#Sam is like this sweet nice guy who is also so fucking nosy and the only one actually curious about fucked up shit cases magnus institue

[empty-blog-for-lurking]

So i finally listened to The Magnus Protocol and uhh holy shit, yall mind if i

[The contents of this post has been deleted]

[sebspocketsquare]

Wishing you were here.. 6

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader (chatroom)

A/N: Hey guys! here’s the sixth installment. I hope you enjoy it, and please let me know what you think. Part 7 will be posted next monday! ps: if you want to be tagged, please inbox me directly!

Warnings: language, flirting, pet names, feels, nerves, fluff, angst, kissin’

masterlist

Upon waking up, you keep your eyes closed, replaying the memories from just hours ago.

Bucky had stayed up with you until nearly dawn, just talking and laughing. Genuinely getting to know each other for the first time. Sure, you’d spoken over the phone and through IM for quite some time, but.. it was different. Actually being able to see him, to watch his lips move when he spoke.. well, it was like walking through a dream. He’s so beautiful when he smiles, you had to pinch yourself a few times to make sure it wasn’t so. 

When you finally open your eyes, you’re disappointed to find that you’re alone in his bed. Reaching over, you find that the sheets are still slightly warm, the only sign that he really had been there with you.

In the distance, you hear the shower start. You realize that you need to do something to distract yourself before you spend too much time thinking about what he might look like while he’s showering, skin glistening and wet.

You’ve almost made it to the guest room to change when a loud knocking pattern hits Bucky’s front door. You’re planning on ignoring it, because why would you answer? This isn’t your home.. but when the knock comes again, followed by a, “C’mon, Barnes. Open up”, you realize it must be someone Bucky knows, someone he’s expecting.

Letting out a nervous breath, you make your way to the door and carefully unlock it, revealing a man that you realize looks all too familiar.

He looks shocked upon seeing you answer the door, his dark, bronze eyes scanning your entire form before finally landing on your face.

“I uh.. is Barn—Bucky, I mean.. is Bucky here?” He straightens up when he’s finally able to speak, and the empath in you picks up on his sudden change in demeanor.

“Yes, he’s um.. he’s in the shower.” You open the door further to allow the familiar-stranger inside.

The man enters the apartment slowly, and out of the corner of your eye, you catch him watching you once again. “I didn’t realize he was expecting company.” You explain to him, to which the corner of his mouth twitches.

“I didn’t realize he was seeing anyone.” 

His response makes your stomach drop.

“I’m um.. I..” You’re trying your best to form a response, but luckily you don’t have to.

Bucky comes out of the bathroom, towel drying his hair with sweatpants hanging low on his hips, giving you a full view of his bare torso and that shining, metal arm he’d kept out of your sight until this moment.

If you weren’t at a loss for words before, you sure were now.

You’re trying your best not to ogle him, but your eyes beg to trace each line of his abdominal muscles, each ripple under his skin. Your gaze glides over the angry scarring on his shoulder and all you want is to rush forward and press your lips to it, to kiss away the pain that seems trapped in the flesh.

The familiar- stranger between the two of you keeps you from doing so.

“Sam. I told you I couldn’t do breakfast this week.” Is all Bucky says, keeping his eyes on you while he speaks.

The familiar-stranger laughs, but the sound is dry, mocking even. “I didn’t realize it was because you had company..”

Bucky’s eyes finally leave you and focus on Sam, an unspoken question in his glare.

“Can I talk to you? Alone.” The tone in Sam’s voice leaves no room for argument, and Bucky spares one more glance at you before nodding. “I’ll be right back.”

Not sure why, but your stomach does flips and turns as they both walk in the direction of his bedroom.

You find yourself feeling uncharacteristically nosy when the sound of raised voices come from the room.

You creep closer to the door, despite your conscious screaming at you to keep out of it, that you may not like what you hear.. looking back, you wish you had listened. 

“You’ve done a lot of shit in the past Barnes, but this? This is a whole new level for you. Steve would be ashamed of you.” Sam’s voice has an edge of malice, the words are meant to wound Bucky. 

“I don’t even know what you’re talking about, Wilson! What the fuck have I done now?” Bucky’s voice is exasperated, and you can tell he’s genuinely confused. 

“You have a girlfriend. So who the fuck is this girl in your living room?” Sam’s words have you inhaling a sharp breath, tears stinging your eyes. He has a girlfriend? 

“You’re many things, Buck.. but I never expected you to be unfaithful.” Sam’s voice is softer now, as if that’ll show just how disappointed he is.

You don’t stick around to hear Bucky’s response, you’re all too quickly moving to the guest room and shoving your belongings into your suitcase. 

Though you can barely see through your waterworks of tears, you manage to throw everything into your bag within ten minutes. Slipping on your shoes and grabbing your phone from the nightstand, you leave the room, fully intending on walking straight out the door.

You don’t expect a happy looking Bucky to be closing the door behind an equally grinning Sam.

When he turns to you and sees how red your eyes are and the tremble in your lower lip, his smile falters. “Kitten..? Are you..” His gaze moves to where your hand is tightly gripping the handle of your suitcase, and then back to your face. “Don’t.. don’t tell me you’re leaving already, I..”

“You have a girlfriend?” You spit the words before you can stop yourself. “I heard Sam. You’re cheating on-on her with me.”

Saying the words out loud sends a fresh wave of emotion through you, forcing more tears from your eyes. “I-I thought you-you were different, Bucky, but.. you’re just the s-same as all the others.. this was a mistake. I-I shouldn’t have come.”  Your want to get out of his presence has grown into a need, and you grip the suitcase tighter.

“Wait-wait just one goddamn minute.” Bucky rushes forward, hands ready to cradle your face, but when you flinch away from the contact, he drops them to his sides in fists of defeat. “Kitten, I..” he sighs, shaking his head, “I’m not seeing anyone else.. I just.. can you let me explain, please? Let me explain before…” he sighs again, chewing the inside of his cheek. That’s when you take the time to look at his face, and realize that he’s also holding back tears.

“Sam he.. he knew that you and I had talked.. he was with me on the mission that kept me from you.. I-I had a really bad night and I.. I told him about you. Everything about you. It made me feel better, to talk about you, when I couldn’t talk to you..” He smiles softly, sniffling just a bit before he speaks again. “He knew how I felt about you.. how I feel about you.. and he’s the one who encouraged me to reach out to you when I got back.. he said that if what we had was real, you’d understand.. we’d work it out.”

Bucky lets out a shaky sigh, reaching out to take your hand away from the suitcase and into his own. 

“He didn’t put two and two together, because I.. I didn’t tell him you were coming, Kitten.. I’m so sorry, it was a selfish decision, because I.. I only have one week with you, and I didn’t want him to.. to take away even a second of the time we have together..”

His left hand comes up to your cheek hesitantly, cradling the warm, stressed skin and humming quietly when you don’t pull back. “There isn’t anyone but you, for me, kitten. I promise. There never has been.”

He rendered you speechless.

Your mouth opens, closes, and opens again, you’re gaping like a fish, but no sound comes out. Tears are still brimming the edges of your eyes and your face is flushed with warmth up to your ears. You don’t know what to do, what to say, so your next course of action comes as a complete shock.

