

[boop-le-snoot]

main masterlist ☀️ taglist & faq

hot wheels | natasha romanoff x reader

explicit, 5,2k words, f/f. meet-ugly but still very much wholesome. we love a girlboss. natasha catches some random woman keying her brand new car but decides to be the better person for once and hear the woman out. turns out, being the better person can even get one laid! warnings: singular use of the d-slur, references to an abusive ex, lesbian sex.

[no y/n, no "you", nickname only, no reader description - race/age/body type neutral, she/her pronouns]

Natasha gave the tall, lanky boy an unimpressed look as she side-stepped the arguing couple to avoid colliding with the annoyed, teary-eyed woman the boy was groveling to. It was nearing rush hour and there was shopping to be done before the heavy NYC traffic could steer her already busy schedule down into an unmanageable chaos.

"But, Foxy, you know I didn't mean it! I love you, more than anything!"

The items on the spy's list were checked off methodically, item after item landing in the cart with a quiet thud as the redhead maneuvered through the isles with tactical precision. The usual afternoon crowd began to fill the store, taking up the so-needed breathing space; Natasha's shopping trip wasn't a moment of leisure and with her neverending to-do list full, she hurried to the self-check-out register, flying through the motions mindlessly.

Scan, place, beep, boop, pay, load up the bags, make way to the car, load up and pedal to the metal.

Scratch that. No, scratch - Natasha's eyes bulged as she neared her shiny, brand new Charger, seeing the obvious defects even from a mile away: the paint, previously cherry red and gleaming in the sun, ruined by a series of thin, gray lines, standing out unpleasantly on the otherwise pristine vehicle.

And the culprit, who's tuft of hair peeked over the hood of the car on the other side of the Charger, almost fully hidden between her car and the large Chevrolet in the next parking spot over.

Natasha's fingers clenched around the handle of the cart as she fought the urge to reach for her knife safely holstered under her leather jacket. "Excuse me?" Tone quiet and deadly, the spy prepared herself to fight or at least slightly shake up the hooligan.

The figure froze, vaguely familiar clothing and a puffy, tear-stained face slowly rising from behind Natasha's car. "In my defense, he deserves it," the girl - Foxy - the one that was arguing in front of the store earlier, declared through a stream of angry tears. "Call the cops if you want, I don't care." It was unclear if the girl recognised her, the Black Widow, as she made no move to run for the hills, just pathetically sniffled, pocketing the keys she used to scratch Natasha's car.

"That's my car," The spy responded flatly, a great deal of amusement crawling into her face as Foxy's eyes bulged, jaw fell slack, horror plain and evident overshadowing the waterworks. Natasha quickly pieced two and two together but patiently waited for the initial shock to subside before popping a question. "A word of advice, if I may?"

Foxy nodded, dumbfounded, frantically scrambling for the contents of her pockets, searching for something with the agility of a panicking cat, more than half of the contents spilling out onto the ground.

Natasha unlocked the car, popping the trunk and loading in her bags as she raised her voice to be heard over the noise of a busy parking lot. "Don't mess with the paint, the insurance will cover it. Slash three tires - not four - or take a swing at the front bumper and the headlights," the trunk slid shut with a quiet click as the spy inspected the damages close-up. Her Charger looked like it was attacked by a pack of aggressive, feral cats with nails of steel. "And always check the number plates before committing acts of vandalism to make sure you're enacting revenge on the right person." The last part was said with a smirk.

As the spy stepped closer to Foxy, she noted the excessive puffiness of her cheeks and the shaking fingers that held a checkbook and a pen. The woman looked torn between terrified and apologetic, worrying her lip between her teeth. "I'm so, so sorry. Todd just got his new car, it's identical to yours and I didn't get the chance to memorize the number plate yet," the offending man's name was said with a pitiful growl. "How much?" She weakly motioned to the ruined bodywork.

"What'd he do?" Natasha didn't resist her curiousity, leaning against the driver's side door and sizing up the other woman. She was pretty, well-dressed and reasonably wealthy on the first sight. "Yeah, he looked like a Todd," The quip slipped from the redhead's lips as she remembered the man from earlier. Foxy looked way too good to be wasting her time on someone who looked like an adolescent that hadn't outgrown his skater boy phase.

Foxy chuckled shyly at Natasha's remark, smoothing a hand over her face. "Lord, where do I even begin..." The sigh was loud and long. "He lived in my apartment rent-free, made me give up my cat by lying about his allergies, went through nine low-wage jobs in two years, did nothing but play video games in his free time and developed a pot addiction, thus spending all his money on it," she began steadily but her tone grew in pitch with every added offence as Natasha's eyebrows climbed higher and higher. "My last straw was when he took out a loan he couldn't pay off to buy his brand new cool car," the words were spat out with venom. "I threw him out last Saturday. He's been following me around all the time," Foxy continued, growing dark in the face. "And then I found out he had been cheating on me for I don't know how long. I just... I just lost it," she finished pathetically, all but crumbling into a pile of human misery.

Natasha's face had frozen into mute disbelief somewhere around the first half of the story, repulsion and astonishment mixing into a flurry of quiet rage on the random woman's behalf. Menfolk were bizarre animals, and as much as the spy felt herself annoyed by her roommates at the tower, she couldn't help but feel relieved that the men surrounding her were far from douchebags of the casual variety. This Todd, however, was no amateur, and had done Foxy really, really dirty.

The redhead made up her mind rather quickly. "That's a lot to unpack," she carefully studied the micro-expressions on the other woman's face. "I have a couple of nice bottles of wine at my place and nobody to share them with. Care for a glass?"

Foxy's eyes widened once more. "I don't- I don't want to take up your time, I mean, I'm sure you've got more important shit to do, like save the world and y'know..." The stammering was followed by a shy look to the side.

So, Foxy had recognised her. And she didn't go running the other way like most people that encountered her in disadvantageous situations did. "I actually don't, I was just getting my shopping done for a lack of better things to do," Natasha lied seamlessly, motioning to the other side of the car. "Hop in." Mission reports and Barton's pizza date could wait.

The woman made quick way around, buckling into the seat in seconds, right before Natasha peeled off from the parking lot towards the Avengers tower at breathtaking speeds. The car was a gift from Tony - one of the rare things he managed to get right - and an absolute pleasure to drive.

"What's your name?" The redhead asked, juggling the steering and her smartphone effortlessly.

The woman rattled of her first and last name on between attempts to fix her runny make-up and wipe the dried snot and tears off her face. "Foxy is a nickname my gramps gave me, said I used to excessively play with fox pelts in the attic when I was a kid," the woman added with a snort, totally oblivious to Natasha's eyebrow raise as the spy read the information on her in-between overtaking slower cars.

Good student, good family life, stable income and good career growth in a prospective sector. What did Foxy even find in a guy like Todd? The most important information, however, was also most pleasing. No ties to any kind of intelligence gathering organizations.

As Natasha parked and popped the trunk once more, the other woman offered a hand with her shopping bags. Friday acknowledged the newcomer, startling her, causing Natasha to roll her eyes and mention, loudly, that if Tony decided to pay them a surprise visit, he may end up castrated or shot on sight, much to Foxy's bashful snickering.

Once the shopping was put away and the wine opened, the spy let herself curl up on the couch opposite the woman who studied her Spartan style apartment with curios eyes. The lack of knick knacks must've been a surprise for her: Natasha's apartment looked bare compared to what she'd seen in other's people's homes but the desire to make the environment more cozy had never been strong enough to actually act upon it. She wasn't used to staying in a place for very long.

