#and she gives a proper third chance to sam to date her

[oceanwithinsblog]

so many things are happening in the second half of s5 ... i just need time to elaborate everything or else i may implode

[sweetness47]

Fixing His Regret

Pairing Dean x Reader

Word Count: 1731

Warnings: not many, sex scene, mentions of losing a loved one, being widowed while pregnant, pining, I think there might be one or two swear words? Rated 18+ just in case

This is for @idreamofplaid and her They Belong To Us Now challenge

Prompt #30: “Stay here tonight.” (paired with) Time travel/fix it

Also for SPN Fluff Bingo 2021 square: Childhood sweethearts

And for SPN Kink Bingo 2021 square: Saran Wrap

📷

Dean smiled down from heaven as he watched Sam have a family and enjoy life. It was what he always wanted for his brother. Truth be told, it was what he’d always wished for himself, but the one person he’d wanted for that role was the one person he’d run from long ago.

YN had been one of his friends growing up. Even with all the shit that had stormed through his life, she was the one thing that always kept him going. When his dad would drag them all over, he always wrote to her, and she would write back. When they were close enough to visit in person, she would often keep him company while he was watching Sam.

He'd run because she’d confessed to having feelings for him one night. They were 16. Instead of coming clean and confessing he was in love with her, he’d turned and run away. He stopped communicating with her. Stopped writing to her. All because he was afraid of his feelings. He was afraid that he would make her a widow from hunting. That was no life for someone as amazing as YN. She deserved better. She deserved stability. Marriage to a hunter wouldn’t give her that. She was better off without him. Or at least that’s what he told himself.

But he always thought about her. About the hurt look on her face when he’d walked away from her confession. He could clearly remember the tears pooling in her eyes, and for one second his resolve nearly crumbled. But he maintained that he was doing the right thing, and shut the door on that part of his life forever.

That time he’d tried playing house with Lisa, when Sam had died, it was ok. He filled the emptiness that Sam’s death had left in his chest, but often he wished he’d been able to find YN, beg for her forgiveness, praying that she wasn’t married to someone else.

But he never pursued her. He’d hurt her. He hated himself for destroying her heart like that.

“What are you thinking about Dean?”

Jack’s voice startled Dean. He jumped, then relaxed when he saw Jack approach. “A girl I once knew. She was amazing. Smart, funny, talented, and one of the few friends I had growing up.”

Jack was intrigued. “What happened to her?”

Dean hung his head in shame. “I walked away from her confession of love. I didn’t want her wrapped up in the life of a hunter.”

“Did you tell her that? Did you even ask her if that was a deal breaker? Or did you just assume she was better off.”

Jack’s words stopped Dean in his thoughts. He really hadn’t asked YN how she felt. She knew what his dad did, she’d always known since the first day. But she was too good for this life. She deserved better, didn’t she? He’d done the right thing when he’d walked away, right?

Jack shook his head. ���You didn’t ask her. Do you want that chance back? I can give you a second chance Dean. If you want it.”

Dean’s jaw dropped at Jack’s offer. “Seriously?”

Jack nodded.

Dean thought about it. How many times had he wished for a second chance? How many times had he wished he could go back and change that moment? Too many to count, that’s for certain.

“Do it.” Dean turned to Jack, who nodded again, and snapped his fingers.

**

Dean blinked, and as his eyesight adjusted, he found himself at a local diner he frequented a lot as a teenager, especially with YN, who happened to be sitting across from him. He remembered this day. It was the day before her confession to him.

He promised himself that this time, no matter what, he was not walking away. He was determined to stay, to keep her close, to cherish every moment he had with YN. She had been his world, and he would be an idiot to let her go a second time.

So the next evening, when she confessed she had feelings for him, he took her in his arms and admitted, “I love you too YN. A lot more than I ever thought possible.”

That was the moment they shared their first kiss. They became near inseparable after that night. When Dean dropped out of high school to keep his focus on Sam, he made sure to keep YN a part of their lives. She asked him to prom, stating there was no one else she’d rather spend the night with, and he happily said yes.

The first time they spent the night together, it was new for both of them, both physically, and mentally. Their relationship hit new heights. Dean never pushed YN, always the perfect gentleman. It was she who made the suggestion for him to stay.

The night of prom, after the dancing and celebrating were done, Dean had taken her home, like he always did after a date. She invited him in, and he accepted. Her dad was out for the weekend, having accompanied Dean’s dad on a hunt, so it was just the two of them. They cuddled and kissed, till the wee hours of the morning.

When Dean suggested he call it a night, and stood to leave, she caught his arm. “Dean? Don’t go. Stay here tonight. With me.”

Dean swallowed hard. “You sure?” he rasped.

YN nodded. “Definitely.”

Not another word was spoken as she took his hand and lead him to her bedroom. The frilly pink décor hardly occupied his thoughts. Instead, he moved to undress her, his hands shaking, mouth suddenly dry. YN was mirroring his movements, her own nerves showing as she fumbled with his clothes. When they finally free of the offending garments, he let out a low whistle.

“Beautiful.” He whispered.

YN blushed. “Back at ya.” She countered.

Dean leaned down to kiss her then, the passion burning through them as they slowly began to explore each other. Dean’s hand travelled to the sweet junction between her legs, and growled at the wetness he found. YN got a similar reaction when her hand brushed up against his rock solid erection.

Tumbling on to the bed, Dean began stroking YN’s core. She bucked and moaned as his fingers worked her sensitive nub, then slipped inside her tight channel. Her cries echoed off the walls as her walls clamped down on his fingers, her juices spilling free, coating the bed and his hand.

He moved over her. That’s when they both wondered the same thing. Protection.

“Do you have a condom?” she asked.

Dean shook his head. Shit!

YN’s face lit up suddenly. “Wait here. I have an idea.”

She raced out of the room, only to return moments later with a roll of Saran Wrap from the kitchen. Dean chuckled. “Nice.”

She tore off a piece and brazenly took initiative, wrapping his thick cock in the plastic. Then she was back on the bed, and Dean brought her legs up to wrap around his waist. She felt the blunt head as it pushed and stretched at her slick channel, past the virgin barrier, filling her. He kissed away her tears that silently fell, then he stilled, letting her get used to the feeling of him being inside.

When he moved again, she gasped as she came hard, the sensations overwhelming her. Dean thrust in and out, consuming and owning every part of her, body and soul, vowing that from this moment on, she was his, and only his.

The night and most of the next morning, Dean and YN explored their newfound status, making good use of the plastic wrap. They both giggled at the half gone roll as they finally placed it back into the kitchen pantry.

The following week, they spent near every moment together they could find, mostly because they couldn’t get enough of each other. For a graduation present, Dean managed to acquire the most stunning engagement ring, and presented it to her during the grad dinner. People cheered and clapped for the couple, but most importantly, YN’s father and Dean’s dad approved.

They married the following year. YN hunted with the boys, lived with them (obviously), sharing in their triumphs and their sorrows.

Their third year of marriage, YN presented Dean with a gift, their first child, a revelation she’d made known on Father’s day. It was the only child they chose to bring into the world before it was righted again by the brothers, and Jack.

Shortly after that day, YN found herself with child again. Her son was 12 now, and she was thrilled with the idea of surprising him again.

But that day never came.

YN was found herself widowed, and pregnant, after losing the love of her life in what should have been an easy outing for the boys. Sam and YN hugged and cried, as did John, Dean’s son, and made sure to give him a proper funeral fitting for a hunter.

Sam filled in as a male role model for John, while also finding love for himself. YN’s children, and Sam’s, were good friends as well as cousins.

Sam outlived YN by two years. He was there to keep her company when her son and daughter couldn’t. But the entire family were present when YN took her final breath. Both her son and daughter told her it was ok, that she could go and finally be with Dean.

When Dean saw his YN standing on the bridge, he ran to her and picked her up into his arms, swinging her around and showering her with kisses and tears. He praised her over and over about how well she’d done raising John and Mary, but more important, he let her know how happy he was to have her to hold again.

When Dean saw Jack standing there, looking at the two embracing, Dean smiled and hugged Jack, thanking him for giving him his heart back.

Jack just smiled and faded away, leaving the lovebirds to do some serious catching up.

@idreamofplaid @akshi8278 @drkcnry67 @lyarr24

[fangirlovestuff]

Cycle - Steve Rogers x reader ch.5

Previously:  ch.1 ch.2 ch.3 ch.4

Summary: The morning after, you quietly left. The days after, you were constantly screwing up. Will you stop thinking about Steve, or maybe you won’t need to?

Word Count: ~2,300

Warnings: explicit language, brief mentions of smut

a/n- hey lovely people! and just like that, another Steve series had come to an end. I had a lot of fun writing this series, and thank you so much to everyone who gave me feedback on it, it’s super appreciated! italics are for thoughts and divider is by @whimsicalrogers​. Enjoy!<3

The next morning you surprisingly woke up before Steve did, and used this opportunity to sneak out of his apartment, going back to your place to change before you had to be at work again.

On the way home, all kinds of thoughts flooded your mind, starting with should I have left a note? And all the way to this was the biggest fucking mistake ever, why didn't I try to resist it more, now everyone's gonna say I'm a slut, and they'll be right.

But amidst that rose the memories of last night, of the feeling of Steve surrounding you, his hot breath against your skin, falling asleep in his arms. And you knew, if you had a time machine, no matter how much you're overthinking this now – you'd do it again.

The realization caused you to shake out of your reverie, breathing out a shaky breath and looking around the street to ground yourself a little.

Nothing was gonna happen, it's all gonna be okay, and even if Steve will never talk to me again, he'll still respect what we agreed on, you calmed yourself down as you entered your apartment, getting ready for another day.

Steve entered the training room, his thoughts still wandering to the events of last night. When he woke up this morning, you were already gone, but his amplified senses could still pick up on the scent of your perfume on the sheets next to him. He understood why you did it. He was old, but he still understood the social conventions of hooking up, and he knew what it meant when he agreed. But there was still a part of him that hoped to wake up and see your face. Maybe even get a chance to see you fall apart under him once more.

He shook those thoughts away. This is what you wanted, and he should respect it. this is when your paths part. For some reason, he felt sadder than he probably should've been. And yet, he couldn't help but feel a sense of smugness at the events of last night.

When he put his bag down he was greeted by a friendly slap on his shoulder. Smirking, he immediately turned around, catching onto the arm and tossing the "attacker" onto the floor. Sam sighed and rolled his eyes. "You knew it was me, man," he complained as Steve extended his hand to him and he got up.

"Always be ready," Steve shrugged and moved towards the middle of the mattress-covered floor. Sam narrowed his eyes towards Steve and followed him, standing in front of him and getting into position.

"You seem to be in an awfully good mood," Sam remarked. "Any reason why?"

"You, Sam," Steve said in mock emotion, "You are my sun and stars, and getting to see you this morning is the abso—"

Sam charged at Steve, but the latter quickly dodged his punch and kicked his leg, making Sam lose his balance and fall down for the second time that morning.

Steve chuckled. "Relax, Wilson," he said, "a little sarcasm hasn't killed anyone yet, and I for one don't want that to change."

Sam's face lit up with understanding. "You finally did it you bastard! You got laid! Who was it?"

Steve couldn't keep his face from blushing. Was he really being that obvious?  "None of your business. Besides, it was a one-night thing anyway," he shrugged, trying to regain his composure.

"Hey, if you don't wanna tell me, I'm fine with that. But when Barnes gets his hands on you…" Sam grinned.

Steve groaned. "Fuck," he whispered under his breath, fully knowing if Sam managed to figure it out, Bucky would too. "That's a problem for later," he shook his head. "For now, I think you need a refresher on balance," he raised his brow at Sam.

"Whatever," Sam scoffed, "fucking super soldiers," he grumbled while he got into position once more.

It's been five days since you last talked to Steve. Not that you were counting or anything. Five days of making a complete fool out of yourself were just kind of a lot.

The first day you thought you had it under control. Even though last night didn't involve as much sleep, you drank some coffee and figured it would be okay. You started daydreaming and nearly fell asleep, leaving your mixture to cool for too long, noticing it only when Kate tapped your shoulder to get your attention and having to start it all over again.

Well, the first day should be the worst and then it'll be fine right?

The second day you were thinking about whether you should text Steve or not while you were diluting a solution you were working on, but got the different concentrations confused and needed to start again, costing you more time and materials.

The third day you thought it would surely stop. After that day you needed to get a new fire extinguisher for the lab.

The fourth was Saturday, so thankfully you didn't have opportunities to embarrass yourself anymore, right?

Except you went out with your friends, got drunk and told them that you slept with this "super" cute guy and how everyone hates you now because you mess everything up. They calmed you down and comforted you at the moment, but they also got that on video and god knows you're never living that one down.

Thankfully, drunk me was still smart enough not to tell them who it was, you mused as you watched the video, your head pounding on Sunday, the fifth day since you had last spoken to Steve Rogers.

Which brings us here, Monday morning, five days after That Night.

You entered the office, setting down your bag and going over some paperwork when Kate knocked on your door.

"Hi! Come in," you greeted her with a smile.

"Good morning," she smiled back. "Listen, I wanted to talk to you. I don't want to overstep, but you've seemed a little… distracted, these last few days, and I was wondering why? I mean, you don't have to tell me if you don't want to, obviously, but if it could help you…" she trailed off, a little awkwardly.

You sighed. "No, it's okay, I should probably give at least a little explanation for my actions. But you're gonna think it's stupid," you warned with a smile. She nodded at you to go on anyway.

You wondered how you should phrase it. "Well, I guess I've been trying not to date for a while, to focus on my career here, you know. But a few days ago I went on a date with this guy and it was wonderful, but I haven't talked to him and he didn't talk to me and I'm just… wondering if I should try to change that," you said. That was close enough to the truth.

Kate pondered what you said for a moment and then spoke. "The way I see it," she said, "you need closure. Just try to talk to him. If something comes out of it, great, if he doesn't answer, that's still fine. Either way you're better off knowing, because if the last few days are any indication, I'd say you feel very bad not knowing," she said with a teasing smile.

"Maybe you're right," you smiled. "Anyways, I'm really sorry for the last few days. But it won't happen today. At least I'm pretty sure it won't happen today," you added with a chuckle. "I'll join you in the lab in a few minutes," you smiled at her and she nodded and left.

Much like you, Steve also wasn't having a great time.

That first day he ended up seeing Bucky, which earned him pestering for the rest of the day, but he adamantly refused to reveal your identity even to Bucky.

"C'mon Buck," Steve rolled his eyes. "I'm not telling you. That's it."

"That means it's someone I know! Oh, is it – "

"Lalalala, I can't hear anything you're saying," Steve reverted to the childish method and put his hands over his ears.

"Fine, sheesh. You gonna see her again at least?" Bucky asked.

"I don't know," Steve said with a sigh.

Steve's smugness only lasted the first day, and the rest of them were filled with increasing disappointment.

The second day Bucky managed to hit him in the face with his metal arm because he wasn't paying enough attention.

The third they had a briefing for a coming up mission, and Steve nearly fell from his chair at the sound of his phone beeping, thinking it could be you.

Saturday and Sunday were spent alone in his apartment, finishing the painting of the skyline and ignoring Sam's and Bucky's texts. When he finished the painting he was so tempted to ask Bucky for your phone number and send you a picture of it, but he figured that would be weird. Instead, he started another painting, and without even noticing he started sketching your face. Way to go Rogers, you managed to be weird anyway, he thought and threw away the sketch.

When he came to work Monday, he thought he got over the whole deal.

Sam greeted him at the training room, ready for another mission. "You alright Rogers?" he asked.