You lean forward, quickly and with purpose, slanting your mouth over his pillowy soft lips, and that’s when you know without a doubt, you’re in love. The way you fit together is as satisfying as finding the final missing puzzle piece, and his tongue tastes like honey.

He hums into the show of affection, hand moving across your jaw and down to the nape of your neck, tilting your head just a bit, to deepen the kiss with another small moan of appreciation. 

Your hands find their way to his bare chest, nails dragging lightly against the still damp skin, but memorizing the heat and softness they find there. 

And it’s over all too quickly. 

Bucky reluctantly ends the kiss, nipping at your lower lip as he pulls back and rests his forehead against yours. His eyes are closed, chest heaving, and suddenly, you find yourself craving him in a way you hadn’t expected. 

When you reach out to trace his mouth with your fingertips, he smiles and presses a sweet kiss to each one, opening his eyes slowly. “That was uh.. that was nice, Kitten.” 

You bite your cheek to keep from smiling too big, a sense of bashfulness running through your veins at his observation. 

He chuckles, pressing one more lingering kiss to your lips, “As much as I’d really love to do that again, I uh..” he pauses to clear his throat, a light blush scattering across his cheeks, “I promised Sam I’d bring you by to officially meet him, and I um.. I don’t trust myself to not lay in bed kissin’ you all day, so..” He finally looks up to meet your eyes, “We gotta do this first.”

xxx

Breakfast with Sam turns out to be much more pleasant than your first encounter with him. The three of you share memories, smiles and laughter. 

They tell you about Steve, about what had really happened to him after the incident with Thanos, and how much they missed him now. Through his loss, their bond had grown and solidified. 

They became the most important people in each other’s lives, that is, until you. 

Sam expresses how grateful he is that Bucky found you, how happy he is to finally see Bucky happy. He tells you how much of a mopey son of a bitch Bucky was before you, and how now, that side of Bucky is nowhere to be found. 

He’s honestly thrilled that you’ve finally met and wishes you the best.

You both leave breakfast feeling as giddy as can be. When Bucky asks if you’d rather walk or take a cab, you’re all for walking, as long as it means more time spent with him and his glowing smile. 

You’re walking for maybe five minutes when he reaches out to lace his fingers through yours. The simple action has nerves fluttering in your stomach, but you squeeze his hand gently, flashing him a small smile.

“Is this okay?” He wonders, eyes darting to your hands and back. You nod, squeezing once more. “Of course it is.”

It would be a lie if you said you didn’t find it endearing, the way he was always so careful, so cautious when it came to you. As if he was afraid you’d disappear if he touched you or spoke to you the wrong way. You also hoped that one day, he’d see that you were completely and hopelessly smitten with him. If there ever was a moment that you could’ve been scared off, that time was well past.

xxx

You return to his apartment with arms full of groceries, but completely, sopping wet. You’d both been too enamored with each other to bother taking a look at the weather when you chose to walk home, ending with getting caught in a mid-day storm with no cover. You’d laughed at the time, and Bucky had even made a joke about dancing in the rain, but by the time you’d made it back, you were shivering and the soles of your shoes made a squish noise with each step you took.

“You should, uh, take a shower, kitten.” Bucky says to you, coming back to the living room with two dry towels in hand. “Your lips are startin’ to go blue.” He murmurs once he’s close enough to really see you, placing the towel in your grasp.

Trying not to be too distracted by his sudden closeness, you make a movement that’s a half nod, half shiver and excuse yourself to the bathroom.

When you’re finally alone, behind the closed door, you rid yourself of your clothes faster than you ever have. You’re desperate to get under the scalding water of his shower.

Your hands are beginning to prune when you finally shut off the water and force yourself out of the stall to dry off.

It’s only then that you realize you’ve forgotten a change of clothes, and all you have to cover yourself are either your soaked outfit from earlier or your just-a-little-too-small-to-cover-everything towel.

Heat floods your cheeks as you weigh your options..

You did have feelings for Bucky.. 

He is an incredibly attractive man..

You had kissed him mere hours ago..

You suppose him seeing you in such a compromising position wouldn’t be so bad, would it..?

Taking a deep breath in, you pull the towel around yourself as tight as it’ll go and open the door, peeking your head out first. 

You don’t see or hear him, so you take a chance and quickly move towards the hallway, silently hoping you can get to the guest room before he sees you. 

If only you were so lucky.

You’ve barely rounded the corner when you bump into him, causing you to release a shriek and grasp your towel tighter, while his arm goes around your waist to keep you from toppling over. “Jeez, sorry, Kitten, I-I didn’t see you there..” His voice falters mid sentence as he takes in your appearance. 

Wet hair, water droplets still clinging to your eyelashes and dripping down your neck. His eyes follow one in particular, as it makes it’s decent over your collarbone and down your sternum.

He doesn’t even seem to realize he’s making eye contact with your chest until you clear your throat nervously.

“I-I’m sorry, I was so cold, I forgot to grab clothes before I took a shower.. I-I just need to change.” You explain your lack of attire, but you’re not sure if he hears you, as his eyes are glued to your lips.

When a few moments pass with no response other than his breathing quickening, you smile and carefully step out of his embrace. Your heart thunders in your chest when his fingers tighten around your towel and then release the fabric all together.

“I’ll be right out.” You promise, and he smiles, but there’s a faraway look in his eyes. 

“Of course, kitten. Take your time.”

You practically slam your back against the door once you’re inside the guest room, murmuring a quiet holy fuck to yourself. 

It seemed that your surprise kiss this morning only made the sexual tension between the two of you grow, and you weren’t sure how much longer you could go before surrendering to it.

You weren’t sure you wanted to wait much longer. 

If only you knew what was going on inside his mind as well.

xxx

Two hours finds you dressed and back in the living room with Bucky, both of you lounging back on the couch with your feet on the coffee table. Empty wine glasses and bottles sit on coasters in the center of the table, and you feel a familiar, warm buzz working its way through you. 

He hadn’t said much after seeing you practically naked in the hall, and you noticed he couldn’t quite make eye contact with you, either. 

It was beginning to bother you. 

“Hey..” you say after a while, pulling his attention from the tv, “Is everything alright?”

He hums, chewing his lower lip as he nods. “Of course it is, kitten. Why wouldn’t it be?”

You let out a soft sigh, shrugging as you avert your gaze to your feet. “I.. it just feels like you’ve sort of.. pulled away from me since this afternoon..” you pause to clear your throat, “you know, when I ran into you in the hall..”

You brave a peek at his face, only to find him still chewing his cheek, but with a blush spread across his face this time. You couldn’t be sure if it was the wine that did it, or the memory. “I.. I don’t want you to.. to be mad or think I’m weird, kitten, that’s all..”

You crease your brow in confusion, “What do you mean? Have I done something to offend you..? I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—“

He cuts you off with a gentle finger pressing against your lips, before his hand slowly drops to your exposed shoulder, tracing the skin there softly. 

“You haven’t done anything wrong, it’s just.. You’re so beautiful, you know?” He stops to smile, his eyes following his fingers as they move down your arm, to your elbow. “When I saw you earlier, in nothin’ more than that damn towel, I..” He sighs, and the wall goes back up as he retracts his hand from your skin. “It reminded me that I’m not so pretty to look at..” 