"Do you still want to get back at the bastard?" The redhead asked once the first bottle was coming to an end. The alcohol was sitting low, pleasantly warm in their bellies and the food that they'd ordered in the middle of a casual chit-chat lulled them into a state of comfortable stupor.

"I want to gouge his eyes out and wear them as a battle trophy," Foxy was slightly slurring her words, much more affected by the wine than the stoic, experienced agent. "But I guess I can settle for petty crime or arson."

"I'm sensing you didn't tell me the whole list of grievances," true to her words, the spy felt as it there was a possibility quite a few things were being left unsaid.

Foxy sighed once again, placing the empty glass on the table and using her palm to prop her flushed face against it, blankly staring off into the far end of the room. "I came out as bisexual last year and he was giving me so much shit for it. Todd kept pushing for a threesome and when I refused, started accusing me of cheating during our fights, called me a whore a couple of times," the more she spoke, the higher Natasha's anger levels rose.

Not only was a Todd a dick, he was an abusive one. Truly, the grand prize of Asshat Lottery. "I have an idea or three," the spy twirled the remaining red liquid in her glass before downing it. "But it'll have to stay between us two."

"I'm listening," Foxy turned to meet Natasha's face, eyes considerably more alert than seconds before.

A few days past their amicable wine-and-revenge get-together, Natasha's doorbell rang as if she wasn't already had been made aware by Friday that a visitor was coming up to see her. Boxes of hair bleach and dye laid stacked on the living room table, surrounded by jewelry and assorted accessories. A pitcher of fresh sangria topped the ensemble, two clean glasses placed neatly on the tray next to it.

"Hi, Nat," Foxy's smile was a mile wide - a far cry from the sniffling sad sack of a woman the spy had first met. The nickname flowed freely from the woman's lips, as calm as Natasha's own answering grin and greeting. "I gots the stuff," waving her purse about, the woman kicked off her shoes by the door, approaching Natasha with the same smile that seemed to be more effective at lightening up the room than Tony's expensive designer lamps.

As Natasha's plan achieved a solid state, the two women had quickly come to a realization that Natasha was far too recognizable with her signature red hair and over a flurry of text messages, the decision to switch to a warm caramel blonde was made unanimously. Foxy had rebuked any and all Natasha's attempts to affirm she'd be able to do it herself and the spy gave into the other's chiding, relenting to have her hair dyed by a person who at least had a possibility of seeing the back of her head without having to perform acrobatic tricks.

Foxy was an easygoing, non-problematic person. She was fun to have around, quiet but witty, with intelligent eyes and a realistic view on the world. It was something Natasha valued, alongside the lack of probing questions regarding her past or her job - her insides clenched uncomfortably at the thought of having to lie about those things, or even worse, having to admit to the wrongdoings in her past, however Foxy carefully steered away from topics that were sensitive and never gave Natasha as much as a side-eye if the spy appeared to lack some minor detail that normal women her age all seemed to be aware of.

The curiosity had her ready to burst. Nat's natural defense mechanisms were quite confused, not sure what to make of the woman who almost too friendly to be true, but the kindness in her eyes and the sometimes shy, awestruck looks she gave Natasha when she thought the redhead wasn't looking made up for it in spades.

"What do you think?" The noise of the hair dryer finally ceased, Foxy's voice echoing in Natasha's luxuriously large bathroom.

The newly-blonde spy studied her reflection with a tilt to her head. The ombre was a nice touch - her own hair was naturally darker than the caramel and honey blonde she had chosen, so the almost-brown shading at her roots took much away from the contrast between her lighter hair and darker brows. It was just another disguise for the spy, but somehow, this one felt more like home than any of the previous faces she had worn.

"I like it, you were right about the ombre," Natasha voiced her thoughts, eyes sliding over to the smiling woman behind her, feeling the corners of her mouth begin to creep upwards in involuntary response.

"You looked good with red hair, don't misunderstand me," Foxy briefly raised her hands. "But you have a light complexion and lighter colors do wonders for bringing out the youthfulness. Even if we don't have much joy these days, a good hair color is an opportunity to showcase the bit," she briefly touched her own hair in an exaggerated attempt at driving her point home.

The fun part was done, the time came to execute the revenge. It wasn't exactly anything special; rather, the plan was quite simple - let Todd make a fool out of himself in front of his friends and perhaps (a slightly, teensy possibility) get himself arrested. The two women took their time to get dolled up, not too much - but rather, adding just that little bit to themselves to easily attract moderate amounts of attention from men.

The bar was busy, noisy and full of people when the two women stepped through the door. Natasha's eyes scanned the room out of habit, easily spotting the tall, lanky Todd in the far end of the bar, laughing and boozing with equally pathetic-looking man-children. The urge to gag was almost irresistible.

The spy let herself to be led to the bar by Foxy who looked mildly uncomfortable. Natasha was sure that if she was to touch the other woman's face, it would be flaming under the circumstances. "Try to relax a little, I won't bite," with a quip to her companion, Nat ordered them a vodka cranberry each, sitting down with her back to the men. "Tell me when he notices us and starts moving this way."

Foxy nodded minutely, clutching her drink for dear life and taking generous sips to calm herself down and relax like the spy had requested. They talked about everything and nothing in between, Natasha's hand on Foxy's knee crawling closer to her hip as minutes passed by without interruption. Loud noises of men playing darts and drunkenly cheering reached the womens earshot every now and then, causing Foxy to throw increasingly infuriated glances towards her ex-boyfriend and the Black Widow's current victim of choice.

Sitting opposite the perfectly composed, smiling woman, it was clear as day she was, indeed, best of the best. Despite knowing Foxy for only a few days, Natasha managed to pull off a very convincing girlfriend: her body language was nothing short of absolutely besotted and the googly eyes the spy was making had Foxy constantly remind herself that it was only for show. There was no way this gorgeous, incredible human would be interested in someone as plain and ordinary as herself.

"Heads up," Foxy's smile suddenly grew a mile wide as she stared directly at Natasha, eyes alight with fury at the scene about to unfold. Natasha's reply was to briefly tighten the grasp on the other's leg in silent support.

"Hey, baby," Todd was drunk enough for the stench of his breath to reach both women. "Oh, I see you're with a friend," his attempt at flirting only made Natasha scrunch up her face like a cat that accidentally smelled a lemon.

"Leave me alone," Foxy stated firmly, knowing the phrase wouldn't do anything to deter her overzealous ex, but this time - she counted on it.

"It's okay, I can share," the slurred words had a couple of people nearby raise their eyebrows at the audacity.

"I'm not interested," Foxy snapped. "In fact, there is absolutely nothing your freeloading, cheating ass can bring to my table."

The woman radiated satisfaction as gasps sounded out around them; Todd was a regular at this bar and most people there knew him in one way or another. The moment of joy, however, was brief.

"Listen, bitch, you have no business talking to me like that," full of drunken bravado, the man spat angrily, taking unsteady steps closer to Foxy. "What you need is a decent man that can handle your outbursts, not some dyke..." before he could even utter another offensive syllable, Natasha had his wildly gesturing arm twisted painfully behind his back, easily forcing the inebriated man to his knees.