"Oh yeah, my phone was just turned off," Steve shrugged, thinking Sam was wondering why he was… how do they say it? ghosting him?

"I didn't mean this weekend," Sam said, "how did you let Barns get you that good last week?"

"I guess I was just distracted," Steve shrugged, getting in position.

"You never get distracted," Sam stated, "you are literally the most prim and proper person I know. That one time Bucky and I argued for an hour next to you, and you didn't even notice, what's up?"

"That's not true, I did notice, I just ign-"

"See, that's a lie, because if you actually got distracted by what we were doing while you worked you would've asked which time I was talking about," Sam smirked.

"Whatever," Steve rolled his eyes, a small smile on his face.

"So, who's getting you so distracted? Was it mystery girl?"

"Um, yeah," Steve chuckled. "Look, it doesn't really matter right now, we should –"

"I knew it!" Sam laughed, "you just can't do one-night-stands, can you?"

"I-" Steve trailed off.

"Look man, it's just who you are. Go talk to her," Sam said.

"Maybe," Steve said, and then, without warning, made a blow at Sam that he managed to avoid.

"Always be prepared, right?" Sam said, a smug smile on his face.

"Right," Steve answered, smiling.

You were just packing up in your office, ready to go home. Thankfully, today had been free of awkward mistakes.

There was a knock at your door and you called them to come in, thinking it could be Kate, but in front of you was standing, causing you a serious Deja-vu, Steve. I spoke too soon didn't I?

"Hey," he said, scratching his neck.

"Hi," you whispered unintentionally. You cleared your throat and asked in a stronger voice, "Uh, can I help you?"

"Well, yeah," Steve said. "I wanted to ask… will you listen until the end of what I'm about to say?" he smiled and chuckled awkwardly.

"Sure," you frowned a little and came to stand in front of him.

"I was kind of… making a fool of myself the last few days. Not calling you was the main foolish thing but also, Bucky hit me in the face because I was thinking about calling you," he grimaced. "And… I know we agreed about no strings attached, but I can't stop thinking about you. In a non-creepy way," he quickly added with another awkward chuckle. "So, I wanted to ask if maybe you'd like to attach the strings?" he smiled. "Go on a date sometime? Obviously, I get it if you say no, but I just really wanted to ask. So, yeah," he looked away at the bookshelves surrounding you.

You gladly refrained from telling him about the times you’ve made a fool of yourself those days. "Yes, I'd love to go on a date sometime," you smiled and put your hand on his cheek, drawing his gaze towards yours. His face lit up with a smile, and then he was kissing you. It was the kind of kisses that left you breathless, the kind of kisses you felt like you could live on. Maybe even a true love's kiss.

"It's probably because you had a really good teacher. I mean, with that level of game, how could I say no?" you smiled.

"Probably," Steve agreed with a soft smile.

You couldn't contain yourself and kissed him again, cupping his face in your hands while his large hands were placed on your waist, drawing you close.

"Pay up, Barnes," Sam said smugly.

"No way! Look, what if the mystery girl is-"

Bucky trails off and smirks once he sees the two people who are walking through the lobby, where he and Sam were standing. Sam turns around and sees what he sees – You and Steve, walking hand in hand, giving each other total heart eyes. Steve raises your connected palms and kisses the back of your hand.

"Shit," Sam said under his breath.

"Pay up, birdman!" Bucky said with a shit-eating grin.

It's funny how life works. Right when you decide to stray clear of men, it brings you the sweetest one you've ever met, and you can't resist his baby blue eyes, looking at you so adoringly. Once you decide to be a little more of a player, change to get what you want, it brings you the most beautiful woman who doesn't need you to change at all.

In this case, opposites definitely attract. Together, they can achieve the most beautiful thing in the world – love.

and the curtain goes down on another Steve series. Thank you so much for reading, ily<3

Taglist:  @horny-nd-bored​ @shannon124 @perfectlyharolds​ @wintersoldierslut​ @iceebabies​  @sleepingpapermouse @steverogerswasalwaysworthy @holtzkinnon @angelicl-y @stydia-4-ever @thatoneperson5000 @fangirlfree​ @kaitcordx25 @bequeening​ @steve-barry-damon-logan​ @itscrazycherryblossomcollection​ @hollandxmarvel​ @stargazingfangirl18 @readsreblogsfics @onetwo3000 @beritmetal @harrystylesholland @jazbot2000

Cycle Taglist: @dee-vn @alex747 @itsangelpie-supports

if you wanna join / be removed from these taglists, comment/message me! much love <3

[starbuckie]

Some Quarantine Lovin’ Chapter Five: Love is a Many Splendored Thing

Marvel Highschool! AU

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Warnings: Obscene amounts of fluff, kissing, swearing, kinda a lot of angst

Description: Bucky Barnes is absolutely, no doubt about it, in love with Y/N L/N. He’s loved her since the day he laid eyes on her in the third grade. He loved her when he had his own girlfriend, and when he was barely friends with her for a whole summer. And of course, in his freshman year, they are now stuck together. In a house. During a worldwide quarantine. This should be fun.

**WARNING: MENTIONS OF DEATH, CAR CRASH, MENTIONS OF ABUSE, AND INJURY IN THIS CHAPTER** 

Words:  5,207 words

A/N: Hey guys! We’re almost at the end of this series, and I’m a little sad. This was my first ever fic, so it’s always gonna be my baby. This chapter deals with death, mentions of abuse, and a car crash, so if you didn’t see my warning above, and you are triggered by any of these things, please do not read because I don’t want to upset any of you. However, if you do read and find something offensive, please please contact me and I will do my best to fix it, and I don’t mean any harm at all, and am sorry in advance. Also, I listened to this “howlos” playlist while writing this and it is an absolute masterpiece. Moving on from that, thank you so much to my beta @transparentfestivaltiger as always, and thank you for reading!

(also seb looks like a freakin’ baby here)

Things didn’t change as much as Bucky thought they would after he and Y/N confessed to each other. They still had the same sweet friendship from before, but now they could sneak in a kiss or two, and there were a lot more heated glances and affection.��

As soon as Y/N’s parents had come home that evening, they knew exactly what had happened. Of course, Mary and Charlie L/N had known that the pair of best friends liked each other: it had been obvious since the third grade. Though Y/N and Bucky may have not realized it that early, they had practically been an old married couple since the beginning of their friendship. Now that they were in a “relationship”(or as much of one as they could be in while quarantined together), they weren’t allowed to sleep in the same room together, and they were watched a lot closer. While Bucky blushed and apologized every time Y/N’s parents caught them kissing, Y/N laughed. She knew her parents were happy for her, and frankly, it was adorable to see Bucky turn into a bumbling mess. 

It had only been two weeks into quarantine when they had kissed, so they unfortunately still had to go to classes. Of course, no one else knew about it but their friends, but Bucky wanted to yell it to the world, thus having him proclaim, “I kissed Y/N L/N!” in their physics class, which disturbed Mr. Fury, but he congratulated them nonetheless. Yeah, there was non stop teasing from their classmates after that. 

The weeks kept rolling by, and soon enough, they had a week off of school for spring break, when Bucky took his best girl on a date. The two claimed to be in a relationship, but after Sam pointed out that Bucky had never actually asked Y/N out on a first date, he panicked. With the help of her parents, he managed to pull off a date at Prospect Park, right by the big lake. Bucky had insisted on being a “proper gentleman” like his mama has taught him, and went so far as to pick Y/N up from the front door, which her parents swore was the cutest thing they had ever seen. He made his mom’s old pumpkin pancake recipe, and they had breakfast for lunch, sitting in the grass, just talking for hours, and trying to refrain from removing their masks so they could make out with each other. Once it had finally hit evening, they walked hand in hand on the way back to her house and spent the rest of the night watching movies and cuddling.

After that, the duo wanted to spend the rest of spring break catching up on sleep that they had missed, but Y/N’s mom forced them to wake up at eight in the morning every day that week to get exercise. Neither of them were pleased. However, as much as they disliked the exercise, it gave them a chance to be alone. Y/N and Bucky went on tons of walks around Brooklyn, strolling down memory lane as they found someplace that they had forgotten about from when they were younger. It was nice for the two of them to just talk about their futures and how much the virus would affect it. 

Spring break was unwillingly coming to an end, but Mr. L/N refused to let either one of the students be seen in online classes until they had cut their hair. Sure, it was only mid-April, but Bucky’s hair had turned into a messy flop of brown hair that fell just past his ears. While Y/N opted to cut her hair herself(which resulted in a choppy, uneven cut that Bucky and her family made fun of), Bucky asked Y/N to cut it for him.

“Are you sure, Buck?” She chided. “You saw how mine came out, and you make fun of it, yet you still ask me to do it?”

The messy-haired boy sat in a chair in the bathtub, in just his boxers, holding a spray bottle of water. “Y/N, your hair may look like shit,” he grinned at her face of mock offense, “But I trust you completely with mine. Plus, you’ll actually be looking at it while you cut.”

“I was looking when I did my hair!” Y/N argued.

Bucky laughed at her exasperation. “If you were looking in the mirror while cutting that, it makes it so much more sad.” She scoffed at his witty comeback and snipped off a piece of his hair. “Hey, give me a warning!”

“Sorry, baby,” she giggled. “Are you ready now?” With a deep exhale and nod of his head, Y/N took the spray bottle from his hands and began to dampen his hair. It didn’t take too long, just a few quick snips by the base of his neck, and she considered it done, and a hell of a lot less scruffy looking. She had spent her last day of break looking at styles and instructions on how to cut hair on Pinterest, and while she knew she wasn’t a professional, she thought she did pretty damn well.

“Okay, Buck, you can look now.” Y/N handed him a small compact mirror, and he dramatically squeezed his eyes shut. Rolling her eyes at his reaction, she said, “Come on, quit being a drama queen. I think you look very handsome.”

Finally, Bucky opened his eyes and looked at his shorter cut. She was right, it didn’t look too bad, and he looked less “homeless” as her father had called it. Running a hand through his freshly cut hair, he grinned, but stopped after taking in her words. “Was I not handsome before, doll?” He wore a small frown on his face, which Y/N kissed off.

“Buck, you’re always handsome, don’t be silly.”

He smirked and pulled her onto his lap. “I know.”

She leaned her head down on his shoulder and whispered, “Cocky bastard.” He delivered a pinch to her hip, which made her yelp. Grinning, he kissed her and she turned in his lap to straddle him. Her hands slipped into his freshly cut hair and tugged, making him moan a little into her parted lips. During their make out, however, they didn’t hear the footsteps of Mrs. L/N, and only looked up when they heard her groan. 

“Good lord, can you two not keep your hands off of each other for five goddamn seconds?” Y/N quickly got up from Bucky’s lap under her mom’s careful watch. “Ria is on the phone, right now, but I’ll tell her to call back.”

At the mention of her older sister, Y/N jumped out of the bathtub. “No! No, I'm here, let me talk to her!” She scrambled to get to the phone, but slipped on the bath mat and landed on the tile with an “oof”. Bucky, being the protective boyfriend he was, immediately got up and ran to her.

“Are you okay, doll?” Her nose was a little red from bumping it on the ground, but she grinned nonetheless. Ria’s laughter could be heard over the phone, and her mom was trying very hard to stifle her laughter. With a quick nod, she took Bucky’s hand and got up.

“I’m great! Ria, you’re a little shit.” The girl stalked over to the phone and started talking and squabbling animatedly with her sister on the call. 

Bucky and Mrs. L/N took one look at each other and started cracking up together. She pulled him into a hug, and whispered, “You make her so happy, Bucky. Thank you so much.”

He looked up to this mother figure of his and shook his head. “No. Thank you, Mrs. L/N, for being so happy for us. To be honest, I didn’t think you or Mr. L/N would be too happy ‘cuz of my father.”

The older woman frowned at Bucky and looked at him dead in the eyes. “You have nothing to feel guilty about, Bucky. Your father doesn’t define you as a person and trust me, James, you are the best kid that I know. You take good care of your little sister and all who you love, and every day I think about how lucky your mother was that she got to have a kid like you.��

Bucky’s eyes started to fill with tears, but he managed to whisper out a “thank you” with a croaky voice. Dropping a kiss to his forehead, Mrs. L/N walked away, leaving him with a sad smile on his face until Y/N popped her head back into the bathroom.

“Buck! Ria wants to talk to us both! She misses you a ton.” He wiped the tears from his eyes, which Y/N noticed, but didn’t mention, and went to grab his hand to walk to her bedroom and talk to Ria.

School started again the next day, leaving the six students in their friend group complaining and nearly on the verge of crying within the first two classes. They didn’t have finals this year, but teachers still assigned them “tests”, which really were the same thing with a different name. 

As it grew closer and closer to the end of the year, it became hotter and hotter, Y/N and Bucky becoming sweaty messes in their study rooms. One particular early May afternoon, Y/N sat in her bedroom, waiting for her play rehearsal to start. This year, they were (going) to put on a production of Steve Martin’s Picasso at the Lapin Agile. She was cast as Freddy, the local Parisian bartender, so she was working on her accent with her lines from her script.

“Yeah, well, we're all writers, aren't we? He's a writer that hasn't been published, and I'm a writer who hasn't written anything.” Y/N spoke loudly. From behind her, she heard a booming laugh.

Bucky stood in her doorway, grinning, no shirt on due to the blaring hot weather. “If that was your French accent, then you definitely need to keep working on it.”

He walked into the room, swooping down to place a kiss on Y/N’s awaiting lips. His arms would’ve wrapped themselves around her shoulders, but she quickly pushed him back. Chucking at his frowning expression, she said, “It is way too hot to be hugging me right now, but we can settle for a romantic high five.”

“A what?” 

She sighed like it was the most obvious thing. “Well, as much as I would love to, I cannot hug you right now because it’s too hot. What I can offer you, however, is a romantic high five. A high five that says, we’re not just friends, but we’ve been dating for about a month and it’s not just platonic.”

Amused expression on his face, he plopped himself down on her bed. “And how would one share a ��romantic high five’ with their ridiculously beautiful girlfriend?” Grinning, she walked over to him and gave him a high five while kissing him. He smiled against her lips, and asked, “Like that?”

With one more peck, she sat back in her seat and picked up her phone. “Exactly like that.” They were fools who were completely, and utterly in love with each other, though neither of them had said it to the other yet. Lovesick smiles painted on their faces, they both sat staring at each other until Mrs. L/N suddenly broke into the room, wide eyes teary and a frown on her face. Both of the kids looked to each other, then at the mom. 

“Mom, what is it?” It was concerning for Y/N to see her mom in this panicked state, considering that her mom was well put together, and she had only seen her break down on a few occasions. 

She turned to Bucky, and with a small voice, said, “It's your father, Bucky. He’s gotten into a crash.”

Silence.

That was all that was left in the room. When Bucky’s heartbeat stopped pounding, he could hear his harsh breathing and see Y/N in front of him, her hand covering his heart. “James, can you hear me? You passed out.” Her hand moved to his cheek to wipe off tears he hadn’t even known were falling. “My mom’s getting Becca into the car so we can go to the hospital, though I told her you might not want to go right now. He’s going to be in surgery for the next few hours, but it’s whatever you need, okay, James? Whatever you need.”

He sat up, grabbing Y/N’s hands and squeezing on to them tight. “I want to go.” Though Bucky was worried, he pulled himself together on the outside. Goddamn it, Barnes, he thought, pull yourself the fuck together. He knew he was being too harsh on himself, but it was part of his nature, and he couldn’t get rid of the nagging voice in his head telling him to do better. “I’ll go put a shirt on and meet you guys in the car. Do your parents have masks?” Y/N nodded, tears in her eyes, and placed a featherlight kiss to his forehead before he left.