He absentmindedly strokes the digits of his left hand, the only part of the metal appendage that’s visible with the long-sleeve shirt he’s wearing.

Your eyes zero in it. 

“Can I.. can I see it?” You ask before you can stop yourself, nodding at his arm. 

He looks up, eyebrow raised, “You saw it earlier.. wasn’t that enough?” 

You know he’s nervous, you can tell by the way he shrinks away when you reach out to touch him.

“Please?” Your pleading comes out in a whisper.

He stares at you for a long moment before nodding with a loud sigh, standing up, and carefully removing his shirt.

He stands with his back to you for a few moments. You can see the skin stretch over his muscles with each breath he takes, his spine lengthening as he straightens his posture, and his biceps flex, before he finally sits back down beside you. His arm is mere inches from you, and you have to remind yourself to take it slow, to not spook him.

You only look for the first few minutes, then you raise your hand and skim your fingers across the dark colored plates that made up his forearm. They twitch beneath your touch, causing you to look at him abruptly. “Can you.. feel it..?” You wonder, but feel stupid as soon as the question leaves you. You’re about to open your mouth to apologize, but he speaks first. 

“Yes.. but, it’s not like what you feel..” he watches your fingers as they move further up his arm, across the bulge in his bicep and up to his shoulder. “It’s more.. intense. Heightened, I would even say.” 

He flips his hand palm up, tickling the soft skin on your inner arm as he does so. He smiles as he speaks, moving his fingers back and forth in slow lines. “I can feel how warm you are.. how you’ve grown warmer since you first touched me..” He cocks his head, looking at you intently as he continues to speak and explore the skin on your arm. 

“I can feel your heart.. how your pulse quickens whenever I get too close to you.” As if to prove his point, he ducks his head down to brush his nose over your cheekbone, stopping when his lips brush your ear to whisper, “Just.. like.. that.”

You can hear your heart beating in your ears, and in your nervous state, you blurt out, “does it hurt?”

He knows you’re referring to the scars, and he pulls back slightly so he can see the ley lines of pink flesh, “Not anymore.” 

You trace the biggest scar lightly, waiting for him to flinch as a sign to stop. When he does nothing, you lean forward and press your lips to the spot you’d touched moments before.

He releases a shaky sigh at the contact, his free hand coming to rake through your hair. “Kitten..” he gasps quietly when you continue peppering kisses along the seam of his arm, each one softer than the last. 

“You-you don’t have to do this.” His voice is strained, you’re not sure if it’s out of pleasure or pain, but you raise your head from his shoulder to meet his eyes, “I know.. I want to.” 

He exhales another shaky breath, hand moving to cradle your cheek as he smiles fondly, “C’mon.. let’s go lay in bed. I.. I want to hold you.”

You’ve never agreed to a proposal so quickly in your life.

TAGS: (IF YOU WANT TO BE TAGGED, PLEASE INBOX ME, ITS GETTING DIFFICULT TO KEEP TRACK OF TAGS VIA NOTES).  @mindingmyownbusiness @plumfondler  @buckybarnesappreciationsociety @loricameback @tinaferraldo @geminimoonbeamx  @preserumsteverogers @moderapoppins @lowkeysebby @buckyshattergirl  @jayattemptstoruletheworld    @the-observant-fangirl @moondancewrites @moonbeambucky @trinityjadec  @stevieang  @bionic-buckyb @eyecandybarnes @propertyofpoeandbucky @promarvelfangirl @ballyhoobarnes @bucky-plums-barnes @cate-lynne @witchymarvelspacecase @imaginingbucky @theimpossibleg1rl @babygurl8840 @wonderlandmind4 @buckysthing @formulafun @curvybihufflepuff @fanficsformarvelkillme  @shadyskit @lostinthoughtsandfeelings @reading--mermaid @fuckmestan @siliverin @verygraphicink @sallyp-53 @thatsbucknasty @steadyphantomcat @booktease21 @kiki5283 @lostinspace33 @drayshadow @theperditioncrasher @mmyepic @feelmyroarrrr @alien-beans

[suffering-and-happy-about-it]

WhatsApp? Part 3. (Steve Rogers x reader)

Description: You’ve never been lucky with guys. You just wanted to catch someone’s eye, to be loved. One day, that’s about to turn completely - with one fake, completely imagined number a guy gave you

A/N: let's face the FACTS - I'm going more with the “Anthony Mackie and Sebastian Stan” dynamic than with “Sam’s and Bucky’s” but let me just say... I enjoy it like hell.

Warnings: Bucky and Sam being actual children and Bucky calling Sam cloaca. (Find it online if you don't have any idea what that means. :D)

Tagging: @missdictatorme

Read other parts here: Part One  Part Two

You felt every inch of your fucking body just burn. Your nerves have been putting up the pressure in you from the moment he agreed with that stupid game Peter has adviced to you. (Peter liked it, he said it was enjoyable and that they, as a class, had a ton of fun answering those questions, so it wasn't THAT bad. But you felt like a teenager once again.)

You laid down to you pajamas with some popcorn you've made for this occasion, playing the movie in the background.

Steve: Text me when you're ready. I have arrived at home now.

That was an hour ago. And Steve had sleeping issues. You knew he wouldn't be sleeping, and even tho you felt bad to write to that polite man at 9 p.m.

---

Y/N: Okay, I'm ready. You have the first question to ask, Steve.

Steve swallowed and watched American football on the TV. His only concern was if she found out and if she did - did she freak out? Sam and Bucky were bouncing on the sofa next to him, fully occupied by the TV, caught up in the game. They were yelling; Sam was a fan of the team in the blue colors and even tho Buck was a fan of them as well, when he found out, he immediately swore on that he isn't an actual Jesus that he's more inclined to the other team just to piss Sam off.

That was long forgotten because their favorite team had scored and they yelled like two girls going through puberty.

Steve: So, my first question is... My deepest concern is, how do you feel about me?

It was a simple question. Only some words. Yet it felt like if the fire consumed him alive during waiting on the answer. He leaned his chin into his palm, his leg was jumping all around and his eyes were checking his phone every half of the second.

It was kinda hard trying to ignore maneuvers like these from that tall and huge guy, so it didn't stay unnoticed for a long time.

Sam looked at Steve with concern and the football started to fade away for a moment. His elbow nudged Bucky's hip as his head moved in Steve's direction.

"Fuck, look at him. I forgot that our boy has his big online dating thingy today." - Sam grinned hard. - "I feel like a proud mom, Bucky."

"Oh, lord!" - Bucky exclaimed with fake drama in his voice. Steve knew really well what is about to come; he wished really hard to take back when Natasha told Bucky the 'language story'. - " Watch your language! And that thing you've said about being the mom is totally right because I'm a bigger man than you in every way." - Bucky tried to help Steve because, at that point, Steve looked like a bottle of spilled ketchup. He was trying to make birdbrain argue with him.

"Hold your horses, cyborg. You may be bigger but Sammy can fly, can you fly?" - Sam shoved some chips into his mouth. - "Don't think so. That why I do better with chicks, at least more than you do."