"Wanna try that again, champ?" Sarcasm flowed freely from the spy's lips as the patrons in the bar gasped. The civilian clothing and the new hair color might have been an effective short-term disguise but once the crowd had seen her neat little party trick and had taken a good look at her face, nobody was doubting her identity. "Call the cops, will you?" She addressed the shocked bartender who immediately scrambled to obey.

"I didn't do anything!" Todd cried out, eyes drunkenly darting between the Black Widow's quiet rage and Foxy's grim stone face.

"Huh, that's weird. Because I clearly heard and saw an attempted hate crime," Natasha's voice attained a sardonic tint. "And I have a bar full of witnesses," the spy shrugged, letting go of his arm but keeping a boot firmly planted on his back to prevent him from escaping. "I hope you have a lawyer."

Foxy snorted, reaching for her unfinished second drink. "Tough luck."

Out of the corner of her eye, she spied Todd's friends inching closer to the exit door second by second, as if they could stand a chance against a professionally trained secret agent. Luckily for them, Natasha wasn't interested in the remainder of Todd's gang of losers and merely raised an eyebrow when the other men reached the door, a tiny smirk appearing when his pleading eyes didn't cause any reaction in his friends, the spineless worms, hopping out of the door without as much as a goodbye to the man laying face-down on the dirty floor.

As soon as the police arrived, awestruck by one of the NYC's most famous superheroes just casually standing in a bar, they eagerly collected the inebriated offender, briskly escorting Todd to the squad car. The bartender and several other patrons confirmed Natasha's words that an attempted hate crime had taken place. Cops were in and out in less than fifteen minutes and the otherwise-pleasant hole-in-the-wall bar returned to its usual evening bustle.

"Celebratory shots?" Natasha laughed as Foxy exhaled, deep and slow, once her racing heart calmed down.

"My treat," the other woman motioned for the bartender and soon, a line of colorful glasses appeared in front of the women. Each downed a glass easily, slamming it back on the table. "Man, this is everything I never knew I needed," Foxy confessed with a shy smile. "Thanks, Nat. You're the best."

The spy responded with a satisfied smile, picking up another glass and holding it out for a toast. "To revenge well-deserved," the glass clicked, alcohol slid easily down their throats. "So, what now?"

Foxy's eyes shone in the bright lights of the bar, relieved and tipsy. The small empty glass twirled easily between her fingers. "Dunno," the shrug came and went. "Maybe go on vacation. To Florida."

Natasha let out a belly laugh, downing her last shot without as much as a stutter in her movements, Foxy's eyes lingering on the stray drops of alcohol running from the spy's plump lips. "A vacation with the crackheads? Romantic," the quip was received with an eyeroll from the other woman.

"Spoilsport," Foxy, too, finished her booze and placed the money and a hefty tip on the bar, tapping twice to get the bartender's attention. "I meant more like - lay on the beach, sip mimosas, look at sexy people in swimsuits..."

"Florida is for old people," Natasha objected, pulling her leather jacket back on and leading them both outside. The evening air was crisp, bringing a clearer head and re-arranging the thoughts back into a more sensible state.

Foxy easily picked up her pace to match Natasha's precise strides leading them in the direction of the former's building. The warm buzz of vodka coupled with the fresh air and her desire for retribution well-fed, Foxy settled into a comfortable silence next to the spy. They reached the building quickly, their pace brisk and distractions lacking.

"Care for a nightcap?" She didn't know what prompted her to blurt out the words; as soon as the words registered in her brain, they were already out and Foxy's face heated, fingers fumbling for the keys in her pocket, Natasha's touch still warm and lingering on the side of her leg.

The spy seemed amused, studying Foxy's nervous habits with a crooked smirk. "Sure," she agreed amicably, following the woman into the apartment building, not missing both the rigidity of her back and the added spring to her step.

A moderately sized, well-decorated apartment revealed itself behind the open door, scarcely illuminated by the NYC lights coming in from a glass wall in the living room, reflecting the vast living space furnished with a large couch.

As soon as the door clicked shut, Natasha turned around, stepping into the other woman's personal space with the grace of a predator. Two shining eyes stared back at her in the darkness, framed by fluttering lashes. Foxy's bottom lip disappeared behind her teeth, skin gleaming with perspiration.

The recently-turned blonde spy wasted no time caging the other woman between her body and the door, chests almost touching. The air around them was charged, Foxy's heart thudding loudly in her chest as she gulped. Natasha studied her expression, "You want this?" she whispered against her lips, sharing the oxygen between them.

"Ye-yeah," a short nod and a gasp later, the women were devouring each other, grasping at their hands and shoulders like they were drowning. Hot and wet and sharp from the booze, the kisses were as graceless as their fingers haste in removing each other's top layers of clothing.

The sharp corner of the living room archway dug painfully into Foxy's back, bringing an additional sense of awareness: this was real. This was happening. Natasha's blonde locks flowed through Foxy's fingers, soft and silky, a contrast to the teeth pulling on her lip in impatient hunger. Foxy grunted in response, parting from the other woman to send her t-shirt flying somewhere in the direction of the kitchen.

"Bedroom," mere minutes in and she already sounded utterly and throughly ruined.

"Couch," Natasha was equally feverish to get to the good parts. Her belt was unbuckled and the nice button-up she'd worn hung open, a plain white bra iriscendent on her alabaster skin.

Letting herself be led to the couch, Foxy could barely take her eyes off the woman in front of her, making sure she wasn't ogling Natasha outright yet secretly hoping to be caught anyway. The blonde was like a porcelain doll, unreal, firm and soft at the same time.

The moment Foxy gracelessly landed on the couch, Natasha was all up in her space, straddling the other woman with the grace of a savage cat; lips once more attached to her flesh, Natasha left a trail of hot, wet marks starting at the jawline and ending at the cups of Foxy's bra.

Not knowing what to do with her hands, Foxy grasped Natasha's hips, unable to hold back a moan heavy with lust as the spy ground down with her hips. It was exhilarating to see the other woman affected by their heavy make-out session; nothing short of absolutely smitten to see Natasha pull back, panting and disheveled, to shed her shirt and her bra.

Unable to resist the urge, Foxy's hands reached out to cup the spy's round breasts, tugging her closer to pop a rosy nipple into her mouth. Natasha shivered, arching into the caress, holding onto the other woman's hair and tugging it in the direction only she knew.

Natasha wasn't loud, she wasn't wild; her moans were more like muted gasps but her body spoke for her louder than any words: the grinding was getting more impatient, Natasha's hold grew stronger. As Foxy fumbled for the button of Nat's pants, she felt the soft, delicate lace underneath. Natasha had come prepared.

"Hold on," the spy mumbled, hopping off Foxy's lap to quickly push her pants and panties down her legs with practiced ease. The other woman followed suit, leaving herself to be bare besides her underwear, the attempt to remove them intercepted by Natasha. "Let me," quiet words tickled the skin of her throat where Nat had immediately attached her mouth.

Foxy scrambled to intake the oxygen she needed, letting herself feel the hot glide fully, having lost herself in pleasure, missing the exact moment Nat's fingertips breached the waistband of her panties. Soft and nimble, so different to a man's roughened skin, the sensation was as strange as it was sweet. The urge to arch and rock her hips against the nearest surface intensified and Foxy could only keen, quiet and high, causing Natasha to chuckle to herself.

"Enjoying yourself, sweet girl?" The miniscule trace of coyness seeped into the blonde's voice. The engorged, puffy, moist flesh of Foxy's lower lips parted eagerly to Natasha's experimental dip.