He grabbed a hoodie from the guest room, and turned to leave, but saw Becca’s baby animal book. It had been his before, something his mom would read to him to calm him down, and he saw it as his comfort object. Snagging it from the bedside table, he ran through the halls and out the door, where he saw Mr. and Mrs. L/N sitting in the front, and Y/N waiting for him with the car door open on the left side. He and Y/N climbed into the back seat and strapped themselves in, trapping Becca in her car seat in between the two teens. 

Becca’s pretty blue eyes were teary, and she whimpered quietly, almost as if she knew what was going on around her. She was just one year old, still so innocent, and wasn’t even aware that her father never looked after her, or beat her mother before she had died giving birth to her. Bucky grabbed onto her foot softly, an action that consoled Becca’s quiet cries. 

The car rumbled beneath them, and Y/N looked over to Bucky on the other side of the car. His face was stoic, staring out of the window with a sheen of calm surrounding him. His eyes weren’t teary anymore, but she could see the storm that was brewing beneath them. She knew that he was worrying a lot, his thoughts probably a jumbled mess of negativity, and underlying guilt. It wasn’t his fault, not even close, but she knew for a fact he was blaming himself anyway. She reached over to lay her palm over the hand that was holding Becca’s foot, and Bucky looked over to Y/N’s eyes, and gave her a small, sad smile. 

The rest of the car ride was silent, Y/N’s parents choosing to say nothing, knowing that Bucky didn’t want to talk. He would always get closed off with his emotions during hard times, and it took him a very long time to open up about his feelings. When the New York-Presbyterian Brooklyn Methodist Hospital came into view, Bucky’s heart started to beat at an alarming rate. 

“Y/N, Bucky, how about we drop you off at the front, okay? Tell them that you are his son, they’ll help you.” Y/N’s mom was facing them, trying to remain calm. Bucky nodded, and when they pulled up to the front, the two students worked together to get Becca out of her seat and jump out of the car. Y/N hoisted the small baby up onto her hip as Bucky grabbed her hand and led them inside the doors. 

The light was an unnatural blinding white, and people surrounded the waiting room with masks on. There were people sleeping, people tapping their feet nervously, and people looking like they would love nothing more than to get out of the room. Briskly, the two marched up to the reception desk. Surprisingly, it was Bucky who spoke up.

“Excuse me, ma’am, my name is James Barnes, I’m the son of George Barnes, and I believe he’s in surgery right now. His contacts are the same for all of us, and I think you called a Mary L/N to inform us of the accident.”

The pretty blonde at the desk looked surprised at the straightforward greeting from the young boy, but she just adjusted her mask over her nose a bit more and nodded. After a few seconds of typing, she turned to the side and grabbed a file of paperwork. “Hi James, my name is Tina, and I’m a nurse here. Your dad is going to be in surgery for about an hour more I believe, but here’s the paperwork that you or Mrs. L/N are going to need to fill out. If you have any questions, you can come ask me.”

With a quick thank you to Tina, the three children went to go sit in the back of the waiting room, where a small cluster of seats stood. Y/N texted her mom to let her parents know that they had made it inside quickly while Bucky started filling out the forms. “Wait, Y/N, can you ask your mom to bring the book that’s sitting in the backseat?” 

He knew it was trivial, but he really needed that book. Y/N could see the pleading in his eyes, and nodded without question. She would have to ask him later. “Of course, James.” She always called him James during serious moments, knowing that it was what his mom called him, and it soothed him a lot. He continued to fill out the information he knew on the papers. About ten minutes later, Mr. and Mrs. L/N came in, masks on and book in hand from the parking lot. There was only one seat left, so Mr. L/N let his wife sit as he stood and looked around the area. 

It was surprisingly very quiet for the next hour and a half. Bucky had finished the paperwork with the help of Mrs. L/N within thirty minutes, but he spent the rest of his time assuring Steve’s family he was okay on a phone call and reading the baby book to Becca over and over again. 

“Not a hot dog; my hot dog.” Bucky spoke in a higher pitched voice than normal. He was always gentle with his little sister, wanting her to know that he was a calming, caring presence in comparison to his loud father. Becca pointed to the pigeon holding a hot dog on the page, giggling and spouting nonsensical baby gurgles. 

Y/N smiled at the two, and closed her eyes while listening to Bucky read the children’s book. Though he had read it numerous times in their time in the waiting room, his soothing voice just lulled her to sleep even more. She hummed a song under her breath, and let sleep take over her. 

“Mary L/N! Is there a Mary L/N in here?” A nurse dressed in baby blue scrubs and a mask entered the waiting room and Bucky shot out of his chair. Y/N rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and brought Becca closer to her chest. As Y/N’s mom raised her hand, the nurse walked towards them. “Can I talk to you alone please?”

Bucky and Y/N looked at each other with confusion written on their faces, but Mrs. L/N answered the kind nurse before Bucky could open his mouth. “Of course, lead the way.”

He knew what this meant. There was no other reason that the nurse would ask to speak to the parent alone, and his heartbeat started speeding up again. A lump rose in his throat, and he was barely able to say, “Can I hold my sister please?” Y/N nodded, knowing what the nurse and her mom were talking about as well. She handed the now quiet baby over to his shaking hands, and looked into his eyes. 

They didn’t even shed a tear.

Bucky could barely remember walking down the white hallways, turning the corner, taking deep breaths and holding onto Mrs. L/N’s hand. Y/N and her dad weren’t allowed in, as they were trying to keep as low of a number as possible inside the room, so he didn’t have the comfort of his girlfriend being there with him as he faced one of his greatest fears. 

The room was quiet when they entered, another nurse and a doctor standing at the foot of the bed where George Barnes lay. His eyes were shut from what Bucky could see, but his head was bruised and covered in a bandage, most likely covering a shaved head and gaudy scars. “He was drunk, James, he didn’t have control, and the other car didn’t see him either. He had serious trauma to the head, and a broken wrist when he entered surgery. George was in critical condition when he was brought in, but he died in surgery. I’m sorry.”

Bucky managed to nod numbly and look down at his dad. He didn’t know what to say to him. “We’ll give you a few minutes alone.” The nurses and doctor shuffled out of the room and Mrs. L/N placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder.  

“Do you want me to leave, James?” Again, he softly nodded without a word and didn’t look up as her footsteps echoed away in the empty room. Bucky secured his arms around Becca better as he walked over to take his father’s cold hand.

Bucky could only hear his heartbeat, as all the monitors were off. Even his little sister was quiet, her small squirms nonexistent. He took a few deep breaths through his mouth,and let them out through his nose. His blue eyes focused on his father’s hands, ones that used to bring him so much pain and suffering, that now laid limp and still. Finally, Bucky let out the three words that he had never heard back from his father. 

“I love you.” Pause. Becca started moving around again, but he shushed her gently. “I think that’s all that needs to be said. Goodbye.”

He placed a soft kiss on his dad’s temple, and left quickly. As soon as he opened the door, he pushed past all the people waiting for them to be done and made his way back to Y/N in the waiting room. He could hear the doctor calling his name after, but Mrs. L/N must have stopped him because he stopped hearing it after a while. Y/N stood up when she saw Bucky, but he silently grabbed her hand and led them outside. Glancing over her shoulder, she shooed her dad away, and followed him outside.

She didn’t speak until they were back in the car. They had walked around for a while, realizing they didn’t know where it was. Settling into their seats, Y/N took the bottle of hand sanitizer from the front seat cup holder and squeezed some into both of their hands. “Are you okay, James?” 

He looked at her with a straight face. “Yeah.” She frowned with his short answer, but she knew he wasn’t telling the whole truth.

“Bucky, you know it’s okay to cry, it’s just me here. It’s okay to let your emotions out sometimes. You can talk to me, like always.” She reached over to take his hand, but he moved it away. She knew it was just part of what he was feeling, but she couldn’t help but to feel hurt either way. 

“I don’t need to let my emotions out, I’m fine,” he responded in a clipped voice. Y/N nodded softly and placed her hand on Becca’s foot, wondering what had happened. Sure, Bucky had had times where he wouldn’t talk to anyone, but eventually she would always be able to get to the bottom of it and support him. This new, closed off feeling from him was different for her, and she didn’t know what had gone wrong. It was quiet for the next twenty minutes as they waited for Y/N’s parents, and even then they barely spoke. As soon as they got back to the house in Brooklyn Heights, Bucky took Becca and immediately went to their room. Y/N let out a dejected sigh and started to head to her room to email the director of her play, when her mom stopped her. 

“Honey, give him some time, okay? He’s just lost his father, and I know that he doesn’t like to talk about his feelings, but it’s different now. Both of his parents have passed, and it’s a really big change for him.” She brought her daughter into a hug and dropped a kiss on her cheek before retiring to her room. Y/N walked into her room, flopping on her bed, quiet tears for her boyfriend rolling down her face.

Bucky didn’t attend dinner that night, which was okay with the rest of them. Y/N was still having a hard time not going to his room and smothering him in sweet nothings and hugs, but she understood that he needed time to process the past few hours. Her mom was right: it was a huge change. He was now orphaned, and only fifteen. Eventually, he’d need new guardians, and none of his close family was alive, and his other relatives from Romania probably had no clue he existed.

At around one in the morning, when Y/N’s parents had fallen asleep, Y/N crept out of her room quietly to check on Bucky. The door creaked a bit when it opened, giving her a view of her boyfriend sitting cross-legged on the bed, shoulders shaking from his silent sobs. He looked up upon hearing the door open, and wiped his tears off as fast as he could. “Hey, doll.”

She didn’t say anything but simply pushed him back down onto the bed gently and wrapped her arms around him. It took a few seconds, but the tears started falling again, his crying quiet. Y/N just held him for a few minutes, as he let out his tears, and rubbed his chest soothingly. When he was done, he kissed her gently and said, “Thank you.” It took another few moments, but he started talking soon enough. “I shouldn’t be sad. Right? I mean, he’s the man who hit me and my ma relentlessly, and all my life has been nothing but hell because of him. I should be fucking celebrating right now. Right?”

His watery blue eyes stared into hers, and she sighed, taking Bucky’s hands and bringing them to a sitting position. “I think it makes sense.” Y/N whispered.

Makes sense? It made no sense to him. “How can you say that?” He questioned incredulously. “This man treated us like shit, he blamed Becca for my mom’s death, he would hit me, tell me I’m not good enough,and I still worked my ass off for him. He didn’t love us! And after all the shit he put us through, put me through, why do I still care? Why do I still love him? It doesn't make sense.” Hot tears slipped down his face again, as he whispered, “It doesn’t make sense.”

He started to cry again, and Y/N pulled his head into the crook of her neck as his arms latched like vices around her torso. Running her fingers through his short brown hair, she said, “It may not make sense to you, but no matter what, as horrible as he was, that man is still your father. What he did to you was evil, pure evil, it truly was, but I can understand why after everything you’ve been through, you still love him. It doesn’t make you less of a man or weak. It makes you stronger, and I can’t be more proud of the person you’ve become since I met you. You have nothing to feel sorry for, James Buchanan Barnes. This is not your fault. None of this is.”

She moved her lips to his, and they moved against each other languidly. “I love you, James.”

His eyes opened, and hers watered up at her confession. “I love you too, Y/N.” They brought their lips together again, her thumbs rubbing small circles onto his cheekbones as they breathed each other in. When they finally pulled away, Bucky had the smallest of smiles playing across his lips. “Thank you, Y/N.”

Y/N made sure Bucky was staring at her directly, and she spoke with a firm voice. “Whatever comes next, we’ll get through it together. I promise, James.” Pressing his lips against hers one more time, he grabbed his phone off the stand and started to swipe through it. “Are you okay, Buck? You need anything? We can talk more if you need.”

Opening Spotify, he opened his “Slow Dance with Y/N” playlist. “I Can’t Believe That You’re In Love With Me” by Billie Holiday started playing, and Y/N knew exactly what he was doing. Bucky had had the playlist since the sixth grade, when he first bought his phone with the money he earned from babysitting, and the pair had danced to it numerous times before he had started dating Dot. But he didn’t even play that with her. No, this one was for his best girl, no matter what. Y/N was too special to share with anyone. Offering her his left hand with a shy grin, Y/N smiled big with an eye roll and graciously accepted it.

“Oldies music again, Bucky?” She was teasing him, and he knew it as well. Y/N absolutely adored this playlist, that he made just for the two of them, with her entire heart. Pulling her flush against his chest, his right hand coming to rest on her waist, he kissed her hair lightly.

“Well, you have always called me old fashioned, sweetheart.” He twirled her around, her giggling as they danced around the room. Becca slept soundly in the crib and the moonlight illuminated their faces. “I think this song fits in well right now.”

Y/N sighed, letting her eyes close. “It really does.” After a few seconds, she remembered her previous question that had gone unanswered and asked again. “Are you sure you don’t want to talk about anything else, Buck?”

“I think I’m done, doll. I don’t want to talk about it anymore. Just wanna dance with you.”

And he did, softly dancing barefoot, with the occasional twirl, until falling asleep hours later. When Y/N’s parents came to check in on them the next morning, they smiled seeing their daughter and the boy she loved so dearly wrapped around each other, quiet snores escaping the both of them.

TAGLIST

@transparentfestivaltiger​ @barnesjamcs​ @kitkatd7​ @adorkably​

[selfshippingwhore]

Ship’s List.

.A/n: SO i decided to make a list for my Oc’s...Muse? my girl Brooke’s Ships, her role in the universe and who I ship her with.

This is a work in progress thing, I have four characters down but I will add more.

Other Characters that will become detailed later on that can be asked about:

Bolded are the favorites right now.

Gabriel Reye’s

Joel Miller.

Bigby Wolf.

Arthur Morgan

Chris Redfield.

Johnny Cage.

Sharky Boweshaw.

Jacob Seed.

Frank Woods

Russell Adler

Bruce Wayne.

Clark Kent.

Steve Rogers

Tony Stark

Thor

Clint Barton.

Barry Allen

John Consantine.

John Wick.

Sherlock Holmes.

Gladiolus Amicitia.

Connor.

Hank Anderson.

Uncharted:

Samuel Drake or Nathan Drake: Brooke’s full Bio here for Sam Drake’s relationship.

Brooke is a archaeologist that knew the Drake brothers growing up, depending on her romantic option her age will change.

Romance with Nathan Drake.

If she is paired with Nathan she meets him again when Sully hire’s her for a job along side Elan. The two begin to date after the even’s of finding El Dorado though it’s not long for them to break up. After the break up, Brooke starts a romance with Harry Flynn and when she see’s Nathan again she start’s to feel the emotion’s that she buried though it took for her grave injure and almost death for Nathan to confess his love for her.

Once they begun to date, her and Nathan would travel together and as the years passed Brooke decides to help him and Sully though once Sully get’s captured Brooke helps Nathan locate a tomb that details the location of Ubar in the Rub' al Khali desert. 

When Talbot learns of Sully's location, Nate escapes and chases Talbot. He is captured by Rameses, a pirate working for Marlowe, who interrogates him and claims to have captured Sully. Nate escapes and searches for Sully on the pirates' ship. He discovers that Rameses lied and inadvertently sinks the ship. Nate escapes, and Rameses drowns.Nate is washed ashore in Yemen. He learns from Brooke that Sully was captured by Marlowe and forced to lead them to Ubar.