"Listen up, cloaca. If you're trying to make me believe that your cheap sellout of Stark's suits you have in your closet is actually sexy in some way," - Bucky answered angrily. Steve was laughing at that point. Those arguments were maybe almost every day between Buck and Sam, but that was just the way their friendship worked. They couldn't communicate in normal human language. They specifically needed to argue.

"You are disgusting. You called me cloaca? Do you even know what it means?" - Sam exclaimed at that pictures in his head. Bucky looked fucking proud with himself, watching birdbrain with that shit-eating grin on his face. - "Jesus Christ, Ewwww, you're disgusting and that's why," - Steve stopped to listen at that exact moment because his phone finally vibrated with an answer.

Y/N: Hmmm... Tough one. I think you're a really polite and well-raised man. You're really nice and you overall feel like a good person.

That made Steve sigh with huge relief. She didn't know. Or at least she didn't shove it right into his face.

Y/N: Anyway, tell me more about yourself. My first question is: what do you like to wear at home?

That, for change, made Steve smile. That was such a sweet and innocent question full of pure wondering from Y/N. Smooth move.

"His expression is weird." - Sam mumbled to Bucky quietly. - "I think our boy has his first boob pic."

"How many times do I have to tell you that this isn't how Steve's acting with a lady? You do have a brain or a bird or what?" - Bucky whispered back unbelievably.

"Well, let me tell you," - Sam traced off the topic to explain that his brain is actually bigger because he isn't a frost neanderthal man like Bucky is.

Steve: I like to wear something comfortable. Some normal t-shirt and sweat pants I guess, when it's hot I tend to wear loose shorts. I am not at work so what would be the stress for?

Steve: Anyway. My second question is: what kind of restaurants do you like?

And this was something that made Steve grin. He thought he made a really smooth move. He was proud of himself. That was bold.

"Oh. He's getting the dating game pretty on. Just look at him. He didn't look this pleased with himself since he only half-burnt the turkey for Thanksgiving." - Sam jumped on the option to comment on Steve again. He didn't hesitate a single second if he had a way to collide with Steve's personal space. No matter how hard Bucky tried to keep Samuel Wilson occupied, he was really good at multitasking.

"That's it, fellas." - Steve stood up with a smile. Bucky knew that he's just enjoying himself and he was really happy for that man. But Sam didn't understand the meaning of privacy. - "I'll go to bed and I'll tell you how it all went in the morning."

“Come on, man! Wheres the fun in that?” - Sam exclaimed with a laugh when Steve got up for real and let them watch the football.

---

Steve: Anyway. My second question is: what kind of restaurants do you like?

You were taken away with that. So Steve could be smooth as well. He wasn't that smooth during those fourteen days, so you were a bit shocked by his smoothness. Also, you couldn't erase the tee and sweats image from your mind. He liked being comfy, to take a rest from his work. You liked that.

Y/N: That was smooth, Steve. Really. But my favorite kind of restaurants? I think a good plate of food is a great bonus when you actually like that place. I like simple, intimate, quiet restaurants if I have to be honest with you.

Y/N: Wirble, my third question is: What kind of women do you like?

You locked the screen of your phone, watching the movie you chose, not that it actually mattered now, with anxiety. Maybe it was too far - but you truly were curious about that. What if you two decided to see each other in person and suddenly you weren't his type? What then? 

You were anxious to know the answer. So you naturally freaked out when five minutes passed and Steve was still silent as a grave. You were sure that you took things too far. You had felt he maybe is a bit shy, but this was just bitchy move. You were just about to apologize for being too nosy when Steve answered your text.

Steve: Now THAT'S a difficult question. But I swore that I'll be honest with you so... I don't think it's about the looks exactly. It's maybe a nice bonus when a woman has full lips and beautiful eyes, but I'm attracted to women who have self-confidence and who can take care of themselves. I like to care for ladies, but there's nothing prettier than a girl who can look after herself. Another personality trait that I like their humor and intelligence... I could go on for hours. Let's say I don't care as much? When we click, we click. That's how I feel about that.

That complex answer told you that Steve truly is shy. He didn't know how to answer properly and easily. It felt like he doesn't really know what type is his type. He only made it worse for himself. You got a feeling that Steve actually doesn't know what kind of women does he like. Was he really that innocent? It felt like if Steve never actually tried to... Date someone.

You laughed at your dumbness. Of course, Steve dated someone. With his manners? Which girl would not want a guy with manners? And you didn't even know about his astonishing good looks at that moment.

Steve: Okay. My fourth question is... What do you look like? Sorry if it's too personal. I just kind of wish to know what to imagine.

You were fucking surprised. He went just fully in. You two were truly getting to know each other better than before. You were sure that after that evening, you will not be able to get back into those formal texts again. From strangers, you slowly began to build a friendship. It was a normal question.

Y/N: I am a normal girl, nothing too extraordinary. I have Y/C hair and Y/C eyes and my friends say that I am kinda cute and pretty, especially in glasses. I like to wear something comfortable, but I like to get pretty for occasions. Jeans and v-neck shirt probably suit me the best.

Y/N: Let me continue with a question... What do you do for a living?

You were watching your phone nervously, frowning a bit and biting your lip down. You were curious about that question because Deena always said that occupation can say a lot about a person. But you didn't expect what Steve said to you.

Steve: That's... Quite complicated to explain, Y/N. Trust me, I would love to tell you, but let's just keep this a secret, alright? I swear I will tell you one day.

You were confused as hell. What for the fuck's sake was his occupation? Was he some kind of a celebrity bodyguard? Your mind cut through a million of horrifying scenarios within one minute. Was he a part of some mafia? Or was he a killer for a living? What the hell? 

Steve: But it's my turn to ask. What do you do for a living and do you have any hobbies?

--- 

Steve legitimately panicked the minute you asked him. You surely didn't know who he was. Because if you knew, you would drop a hint, small clue at least. A clue that you knew. But you just casually asked what was his occupation. He knew that if he had met you outside the virtual life and you would ask about his life, he would choke out some words, muttering them quietly. He would not be able to say a meaningful sentence. 

He had your image, or at least its essence, in his mind. You must've looked like a really nice woman. And he was curious about the contours of your face, especially with your glasses on. He was... Eager to know more about you, those formal texts were long forgotten now. And kind. Your answer supported that immediately.

Y/N: I work as a social worker for a charity in Queens. We do a lot of different things, helping and supporting homeless people with some clothes and food, we're arranging some occasions for orphanages and we do some events for handicapped people... There's a lot of ways to make the world better. We'll have an arrangement at the Annual Charity Event hosted by Stark Industries, you know, trying to raise some funds. We're training our dancing choreography now. And for my hobbies, I am a simple girl. You know... Hanging out with friends, sometimes reading, I tried to play the guitar, I am an occasional photographer, trust me, I've tried everything... I am a normal girl, as I said.

He literally melted because of a partially strange girl at the exact moment he read your text. You weren't completely strange to Steve at that moment, but you weren't exactly friends at that point either. But the way you spoke about your occupation? Making the world around you better? Trying to work hard for the society? You definitely earned a big heartwarming smile from that super-serum giant.

Y/N: Okay, one last question, Steve. I will repeat one of yours - give me some image of you. I want to know how you appear like a man and some of your personal traits. I just know you're most likely in some sweat pants and a t-shirt, which is not much. :)

You. Were. Nailing. Steve. Rogers. So. Much.