"Yeah, yes," the woman slid down, spreading her legs in invitation. "Please, touch me," begging to be filled in all the empty spaces, Foxy threw her head to rest against the back of the couch, watching Nat through unfocused eyes.

"Oh, I will," the spy purred, sliding lower to put her face next to Foxy's dripping cunt. The spy's fingers glistened with arousal and she popped them into her mouth, licking them clean before doing the same to her lover's swollen folds. The response was instantaneous and loud, Foxy shook under Natasha's expert teasing. "Stay still," she ordered quietly, patting Foxy's belly.

Molten, honeyed waves of bliss overtook common sense and awareness, tiny sparks shooting up Foxy's cunt every time Natasha suckled at her clit. The spy read her body like an open book, following the movements of her hips with her mouth, always a step ahead and slightly south. Foxy's peak was imminent, approaching rapidly, as Natasha's sweet merciless assault wrung every single drop of the thick, precious liquid out of her cunt.

It only seemed to gush more, the woman pushing her cunt into Natasha's face as the latter doubled down on her efforts to bring her to ecstasy.

The waves began deep in the pit of Foxy's stomach, making her legs tremble, her toes curl and the flutters of her cunt increase in speed and intensity. Silky soft and typhoon wet, her orgasm crashed her mind into million pieces and Nat dutifully extracted everything until the last drop with the skillful touch of her tongue and fingers.

"Tash," Foxy moaned. Her legs quivered at the slightest touch to her oversensitive cunt.

"Mhm," was the blonde's reply, contented humming getting closer and closer until the womens lips met once more in a fierce, passionate kiss.

Foxy's hands immediately sought purchase on Natasha's hips, searching for the spots that would make the spy's body song in the same way she'd done to Foxy; seemingly much more reserved, quiet but happy sighs broke past Nat's lips in response to gentle hands stroking where she was most sensitive.

"I've got a vibe in my bedroom," clarity finally broke through the orgasm haze, Foxy's brain slowly coming back to reality.

"No, I want your fingers," Natasha's reply was assertive as she moved her hips in tandem with Foxy's hand, dripping the sweetness of her around all over.

The urge to pop the fingers into her mouth was strong, so Foxy did just that, moaning at the tangy taste, Natasha's breath quietly stuttering at the sight in front of her.

"I want to eat you out," the words barely had left Foxy's mouth as Natasha flipped them so she was the one laying on the couch, spread-eagled and open for the other woman's eager mouth to explore. Wet, sloppy and so, so tender, Foxy let herself taste the arousal of her lover.

"Yeah," so soft, one could easily miss it, the approval didn't get lost in the headrush nonetheless. With grace, Foxy sought the spots that would force Natasha to break her silence with slow, broad motions until the blonde had no choice but to arch her hips into the sensations, chasing her pleasure, losing the aura of restraint she'd so carefully cultivated.

No time for self-control. The temperatures were climbing steadily with every single movement, both lost in their imperfect shared rhythm, the soft of Foxy's tongue and fingers like finest silks on Natasha's eager cunt. Two fingers slipped in without resistance, immediately seeking out the soft, spongy spot that made the blonde's toes curl and mouth open in a silent scream.

Foxy's free hand groped around for Natasha's ass hastily, bringing her hips closer to her mouth, tongue never ceasing its assault on the blonde's clit as her body grew more rigid, fingertips going white with the force she was gripping the comforter.

"Gospodi bozhe," came the mumble, the only warning before Natasha's powerful thighs locked Foxy in place as the blonde rode out her orgasm, violently shivering, dousing the other woman's face in her sweet release. Dutifully, Foxy stroked the silk of Natasha's skin everywhere she could reach, her hot breath on the blonde's pussy easing her back to Earth through the aftershocks.

Natasha's eyes opened, feeling her lover's look of adoration, and she cracked a reluctant but genuine smile. There was something about Foxy that was just so-

Natasha taglist (open, see fic hat for info; crossed out nicknames are the ones I couldn't tag, please update your info):

@mikariell95 @letsby @sleep-i-ness @toomanyrobins @persephonehemingway @bluecrazedandbeautiful @slothspaghettiwrites @xoxabs88xox @marvelsbanner @sapphicnoodle69

#bun writes #bun writes: drabbles #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x y/n #black widow x female reader #black widow smut #black widow x reader

[cavehags]

wait what do u think would happen if richmond fc crash landed on yellowjackets mountain (or like the UK equivalent i guess)

oh my godddd okay. timeline-wise, let's say this happens to the ted lasso guys around mid-s1, after dani has arrived but before jamie gets sent back to manchester. so the gang's all here except for jan maas (sorry jan i love u girl). and rebecca, keeley, and higgins flew separately. sorry :(

the plane goes down, and ted doesn't panic. right away, he springs into action from his seat in the front of the cabin. he turns around and immediately he's ushering everyone off who can walk and pairing people up to help each other. they only have one frantic minute, maybe two, but they make it count. roy's leg was pinned by the bar cart, so sam and moe bend down to free him. dani all but carries nate off the plane. beard makes quick work of checking the cockpit to see if he can do anything to help the pilots, and when he comes across a bloody and unsalvageable mess, he closes the cockpit door to keep anyone else from seeing it before hustling off to help the survivors.

there are a lot of injuries, but mostly cuts and bruises. in a stroke of especially bad luck, nate has what looks like a broken right arm and a sprained left ankle, leaving him quite helpless. roy's leg is in even worse shape, mostly skinned from the knee down. after beard spends some hours sewing up the gash (rip to the numerous shirts that gave their lives to blot roy's bleeding), his captain's armband is repurposed as a grim bandage over the part of the injury that wasn't quite so bad as to require stitches. putting any weight on the leg at all is out of the question.

beard is the team's de facto doctor and nurse. at one point roy even protests that his sister is a doctor so he knows his way around a wound. ted very kindly shushes him so that beard can work.

two teammates from the reserve squad didn't survive, plus the two pilots. they have a memorial the first night.

no one has any cell service, so it's agreed that everyone will keep their phones off to preserve battery. each day, ted picks two of the players to trek out in a different direction and go just a little bit farther than their teammates went the day before before turning their phones on to see what they get. it's understood that this whole routine can only last a week at max before the turned-off phones die for good, so the exercise feels really grim. to counter that, ted tries to make it fun, challenging each day's hikers to do some ridiculous fitness challenge when they're out on their own. it actually has the desired effect. inevitably, doing pull-ups from a tree branch while singing out one's teammate's football chant will make anyone laugh. the effects on team morale are modest, but they are felt.

sleeping outside isn't comfortable for anyone. roy is horrified to realize that his injury means he can't walk to a private area to wash up or use the bathroom, and not for lack of trying. he urges the rest of the team to move the main camp further away so that his space can be just his own. instead of abandoning their captain while he's nursing a traumatic injury (good idea though roy!), the team work together to create a privacy barrier for roy. he's touched, but he curses at them in miserable gratitude.

due to the obscene amount of lucozade sport the team had onboard, the question of fresh water doesn't come up right away. when it does, it's almost an accident; jamie and richard were on their daily cell service check when they stumbled upon a lake. unbeknownst to jamie and richard, ted had hesitated to pair them up together, or frankly to send either of them out at all, knowing that neither one is overly endowed with sense--but ruling out all the dumbest players would be a slippery slope till there was no one left, so he did. it is unfortunate, then, that they were the ones who happened to find the lake, because getting back to camp takes nearly all of their collective brain cells. finding their way back to the lake with the rest of the team and all their kit takes a solid three days, and that's with the added benefit of beard's tracking skills to speed up the process. that's three days to replicate a walk that took under four hours the first time. there are many wrong turns. roy, who has to lean on isaac in order to walk and hates every second of it, nearly throttles jamie after an hour-long detour downhill through the mud ends with him falling on his face. after that, it's another whole day of walking before they finally reach water and roy gets to wash up.