Nate and Sully find Marlowe using a winch to recover the vessel from the waters. Nate destroys the winch and a support column, causing the city to collapse. Marlowe and Talbot corner Nate and Sully, but the unstable floor throws Marlowe into a sinkhole. Nate attempts to save her, but Marlowe sinks to her death, taking Drake's ring with her. Nate and Sully fight a hysteric Talbot, who is shot and falls into the sinkhole. Salim rescues them as the city is engulfed by the desert.Nate and Sully return to Yemen. Sully returns Nate's wedding ring, which he has secretly kept safe since Nate and Brooke's separation. Brooke joins them, and Nate offers her his wedding ring. The two embrace, and the three fly home on Sully's new seaplane.

Fifteen years have passed since Brooke and Nathan have been married, with Brooke becoming a historian at a Museum and Nathan retiring their lives and marriage gets pushed to the limits when Nathan goes off with his brother as Brooke finds out that she is pregnant. Brooke then run’s off with Sully to Bring her husband home.

Resident Evil:

-Carlos Oliveira -Leon S. Kennedy

Brooke in the Resident Evil Universe has two different roles for Carlos Oliveira and Leon S. Kennedy.

Carlos Oliveira:

Brooke is a scientist that formerly worked for Umbrella, helping her college she was tasked with keeping a viral sample safe. Brooke is trying to escape the city when she enter’s the subway though do to a heel breaking she starts to fall down the stairs where Carlo’s catches her. She is reluctant to trust him but after the death of the doctor she stay’s by Carlo’s side and it does not take long for her to fall for the man.

Leon S. Kennedy:

When Brooke is paired with Leon, she is a nurse at the Raccoon Cities Hospital and is the young sister to William Birkin.

When the hospital becomes over run she run’s off to the hospital hoping to find someone to help find her niece where she meet’s Leon. The two connect though she is unsure on how to act when Ada comes into the picture.After Leon get’s shot she tends to his wounds though tired of the man talking about Ada the fight where she then run’s off in frustration but not watching her surroundings she is soon captured by William where she then get’s infected.

When Leon awakens he come’s to find Brooke gone but upon finding her and begging Annette to help he carries her to find the cure and shut the place down.

After the event’s of Racoon City, it takes some time for the two to start a relationship. 

The two continue their relationship, where the two get married after the coordinated terrorist attack at the Harvardville Airport. Leon complaining to Hannigan that he and Brooke never got a chance to have a proper Honeymoon.

Brooke accompanies Leon to the Eastern Slav Republic and Belikova soon finds out that she was infected with the G-virus and because of her exposure to the virus, the woman found out that Brooke had gained lifelong regenerative abilities.

Once everything was handled, Brooke and Leon enjoyed their Honeymoon.Though their arraigned strained as she helped her husband with the Global Bioterrorist Attacks thanks to Helena and Ada Wong. Departing from her husband’s side she joined to help Chris Redfield where the to start up a friendship.

Finding a clone of herself and seeing how scared the woman was, she let her go instead of killing her like she was tasked to do. Once everyone was safe and things were taken care of, Leon and Brooke finally reunited where the two shared a kiss.

With a year passing, Brooke found out she was pregnant and during her third trimester she was kidnapped by the man Glenn Arias due to her looking so similar to his wife.

Once Leon returned home he came to find the room a bloodied mess, with the death of his wife Leon became depressed and emotionally scarred. He spent his vacation drinking his days away in a bar until Chris and Rebecca found him though he finally agreed to accompany them when he found out that Brooke was alive.

Once Brooke was kidnapped, she found out that the man Glenn Arias had married her clone, upon witnessing her death Brooke found out about Glenn’s plans to marry her and raise Leon’s child as his own.

With Leon and Chris braking into the building, Rebecca is tasked with finding Brooke and once Brooke free’s herself from her bond’s she runs into Rebecca.

As the two plan to makes their escape, Brooke goes into labor. 

After the defeat of Arias, Leon helps Brooke to the hospital where she give’s birth to a boy.

[steves-on-a-plane]

Missed Connections

Avengers Endgame Challenge  Words: 1912 Pairing: Steve Rogers X Reader  Requested by: Anon Prompt: Steve Rogers & #21: “Dread it. Run from it. Destiny arrives all the same.” 

The first time you bumped into Steve Rogers you did just that, bumped into him. You were carrying an overflowing basket of laundry to the basement of your apartment building, so that it could be washed. When out of nowhere someone else came charging up the stairs. The two of you collided causing the basket to fall and your clothing to tumble downward. You would have rolled down the stairs yourself if a strong pair of hands hadn’t braced your fall.

“I’m so sorry ma’am.” The owner of the hands apologized immediately. Bewildered, you looked upwards at your attacker. He was not what you expected at all. Standing probably six feet tall and decorated in muscles the man looked down at you with his ice blue eyes. His eyebrows were drawn together with concern. “Are you alright? I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“No.” You groaned at last. “Not unless you count my dignity.” You added, looking at your dirty shirts, socks and underwear that had been spilled down the flights below. The man followed your gaze and his cheeks flushed.

“I’m so sorry!” He apologized. “Here let me help you.” He jogged down and collected your now empty laundry basket. He started collecting safe items like pants or shirts and tossing them into the basket.

“No, no.” You began gathering any clothing items near you, working your way towards the stranger. “I’ll get them, just hold the basket.” He stopped reaching for a nearby pair of shorts at your order and instead held the basket out to you.

“What were you doing running up the steps anyway?” You demanded.

“Cardio.” He admitted, almost embarrassed.

“Ever heard of the gym?” You huffed.

“Yes ma’am. Problem is I’m new to the area. I just moved in last week. Third floor.” He explained pointing up the stairs.

“That’s no good.” You shook your head. “I live on the third floor.” By now you’d collected the last of the laundry and deposited it into the basket. “[Y/N] [Y/L/N], 3C.” You offered out a hand for him to shake.

“I’m right across the hall from you.” He smiled. “3A, Steve Rogers. I’d shake your hand but…” He indicated the full basket in his hands.  

“Here, let me take that.” You attempted to unload the basket from Steve’s arms but he waved you off.

“Please, it’s the least I can do.” He insisted. “Besides, what kind of a man would I be if I let a gal carry her laundry and the way to the basement when she can barely see over the top of it?”

“Well you should ask my boyfriend if you ever see him.” You shrugged. “He’s upstairs sleeping.”

“Sleeping? It’s two PM on a Wednesday.” Steve pointed out.

“Well that’s Nick for ya.” You sighed. “It’s 2011 and chivalry is dead.”

“Not for everyone, Ma’am.” Steve disagreed. You’d reached the basement now and he placed your laundry basket on top of a vacant washing machine.

“I guess not.” You said, recognizing the fact that he’d very kindly carried your laundry for you. “Thanks for the help. It was nice to meet you, Steve.”

“It was no trouble.” He insisted with a smile. “Well, I suppose I’ll leave you to your chores, but I’ll see you around, [Y/N].”  

“See you around.” You agreed.

At the time you really thought that you’d see Steve again. After all he only lived across the hall. As it turned out your new neighbor was rather elusive. He was an early riser. You knew this because he was almost always gone before you left for work at eight AM every day. You would catch a glimpse of him here or there on the weekends but being your only days off you needed that time to run errands.

As fate would have it you wouldn’t live in that apartment building much longer anyway. You started to realize, after that initial meeting with Steve, just how lazy your boyfriend Nick was. Not only was he lazy but he was a total slob. He worked a part time job, which normally wouldn’t bother you except for the fact that he didn’t contribute anything to your living together. He flat out refused to cook, clean or contribute financially in any way.

When you broached the subject of Nick’s laziness it unsurprisingly didn’t go well. So you packed your things and moved to a new apartment across town. While you packed the last of the boxes into your car, you couldn’t help but wonder about the kind man across the hall who’d once seen your dirty laundry scattered down the main staircase.

Two years passed and you all but forgot about your former Neighbor. You were doing well. You were single but you didn’t mind. You were taking time to get to know yourself again. Plus, your hectic work schedule didn’t exactly leave a lot of time for dating.

“Ah.” You sighed with satisfaction as you sipped your tea from a travel mug. You were visiting Washington D.C. for the week on a business trip, but you were taking advantage of some down time to see the sights. It was a crisp fall day. There was a slight breeze twisting through the air, but the temperature was mild. It was the kind of morning that poets wrote about, until a certain super solider ruined it.

You’d been strolling around near the reflection pond, taking in the nation’s capital, when you were suddenly alerted to the sound of shoes aggressively slamming against the pavement. You turned wildly trying to identify the source of the noise. You found it. Two men, charging close to you at a dangerously fast pace.

“On your left!” One of them called out to you, but it was too late. One of the runners collided with you, knocking you off your feet. You fell to the ground hard and the oxygen was forcibly exhaled from your lungs. You laid quietly on the ground, saturated in warm tea, trying to catch your breath.

“Hello, 911, I’d like to report a murder.” One of the runners joked.

“Knock it off, Sam!” The man who bumped into you insisted. “She could be seriously injured.” He crouched down beside you. “Miss are you alright?” A few seconds had passed, and you were almost able to breath normally, so you turned your head in his direction.

“You look familiar.” You said with certainty.

“You know, so you do. I’m sorry I can’t place the face.” He apologized. The man helped you sit up. “I’m Steve.” He supplied.

“Steve?” You repeated. The suddenly it clicked. “Steve Rogers?”

“Yeah.” He smirked. “That’d be me. Any chance you remember how we know each other?”

“Sure.” You nodded. Steve and Sam helped you to your feet. “We met a few years ago. You lived across the hall from me and my boyfriend at the time. [Y/N] [Y/L/N], apartment 3C.”

“Oh yeah!” He nodded, now also remembering. “It was right after I’d come out of the ice.”

“The ice?” You remarked with concern.

“Wait, you don’t know who he is?” Sam seemed surprise. “Shoot I thought everyone did after what happened in New York.”

“It never really came up.” Steve explained, rubbing the back of his neck uncomfortably.

“He’s just being modest!” Sam insisted. “This man right here is Captain America! You might have heard of a little thing called the battle of New York.”

“Captain America, like The Avengers, Captain America?” You asked. Steve didn’t say anything, but you got your answer as a sleek dark car pulled up to the curb a few feet away. An intimidating redhead stepped out of the vehicle, calling out to your group as she did so.

“Hey, can any of you point in me the direction of the Smithsonian? I’m here to pick up a fossil.” She smirked.

“Ha ha, very funny.” Steve rolled his eyes. “[Y/N] it was nice to see you again. Sam, I’ll catch you later.” Steve said his goodbyes before getting into the car with the red head.

“Tell me you have his number.” Sam said, now that the two of you were alone.

“Uh, no.” You confessed. “We only met the one time, so…”

“So nothing! Where’s your cellphone?” He demanded. You nervously fished your phone out of your pocket as Sam insisted that you add Steve Rogers to your contacts. You were glad to see that Steve had upgraded his cardio routine from running up and down his apartment building stairs, to at least running outside. And as much as you wanted to know what he was doing in Washington D.C., you decided against calling him. It didn’t seem right since Sam was technically the one who’d given you his phone number.

The third time you bumped into Steve was a summer afternoon. You’d decided to dig your old roller skates out and give them a whirl in Central Park. You hadn’t worn them since college, so you were slightly surprised that they still fit. Of course, you couldn’t have picked a worse day to dredge them out. It was the first day of good weather in weeks and it felt like all of New York was out in the park that day. For the most part you’d been able to maneuver around the tourist and locals alike, but you couldn’t believe your eyes when you saw two familiar face in the crowd.

“Steve Rogers?” You excitedly skated over to a group of three guys for confirmation, but as you neared Steve, Sam and their friend you began to lose your balance. Luckily someone caught you by the elbows in time to stop you from falling. You looked up at the ever-smiling face of Captain America.

“We’ve got to stop meeting like this.” He insisted with a smile.

“It is you!” You smiled back. “Sam nice to see you again.” You nodded at the man you’d met on your chance encounter in D.C.

“[Y/N]!” Sam surprised you by remembering your name. “Have you met metal man yet?” He patted his friend on the back. Luckily Steve was kind enough to give you a proper introduction.

“[Y/N], this is Bucky.” He said. “Buck this is, [Y/N]. The gal I keep telling you about.”

“So, you’re Rogers’ mystery woman. I was convinced that you didn’t exist.” Bucky chuckled. “I’m honored to finally meet you. Now, please, do Wilson and I a favor and take this guy on a date will ya?”

This time Bucky was patting Steve on the back. At the mention of a date you and Steve were suddenly acutely aware that he was still holding you by the elbows. You separated immediately, both of your faces flushing red.

“Destiny does seem to have a way of pulling us back together.” You said.

“Dread it, run from it. Destiny arrived all the same.” Steve agreed. “We were about to have lunch, would you like to join us?”

“Well, I mean I wouldn’t want to intrude…”

“You know, Cap. I just remembered Bucky and I have that thing we have to get going to.” Sam chimed in.

“What…Oh right. The thing.” Bucky nodded. “Yeah, we’ll catch you later, Rogers. Nice to meet you, [Y/N].”

“Your friends are very subtle.” You laughed as Sam and Bucky walked away.

“Yeah, it’s not one of their finer skill sets.” He supposed. “But the lunch invitation still stands. I think it’s about time we get to know each other better.”

*Please feel free to play along and send me some Endgame Challenge Requests!*

[looselucy]

Losing Focus

October 24th Niall was rubbing his hands together when Paula came and placed the Full English Breakfast in front of him, about to consume an amount of food no person should be physically capable of. “You can’t possibly eat all of that.” I sniggered. “Watch me.” He said excitedly, picking up his knife and fork.

We’d decided to kick off the day by getting breakfast at our favourite café, PJ’s, before it was time to open up shop and take on another Wednesday. It was a little grotty in there, but that was what gave it it’s charm. It hadn’t been done up in years, the tables and chairs all one huge contraption which had then been nailed to the floor, which always made me question if they’d been designed to avoid fights or theft, but it didn’t matter. It was a firm favourite with the older generation of Rosebury, which luckily for Paula was the majority of Rosebury, so that kept business booming. As booming as it could be. I was preparing myself for another busy day, and beginning it with a proper meal felt like a good start. I was due to have my third one on one session with Harry, and I knew just how exhausted I’d be by the end of the day. I needed to prepare myself for that in any way I could. “You had any more dates recently?” I asked, taking the first bite of my bacon butty. “I wish. No such luck.” He huffed. “There aren’t enough options available to me.” “I suppose nothing is better than Neil.” “Do not talk to me about Neil.” Niall was one of the few members of our group who was good for early morning plans. With our village being so small, the businesses there could open and close whenever they chose, meaning that most mornings could be spent rather lazily. I liked to have Niall around so that I had a way to fill quiet mornings when the rest of our friends were still in bed. “You heard from Sam?” He enquired. “Nope. Nothing.” “Weird, right? For him to just up and leave like that.” “Very.” As ever, it hadn’t taken long for gossip to travel around Rosebury, meaning it had only been a few days after I’d spoken with Tom before everyone was made aware that Sam had quit his job and skipped town. Everyone had predicted I’d know something about it, meaning I’d been asked by what felt like everyone, even little old ladies popping into the shop just to see if I had any information as to his whereabouts, but I’d had to let everyone down. “Do you think he’ll come back?” He asked between mouthfuls. “I’m not sure. But I’m definitely not missing him.” Sam not being around had taken such a weight off me, which in addition with Harry’s lessons had left me feeling much calmer than I’d been expecting. The last few weeks had been good to me, life seeming to return to normal, things seeming to fall into place. “No, I can’t say I am either.” Niall admitted. “Do you think it’s because you broke up? Why he left?” “Um… I think it plays its part, yeah. But whatever, let’s not talk about Sam. Let’s talk about someone else.” “Let’s talk about Harry!” He proposed. “Ooh, okay! What about Harry?” “He’s fit, isn’t he?” “He is.” I chuckled. “I really like him.” “Me too. I think he’s blended in really nicely.” “Right? I mean… I thought we’d be harder to infiltrate, to be honest. I thought he’d have a harder time worming his way in.” “I think it proves just how well he fits in.” Niall shrugged. “It’s like he’s been here forever.” “I guess so.” “Hey, how come Chloe didn’t come to the match on Monday?” He puzzled. Chloe had been struggling with Harry’s company for the past few weeks and I couldn’t necessarily blame her. Ever since her proposal to Harry about staying at hers for the night, and his very polite refusal, she had been excessively awkward. It would pass, in time, that much I knew, but she was going through a difficult stage with him. She’d avoided going to watch the match on Monday, leaving me sat on my own in the freezing cold with no hot chocolate to keep my fingers warm. I’d missed her. “She’s too embarrassed about the whole… Harry situation. She’ll get over it.” I dismissed. “Course she will. After she’d tried it on with me, it took her a good couple of weeks to chill out again.” “Was she as forward with you?” “Oh yeah, it’s intimidating!” His eyes went wide. “She’s very forward.” As much as Chloe could definitely take things too far, I really wished I had a bit of her confidence, a bit of her forthrightness. The truth was, it worked most of the time; whenever we’d been on nights out somewhere other than Rosebury, where she wasn’t trying her moves on friends, she had always been successful. She was gorgeous and funny and forward and I would have loved just a tiny slither of that self-confidence. “I hope she gets over it soon.” I sulked after swallowing another mouthful. “I need her to cuddle up with on the matches. It’s cold.” “It’s freezing. I’m ready for summer. I wanna go swimming in the river again. I wanna go out to the lake again! We need warmth. My dick would freeze off if I went swimming in there at this time of year.” I almost choked on my sandwich, not expecting penis talk at such an early hour, but it was hard to be too surprised when it was Niall Horan I was sat across from. Shaking my head, I tried to digest my food appropriately, rolling my eyes at the smug little look on his face.