Your text was clearly meant to be ended with a joke which earned you a soft giggle (G I G G L E) from that old man. It was curious yet it had boundaries of formality, not attacking his personal space. You knew how to move him in the best imaginable way. This was way better than that formal texting you two went through for the last couple of weeks. He found it... Somehow charming. And to say amusing was a huge misleading word.

He was having fun.

Steve: Alright, alright. I think I'm not able to wiggle out of this one. :)

Steve: What do I look like? It's kind of hard to describe yourself. I am definitely very tall, taller than most of my friends. I gained a pretty big body over time (The sweet and gentle, definitely shy man didn't find better words to describe what super-serum had done to his body). I have blue eyes, I'm blonde and my hair is too long now. One of my friends, Nat, told me that I am really handsome when I don't know about that. I am not convinced that it is true.

Steve: For my hobbies... I do a lot of things. A LOT. I am not much of a sleeper, so I read during the nights, I watch movies with my fellas; one of them always chooses. I love learning about modern culture and technologies, but the '40s with WWII are really something to me. It definitely is a 'guilty pleasure' to me. And I love morning jogs and to have a good work out. :)

Steve definitely outdid himself with this one. He was legit proud of himself for writing such a long text with some actual meaning. And he even dropped the hint about who he was. He almost patted his own shoulder.

Sadly, it was almost ten p.m., so he knew he would soon have to say goodbye to you. He didn't want to stop at that point.

Steve: But to change the topic, because I definitely don't like being in the spotlight, what did you stop with nicknames? They were somehow fun. ;)

---

And to be honest, Steve himself was nailing you as well. You just laid there, your eyes firmly closed, imagining the man on the other side. You bit your lip and smiled. You believed him - he was sincere and honest with you all this time. Why wouldn't he be now?

Your imagination did a hell of a job. You couldn't but imagine a really, REALLY handsome man having a well-built and ripped body. You almost hugged your phone at this image. You were out of your fucking mind when he asked about nicknames.

Y/N: Well, I didn't want you to find me creepy. A strange girl calling you nicknames? The strangest thing ever. Even tho I think a lot of women must call you handsome, am I right?

Steve: I highly doubt that. Never had exactly the change to go and find out. ;)

A new emoji used twice! Wow. You felt like playing a video game and unlocking an achievement. This was more personal than formal and you loved it.

Y/N: Aaaand... I think you're lying now. You must be so popular with what you've said to me. Good lord. That was an evening, I tell you.

Y/N: I need to go to sleep, Steve. Goodnight and sleep tight, handsome.

Steve: I'm looking forward to text with you tomorrow. ;)

And with that, you fell asleep, smiling to yourself. He was an angel. He had to be one.

[nyangibun]

Day 2 - Fools in Love

Valentine’s Week - Love Songs

@jonxsansafanfiction

Song - Can’t Help Falling in Love by Elvis Presley

Ao3 Link

...

To: <j.snow@wildlinggroup.co.uk>

From: <sansastark@winterfellacademy.ac.uk>

Subject: Thank You

Dear Mr Snow,

Thank you for meeting with me on such short notice this morning. I understand you must be very busy and I really appreciate it.

I just want to reiterate that Rhaenys is a very bright girl but she might benefit from some after school activities. I hope it’s not out of line for me to say this. I do think Rhaenys really wants to play with the other kids but she might be too scared to do so.

If there is anything you think she might be interested, please let me know. I will help in any way I can to get her involved.

Best wishes,

Sansa Stark

Winterfell Academy

----------

To: <sansastark@winterfellacademy.ac.uk>

From: <j.snow@wildlinggroup.co.uk>

Subject: Re: Thank You

Dear Miss Stark,

Please just call me, Jon. And it really was no trouble. I’m happy to come in any time.

Since I took her in, I’ve noticed that my sister enjoys reading a lot and last week, I bought her some paints. It was probably a bad idea but she’s really enjoying painting her own room. Is there something she could do with either of those things?

Can I be frank with you, Miss Stark? I have no idea what I’m doing. Any advice is more than fine so don’t worry. You’re not out of line at all.

Best wishes,

Jon Snow

CEO, Wildling Group UK

----------

Wildling Bros

Tormund: Are u srsly crushing on ur sis’s teacher? Mate… how long has it been since Ygritte? Maybe its time u got laid

Jon: I’m not crushing on my sister’s teacher!

Sam: You kind of are. You couldn’t stop talking about her at the pub. Remember?

Edd: Yeah, mate. We get it. She was super helpful and nice and shit but hitting on your sister’s teacher probably isnt a good idea.

Jon: I’m not hitting on her. I just think she could be good for Rhaenys.

Jon: Can we drop this?

Tormund: Whatever u say, Snow.

Tormund: But on a scale 1 to Me, how hot is she?

Jon: She’s 10/10 hotter than your ugly ass

Tormund: OI! I AM BEAUTIFUL!

Edd: Says who????

----------

To: <j.snow@wildlinggroup.co.uk>

From: <sansastark@winterfellacademy.ac.uk>

Subject: Thank You

Dear Jon,

If we’re going by first names then you can call me Sansa. It’s only fair.

You’re doing much better than you think you are. The fact that you care enough to come in and talk about ways to help Rhaenys is a lot more than some parents. Trust me.

You’re letting a five-year-old paint her own room? That is… risky.

But maybe we can enroll her in some afterschool art classes. Would she be interested in that? A couple of the girls from her class do them.

Best wishes,

Sansa Stark

Winterfell Academy

----------

To: <sansastark@winterfellacademy.ac.uk>

From: <j.snow@wildlinggroup.co.uk>

Subject: Re:Re: Thank You

Dear Sansa,

Art classes sound great! Let’s do that! She seemed pretty interested when I mentioned it but I’ll come in with her the first couple of classes. I think that would make her feel better. Is that okay?

You’re too kind. Thank you, Sansa.

I mean it saves me the trouble of figuring out what colour to paint her walls. Now she can just paint all over them however she likes.

Best wishes,

Jon Snow

CEO, Wildling Group UK

----------

Jeyne: You’re EMAILING with the Hot Dad??!?!

Sansa: He’s not a dad. He’s her brother.

Sansa: And sooooo??? You make it sound like I’m having an affair behind the bleachers or something!

Jeyne: Don’t tell me you DON’T wanna lick Hot Dad from head to toe.

Sansa: That’s super inappropriate, Jeyne! We’re teachers!

Jeyne: And we’re red-blooded single women with eyes!

Sansa: Why do I bother talking to you?

Jeyne: Because I’m smart and you love me.

Jeyne: So when do you see Hot Dad again?

Sansa: On Wednesday… but it’s strictly professional! We’re enrolling Rhaenys in the afterschool art classes and he’s going to come sit in so she doesn’t feel too nervous.

Jeyne: Huh. So remind me again why he’s doing all this? Aren’t her parents around?

Sansa: I didn’t ask but he mentioned their dad isn’t around much and her mum passed away couple of years after she was born.

Jeyne: Poor baby.

Sansa: Yeah, she’s a sweet kid but just painfully shy.

Jeyne: So Hot Dad decided to take her? How old is he? That can’t be an easy decision.

Sansa: Probably a bit older than us?