they don't make it there until just after dark on the third day, so they camp on the beach for the night. (wary to sleep out in the open after his poor sense of direction nearly compelled a mud-splattered roy to murder him in cold blood, jamie sleeps between colin and isaac for security. they're not feeling too keen on him either--but jamie doesn't think they'd let him die.)

in the morning, dani wakes everyone up by shouting about god and sunlight the coming of rescue. everyone blearily rubs sleep out of their eyes before they realize that he's talking about a glint of light reflecting off of something shiny in the trees. ted has gotten it into everyone's heads by now that that they don't go running off without the buddy system, so dani waits until thierry begrudgingly gets to his feet before sprinting off toward the light, thierry trotting behind him at a more moderate pace.

when they return, dani insists that it's not rescue, but everyone still must follow them out to the light right away. "what's out there, fellas?" ted asks, to which dani just responds in a reverent whisper, "outlets."

there are indeed outlets in the cabin and a mad dash ensues during which everyone with an iphone charger races to commandeer one for himself. ted looks at beard and beard back at ted. "it's starting to look like one of those black friday stampedes," ted observes, with a tone that implies "should i call it off?" beard takes control of the situation by informing them all that if they blow the generator, there'll be no more phones for potentially a lot longer than they've already gone without. it's agreed that one person may charge his phone at a time, on a rotation to be determined by nate the great, and the daily cell service check will become more of a constant shared duty than a revolving chore.

that day, they get comfortable and pick places to sleep and take a bunch of ussies on dani's phone (the first to be charged up, which everyone agrees is more than fair). it's not until jamie howls "my hair looks shit, don't post that!" that they all remember they're in the wilderness.

ted quietly charges his phone every night, blue light lighting up his face as he watches videos of henry when everyone else is asleep. sometimes, beard will sit up with him and appear to be reading a book in insomniac solidarity until he says something like "he's a really good climber" or "he could do legos at the competitive level, you know." at every mention of henry, ted's heart explodes with gratitude.

the team are vegetarians for, like, a while. although the lack of protein is throwing off the players' meal plan, no one is exactly eager to pick up the gun they find in the house and point it at something. isaac says something about how how gaffer's the american, after all, he should know his way around a gun--but beard shoots him a hard look before he can say that again in ted's earshot, and indeed, ted never touches the thing. beard knows ted's triggers well enough to know that a loaded gun would be... well, a loaded gun, as far as ted's psychology is concerned.

roy is doing pretty badly with the whole being-incapacitated thing. being old and slow was bad enough, but not being able to walk unaided is a final humiliation that he doesn't think he can live with. when dani surprises him with a gift he found in the woods that turns out to be a bit of wood he whittled into the shape of a cane, roy loses it. he thanks dani through gritted teeth (because not even roy kent can bring himself to shout at dani rojas), and with the help of the horrifyingly useful gift, hobbles outside and lumbers around in the woods for a couple hours until sundown. when he returns, he drags behind him a pig that he killed by strategically falling on top of it. ("so you could say you made your injury work for you, if you feel like looking at a silver lining," ted tells him with an air of forced cheer. roy growls at him, which is pretty much what ted expected.)

roy and nate make miserable eye contact around the bonfire while everyone else eats roast pork. finally roy caves and reaches for a piece, eyeing nate like "i won't tell if you won't."

after a while, roy starts to heal, but the damage he did to his opposite knee from hobbling around on his good leg doesn't seem like it's going away. for a while, he keeps the cane buried under his bed for the sake of his pride (because yes, being the oldest and the most injured means he got a bed, and he tries hard to appreciate that as the gift that it is to not have to sleep on the floor instead of being furious and embarrassed about it). but the more he's able to walk without it most of the time, the more he recognizes that simply having the cane on him would give him peace of mind for the moments when his knee spasms and suddenly he can't. also, and he's prepared to admit this bit to the first person to ask him about it--it's bloody useful when it comes to bashing whatever animal he's found to serve them all for dinner. so he keeps hunting and he keeps the cane.

there's a night when they all get high on mushrooms (on purpose; sam finds them and presents them to beard, who recognizes the genus and gets the whole team's consent before putting them in some tea. sam personally abstains and decides to act as more of a chaperone). it ends up being really chill, actually. mostly they just share some secrets and talk about death.

high on mushrooms, jamie and roy babble about how much they miss keeley. at some point, the babbling turns into sobbing in each other's arms. watching them with wide eyes, sam dares to think that the two rivals might finally be coming to some kind of understanding.

there are fights sometimes--like the day jamie nearly takes colin's head off for nicking the last of his pomade--but nothing rises to urgent levels. mostly, arguments are settled with words while ted mediates.

there's not much cult stuff, either--while the entire team would admit to believing in ghosts, and that skeleton they found crumbling in the loft was nobody's favorite part of the house, the closest thing they have to cultlike devotion to anything is their appreciation for the screeners of lust conquers all that jamie has downloaded on his phone. ("they keep calling me asking me to be on it! had to see what it was about, didn't i?") it's not great telly, but at least it's something to watch if they all cluster around and stay very, very quiet. when they reach the end of the batch of episodes jamie has saved, they're all in a bit of a mood about not knowing how the season ends--but roy is able to solve that problem by relaying the finale to them, eliciting gasps in all the right places. the mums he did yoga with were very faithful to their telly schedule.

overall, it's tough being stuck out there, but they're alive, and they have ted and beard to care for them emotionally and quasi-medically, and they have their phones, which offer a lot of very welcome distractions even if none of them involve communication. one day sam finds an open clearing where they can play football, and that's a game changer--they play reserves versus starters, with ted and nate filling in the gaps on the reserve side and beard playing for roy. with the addition of football to their little routine, life out there starts to just feel like living.

and no one eats anyone. okay this post is 2,000 words long so BYE!

#ted lasso #this is. so fucking long lol #xoxox hope u like and hope it was worth the wait! #oh and tw for hunting (animal death) and a small description of a bad injury

[vkookjamz]

⋆☽Kitten☾⋆

|| Prologue. 1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. 9. 10. 11. 12. 13.

| 𝐽𝑢𝑛𝑔𝑘𝑜𝑜𝑘 𝑥 𝐶𝑎𝑡-𝐻𝑦𝑏𝑟𝑖𝑑 𝐹𝑒𝑚𝑎𝑙𝑒 𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟 |

"𝘉-𝘉𝘢𝘣𝘺 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭..?"

𝘑𝘶𝘯𝘨𝘬𝘰𝘰𝘬'𝘴 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘬𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘯. 𝘈𝘭𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩, 𝘰𝘥𝘥𝘭𝘺 𝘦𝘯𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩, 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴𝘯'𝘵 𝘢 𝘬𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦..

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

Y/n's POV

It was about a week since you all went out to eat dinner, unfortunately since then, a few things seemed to change as for ways of life at the dorm.

Well, life meaning you and Jungkook's relationship again.

Currently you were with Namjoon in the living room, talking together while watching 'Beastars' on Netflix as some of the others were either out, or in their own rooms.