“Come on, Alfie. Just a few more hits!” Harry yelled upliftingly. “I can’t.” I was woozy, the bag ahead of me swinging softly from side to side. “I can’t, Harry, I’m tired.” “Two more minutes of blitzing it, then we’ll stop.” “I can’t. I’m so tired.” I began cuddling the bag, convinced it was the only thing keeping me on my feet. “I think I need a nap. I think I should nap. Shall we take a nap?” “You’re so fucking close, Alf, c’mon!” I felt like I’d already been in that gym for hours. My head was spinning and my limbs were failing me and I really wanted to lay down on the floor and sleep. He’d worked me to the bone, stood beside simply egging me on, shouting encouraging words and clapping and pushing me to my absolute limit, which at that point, I was pretty sure I’d reached. “I need to nap. Everything hurts. I think if I nap it would be really good for me.” I closed my eyes. “I’ll carry on when I wake up.” “You’re not napping.” “We could get the yoga-mats out and just… sleep. Remember sleep? It’s so good.” “You’ll get plenty of it tonight. But right now, you’ve got a job to do.” “Please?” I opened one eye, poking out my bottom lip. “Punch the bag.” He demanded one last time, and I didn’t need to be told again. I steadied myself, blinking my brain back to life before getting back into the desired position, ready to give it my all for just a few more minutes before I completely caved. He remained at my side, encouraging me throughout, driving pure determination into my bones. Things had been similar the week before; it was clear that Harry enjoyed pushing me way past what I believed to be my limit, pushing me to peaks I’d thought were too high. He never paid attention to my whining, or my requests for naps, he’d just force me further and get the most out of me that he could. As difficult as it could be, I’d left that room for the past few weeks feeling satisfied and driven. “That’s it, Alf! You’re killing it! Keep it up!” I wasn’t sure how I was going to manage the group training after such a vigorous workout, and I wasn’t sure how I’d ever be able to get away with lying to the girls this week by saying we’d worked out just a little bit before they all arrived, but I had to try. I could feel and see that all my skin was bright red, my body becoming so flimsy I questioned how much longer my feet could take my weight. I hit at the bag a few more times, involuntarily grunting as I did, when he finally saved me. “Okay, okay! That’s it. Well done, Alf! Have some rest.” I stopped, spinning dizzily round on my heel and staggering towards the centre of the room, whining pathetically until I’d found what I believed to be the perfect spot, where I collapsed backwards, sprawling out across the floor like a starfish, eyes closed, heart beating wildly. It was hard to keep track of the time, but I knew it wouldn’t be much longer until everyone started turning up for the group lesson, but I hoped the remainder of our time just the two of us would be spent resting. I placed my hand on my chest, slowly calming down, opening one eye for a moment to watch Harry. “You smashed it!” He yelled cheerfully, moving to stand at my feet. “This is it.” I spoke up to the ceiling, closing my eye again. “This is how I die.” I heard him sniggering and the sound of his footsteps before the music came to a stop, and before I’d had the chance to open my eyes, I felt a towel land directly on my face with quite some force. “Sorry.” He snickered. I managed to sit up, rubbing the towel over my face and around my neck, catching my breath, already dreading how much my body would ache the following morning. I took the bobble out of my hair, letting my bleach blonde locks fall dramatically over my shoulders, cracking my neck. “Thank you.” I sighed eventually. “How do you feel?” He sat himself down ahead of me, crossing his legs and pushing a bottle of water towards me. “Exhausted, but good. I feel really good. But also, I feel terrible.” I took a quick sip. “I really dunno how I’m gunna do this class.” “Y’know, it’s probably best not to just stop completely now-” “Don’t make do anything else yet, dear god please.” I blubbered. “Just stretches.” He grinned. “You can stay sat down and everything, but just stretching a bit now will really help.” I knew he was probably right, that stretching until the rest of the women arrived would likely be much more beneficial that just stopping completely then trying to pick up again, but even the thought of such minor movement was making me want to sob again. “Okay. Alright, gimme a minute.” Harry began to position himself, removing his trainers before stretching his legs out, ready to carry on teaching and clearly not too keen on giving me the minute I’d requested. “You ready?” He asked, chirpy as all hell. “Fine.” I huffed, mirroring his frame, first taking off my shoes before placing my legs outwards so they were shut together directly in front of me, the bottom of our feet almost touching. “Okay, so all I want you to do, is lean forward and touch your toes. Then you can grab your feet, and try to make your body as flat as you can so your face is almost resting on your legs. That’s it!” He’d said that’s it as though this was going to be the easiest thing imaginable, but he was clearly failing to take into consideration just how much I was aching and just how inflexible I was. I followed his lead, touching my toes but already feeling like that was my limit. I think he could tell from the rather alarmed look on my face. “What?” He questioned through a smile. “I… I can’t.” “You can.” “No, I really don’t think I can.” I chortled. “This is me at my absolute limit.” “Really?” “I’m being totally serious. I’m hurting.” “Fine.” He laughed lightly. “We’ll start a little easier. Maybe… Okay, put your legs apart instead.” I did as I was told, stretching my legs relatively wide, immediately trying to reach down and touch my toes without his instruction, only able to grasp for a few seconds before it was like my body snapped back into place, groaning dramatically. I flopped backwards again, going back to laying on the floor and sobbing. “I can’t, I’m weak! What’ve you done to me?” “Okay, c’mere. Let me help.” He got to his feet. “Sit up!” I flopped back forwards, still vocally complaining via disgruntled noises as he walked so he was behind me, and then before I could even fathom what was happening, he was back on the floor just behind me, slotting himself perfectly around me, widening his legs so they could be placed on the outside of my own, the front of his body pushed up against my back, causing me to tense rather substantially, quit my bleating. Initially, he seemed unfazed by the position, talking casually. “I’m gunna lean into it with you, okay. Kinda… hold you in place.” He was so close, his voice lingering around my right ear, sending more shockwaves through my body. I wanted to remain casual, in the zone, but all I could focus on fully was his voice, the way it felt having him almost wrapped around me that way, his body pushed against mine. Trying to think of anything other than the feel of his toned stomach,  I began to reach down towards my right foot, slowly trailing downwards, feeling Harry push with me, his body cushioning and caving over mine, placing his hand on top of my own to keep me in place once I’d reached down to my foot. There were so many muscles in my body that were aching, begging me to go back to laying on the floor, but Harry literally had me cornered between his own build, his breath burning the side of my neck. “Hold it, and then we’ll move back up, and do exactly the same on the other side. Yeah?” “Mm.” His voice was wickedly low, charming, hypnotic. I couldn’t concentrate, my head was swimming, to the point where I couldn’t even think about my aches, it was just him. He moved from me just slightly, but only so he could gently place his hands on my waist and guide me back upwards to him, his fingertips tender against my bare skin. I moved gradually, closing my eyes and miming curse words to myself, hoping the experience would end soon because I felt like I was enjoying it for reasons I wasn’t meant to be. I moved down to my left leg, feeling him follow once again, repeating our actions, just as heated and slow as before, one of his hands on mine and one still on my waist. “Now I want you to… spread your legs a little more,” I literally heard him swallow. “Then after we’ve moved back, I want you to lean forward, right between your legs, and reach out as far as you can. Okay?” “Yeah. O-okay.” I widened my legs a bit more, amazed that Harry could match the width with his own. Before I could move back upright, his hand moved from my waist, reaching for my unruly hair and gently gathering it all in his hand, organising it for me so it fell down my back rather than hung in front of my face. I was biting my lip by the time I was moving back up to him. Before I’d even noted the change in my own breathing, I noted the change in his, once again able to feel his breath on my neck as soon as I was back against him, so intense I wanted the distance as quickly as I could, propelling myself forward with speed, my whole body shuddering. I was so distracted by the way he was making me feel that I was ignoring the pains that had been holding me back before, bending my body forward so much that my chest and forehead just about met the floor, feeling like a relief in some way, like it was hiding how flustered I’d become. “Fuck.” I heard Harry groan behind me, my eyes bolting open at the word that had poured piercingly from his lips. All I’d thought about was the distance between our bodies, not the new position I was in, the angle from which he was now viewing my body. His hands tightened on my waist somewhat, seething in a sting of breath, the noise penetrating my ears so much I bolted back upright, needing to change the mood of the room before I lost my fucking mind. My back crashed back against his body, the room silent other than our harsh breathing. I looked down to the ground, attempting to control myself, to not make myself so obvious but we were beyond that. He cursed again, suddenly resting his forehead on my shoulder which sent another shock through my body, quite blatantly attempting to cool down. It was all too much. Without warning, my desire formed a life of its own, not thinking as I slightly shuffled my backside further towards his groin, feeling the faint imprint of his erection against me, on the curve of my rear and leading up to the bottom of my back. Harry seethed again, harsher this time. There was a frantic apology on the tip of my tongue, just about to drag my body away from his before he lifted his head from where he’d rested it, turning to trace the very tip of his nose soothingly over my neck, his breath glazing over the area, my skin prickling, lolling my head back to give him more access, landing firm on his shoulder. I felt his hand move, his left locking tight to my waist as his right snaked around to the centre of my stomach, brushing the tips of his fingers over my skin before they began playing with the hem of my leggings, cautious at first, as though waiting for me to stop him, ask what he was doing. I had nothing to say. He took that as his sign, lowering his hand so it became hidden in the material, sliding his fingers into my knickers and finding my clit as soon as he could. “Holy fuck.” I gasped, biting my lip and easing into it. It was hard to think about how suddenly it was all happening, how strange the scenario was, the fact that Harry was touching me that way. All I could concentrate on was how good I felt, how he was making me feel in that very moment, his fingers jolting silkily over my sensitive nub. He was unhurried at first, watching down over my shoulder to see the shocks of his hands through my pants, focusing all his attention on my pleasure, finding out what was working and feeling good for me by tracking my moans, working with my body to gain the most out of what he was doing. I felt amazing, so satisfied but calm, just oozing into the whole feeling, possibly with a smile on my face but I was too lost in my state to know for sure. He dipped his hand lower, easing two fingers into me, lifting his lips up to my ear. “I wanna feel you cum in the palm of my hand.” He groaned. Then he started kissing at my neck, grinding his hips to some extent so I could feel him against my back, curving his fingers and placing his thumb against my clit. My moans and whimpers became more consistent, louder, bending my knees up and pushing further back into him, his tongue stroking over my skin sweetly. It was like he’d taken complete control of my body, like every function it was currently undergoing was entirely down to him; the beat of my heart, my hairs standing on end, my disordered breathing, my trembles and quakes and my pleasured cries. Everything was under his control and it made me feel so fucking alive. He lifted his teeth to my ears, biting pleasantly at my lobe, his free arm snaking to grasp around my stomach, yanking my just that bit closer to him, a gritted grunt forming in his throat. I could feel myself getting closer and closer, welcoming back a sensation I hadn’t felt for a long time. Even with Sam, it had been so long since he’d cared about my pleasure, about me getting the most out of sexual experiences. I couldn’t even recall the last time I’d been made to feel that way, where the only focus was me and my body, my satisfaction. He went back to kissing my neck, the way he grunted only making my own moans increase, my hand reaching to clasp at his leg when we heard noises, shuffling and scuttling and showing there were women on the other side of the door, waiting for the group session. “For fuck sake.” Harry grumbled, stopping for a second or so before his instinct insisted that he continued, rubbing again. “I wanna finish you off, but you’re too loud.” “Just do it, I’ll be quiet.” I gasped. I tried to hold it in. I tried so hard to dull my tones so he could finish his wonderous work, but I couldn’t! No matter how hard I fought it, my throat continued to produce noises that I couldn’t stun, achingly aware of the gathering of women outside his door but more aware of how good I felt. It wasn’t something that could be silenced. “Alfie-” He growled, taking his arm off my stomach so he could bring his hand up to clasp over my mouth, covering my lips to keep me quiet but if anything, it just made my moans increase, being the exact thing that could lead me to my orgasm. I cried out into the palm of his hand, every single inch of my body quaking, Harry shh-ing me and slowly steadying the work of his hand, checking over his shoulder to watch the door, make sure no one had allowed themselves into the room too early and seen what we were up to. When he knew we were safe, he came back to me, grinning against my neck as he tried to kiss over the area. I didn’t even need to see his face to gather how smug he felt. My body went from rigid to sluggish rather quickly, collapsing back against him, trying to catch my breath, my body literally sliding downwards as he freed both his hands, my head landing against his chest. I was totally limp. “I…” He was still breathless. “I think we lost track of time.” “Mm.” Was all I could reply, completely beat. “Shit. Are you alright?” “I think I’m dying.” “I need to let everyone in.” “No! No, no. Nope. No. Just… Gimme a minute. Let me gather myself.” He sniggered before planting a firm kiss against my temple. “Okay.” He whispered. “Take your time.” So I did. I didn’t rush myself or try to get back to normal just for the sake of those outside, I let it all play out naturally, soothing at my own speed, Harry not moving, stroking the backs of his fingers up and down my arm to aid my mending procedure. “What the hell just happened?” I panted, producing a large smile. “I have no idea.” He laughed a little, gazing down to me. I giggled to myself for a while, closing my eyes, relaxing, beginning to feel normal again. Well, as normal as I possibly could, given the scenario. He gave me my time, clearly unfazed by the now very loud noises coming from outside proving it was likely every woman who took his class was waiting to get in. He didn’t care, he simply granted me every second I needed to regain my senses and stature. “How’re you feeling?” He asked eventually. “Okay.” I opened my eyes. “I’m good. I think I’m ready.” “Yeah?” “Yeah. Let them in.” I sat forward, rolling my shoulders and inhaling deeply, Harry standing himself up and walking to my front so he could offer me a hand and lift me triumphantly back to my feet. Once I was upright, we stopped again for a moment, our bodies close, Harry looking down to me like he had something to say, maybe trying to find the right words, though of course neither of us knew what those words could possibly be. With a sigh, he gave up searching for them, simply leaning in very briefly to plant a tender kiss just beside my lips, at the very corner, before he wandered over to the door, opening wide with a cheery smile, allowing the eager ladies to leak into the room. I was stood still staring off into nothing when Libby and Chloe marched over to me, pulling me from my trance. “What was that about?” Libby questioned. “We’ve been waiting ages!” “Um…” I spun so I was facing the front of the room, trying to create yet another lie to accompany the many others I’d been crafting of recent. “Hi!” It seemed I was still a little more dazed than I’d bargained for, not having heard her question properly. She lowered her brows, and asked again. “What took so long?” “We were just talking about… what happened that night. Y’know, on my birthday. It got a little intense.” “Are you okay?” Chloe asked, clearly concerned. “Yeah, m’fine.” I nodded. “He… He helps me feel loads better. I’m good.” “Good, I’m glad.” She smiled back to me. I knew if I told either of them, especially Chloe, what had actually just happened in that room, they’d have absolute meltdowns. Fuck, I wasn’t even sure they’d believe it, because I could barely believe it. I looked up to Harry, and to be honest he seemed just as perplexed, trying to figure himself out, calculate his next move. “Um… m’gunna quickly nip to the toilet before we start.” I mumbled to the girls, darting towards the door, getting Harry’s attention instantly. “Hey, you alright? Are you leaving?” He leapt to me, panicking, speaking quietly. “No. I just need to… sort myself out.” I tried not to cringe. “Right. Yeah… Right, of course, yeah.” He distanced again. I left the room, uncomfortably making my way a little further down the corridor to the toilets, wondering if Harry was considering a similar trip, to both physically and mentally wash his hands of the experience before the class got underway. Concentrating solely on his class had never been as difficult as it was that day.