Jeyne: Damn. I know I’m a teacher and I love my kids but I can’t imagine actually having any right now.

Sansa: I know. Jon’s a good guy.

Jeyne: JON, IS IT? HOOOOO BOY, YOU GOT IT BAD!

Sansa: Fuck off!

Jeyne: LANGUAGE, MISSY!

----------

To: <j.snow@wildlinggroup.co.uk>

From: <sansastark@winterfellacademy.ac.uk>

Subject: Re:Re:Re: Thank You

Dear Jon,

Thank you for coming in with her. I think you being there really helped a lot. She looked like she was enjoying it, right? Did she say anything when you two got home?

Also, I wanted to apologise about earlier. My friend is… I want to say not always so nosy but that would be a lie. I hope she didn’t make you uncomfortable or anything.

And for what it’s worth, I wasn’t lying when I said you’re doing really well with Rhaenys, even if becoming her sole guardian wasn’t part of your plans. She looks up to you and she needs a good parental figure in her life.

Best wishes,

Sansa

----------

To: <j.snow@wildlinggroup.co.uk>

From: <sansastark@winterfellacademy.ac.uk>

Subject: Re:Re:Re: Thank You

I didn’t mean your dad isn’t a good parental figure!

I’m so sorry! That was so rude! I’m so so sorry!

----------

Wildling Bros

Edd: Get the fuck back to work, Snow! I can see you smiling at your phone down there!

Jon: I’ve finished my part, you wanker. Some of us are just more efficient than others.

Edd: HA!!!!! Efficient? If you were so efficient, you’d be asking out your hot teacher.

Jon: What?? Why would I do that?

Edd: Because you’re basically in love already.

Jon: No I’m not. And weren’t you the one telling me crushing on her was inappropriate?

Edd: Eh, what do I know?

Tormund: Will u two stfu??? Some of us are in meetings with potential clients, u know!

Tormund: P.S. Jon, he ain’t wrong. When u gonna ask her out???

Sam: Leave him alone. It’s not always that easy.

Tormund: Ah well YOOOOUUUU would be the expert on not making a move. Hows it going w Gilly????

Sam has left the group chat.

Tormund has added Sam to the group chat.

----------

To: <sansastark@winterfellacademy.ac.uk>

From: <j.snow@wildlinggroup.co.uk>

Subject: Re:Re:Re:Re: Thank You

Dear Sansa,

Well, you wouldn’t be wrong though.

My dad is, for lack of a better word, pretty shit for a dad. Great businessman, awful father. Even when I was younger, he was never around, but my mum and him were never married so it didn’t bother me. I at least had her for most of my life.

Rhaenys wasn’t too lucky. Elia was a great mother but I don’t think Rhaenys even remembers her that well. She died when Rhaenys was 2. I should’ve realised sooner how lonely she was but I was so focused on getting my company off the ground that I didn’t notice. I should’ve taken her in sooner. Maybe she wouldn’t be having such a hard time connecting with the other kids at school.

 Sorry. I didn’t mean to unload on you like that. Shit.

Jon

----------

To: <j.snow@wildlinggroup.co.uk>

From: <sansastark@winterfellacademy.ac.uk>

Subject: Re:Re:Re:Re:Re: Thank You

Jon,

You don’t have to apologise for that. I don’t mind at all. I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t been curious about you all this time so it’s nice to get some insight into who you are but I think you’re crazy for blaming yourself so much. This isn’t your fault and this isn’t some irreversible thing. Rhaenys will be fine and she’s already doing so much better since the art classes.

I wish you could come see her. I know you’re busy so this isn’t me guilting you or anything but I just want you to see how happy she is. She even started talking to Lillian more.

See, if it wasn’t for you, she wouldn’t have had all of this.

Stop blaming yourself. Be proud.

I’m proud.

Sansa

P.S. I take it back then. Your dad sucks and Rhaenys is lucky to have you as her main parental figure.

----------

To: <sansastark@winterfellacademy.ac.uk>

From: <j.snow@wildlinggroup.co.uk>

Subject: Re:Re:Re:Re:Re: Thank You

Sansa,

I hope you know that I made the mistake of opening your email during a meeting and laughing out loud at you saying my dad sucks. If I lose this client, I will have to hold you responsible.

I can come next Wednesday. Will that be okay?

Oh and thank you. A lot of people have said similar things but I guess coming from you makes it a little more believable. Because you’re her teacher and you actually know how she’s doing.

So do I get a life story from you? I feel like you already know everything about me. This friendship feels unbalanced.

Jon

----------

Jeyne: So we finally go out and you spend all night giggling at your phone and ignoring every half decent looking guy to hit on you. When in the hell are you just gonna tell Hot Dad you’re into him?

Sansa: I did not! And I am not!!

Jeyne: The lady doth protest TOO BLOODY MUCH!

Jeyne: Seriously, Sans. You’re allowed to date. There aren’t any rules you can’t date your student’s parents and even if there was, Hot Dad’s technically just her brother.

Sansa: Even if I did like him, who’s to say he’s even interested????

Jeyne: Uh maybe the fact he’s emailing you at 10pm on a Saturday night?!!?

Sansa: That doesn’t mean anything.

Jeyne: My god you are dumb.

----------

To: <j.snow@wildlinggroup.co.uk>

From: <sansastark@winterfellacademy.ac.uk>

Subject: Re:Re:Re:Re:Re: Thank You

Jon,

How will you hold me responsible? I plead innocent.

Wednesday is perfect. We’re actually having a Halloween theme class then. Did Rhaenys mention it? We’ll be in costumes so be sure to come dressed appropriately!

There’s not much to tell. I’m a single 28-year-old. I’ve lived in Winterfell all of my life. I have one sister and three brothers. I’m the second oldest in my family and the only sane one. If you ever meet my family, you’d see why.

Ummm… I have a dog named Lady. She’s the sweetest thing in the whole wide world. And that’s it. Truthfully, my life is very boring.

Sansa

----------

To: <sansastark@winterfellacademy.ac.uk>

From: <j.snow@wildlinggroup.co.uk>

Subject: Re:Re:Re:Re:Re: Thank You

Sansa,

Hardly innocent, Miss Stark. You’re very distracting.

Ugh… I don’t really do costumes. Can’t I just dress Rhaenys up and be done with it? Which actually is another issue. She wants to be Rapunzel but Rapunzel from the Disney movie. Where do I even find that?

Four siblings? Wow, that’s quite a household. I’m actually a little jealous. I’ve always wanted a big family. Growing up, it was just mum and me but at least I have Rhaenys now.

What kind of dog is Lady? I have a dog too. His name’s Ghost. Big mischievous Husky.

Jon

P.S. You’re not boring to me.

----------

To: <j.snow@wildlinggroup.co.uk>

From: <sansastark@winterfellacademy.ac.uk>

Subject: Re:Re:Re:Re:Re: Thank You

Jon,

You’re just as distracting so you’re guilty too.

Do you want me to help you find the costume? I could meet you and Rhaenys in town and we could have a look around. I feel sending you out on your own would be too cruel. That way I can also help you find your costume too!

You can have my siblings if you want. Just say the word and they’re yours.

Really? That’s kind of crazy. Lady is a Husky too!

Sansa

P.S. Thank you.