"He is starting to avoid me a bit again, not in like a bad way but he seems almost- shy?" you frowned.

"I kinda noticed- it seems as if he got that way right after we got you your clothes and he actually saw you in them. He's even a little awkward around us when we mention you to him" he shrugged keeping his eyes on the tv screen.

"I don't know what I did though- he just got all weird" you pouted with a sigh, your ears dropping to the sides of your head.

You and Jungkook still stayed with his hyungs rather than his own apartment, and anytime you questioned him about going back he would act strangely and simply say it was 'better to stay here'

Not that you didn't enjoy being with them all, it was just you missed you and Jungkook's one on one time. But for some reason it seemed as though now he couldn't even be in the same room alone with you.

Namjoon couldn't hide the smile that spread over his face as he shook his head with a chuckle. "Jungkook is just nervous around girls, he doesn't really know how to act"

You sighed again turning your head to see Jimin come from out of his room, rubbing his eyes as he walked towards you with a soft short laugh. "Yeah don't take it too personally y/n, he may seem intimidating but trust me he's a man child" he smiled resting his hands on your shoulders squeezing them gently.

You let out another loud sigh, leaning your head against Jimin's arm as you began to think.

That surely couldn't be true could it? What about that incident in the dressing room you both shared? Now you KNOW you definitely didn't dream that up.

The way he treated you before, when he first saw you as an actual girl- hybrid..

He acted as if he was about to devour you at any wrong movement you made. And now you're expected to believe that same guy- the one that pressed you up against the wall, eyed you like a meal, and even requested for you to call him "daddy" was just shy??

"Speaking of Jungkook, where is he anyways?" Jimin tilted his head looking around.

"I think he went out with Yoongi to get some lamb skewers, they could either come back soon or completely late- there's no telling with with those two" Namjoon chuckled.

"Well who else is home?? Just us three?" you asked letting your brows form a frown as you sat up.

"Jin-Hyung went out for groceries but he'll be back soon-" Jimin replied.

Namjoon let his lips form a small 'o' as he nodded remembering, "Didn't Tae go with him?"

The younger shook his head, "No- Tae wanted to go with him, but then Jin said, 'yah you aren't coming with me just so I can have you throw random shit in the cart, you eat what I buy or you STARVE' and then Tae had a tantrum and fell to the floor whining- then Jin watched him for a few minutes then left"

"So then where's Taehyung now-"

"I'm over here-" Taehyung said from the kitchen floor, causing the three of you to stand glancing along the bottom side of the kitchen counter, observing the male as he laid flat on his back watching his phone above him that he held with both hands.

"Tata have you been laying there the whole time?" you pouted going over to squat down beside him, running your fingers through his soft dyed grey-blonde locks.

He perked up finally receiving the long desired attention, pursing his lips in a tight smile as he hummed sitting up with his legs crossed. "Yeah and it took you guys long enough.." Tae huffed as you continued to stroke his head.

"Wait is Hobi here too?" you looked up to Jimin, parting his lips he was about to respond just as the back door opened, revealing the light brown haired male. His brows knitted together in what looked like confusion as he looked down at a piece of paper shortly shoving it into his pocket after glancing to notice you all.

"What were you doing outside? Having a competition with the sun to see who's the hottest again?" Jimin chuckled earning a slightly disappointed head tilt from Namjoon as he let his attention go back to the television.

"Oh, uh no" Hoseok chuckled shaking his head once as he tucked both of his hands in his pockets.

"So then what were you doing hyung?" Taehyung pouted his lips out a bit looking at the other with puppy eyes, causing you to smile as you stood pulling him up along with you.

"Nothing- I just thought I heard something is all- Hey Namjoon can you come with me for a minute, I wanna show you a tiny crab- that's the exact same color of koya-" Hoseok mentioned waving Namjoon over.

You watched as the tall boy nodded quickly getting up after pausing his show, striding over and disappearing into Hoseok's studio with him.

"Guess it's just us now huh princess?" Taehyung winked wrapping an arm around you, glancing over at Jimin who smiled slipping his own arm over your shoulder as well, at the opposite side to Tae.

Pursing your lips together you blushed looking between the two of them. "So what should we do boys?"

Jungkook's POV

"Hyung how could you even say that I'm not gonna-" My words were cut off, a phone beeping with several notifications as Yoongi raised his finger holding it up to me as his free hand went rummaging into his pocket.

Since when was he so popular? And since when did he even start answering his phone?

I scowled scrunching my nose. "Hyung how could you answer a text right now- you're supposed to be helping me! Whenever me or Jin-Hyung spammed you in the past you never answered!"

The older male sat up finally retrieving his phone with a sigh as he looked back to me with his own lazy nose scrunch in return to mine, clearing his throat as he looked down to his own phone screen.

"Well, I have you and the other members notifications to have different sounds. So for example I know Hoseok is the one that just spammed me" He pursed his lips furrowing his brows in concentration.

"So you answer to Hoseok and not the rest of us?!" I scoffed.

Suddenly Yoongi's face laced with worry as he got up randomly, "We have to go-" he spoke shortly placing his phone down to look at his surroundings. Letting me watch just sitting confused as he quickly started to gather his things, raising his brows towards me once he noticed I wasn't following.

"Jungkook we have to go NOW, we can't talk about it here we have to go" He spoke lowly yet in a panicked tone, pulling on the sleeve of my shirt to get me to move.

"What- Why?? Hyung- we barely finished our-" Getting cut off for the second time, I couldn't even finish my sentence as Yoongi grabbed his phone to shove it in front of my face while he looked around warily.

It was Hoseok's messages.

호석: Hyung!

호석: I was outside checking the mail since I heard the truck go by and there was nothing- but on the doorstep when I came back to go in there was a note-

호석: Namjoon and I think it's them again, the ones Jungkook-ah was getting messages from-

호석: [attached-file]

Clicking on the image, I saw it was a picture of the note in Namjoon's hand, when I read it I felt my brows knit together in anger.

"Grocery shopping for her now? Pointless. She's already entering stage one. You're not going to be sorry until you all end up dead, I said you have to get rid of her. Don't think we aren't watching."

I looked up at Yoongi blankly, my face unable to process an expression to the words. I stood up getting ready to leave the restaurant before his phone got another notification, causing us to both now look at the screen. Our stomachs twisting once realization hit us at Hoseok's words.

호석: Hyung- the note wasn't there when Jin left..

호석: they are AT the store.

호석: they are watching Jin.

A/n: 👉🏻👈🏻

-ⓙ

#bts #bts fanfic #bts ff #bts fic #bts hybrid au #bts hybrid smut #bts x reader #cat girl #cat hybrid #jungkook ff #jungkook hybrid #jungkook fanfic #jungkook #jungkook fic #jungkook x reader #min yoongi #kim namjoon #kim taehyung #kim seokjin #jung hoseok #park jimin #jeon jungkook #kitten #hybrid #namjoon #jin #hoseok #taehyung #yoongi #jimin

[katedrakeohd]

What Happens in Paris (6a)

[Masterlist]

Author's note / Synopsis : So far this story has all been from Kate's point of view. This sixth installment is going to switch between characters. Each point of view is going to be posted separately so that it doesn't become confusing. We're starting out with Kate and her late arrival to Breakfast.

Word count: 1307

...

Kate

By the time I make it down to the dining car for Breakfast there's no doubt I was late. Instead of sitting down at tables, everyone is standing around talking when I get there. I catch Maxwell's eye first and he hurries over to my side.