[thirtysomethingloser92]

The Best Friend

I hope you all enjoy!

“Oh my God, I love Tony Stark’s parties” You exclaimed with your mouth full of food, in your left hand a glass of champagne. You turned around and leaned against the cloth covered table. You looked over at your best friend Captain Steve Rogers; his dark blue shirt clinging to his muscles made your heart stop momentarily. You should be used to this by now, you were around the blonde haired man almost 24/7 living in the Avengers compound; you had seen the other man shirtless before, but there was something about this shirt...  The blonde haired man let out a low chuckle and brought his drink to his lips. “I mean, free food, free alcohol; what’s not to love?” You had fallen in love with your Captain all those years ago when you met him on board the Hellicarrier; you listened to him speak to Doctor Bruce Banner with a gentleness you hadn’t really heard before he turned to you and introduced himself. You already knew who he was, you would be stupid not too. You had read about him long before they had found him in the ice. Then you got to meet him and work with him side by side as the Chituri invaded and from there you became close. You helped him get up to date with the 21st Century, it was hard, but you enjoyed it. He was somewhat awkward, and it made you laugh because you never in a hundred years would think that Steve Rogers was that type of person. But he was. Sometimes when he would be talking he would trip and stumble over his words which would make you laugh. You weren’t beneath making fun of the American hero, a lot of the time it would end with him laughing and rolling his eyes at you. Sometimes he was your comfort in a dark place. When you were down he would be by your side giving you a book to read from your bookshelf, sometimes he would hand you your music player; he knew the things that made you happy and he never pushed you to talk about your problems, he just sat quietly next to you drawing until you started to talk. And still, then he wouldn’t look up from what he was doing, he just listened and gave advice when he could. You loved him because he was so uniquely him. He made you feel a way you thought you wouldn't ever feel. You felt like you were on fire whenever you were around him, like there was electricity running through your veins. He was your light and you adored him.

When HYDRA infiltrated SHIELD you stayed by his side the entire time, you fought with him, Natasha and Sam Wilson because that was where you belonged.

You watched as the elevator began to go down, Steve stood next to you with his hands clasped in front of him. It was deathly silent between you because you both knew what was happening as soon as the black-clad agents slowly began filing into the small area.  Your eyes met his and he nodded to the door, “Isn’t this your floor?” He asked, keeping his voice steady. He wanted you to leave so you wouldn’t get hurt, but instead, you shrugged and straightened out your grey tank top.  “I thought I might head to the courtyard and grab something to eat from one of that guy who does the kebabs. Cheryl on third said they’re to die for” You replied, shooting him a look which said that you weren’t leaving him here to deal with this alone. He gave you a small nod in understanding before straightening his back and looking back at the agents in front of him; “Before we get started, does anyone want to get out?”

Sometimes you wonder if he feels the same way about you. After a long day, he would rub your legs as you lay on the couch, or he would make you cups of tea and put on your favorite shows. Sometimes he would talk about his days with his best friend in 1940s Brooklyn. You loved when it was just the two of you and he talked about those days, his eyes would light up and a smile would grace his face. You could tell how much he missed it, how much he missed the person James Buchannan Barnes used to be, he was living in the compound with you all now after a long and lengthy battle to bring him back; most days Bucky Barnes would be in his room; sometimes you would speak to him, try and be friendly to a man who had been through so many horrors, but he was quiet, he answered you with short answers; he was still unsure of you but you wanted to know him more, know who he was before all this. You didn’t know what he was doing in his room but most of the time it was silent, Steve reassured you that he was still in the compound because he would regularly go in and check on him, but instead of lingering on it he would give you a small smile and continue talking about something else. You hated training. With a passion. Some days he would wake you up before the sun even rose to take you for a light jog around the compound. You were horrendously unfit so this bothered you a lot. He would try though, he would always get you motivated and keep you motivated throughout the entire run even when your legs felt like they were going to give out and your lungs were burning. Combat was another thing, you somewhat enjoyed it. It made you feel more badass then what your abilities did, but it was still somewhat unpleasant. Especially when you have the force of a super soldier punching you in the chest, he wouldn’t even put in his entire effort and yet it would feel like every bone in your chest was broken.

You watched with a smile as your teammates celebrated and laughed. You could smell Steves cologne from where he stood next to you; out of the corner of your eyes, you could see him lick his lips. The butterflies in your stomach were running rampant, you turned to him and opened your mouth to say something when he turned to you to do the same thing. You both let out a small laugh before you picked up another sandwich off the table and nodded towards him, motioning for him to go first. You knew that this was it, that you were going to tell him how you feel. Between the way he looks tonight and the alcohol running through your veins you had the courage to do it. And you were almost certain he feels the same way. He let out a small chuckle and looked away for a moment before turning back to you with a smile on his face; he was shifting from one foot to another looking somewhat nervous. “I have a question for you” He began. You nodded and motioned for him to continue as you took another bite of the small item in your hand. Your heart was beating even faster in your chest if that was even possible. You were horribly nervous at this moment, you wanted him to hurry up so you could tell him. “I uh, I need your help,” He rubbed the back of his head nervously, “I asked Sharon Carter out to dinner on Thursday night and I kinda need some recommendations,” You felt your heart sink to your stomach, your chest became tight and a lump rose in your throat. You looked down for a moment, your head was spinning. Sharon Carter. The blonde haired woman who had been transferred to the CIA after the HYDRA/SHIELD situation. She was a good woman, she was perfect for him in every way possible. She was a good agent, smart; she was good at combat and you had always found it very difficult to dislike her. She was an extremely nice person. “Sharon Carter?” You heard yourself choke out, “You’re taking her to dinner?” Steve smiled a proper smile at you, “Yeah. I just figured there wouldn’t really be any harm in it. I really like her,” You swallowed down any tears that were threatening to fall. You were his best friend first, you had to remind yourself. He didn’t know of your feelings for him, he didn’t know that you pined for him for the longest time. Slowly, you felt yourself nod; “Y-yeah. We can go out tomorrow and have a look around if you want?” Steve wrapped his arms around you, “You’re amazing” He whispered in your ear. You gripped him a little bit tighter, fearing that if you let go you might never get this chance again.

[jellybeanforest-a-go-go]

So, the spouse has been gone for two days on a business trip. In that time, I wrote 7500 words for my upcoming fic “Pillow Talk,” so that’s quickly becoming a thing. I have no idea how long this is going to be, but I’m having way too much fun describing an even shittier version of the apartment I moved into after the breakdown of my first long-term relationship. 

Anyways, here’s the Summary: Billionaire playboy Tony Stark pisses off his latest one-night-stand, who plans to turn him into a Beast until he learns humility and compassion for his fellow man. He can already visualize Pepper’s disapproving glare as she’s forced to add yet another person to the security watch list. It figures he would eventually stick his dick in bonafide crazy.

“Is that really the best you got?” he scoffs. “That would be utterly unoriginal. Uninspired even.” He has already seen that movie and the remake.

…Maybe Tony should learn when to keep his mouth shut.

Or: A spurned lover turns Tony into a mattress.

Based on a Cap-Ironman Kinkmeme Prompt

Here’s an expanded snippet:

The man is handsome, tall and well-built, with a chiseled jaw line and dirty blond hair uncombed and stuck up at different angles. If Tony had been human, he might have invited the man back to his place on the thinnest of pretexts for a roll in the sheets. He looks like he could lift Tony with little trouble, and that sort of thing is always a good time. However, circumstances being what they are, Tony is currently comprised of quilted fabric, wire, and what he suspected might be heavy-duty foam, and he is completely mute. Ergo, he has no chance of charming the stud currently manhandling him.

These facts didn’t stop his internal monologue.

Your place or mine? He imagines himself asking, but the answer is self-evident. Mr. Large Hands is already carting him off to his humble abode on what has to be the fifth floor of a building with no elevator (Was that even legal?) for what was likely to be some G-rated bedtime fun, considering Tony’s size. Based on his recent string of bad luck, the man had probably acquired him as a replacement for the bed Little Timmy, his budding serial killer son, had slashed in a fit of rage.

He can see it now. Cause of Death: Murdered by a sociopathic kindergartener.

And so ends the life of one Tony Stark. Genius. Philanthropist. Scoundrel. Monster. War Profiteer.

All in all, a crummy excuse for a man and an even crummier mattress. Seriously, he wasn’t even memory foam. Gifting him in his current state to a kid must constitute child abuse.

Having rounded the fifth floor stair case, Father-of-the-Year lifts him up and walks down the short darkened hallway, stopping in front of his unit. He puts him down and fiddles with the door – God, he didn’t even bother locking it. What if Little Timmy got out and murdered a kitten? – before it swings open, revealing a… huh, this must be the parlor room. Tony didn’t know apartments in Brownsville had parlor rooms to receive guests.

Maybe-Daddy proceeds to angle Tony through the door, then straightens him out as he clears the back wall of the hallway. Tony observes his new home. In the kitchen to his right, unpacking a paltry number of items into a cupboard is another man with a scruff of facial hair and long dark hair drawn up in a messy man bun. Probably The Boyfriend™. Which didn’t explain what Tony was doing here. Not that he would mind having two gorgeous men on top of him, but Tony is clearly meant for single occupancy.

Mr. Not-a-Father pushes Tony across the threshold, and Tony realizes with startling clarity, that this is not a parlor room. The room containing the currently-scowling boyfriend is not a kitchen. If Tony is feeling generous, he would call it a kitchenette. There is a small fridge, dual hotplate, and a microwave but no oven nor is there a dishwasher. Not that Mr. Not-a-Father-But-Definitely-a-Daddy, Esq., and his disgruntled boyfriend need one as Tony can now clearly see the cupboard contains only two dishes, a single bowl, a tall thermos, and four mismatched mugs (one of which bears the wildly-inaccurate title “#1 Grandpa” in Darlin BTN font). Just beyond the kitchen is a lumpy couch covered clumsily in what looks to be a blue fitted sheet next to a set of free weights. There’s a bathroom door open to his left, through which he can see a narrow sink, chipped mirror and the rim of the toilet bowl on one side with a small corner shower across. Hell, if Steve aimed just right, he may be able to piss into the toilet from the shower.

Living the dream, Tony thinks, rather unkindly.

Of course, this hellscape is accompanied by a fitting soundtrack appropriate for its distinctive ambiance: the unmistakable low, ever-present buzz of florescent lighting joined in terrible harmony by the gurgling toilet that only stops when Steve leaves him propped up in the doorway to go jiggle the flusher. This short respite allows Tony a nice close-up of the plaster walls, pitted and cracked over semi-exposed brick. Across the way, almost lined up with the door is a single window with a third of the cheap metal blinds missing and another third bent at odd angles to prevent proper operation. It’s bad feng shui all around, but that’s the least of Tony’s concerns. The largest, most pressing of which is that what he’s seeing is literally an entire apartment for two full-grown adult humans.

“Ugh, seriously Stevie?” The Boyfriend™ seems disgusted with Tony’s presence, which is rich coming from someone who lives like this.

#1 Grandpa – Stevie, apparently – pauses halfway in their trek to the far left corner, looking sheepish.

“So it’s a little…” he looks up and rolls one hand, clearly searching for a charitable word to describe his curbside acquisition, “Used, but the padding is intact and no springs are poking out of it.” He shrugs, lifting Tony up the rest of the (short) distance to drop him into position.

The Boyfriend™ crosses the room in four strides to sit on the couch along the opposite wall. “Several generations of rats have likely lived and died inside that thing.”

Hey now, the cat urine scared off Ratatouille and friends, Tony thinks, a little hysterically.

Stevie rolls his eyes. “I already checked it for holes.”

“It’s filthy,” The Boyfriend™ counters.

“It’s a pillow-top.”

“But it’s a twin! I know things have been tough since–”

“Bucky.”

Ah, a name…

“Since, well, you know,” Bucky, who is definitely not The Boyfriend™, finishes lamely. “But one day, you’re going to want to put yourself out there again, and a twin mattress screams, ‘I don’t think this dating thing is really going to work out for me.’”

“…It’s perfect.”

“Steve…” Bucky runs his fingers over his hair, pulling loose some strands from his man-bun. “Look, I’ll buy you a new bed. A real mattress. One that hasn’t seen at least half a dozen litters of stray cats and two near-fatal overdoses. Consider it a ‘welcome home’ gift.”

Stevie – or Steve, probably Steve – gathers a spray bottle and powdered enzymatic cleaner before walking towards the sink. “Neither of us has the money.” He adds some powder into the container then fills it up from the tap.

“I’ll find the money. I’ll pick up extra shifts at the bar. I’ll sweep hair at Bill’s barbershop. But that thing you dragged in here? It’s unsalvageable. It’s making me depressed, and I’m not even the one who has to sleep on it.”

“It’s fine. I’m fine. Save your money.” Steve returns to Tony’s side, armed with the spray bottle. He doesn’t even look in his friend’s direction, ignoring his clear disapproval.

“You could always move in with me and Nat, you know?” Bucky offers softly. “I already cleared it with her. Seriously. We have a couch, a real one that isn’t a sheet over a stack of discarded gym mats.” He pats Steve’s ‘couch’ and eyes the far corner where the fitted sheet isn’t quite stretched over enough to cover. Tony can now see the elastic hugs the edge of a mat two up from the floor, the tip sagging forlornly over the flaked plastic coating of the bottom-most ones. “You don’t have to do this alone.”

You don’t have to live like this, Tony hears him plead.

Steve remains stoic, unmoved. “Thanks for the noodles and the company, Buck, but I think I should finish unpacking.”