----------

Sansa: Okay, you were right.

Jeyne: Of course I was. I’m a genius. But what exactly was I right about?

Sansa: Hot Dad!

Sansa: I think… shit. I think I’m in love with him.

Jeyne: OOOHHHHHHH! TELL ALL!!!

Sansa: I offered to help him find Halloween costumes in town so I just spent the day with him and Rhaenys. We walked all over town and you know how I can be kind of… closed off around new guys? I thought that’s how I’d get or that at least it’d be awkward considering we’ve only seen each other a couple of times but it wasn’t. It wasn’t at all.

Jeyne: And!?

Sansa: And then to thank me, he took me out to dinner. I mean Rhaenys was there but you know how much I adore her.

Sansa: Oh god, Jeyne… The scary thing is there was this moment when we were sitting there, just the three of us laughing at something, and I realised this was what I wanted. Him and her and all of it.

Jeyne: Shit… I thought you just wanted to bone him.

Sansa: SO DID I!!!!!!! WHAT DO I DO!!!

Jeyne: First of all, calm down. There’s nothing you can do but just tell him how you feel. Look, it might be hard for you to believe but this guy is clearly crazy about you too.

Sansa: Maybe. I don’t know.

Jeyne: TELL HIM!!

----------

Wildling Bros

Jon: So fuck…

Sam: What’s going on? Are you okay?

Tormund: What’d u do now?

Jon: I think I’m way over my head with Rhaenys’ teacher.

Edd: You’re only now realising this????

Jon: Piss off. I didn’t think I’d like her so much. Yeah, she’s more beautiful than anyone I’ve ever met or dated or even seen but she’s Rhaenys’ TEACHER. I didn’t expect it to get this far.

Sam: You can’t help how you feel, Jon.

Tormund: What is “this far”? Did u shag her?!

Jon: No! What???

Tormund: What? I’m just asking. What do u mean???

Jon: I mean I want to date her!

Jon: No, fuck. I want to do more than date her. I want to marry this girl and have 4 kids and buy a house and stupid impossible things!

Edd: Why’s that impossible?

Jon: Did you not hear me? She’s Rhaenys’ teacher. The only teacher she trusts. What if it goes to shit? I can’t do that to Rhaenys. And who’s to say she’s even interested?

Edd: You’re a dumb prick. You won’t know if you don’t try. And stop using your sister as an excuse because you’re scared.

Sam: He has a point.

Tormund: Does he? So how’s Gilly?

Sam has left the group chat.

Tormund has added Sam to the group chat.

----------

To: <sansastark@winterfellacademy.ac.uk>

From: <j.snow@wildlinggroup.co.uk>

Subject: Re:Re:Re:Re:Re: Thank You

Sansa,

I’m really sorry about today. I didn’t mean to act so weird and leave abruptly like that. I can’t really explain it. At least over email.

We’re having a little picnic in the park for Rhaenys’ birthday next Saturday. She’d really love it if you came but I’d understand if that’s a little awkward for you. You can bring your friend, Jeyne, if you want though.

We’ll be at Weirwood Park at noon. I really hope to see you there.

Jon

----------

Tormund: So u coming tonight?

Jeyne: Idk why u think we’re suddenly friends just because we caught your best friend making out with my best friend together. That is NOT a bonding moment!

Tormund: Felt like a bonding moment to me.

Jeyne: You are very weird.

Tormund: Besides, we both know they’ll probably get married in a year or something, pop out some kids and be really disgusting about it for the rest of our lives. Better bond now over our mutual disgust.

Jeyne: I hate that you’re not wrong.

Tormund: ;)

Jeyne: You’re such a creep. How could someone like Jon be friends with YOU?

Tormund: I know, right? I’m way too handsome to be with that broody prick.

Jeyne: OH. MY. GOD.

----------

To: <sansas@gmail.com>

From: <j.snow@wildlinggroup.co.uk>

Subject: BTW

Just to reiterate, in case I wasn’t clear enough last night…

I love you.

I know it’s probably foolish to rush into this since we barely know each other and you’re Rhaenys’ teacher but we both adore you and I can’t help falling in love with you.

And I was broody because I thought you had a boyfriend. Did not realise that was your brother.

So in conclusion, I’m an ass, but at least I’m an asshole that loves you, right?

----------

To: <j.snow@wildlinggroup.co.uk>

From: <sansas@gmail.com>

Subject: Re: BTW

Loving me is not an excuse to be an asshole but I forgive you because you’re cute when you’re jealous and broody.

And I love you too. Maybe it is foolish and fast but I don’t care.

Now, stop emailing me and come over so I can fuck you seven ways to Sunday.

----------

To: <sansas@gmail.com>

From: <j.snow@wildlinggroup.co.uk>

Subject: Re:Re: BTW

Jesus fuck, Sansa…

----------

[inkedsevans]

sunny-side up surprise. | solo*

WHO: sam evans & stacy evans (mentions of others)

WHAT: an early morning drop-in, with a side of pumpkin pancakes. 

WHEN: 11/5; early morning

WHERE: the double c diner

WARNINGS: (mentions of alcoholism) WC: 2010

He was startled awake by a pillow to the face and the sound of a voice that was very much not his father’s.

“I’m hungry and we’re out of eggs.”

Groggily, Sam opened his eyes to find a familiar dark pair peering down at him and he groaned. It was way too early for his sister, in time of the morning and otherwise. Last they’d spoken she was still at school, caught up in the rapidly approaching end of another grad school semester and wasn’t due for a visit until Thanksgiving time, but there she was, hovering over him, looking ready to snatch another pillow from the bed to pelt him with.

“Shouldn’t you be in school?” he asked around a large yawn. It didn’t stop him from getting up, though not without some drama, groaning even louder and pushing a hand through haphazard blond locks as he sat on the edge of the bed, feeling cold but fully awake.

Stacy looked far too chipper for the hour, greeting him with a cheery smile and a cheek pinch that he waved off with a grumble, growing louder at the sound of her laughter.

“I have a light week; mostly papers due and figured it was as good a time as any for a trip home. Check on things…and you.” She glanced down at Sam, brown eyes searching for a moment before asking “Were you going to tell me what really happened with the kitchen, or…?”

Their last phone call, he’d only glossed over the details surrounding the fire, not wanting her to worry about things, with her plate already filled with school. He merely reassured her the damage wasn’t extensive and he was working out a deal with Puck for repairs, but Sam was certain seeing it in person was kind of jarring.

With a sigh, he scrambled to his feet and eased past his little sister’s questioning look. “Come on. We’ll go to the Double C for breakfast.”

Several minutes and a hot shower later, Sam was feeling energetic, and grateful to see his sister. Stacy, with her dry humor and sharp tongue, always quick with a joke was a sight for sore eyes, a welcome reprieve from the chaotic energy of the past few weeks, and the pair fell in-step with each other as if no time had passed between when they were last together.

They walked to the diner, moving briskly down the sidewalk, making the trek in the chilly Maine morning, one they made so many times before. When they’d grown tired of mornings filled with cold cereal and colder sadness of the house, they would make their way to the cozy atmosphere that the diner offered, a home away from home and a break away from their own. The picture they made, comforting in its familiarity. The Evans kids, the quiet blond and the chatty one with the auburn curls.  