"Where's Drake?" He whispers.

I shrug, "I don't know. Probably getting dressed." 

At the sound of my voice, Madeleine turns away from her conversation with Liam and scowls at me. "Well if it isn't Little Miss Casual. It took you this long to come down for Breakfast and that's all you could come up with?"

I glance down at my t-shirt and blue jeans, "Sorry, I didn't know having Breakfast on a train required a certain dress code."

"You're on a Royal Engagement tour, not some college road trip. Do you have no sense of decorum? If you're going to continue travelling around with the Royal Court, I expect a little more effort. Honestly, I don't know what Liam or the Beaumont's see in you. As if the scandal that's following you around wasn't trashy enough."

Her words stung, but before I could come up with a reply, Maxwell was wrapping his arm around my shoulders and leading me away. "Don't listen to her, Little Blossom, you're beautiful in whatever you're wearing."

Madeleine rolls her eyes and tucks her hand into Liam's elbow, "Come, Sweetheart. I want you to help me choose the best ensemble for Regina's tea party this afternoon. As the Queen to be, I don't want to be upstaged by anyone."

Liam glances my way with a look of sadness, and then turns his attention back to Madeleine, forcing a smile. "Nonsense, I'm sure whatever you choose to wear, you'll be a vision to behold."

Kiara and Penelope follow them out as they leave, whispering amongst themselves and not bothering to acknowledge me. I stare at their backs and feel even more removed from their world. 

Hana's cheerful voice breaks through my feelings of embarrassment, and I relax a little. "Don't worry, Kate. Between Maxwell and I we'll make sure you fit in beautifully at the tea party today."

"Thanks Hana, I appreciate your never ending kindness. You make being at court with Madeleine more tolerable."

"What did I miss?" Drake asks as he joins us in the dining car. 

I turn to him and smirk sarcastically, "Besides my literal dressing down by Madeleine, followed by watching her lead poor Liam out of here like a puppy on a leash?"

Drake looks relieved as he slides into one of the booths and picks up the menu card, "Phew, dodged that bullet this morning. What's for Breakfast?"

Maxwell makes a deliberate motion to prevent me from sitting beside Drake by putting himself into the booth beside him. Drake rolls his eyes, and then turns back to looking at the menu. As I slide into the booth across from Drake, I see Maxwell wince at something Drake has done to him under the table.

I shoot Drake a warning glance, and then he sighs and shifts closer to the window to give Maxwell more space. Hana seems to miss all of this as she sits down next to me. She smiles and addresses Drake across the table.

"Are you coming to the tea party this afternoon Drake?"

He scoffs, "Fancy finger sandwiches, pretty little cakes, and dainty cups of tea? I'll pass."

"The whole Royal Court will be there, including Kate." Maxwell adds.

Drake looks at me from across the table, "Do I have to dress up?"

Maxwell answers, "Not really. It's entirely up to you."

"I guess if Darling has to go, I better go too." He sighs. "It's not like I had anything better to do this afternoon. What time is the party?”

“Three o’clock," Hana answers.

"And what time is it now?"

Maxwell checks his phone, "It's 10:25."

Drake frowns at me and then rolls his eyes and shakes his head. We've missed Breakfast. I give him a little apologetic shrug and he smirks back.

Next to us Hana and Maxwell are chatting away about the venue for today's tea party. He shows her a picture on his phone. "...ooh, what a pretty color scheme. It reminds me of the tea parties I dreamed of having as a child."

Only Hana would have tea party fantasies. But then again I didn't grow up dreaming of becoming a Princess or a Queen someday.

Bending and warping the menu card in his hands impatiently, I see Drake glance over at the table across from us. It hasn't been cleared of its dishes yet. He was obviously hungry, and being trapped on the inside of the booth was making him antsy. I feel bad for holding him up so long this morning and making him miss eating with everyone else.

From where I'm sitting, I see one of the kitchen staff wheeling in a cart with a deep plastic tray on top, and I realize she's coming in to clear the tables. When I see her pick up a basket of pastries I wave at her to get her attention. "Excuse me! Could we have that basket?"

She looks startled at first. "Oh, sure. I didn't realize there was anyone still here." 

When she brings it over, I can see Drake's eyes light up with gratitude. "I don't suppose the galley is still serving coffee?" He asks, as Hana passes the basket my way.

The kitchen girl smiles, "Certainly, sir. I'll bring down a carafe right away."

After she leaves, Drake elbows Max, "Ok, move it buddy. If there are any more baskets of goodies left in the dining car I'm claiming them for me and Darling."

Max stumbles out of the seat just in time as Drake barrels out after him. Hana laughs as she watches the two of them scavenge for any untouched jams and spreads and baskets of bread and then bring them back to the table. 

As Drake and I access the spoils of their table raid, Hana raises her eyebrows. "I thought Maxwell usually woke you up early enough to make it down for Breakfast. How late did the bachelor party go last night? Oh, and did you get the chance to confront Bastien?"

"Well…" I start, glancing at Max and Drake and wait for one of them to jump in. 

"Our time at the party kind of got cut short by Bastien...and Bertrand…" Maxwell says.

"..and Drake losing his temper." I finish, feeling horrible for stirring up his pain all over again.

I notice that Drake's jaw is clenched tightly, and his mouth is set in a grim line as he grumbles, tearing off pieces of bread and throwing them into a basket. "Yeah, well you'd be pissed off too if you'd found out your sister had been knocked up and then tossed aside by a God damn pretentious prick. And the man you've looked up to for half your life has conspired to ruin the reputation of the woman you love."

Max and I share a look of shock, realizing what Drake has just admitted.

"Awww Drake, I wanted to tell Hana." Maxwell says, with disappointment.

"Tell her what?" Drake asks, smearing jam on a piece of croissant. 

I reach across the table and swipe the remainder of his Breakfast pastry with a grin, "About us, honey."

Drake drops his butter knife to the table, and then shoves the sticky morsel into his mouth. "Well, shit. I guess the secret is out then."

Hana gushes with happiness and pulls me into a hug, "Oh my gosh, Kate. I'm so happy for you two. Drake has a reason to smile now."

"Nah, uh." Drake says with a smirk, and then frowns to cover it. "No smiles until I get my coffee."

::.

tagging: @jovialyouthmusic @sirbeepsalot @emceesynonymroll @emichelle @mskaneko @speedyoperarascalparty @dcbbw @drakeandcamilleofvaltoria @pedudley @kingliam2019 @kimmiedoo5 @gardeningourmet @drakesensworld @mfackenthal @thequeenchoices @debramcg1106 @fluffy-marshmallow-heart @wickedgypsymoon @griselda1121 @indiacater @texaskitten30 @nikkis1983 @lynne1993 @bobasheebaby @drakesfiance @ravenpuff02 @moonlightgem7 @princessleac1 @janezillow @jlpplays1 @walker7519 @drakesensworld @furiousherringoperatortoad @samihatuli @fromthedeskofpaisleybleakmore @rainbowsinthestorm @burnsoslow @bbrandy2002 @jessiembruno @msjpuddleduck @princess-andromeda-nazario @princess-geek

#drake walker #choices #what happens in paris

[silverypurple-rosedlions]

Entry #357 - Him

Wen Junhui's Entry

━━━━━━☓━━━━━━

"Should we post this?..."