Bucky isn’t even subtle as he surveys the tiny studio. Steve obviously owns very little, and what little there is has already been unboxed and put away with the exception of a duffle bag and suitcase spilling out of a small closet under a row of empty wire hangers and a new plastic sleeve of beige polyester-blend sheets from a generic brand popular in dorms.

Bucky doesn’t challenge his lie. “What are you doing this Monday?” he asks instead.

“I’m fine. Really.”

“I didn’t ask if you were fine. I asked if you had plans. Nat’s on a business trip in an undisclosed location – I’m thinking Eastern Europe, but you know how cagey she gets when I guess – and I’ve got the run of our place. Was thinking we could go out, you, me and Sam.”

“I don’t–”

“Okay, we can stay in,” Bucky interjects quickly before Steve can cement his refusal. “Watch a bootleg and drink a couple six-packs, just like the old days. What do you say?”

“I’ll think about it,” Steve says in a voice even Tony can tell means he won’t.

But the man is relentless. “I’ll give you a call later. If you don’t pick up, I will be hurt – devastated, really – so much so that I’ll have to come over and drag you out for milkshakes to get over it.”

That seems to do it. Steve chuckles. “Alright, alright, I got it.”

Steve sees Bucky out shortly after, but his friendly, borderline-jovial façade crumbles upon the click of the lock. His shoulders slump ,and he turns, leaning his back against the door as he sinks heavily to the ground, kicking his feet out in front of him and drawing one knee up. He covers his face in both hands and breathes in deep and audible, rubbing his closed eyes with the heel of his palms when his breath hitches on the exhale.

Tony is infinitely grateful when Steve manages not to cry.

[loudsuitlover]

Prompts 15&33

A/N:  You have no idea what you do to me & God you make me mad! as requested by the lovely @pxrrishly <3 Thanks for the request! I hope you like it! XX 

Harry had been flirting with Sam for days. She had made it clear that she had a thing for him and of course Harry had played along. Sam was absolutely gorgeous, and tall and slender, and she had the most beautiful blonde hair and the most exotic accent and so you understood from the very first second that Harry was attracted to her. Granted, you would lie if you said it didn’t bother you- not only because of your crush on Harry because that had been going on long enough for you to learn to deal with his own crushes- but because lately it seemed like he was actually flirting with you. 

You would have said, before Sam arrived, that he had been flirting with you for three weeks, but then she had arrived to open your eyes and you realized he was probably just being nice and playful, nothing to give too much importance to. 

You were sitting with Sarah on Claire’s couch the night she was hosting her birthday party and Arctic Monkeys were on. Sarah was dancing despite her sitting position and she was somewhat laughing at the way Sam was dancing with this guy, some friend of Claire’s, because she wouldn’t stop glancing at Harry, who was chatting with Mitch, casually having a drink with his elbow resting on Claire’s fireplace. You awkwardly smiled.  

“Let’s go talk to him.” Sarah said. “See what’s taking him so long.” 

She knew of Harry’s real intentions and she knew you were far too clueless even though you two weren’t really close enough for you to tell her about your feelings for Harry, resulting in her not really knowing whether Harry should make a move on you or not. You rested your back next to Mitch’s, smiling at Harry as Sarah teased him about Sam for you were supportive of Harry, you always had been supportive of Harry, and you were team Harry, always, but... You just thought that maybe he would have feelings for you too and it sucked to find out he didn’t in the most graphic way possible. 

“She won’t stop looking at you, Haz.” You smiled, trying to feign carelessness. 

He glanced at her and caught her in the act as Mitch chuckled and then he turned to face you and gave you a smile as he raised his eyebrows. It was in that moment when Pink Lemonade started sounding and he knew it was one of the songs you had added to Claire’s party playlist so he held your hand and took you to the dance floor as you laughed and danced with him. 

“Trying to get her jealous or what?” You smiled. 

He found it extremely ironical that you would say that and so he chuckled and shook his head, trying hard not to punch himself in the face. Deep down he had known Louis’ plan of getting you jealous wasn’t going to work. You weren’t even a jealous person, you were confident and couldn’t care less, you knew no one would ever replace you from his life, partly because he made sure you knew that every day. But he had been flirting with you for nearly a month and you weren’t realizing anything and he had been way too obvious so maybe you were just pretending you hadn’t noticed so you didn’t have to reject him directly? So this was his chance of testing the waters, seeing how you reacted to him flirting with some other girl. 

“So what now you’re going to back down?” You teased him with a big smile. “You’ve been flirting with her nonstop and now you’re just dancing with your ugly best friend?”

“You are the farthest thing from ugly I can think of.” He rolled his eyes. 

“Right, right. You have to say that.” You smiled. “Why don’t you go dance with her? She’s like fucking you with her eyes.”

“Well I want to dance with you!” He playfully swatted your shoulder. “But if you really want me to go so bad then...” 

He turned around hoping you would grip his arm for him to stay with you but he found you grinning and talking to Sam when he turned to look at you. Sam kept glancing at Harry as you whispered things he didn’t know on her ear and then you came back with a fake smile and a punch on your throat. 

“What did you tell her?” He asked. “What did she say?” 

“She said she’ll wait for you upstairs.” .

God damn it with Sam, she did not waste her time, did she? 

“You don’t mind?” His green eyes looked into your own and you were about to yell at him that of course you mind, and that he was an idiot, but that still, you had been in love with him for years. “At all?”

“Why would I mind, Haz?” You smiled because you couldn’t tell him the truth. “Are you going to back out now?” You teased.

You couldn’t let him know because he clearly didn’t feel the same and if he had asked whether you mind, it was because he already kind of knew something and you could not let him know because then everything would be awkward and you might even lose the closeness you had with him for he would sure keep his distance and you were not about to risk that. 

“No.” He shook his head. “Of course not.”

So he went up the stairs, all the way glancing back at you and you damned yourself because he knew, he damned knew and that was why he kept looking at you. 

“I need a drink.” You blurted out as you approached Mitch and Sarah and they both looked at you with an amused expression.

“Where’s Harry?” Mitch asked. 

“He’s upstairs with Sam.” You said. 

“What?” Sarah looked at you with a horrified expression before looking at Mitch. “I don’t care what he says, this is a terrible idea!” She looked back at you. “That idiot’s in love with you. Trust me, we spent lots and lots of time with him and... He loves you.” She shook her head.

“Did you not hear what I said? He’s upstaris with-”

“He was trying to get you jealous.” Mitch shrugged his shoulders. “We told him it was a terrible idea but he wanted to see if he got a reaction from you before he risked everything by saying something.” 

“What?” 

“Just go upstairs! Stop that before he does something he’ll regret!” 

You looked at Sarah and Mitch before he sighed and pushed you towards the stairs. Could Harry really be that idiotic? You stuck your ear to the door, hoping to hear something over the loud music, worst case scenario, you would hear a moan and then you won’t open the door. They were talking, they were talking and you could barely make out their words so you silently turned the doorknob until the door was opened enough for you to hear. You waited until they spoke again. They hadn’t noticed. 

“You are gorgeous” You heard him say and your belly dropped “but... There’s another girl.” 

“It’s Y/N, isn’t it?” You panicked at her words because you were afraid they might heard your heartbeat or that you would get so hot out of embarrassement you would set the door on fire. You swallowed, waiting for Harry’s answer as if it was the most important word in the world. 

“Yeah.” 

So they were right. He liked you and he had done this whole thing to get to you? How could someone be so stupid? How could he not realize that you had loved him forever? How in the world, a man like Harry, so sensitive and kind and thoughtful, could be so oblivious to his best friend’s feelings? 

They opened the door and you were standing there, still with your ear stuch to that tiny creak you had opened and so they looked at you as if you had grown a third head. Sam smiled and squeezed your arm as she left and Harry simply stood there, blushing as hard as he had blushed with the “pussy incident” at the X Factor Finale and all it took was for you to look into his eyes. 

You took a step until your face was inches from his and then cupping his cheek you pressed your lips against his. For the first time in ten years of friendship, you had kissed Harry on the lips, and then you had panicked when he hadn’t kissed you back. You had pulled away in less than ten seconds and then you were blushing too and you both looked like two roses or two idiots and-

“God you make me mad!” 

And he didn’t let you say another word, for he had cupped your face and closed the door behind you and now he was lovingly kissing you as if he had done that so many times before, as if was what was natural to him, and you gasped against his mouth and whimped when he sucked your bottom lip inside his mouth. 

“You’re so clueless.” He whispered, resting his forehead against yours. 

“Me? You are the one who’s clueless! I... I... I love you! And I’ve been trying to attract your attention for years but you never noticed me.” You shook your head. 

You were mad at him for being such a good kisser and for making you feel funny between your legs with just a kiss and for having taken so long to kiss you. 

“I never noticed you?” He asked almost as if he was offended by your question. “You never leave my mind, Y/N, and I’ve been dreaming about you for months.”

He gripped your hips and pulled you closer to him until your bodies met and you swallowed as you felt the growing bulge on his groin against you. How could it be so hot- to feel a man’s body against yours? And how could he make you wet just by lowering his hands down your arse? 

He moaned as you kissed his neck and he grabbed your bum and squeezed it as you suck on his skin, bringing blood to the surface. He was getting harder by the second and he knew he had to stop you or else he would fuck you even before he had taken you on a proper date. 

“You have no idea what you do to me.”

And for the sake of your dating relationship he wanted to start, he grabbed your chin and pulled your face to his height so he could kiss your lips slowly and lovingly, calming both of you down but enjoying one another. He couldn’t think of a single moment he had been calmer. 

[cami-chats]

Title: The Butcher, The Baker, The Candlestick Maker-- Only Not the First and Third Ones

Link: AO3

Square Filled: Character Is A Baker

Ship: Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Pepper Potts/Tony Stark/Steve Rogers

Rating: Mature

Major Tags: Mention of a lesbian trying to force herself to be with a man

Summary: Pepper meets a gorgeous baker, now she just has to convince Tony to give a new relationship a try.

Word Count: 2231

Created for @mcukinkbingo

Full text also below

The first time Pepper saw him, she didn't give him more than a cursory glance. She hoped it didn't come off as rude, but the truth was that was was trying to make a purchase while talking on the phone, so there was only so polite she could have come across as. Honestly she was so frazzled that she didn't even think about how the blond haired, blue eyed man with muscles stretching his shirt was basically the human form of an all-american apple pie until she was back at the Tower, setting down the box of muffins on the conference table.

Huh. He was... not bad. She'd drop by again when she had a chance and see if he was there. If he wasn't, she'd keep trying until he was, and if he was, she'd try to feel him out for the basics. Namely how much of a judgmental asshole he was, but sometimes that was hard to find out from small talk.

She saw Mister Certifiably Gorgeous the next time she went in, but it was rather busy for her to do any kind of vetting. She left a big tip, tried to make her thanks as genuine as possible, and didn't even think about distracting him. She did find out that his name was Steve though, so she left feeling triumphant. The little flutter in her stomach let her know that she needed to tell Tony about him, so she made a mental note to talk to him before they went to bed that night.

With the minor explosion in R&D that day though, she forgot until they were at the brushing-teeth phase of the night, which was a little later than she preferred to have these talks. Pepper knew that Tony didn't mind, so she didn't put it off any longer. "I met somebody."

"Yeah?" Tony swished some mouthwash then spit it out, making a face at the spearmint taste instead of peppermint like he preferred. "Man or woman?"

"Man. His name's Steve, he works at that new bakery on the corner."

"Is he interested?"

"Well..."

Tony looked at her, then chuckled. "You didn't tell him, did you."

"I didn't have a chance," she said defensively. "We haven't even talked outside of customer-employee conversations."

"And you're telling me about him because?" Tony asked, looking a little confused. It wasn't an unfair emotion considering the fact that they usually had a little more attraction from the third person than this, but Pepper was a little offended all the same.

"He's really gorgeous, Tony."

He laughed again, moving towards their room and pulling back the blanket. "Well why don't you flirt a little and see how it goes."

"You don't want to meet him?"

Tony shrugged, his shoulders slightly tense.

Pepper softened, walking to him and setting a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry about Wanda, but they won't all be like that." Wanda had been a lesbian that was half in love with Pepper, and thought that she'd be able to stand Tony as part of the deal as long as she got to be with Pepper. Needless to say pretending to be bisexual hadn't ended well for any of them, especially when she insisted she was okay to have sex with Tony. It was... one of the worst break up's they'd ever had, and it had only ended a month and a half ago.

"I know," Tony said. "It's just. Ugh I don't know."

"You're scared," Pepper supplied.

"No I'm not."

Pepper didn't say anything, knowing that the lie made him feel less vulnerable while at the same time knowing that Pepper wasn't fooled by it. She kissed the back of his head. "I'll see if he's interested and keep you posted, okay?"

He nodded, turning his head for a proper kiss.

She hummed, leaning into him.

"Pep, we just got clean."

She raised an eyebrow. "Your point being?"

Tony laughed again, and she loved the way it lit up his eyes. "Nothing," he said, shaking his head.

"That's what I thought."

*

Pepper flirted the next time she went in, and the time after that Steve flirted back.

"Hey Pepper!" he said, grinning widely as he walked out of a back room, his apron dusted with either flour or powdered sugar, she didn't know which.

"Hi Steve," she said, smiling back just as big.

Sam, the man who had been preparing to take her order, looked between them. "I guess you'd rather take care of her Steve?"

"Yeah." Steve walked up to the register as Sam moved to the side, still smiling at her. "I was hoping you'd come in today, it's been a while."

"Two days."

"A very long two days," he said, pulling a solemn face as he talked before smiling again.

Pepper swallowed, willing her tingles to calm down a little before she got so wound up that she accosted Tony in his workshop for an afternoon quickie. "What were you doing back there?" she asked, glancing at his spotted apron.

He glanced down too, like he needed to double check that there was a reason she looked there as she asked. "Cake order for tomorrow."

"You bake?" she asked, surprised.

Steve blinked, the expression of a man that was so used to people knowing he did that he'd forgotten it wasn't stamped on his forehead for new people to see. "Yeah," he said, laughing a little. "There's me, a night baker, and a couple part time bakers to cover our off days."

"I'm surprised you even have days off," she said. "I feel like you're here every single time I come in."

"Well I try," he said, smile turning shy. "Did you uh, need to order still?"

"Oh! Yes." In all honesty, she'd forgotten that she had come here to get food, caught up as she was in talking to him. "What hasn't been selling today?"

"You want to buy our least popular products?" he asked, a faint, disbelieving look on his face.

She narrowed her eyes at him, personally offended somehow. "Steven," she said, unconsciously folding her arms over her chest as she looked sternly at him. "If you are trying to convince me that buying food you made would be a mistake, we're going to have a problem."

Someone that Pepper only recognized in passing around the store snorted as he walked by. "You haven't been on a date yet, an' she's already settin' you straight." He pat Steve's shoulder, leaning in to say something that she couldn't catch. Whatever it was made Steve blush harder though, so perhaps she didn't want to hear it.

"Go away punk," Steve said, shoving playfully at him. "Sorry about him," he said bashfully, smoothing the front of his apron for something to do with his hands. He glanced at the door his friend had gone through, then turned back to her. "So uh, you can definitely say no and we can forget all about it, but would you maybe um- want to go on a date with me sometime?"

Pepper blushed lightly, a dusting of pink across her cheeks. She wanted to say yes so badly, but going on a first date with someone and then explaining the situation was so much worse than explaining it beforehand. "Ah. It's... complicated."

"Oh." Steve's smile was fading now, and she hated it. He looked like a golden retriever that was just told it wasn't allowed to be pet. "Sorry uh." He cleared his throat uncomfortably. "So what can I get for you?"

"Steve. When I said it's complicated, I didn't mean 'I'm taken so back off', I meant it takes some time to explain and most people aren't okay with it."