Luckily, their favorite booth was empty, and Sam slid in on one side, bouncing against the plastic vinyl that covered the seat and tugging the beanie from his head, fingers raking through his hair. There was no need to reach for the menu, he knew the damn thing by heart.

“Ugh, they still have the pumpkin pancakes with cinnamon butter” Stacy remarked fondly, clutching the plastic menu to her chest in a way that made Sam snort with laughter.

“Don’t lie, that’s the only reason you’re back.”

Slim shoulders raised in a shrug and she didn’t even bother to hide her grin. “More or less. But I guess I’m happy to see you, too.”

The waitress stopped by with coffee and to take their orders and Sam frowned only slightly when he realized Tina wasn’t there, but reasoned it was still pretty early and she most likely had a later shift. He hadn’t seen her since Halloween, and with all the weirdness he’d wanted to check on her. On all of them, really. Everyone had been quiet, no doubt trying to bounce back from the admittedly cruel trick that still made Sam incredibly uneasy…and annoyed.

He hadn’t realized he’d zoned out in his thoughts until he felt the sugar packet smack the side of his face, and he turned to find Stacy with yet another questioning look.

“What’s going on with you?”

It was his turn to shrug and he busied himself with adding cream and sugar to his coffee, distracted by the soft clink of the spoon knocking gently against the porcelain cup as he stirred. “Been a really weird week.”

“It’s only Monday.”

Sam fixed her with a blank look. “You know what I mean.”

“No, I don’t. Did something happen? Is it Dad?” The worry in her tone made his stomach tighten with uneasiness and briefly Sam wondered if that’s what really brought Stacy from her life at college and back into sinking, quiet, cold.

James had, for the most part, been fine…as much as Sam could tell. If he wasn’t at the bar, he was in his room and Sam had barely seen him. But nothing more had been set aflame and there were no new whispers of his father’s drunken exploits around town, so Sam assumed he was going through one of his sober-ish spells.

These were also familiar, and somehow more grating than when he was on a full-blown bender or completely dry. It was as if he would retreat even further, and without the crutch of alcohol he just seemed to simply perform life like a robot would, a shell of a functioning person. Aware, but willfully obtuse. There but not there.

It brought out a frustrated kind of fury in Sam, it always had. Remembering the times that Stacy, so happy to see him out and about and not under some whiskey cloud, would talk excitedly, trying to engage him in conversations about her day, rambling in her sweet way only to be met with an errant nod or stray mumble while James washed dishes or watched tv, leaving a look of hurt on his youngest child’s face and anger in his eldest.

And Sam wasn’t sure if talking with Hunter about the other’s own struggles with drinking was helping, though perhaps it was a little easier to understand his friend than his own father, where the well of sympathy and understanding had long gone dry, replaced by a resigned sort of resentment and rage that festered quietly within him. 

With a slow exhale, Sam lifted the cup and took a small sip of the coffee, immediately soothed by the heat and the smooth blend of the roast and shook his head. “It’s not. He’s in one of his moods, but that’s nothing new. Just a lot of stuff’s been happening around town.”

“Rachel’s still missing, isn’t she? I went to the pharmacy to pick up Dad’s prescription and Ms. Sullivan gave me the rundown. They had somebody in custody, and they let him go?”

It didn’t surprise him that Stacy kept up with the news in Castleport, nor that her first stop had been for their father, confirming that this was one of her ‘bad feelings’ trips. Or that Ms. Sullivan would be in the know.

“Yeah. The guy was a stalker. Real creep shit. I don’t know what’s going on, but I think he might’ve hurt her. The homecoming stuff was never solved, but the cops thought it was Hunter and Sugar, it was really messed up. The whole town’s been buzzing with all this bullshit. And then I get this invite to a Halloween party at Castle House that turns into a scavenger hunt and somehow ends up with my old classmates finding out all this fucked up shit about each other. So now they all know about Sloane.”

Stacy arched a brow, surprise etched in pretty features, though whatever she’d been about to say was paused once the waitress returned with their plates. Sam’s crisis was put on hold long enough for her to savor the pumpkin pancakes though he’d barely made a dent in his hash browns when she was back with choice words.

“Huh. Seems like I’ve really missed a lot.”

“That’s a good thing,” Sam replied. “You’ve got school. One of us has got to be the respectable Evans, and it’s clearly not gonna be the delinquent divorcé.”

The pair grinned at that and she tossed another sugar packet at him for good measure. The quiet, save for the plink of utensils scraping plates and the music playing softly throughout the diner was nice, and Sam savored the moments of peace with his sister, though he barely bit back a groan at her next question.

“So how’d Mercedes take it?”

He didn’t want to think about that, but Stacy was giving him that expectant eyebrow arch again and he knew she would keep asking until she got her answer. “She’s pissed. Can’t say I get why, though.”

Stacy rolled her eyes, completely unconvinced. “Okay, Samuel.”

“Alright, Anastasia.”

She wrinkled her nose. “You’re such a pain in the ass. Does your other girlfriend know about your ex-wife too? I’m sure Sugar’s got a lot to say about that.”

The ‘girlfriend’ of it all made him wince and Sam fixed her with another sharp glare. “You know what, how about we focus on you for a little bit. What about that IT nerd you were talking to?”

“Why when yours is way more fun,” Stacy dismissed with a wave of her hand and a bite of pancake. “Besides, Teddy just fixed my laptop when it crapped out on me. I’ve been talking to someone else who’s really cool but I won’t say much more about her because I don’t want to jinx it. Ask me more at Thanksgiving.”

It was nice, seeing his sister excited about more than just textbooks and her psychology journals so he simply offered her a smile and nodded. “Sure. But switch the subject, nosy.”

“Fine. We can talk about Thanksgiving. I think we should have it here, with Dad. I like staying with you in Boston too, but you’re here a lot now, maybe more if you really do open the shop. And I’m tired of alternating my time between you and him. So we should all spend it together.”

It seemed like the simplest of requests, an obvious one at that, and yet he was still caught off guard. And the knee-jerk reaction was to shut it all down, but he realized just how stubborn and unfair that would be to Stacy, who tried so hard to play the peacemaker role that Sam had long abandoned.

But she made the case for it, he was home more and even with all the weirdness happening in the small town, and the recent bomb drop of his ex-wife, it hadn’t deterred his plans to make his tattoo shop a reality. More than ever, the idea of carving out his own space in Castleport appealed to him. To make new, better memories in place of the ones that hampered him regularly.

“I’ll think about it, okay? I’ve still gotta get back to work and take care of shit in Boston, though.”

That seemed to appease his sister and she offered him a bright grin. “Good. I’ll be here for a few days so you’ll have plenty of time to think it over. In the meantime, we need to hit up Blue Brick after this. I’m craving a good donut.”

Sam shook his head, his laughter incredulous as he pointed to her completely empty plate. “You just took down a short stack of pancakes and now you want donuts?”

“Relax, we’ll burn it all off with walking. You’ll still have your perfect figure, pretty boy.” Her giggle grew when the sugar packet smacked her upside the head and Sam had to duck one of his own, and the warm feeling that settled in the pit of his stomach as they wiled away the better part of an hour inside the cozy warmth of the diner, savoring the familiar peace of it all.