"Jun wanted this posted for his sake, no matter what... It's the least we can do for him,"

"Well, it was scheduled for today, and Jun stated he wanted it to be so... Alright. Have it posted."

━━━━━━☓━━━━━━

━━━━━━☓━━━━━━

I don't know why I'm writing this... Perhaps for closure on my mind? Most likely. But, perhaps, it's also to record thoughts and feelings that I might forget sometimes, needing a reminder later on. But, today was the day I received a gift. A proper goodbye, and a story that brought me to tears and to dream of things I'm not sure I'll ever get to have with him. But, it's nice to see that it could have been an option one day. To move in together, loving and cherishing each other... But, I guess I can only dream of it now since I'm not sure he'll come back. Or, if any of them will come back.

But, it happened when I was with Minghao and Jeonghan hyung. We were eating and talking together, just like usually. Minghao and I were talking in Chinese, while Jeonghan just smiled, now and then checking his phone to check on the members. Then, Jeonghan hyung looked at me with wide eyes, but then he smiled so bright at me. It astonished Minghao and I, both of us wanting to know what it was. Then he said: "Jun should have the benefit of seeing his gift someone has sent him,"

Of course, I smiled and laughed, wondering who would send me a gift. At first, I thought it was a specific, sweet and kind-hearted empress we had came close with, who checked in us whenever she could. Or maybe it was the kind and gentle koala, Felix, wanting to ensure I was fine. But when Jeonghan hyung handed me his phone and I saw what it was, and especially who it came from, I gave him back the phone, covered my hand over my mouth, then removed it, saying, "Are you playing a prank on me? Tell me right now." And, of course, Jeonghan hyung chuckled and shook his head, confirming that it was real. No hallucinations, none of the boys wouldn't dare to do a thing to me, and that it was from them despite him not reading it. So, I read it. And I read his last message to me.

You wouldn't believe the amount of tears I cried. Even thinking back has me shakily writing and crying. But it doesn't hurt like it used to. Not like when I used to cry every night, wondering what to do, how he was, and questioning countless things that made me so scared to get up. But after receiving it, being able to get his last message to me and receive the closure I desperately needed, I can finally accept it. I can accept that it wasn't me who drove him away, or, whatever bizzare thoughts had been created in this corrupted brain of mine.

However, it makes me reminisce about what we did together and what we had said. I remember, a memory that's becoming slightly foggy, when him and the boys came to assist us when the system had been breached. I remember how he came with everyone to help us, getting us all back together despite the gruesome fight that followed. But I remember how he soothed me, talking softly with him when my episode had occurred. I remember him hugging me, comforting me, and us laughing despite the situation when I had came up with the idea of us being awkwardly weird buddies. And after that, I wondered about him: What was he like? What was his story? His dreams? His likings and dislikes? What did he see in me? . . . What was that tight feeling in my chest whenever I thought about him?

Then, the more we talked, him and I, the tight pressure in my chest grew, but it wasn't unbearable. It wasn't uncomfortable. Almost, pleasant? My heart would race, and my cheeks would hurt because I would smile so much when he was around. But, I slowly tried to withdrawal back when he had grown attraction for someone else. I remember that. I was scared, and I didn't understand why it made me sad when I saw his post. The boys didn't notice me, and I don't blame them because I played it off and wished the best for him. I encouraged him, trying to cheer him up. Even though I didn't understand my own feelings, I knew that was in some sort of pain. But, I hoped, despite that pain, that his feelings would be reciprocated. But, in the end, later, I found out that he no longer had those feelings, and both were just friends.

But after that, I didn't look at him the same way. And, perhaps I never did after the incident at the base. However, I understood that I favored him from the others. Not like a mother who favored one child over the other, but, someone who adored him more, but still cared for the others equally. I recall the time I came into Jeonghan and Joshua hyungs' room, almost having a break down because I didn't understand. But, they comforted me and talked with me for hours until they made it clear: I liked Jeon Wonwoo. But I could never tell him that. Not that I didn't want to, but I wanted to get to know him more than I already did. Then, the rebrand happened. He was still the same person we knew, but, there was more to him now, and I didn't want to make things complicated because he had Hanahaki... A ghastly disease I've heard one too many times.

So, I waited for an opportunity when it was right and he had the time he needed, but, I couldn't. I remember how I'd sit there, staring at nothing as I questioned everything: Would he be okay to love a person who was psychotic, a mafia member whose killed dozens? Would he be frightened by me when my episodes started? What if I hurt him by accident? What if I was too late? He barely comes out, so maybe he doesn't or never will see me the same way as I do. And, most importantly, can I even provide him everything he'll ever need and want? Especially love? Will I be enough for him? I was slowly shattering myself with doubt, even when the others found out and encouraged me, but reminded me of other possibilities. And then I thought maybe I shouldn't try because her find someone better than me. Someone pure and healthy, both physically and mentally, sweet and kind. Someone who could offer more. Someone who wasn't me...

Then the entire thing happened. We talked about my crush situation, and I was running around screaming my head off as the boys came after me. But all I wanted to do was just fall somewhere when running, and just lay there, wondering what in the world I was doing. What was he thinking when he found out?... I remember that look on his face when they exposed me, just stern, looking at me and wanting to know who it was. I wasn't entirely sure why he'd suddenly drop his previous attitude. But, now and even after it, I knew why. But what followed afterward had terrified me. I wasn't told about it until I saw the post, but Wonwoo was having it. Hanahaki. And when I saw that it was black cosmos, I was stunned. I didn't know that much about Hanahaki, so, at first, I nearly started to despise the flowers because it was the very flower blossoming inside him. But I still wished him the best, and then... It happened. He confessed, catching me off guard. I remember bawling, the boys comforting me as I responded and told him I felt the same. And at that moment, I had never been more happier in my life when it was me he liked.

After that, we went on a date that was memorable, and I hope to never forget, not even a single detail of it. We had gone out to eat together, and it was the first time he saw my state. I was twitching, and because I was nervous, it increased it, making it hard for me to even eat and I nearly felt embarrassed, wondering if I was making it uncomfortable for him. Yet, he reassured me and helped me. Not once was he bothered by it. He was okay, and I was glad he was. It made me overjoyed that he was okay with me. From there, it was absolutely amazing for me. We went together, stole a cart and raced off to the playground nearby. And there, that became one of my favorite spots although it makes me anxious whenever I'm near a place that's meant for children, being that I'm not trusted to be around kids. But that day was not only labeled the greatest day of my life, and my first date, but also the day I had my first kiss with someone I loved above all things.

And it was the same day he gave me the moon bracelet, something I haven't taken off for ages since I got it... A beautiful white bracelet with a beautiful white stone, while he was the other, a beautiful dark blue that's nearly black. It's something I've treasured ever since, and something I will never lose despite me being clumsy time from time.

It's things like this that I look back towards, and sometimes, I wonder if I could have done more for him and me. But, I'm happy. I'm happy we at least got these opportunities with each other, and cherished each other for so long and even after he's left with the boys. Even though it hurt so much, so very much when he left without a word, I understood. It had to be done for their sake, especially their Admin, but I wish I could've done more. But, I can finally let it calm the storm inside me. I don't know if there will be a day he may return, but I do hope there is even though he told me not to hope too much. But if he ever does come back, all of them, I will never let go, and I promise that I'll do more, continuing my promise to love and cherish him forever. And even if he doesn't come back, I know he loves me dearly, as much as I love him. And that's enough for me. He's enough for me.

- Wen Junhui

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