"So you're... poly?" he asked tentatively, probably afraid that he was wrong and she'd get upset.

She smiled though, relieved. "Yes. And we date as a pair, so I didn't want to agree to anything without him. If you're still interested, we can all meet up when you're free. If you're not, no harm done." She reached into her pocket for a card and a pen. "Take some time to think about it," she said, scrawling her personal number on the back, "and get back to me." She held it up, holding her breath until he took it from her.

He nodded, tucking it into his back pocket, obviously taking her seriously.

"Great," she said, unable to keep the relief from her voice. "Take some time to think it over, there's no pressure." She smiled reassuringly and left. It wasn't until the door was closing behind her that she paused, realizing that she hadn't bought anything. It would probably be more embarrassing to turn back now than to deal with it later, so she kept walking.

Of course that was the moment that Tony texted her, asking if they had anything with cherries and if they did would she please get him five. She took a deep breath, bracing herself as she turned around and walked back in.

Steve was shocked to see her again, and she waved sheepishly. "Tony's craving cherries," she explained, going back up to the counter. "Do you have anything like that?"

*

"I talked to Steve," Pepper said, sliding Tony the pastries.

He shoved a whole one in his mouth before he responded. "How'd he take it?"

"He needs some time to think. I gave him my number but," she shrugged. There was nothing they could do but wait-- or so Pepper constantly had to remind him so that he didn't gift people with Ferrari's at every turn.

Before she could worry too much about future bakery purchases, Steve texted her that night.

It's Steve (from the bakery). Can I meet your partner before I agree to anything?

Absolutely. We'll drop by tomorrow? At 3?

Sounds good. See you then.

*

"Okay Tony what are we not going to do?" Pepper asked as they walked to the bakery.

"Pepper," he whined. She shot him a sharp look, and he rolled his eyes. She was always so uptight about new people and he wished there was some way he could force her to relax a little. Tony heaved a sigh before dutifully repeating, "We are not going to proposition him or otherwise try to scare him off, and I'm not allowed to casually hand him a hundred dollars."

"You're not allowed to hand him any money. Leave all exchanges of paper-- monetary or not-- to me. He's going to think he can hand you things otherwise, and you'll pretend to be okay and then you'll panic when we get back to the tower. Hands to yourself for the good of mankind."

"I don't think the good of mankind hinges on whether or not I panic."

"I disagree."

They were still bickering goodnaturedly as they walked into the bakery, and Pepper had to poke him hard in the arm to get his attention. "What?" he asked, rubbing his arm with a betrayed look on his face.

She nodded at something, and Tony turned to look.

Then he froze. "Wow." He was pretty sure there were Greek statues that looked exactly like this man, only not quite as pretty. Steve-- because that must have been who it was-- was certainly more attractive than any slab of marble could be, no matter how nicely it was carved. "Do you think he takes steroids?" Tony asked under his breath. "There's no way those muscles are natural."

Pepper looked at him disbelievingly. "People say the same about your ass."

"They say I take steroids to get it that way?"

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Not the time Tony."

"You always say that."

"That's because it's always true."

"You're so mean to me."

"Only as mean as you are to me," she said, shooting him a saccharine smile.

"Am I interrupting something?" Steve said, standing a few feet away as he looked between the two of them, looking like he was legitimately concerned that they were having a fight and not just arguing for the fun of it.

"No," they said in unison, and it sounded like the truth instead of when most couples said that as a complete and utter lie.

"You must be Steve," Tony said, grinning at him.

"I must be." Tony knew there was every reason for him to look nervous, but he still had to swallow down the urge to tease him about it. "And you're Pepper's boyfriend?"

"I prefer partner."

Steve winced. "Right, sorry."

Tony waved the apology off. "It's fine. I'm Tony, by the way." He fake glared at Pepper. "I guess someone hasn't been talking your ear off about me as much as she's been doing it to me about you."

"I have to talk about you all day, I didn't feel the need to inflict you on Steve."

"You're inflicting me on him now," Tony grumbled.

Steve looked like he was starting to have doubts, so Tony tried to dial it down a little.

*

How they ended up getting a date after that, Tony had no idea.

*

How they ended up spending morning-afters with Steve making muffins in their kitchen, neither Pepper nor Tony knew, but they were going to enjoy the hell out of it. Especially since sometimes Steve would bake shirtless and they'd get to see the hickies they left from the night before on him.

[justanoutlawfic]

Back To You: Chapt. 5

Story Summary: 5 years ago, Belle left Storybrooke and became a New York Times Bestselling Author. Now, she's returning to Storybrooke to try to convince her husband to finally give her the divorce she's been begging for. However, the longer she spends in town...the more she realizes...maybe that's not what she wants anymore.

Chapter Summary: Belle and Jefferson make a plan. At The Miner Day’s Festival, Belle gains perspective.

Also on AO3

Belle sat anxiously as she listened to the Skype call ring. She had never been this nervous to talk to Jefferson, ever. A part of her wondered why. Sampson had given her what she wanted, he had signed the divorce papers. Nothing was stopping her from accepting Jefferson’s proposal now. Her mom had asked if she was nervous if Jefferson still wanted to marry her, but it wasn’t even that. Whether he did or he didn’t, it didn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong.

 Was this really what she had wanted all those years ago?

 “Of course it was,” she mumbled to herself.

 She had gone to her mom in tears after the third time Gold had driven home from work drunk. It was nearly a year after losing Nellie and nothing had changed. She had gone to Dr. Hopper for help with her grieving, but Gold didn’t want to work on his own. He drank, he went to the shop and he’d come home long after he’d thought she’d gone to bed. She was terrified of losing him, terrified of losing the man he had once been.

 It took a pregnancy scare to knock some sense into her. She had loved him, of course she did A year prior, she had wanted nothing more than to be the mother of his children. The man he was then, though? She couldn’t bring a child into this world with him being a drunk.

 She couldn’t bring a child into this world, the same way her mother had.

 The way Colette had looked at her, with such fear, made her feel even worse. Her mom had worked so hard to make sure she had a better life for herself, even if it meant they’d have to be apart. She had given Belle what she needed to leave and Belle had promised her she’d never look back.

 So, she couldn’t start now.

 The ringing stopped and Jefferson’s face took over her laptop screen.

 “Hi,” she whispered.

“Hey.”

“I um, I don’t know if you’re busy…or…”

“No, I just got out of a meeting actually.”

“Good, good…” She paused. “So, my husband signed the papers.”

“Really?”

 There was a hesitance in his voice and Belle couldn’t blame him. She reached into her bag and pulled out the documents Sampson had signed, showing him the final page. A tiny smile of relief fell across Jefferson’s face.

 “Wow.”

“Yeah, I don’t know what came over him, but he finally did it.” Belle set the papers down. “I am really sorry I never told you about all this.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“Because, I didn’t think you’d want to date me. I have a lot of baggage, Jefferson. I promise though, this is the only thing I lied about. I’m still the same girl you fell in love with.”

“I know.”

“You do?”

“It was an impossible situation. I’ve tried putting myself in your shoes a million times since you told me and I wondered what I would do. I want to think I’d be honest, but…I don’t know. It is a lot.”

 Belle slowly nodded, letting out the breath she had been holding in.

 “I still want to marry you, Belle.”

She nodded. “And if you asked me again, I could give you an honest answer.” She smiled a bit. “I’ll be home as soon as I can. I promised my friend I’d go to this festival with her tonight, but maybe I could catch a flight tomorrow…”

“Or Gracie and I could come up to you.”

Belle raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“We could get married there. All your friends and family, I’ll bring Jasmine and Ariel with me.”

“Oh, Jeff, I don’t know…”

“I always wanted to see where you grew up, this is my chance.”

“Don’t you want a big, fancy wedding?”

“I had that with my first wife. Look, it’d be fun. I’ll fly up in about a week and then we can start the planning.”

 Belle wanted to say no, she wanted to argue that it wasn’t enough time. Yet, deep down she knew that if Sampson could be so willing to sign the divorce papers, surely he’d have one of his judge friends sign off on it in the meantime. The only thing holding her back, was herself.

 “Um…sure.”

Jefferson grinned from ear to ear. “Great. A proper Maine wedding it will be.”

“Yay,” Belle said, trying to sound as enthusiastic as he did.

The Miner’s Day Festival was a long held tradition in Storybrooke. According to history, the nuns would exchange candles for coal with the miners and apparently everyone was so grateful, it became an official holiday in the small town. The weeks before the festival, Mary Margaret Nolan held up a fundraiser for selling candles and there’d be a big celebration at the end of it. It was a fun excuse to run around, eat fattening fair food and just get together. Belle’s last one had been right before she decided to get the hell out of dodge and it seemed like nothing had changed.

 She spotted Ruby sitting at a picnic table with Emma and Regina, which made her pause. She had talked with Ruby and Regina, but hadn’t seen Emma since the party the night before. She slowly walked over and hung back a bit.

 “Hey guys,” she said.

Ruby looked up at her with a smile. “Hey.”

Belle looked over at Emma. “I’m really sorry about last night.”

Emma shrugged. “Forget about it.” She turned to Henry, handing him some cash. “Go get Belle a hot cocoa.”

 Henry nodded and raced off, while Belle slid into the seat next to Regina’s. She looked around the festival, catching the eyes of familiar faces. If anyone was still upset with her about the party, they weren’t showing it and she was grateful. Small towns were notorious for being gossipy.

 She got a good sight of Gold and her heart skipped a beat. He had…cut his hair? Why would he do a thing like that? Sure, he had trimmed it over the time when she had known him, but now it was perfectly groomed, no stray hairs anywhere.

 “He claims it’s because he’s getting older,” Emma said.

“Huh?”

“Sampson’s hair. Don’t pretend like you weren’t looking.”

A tiny bit of blush spread across Belle’s cheeks. “I…I wasn’t expecting it.”

“He came around the house to pick us up and he about knocked me over with a feather.” Emma shrugged. “It’s not as if we don’t know the real reason.”

“He told you about that?”

“It was all over town by this afternoon. Leroy saw him handing you some papers in the shop,” Regina cut in.

Belle frowned. “I didn’t think it’d happen so quickly.”

“You know this town.”

“I just…I can’t believe he finally did it. I never understood why he wouldn’t.”

 Emma and Regina exchanged a look, almost as if they were having a silent conversation. Belle folded her arms over her chest.

 “What?”

“Sam went to New York, you know,”  Emma said. “It was right around the time he got out of rehab…”

“He went to rehab?”

“Yup. He got straight out and flew down to see you. He saw how amazing it was, though. He knew it was where all your dreams were going to come true. He knew deep down that he had to clean himself up a lot more before he’d win you back.”

“That’s why he wouldn’t sign the papers,” she whispered.

Emma nodded. “I guess it doesn’t matter anymore, does it?”

“Guess not.”

 Henry returned, Neal and a few others not far behind him. Belle hung back for most of the night, watching the festival go on. Eventually, though, she got up and started wondering around. She moved far out of the noise of the festival, the pop music drowning out behind her. She made it to the well, the very same one she had stood at the day she left home. She had tossed a coin in, wishing for a sign that she was doing the right thing.

 “Penny for your thoughts?”

The sudden accented voice threw Belle off and she looked up. “What are you doing here?”

Gold shrugged. “Festivals aren’t really my thing, I like to come around here to think I guess.”

“This is where I came the day I decided I was going to leave you,” she whispered. “Wished for a sign.”

“Did you get one?”

“No. Still left, anyway.”

“Belle…”

“You know, I’m really happy in New York,” she mumbled. “Then I come here and, well, I find that I’ve missed it.”

“You don’t miss this place.”

“Don’t tell me how I feel. I miss a lot about it. I miss my mom, I miss my friends. I miss how peaceful it was, how it felt to go where everyone knew you.”

“You can’t have roots and wings.”

 Belle looked away, staring down at the well.

 “You cut your hair.”

“Felt time for a change.”

“And here I thought only teen girls cut their hair when going through a breakup.”

“Funny.”

“You ever gonna tell me what happened to your leg?”

“Car accident,” Gold admitted. “A little after you left.”

“Drunk driving?”

“Can’t tell a lie.”

She let out a shallow breath. “You could’ve killed yourself and you’d have deserved it too.”

“Oh trust me, I know. I was stupid. It was the wakeup call I needed.”

Belle finally met his eye. “I’m glad you’re sober, I really, really am. I can’t imagine how hard it was.”

“It wasn’t easy, that’s for sure. I just took it one day at a time, like the prayer says.”

“The serenity prayer.”

“You know it?”

“It’s not just for addicts, you know. After we lost Nellie, I’d say it to myself all the time.”

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you, Belle, not the way a husband should be.”

“Sam…”

“No, just listen. I was selfish and stupid. I knew you were going through a lot, but losing that baby…it just broke something in me. When Milah left, I nearly went off the deep end but I had Neal to keep me in check. When we lost the baby…I knew I had you, but I didn’t let that be enough. I wish I had chose you, that I had been the man you deserved. The man you married.”

 The crickets sang in the background, but for once it wasn’t out of awkward silence. Belle was looking at her soon-to-be-ex in awe.

“I’m so sorry, for everything.”

“I forgave you a long time ago,” she said, softly. “And I’m sorry too, for running away.”

“You did what you had to. And I’m so proud of you, Belle, you have no idea.”

“I bet you haven’t even read any of my books.”

“Oh really?”

“You always said romance novels were for the hopeless.”

“Well, I happen to think that Rumford is an idiot and that Lacey is my favorite character from book or screen.”

Belle bit her lip. “You did read them.”

“A big change from when you first started writing.”

“After the baby...just didn’t seem right.”

“You have to write what you know. And that’s what you knew.”

“Rumford was highly exaggerated.”

“No, he wasn’t. I was pretty bad. I didn’t blame Lacey for never going back, and I never blamed you.”

“You still didn’t sign the papers.”

“I had hope.”

 She was quiet again, running her fingers over the stone.

 “I just needed a new life.”

“And you got your wish. I’m proud of you, Belle. I wish I could’ve been the husband you needed.” He took hold of her hand. “I’m sure this next guy will be better.”

 Belle looked from his hand, to back at him. A part of her knew she should just leave. Walk away, go back to the festival or go home, go anywhere. Call Jefferson and tell him that she couldn’t get married in Maine, there was just too much damn history.

 Instead, she leaned in and kissed her husband for the first time in 5 years.

 And she hated herself for admitting that it felt damn good.

 She didn’t want it to end. Her hands went up to his cheeks and she held on for dear life as he deepened the kiss. For a moment, she was walking on Cloud 9 once again.

 Suddenly, he pulled away and she stumbled back a bit. He looked at her with the same love he had for all those years and she waited for him to beg her not to marry Jefferson, beg for her to go back to him.

 Instead, the next words out of his mouth were, “Go home.”

“Sam.”

“Go home, Belle.”

 She slowly walked away from the well, willing herself to not look back.

 Little did she know, someone had been witnessing the entire scene…

[sophisticated-angel]

The Parent Trap - Part Four

Character: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester

Warning: None

Word Count: 1,479

Part One - Part Two - Part Three

Summary: Ramona and Mitchell have been using their friendship to get their parents in the same rooms for over a month. This time, Mitchell and Ramona approach Sam when he’s alone and hatch a plan to speed up the process.

Story:

   There’s a reason you haven’t dated much. Not necessarily because Mitchell had a problem with your dates or they had a problem with your son, although both have happened once or twice. You have a secret, and not the normal kind. No one in town knows what you did before motherhood; the people who do know are dead or as good as. Honestly, you’d like to fall in love, get married, give your son a father, but they’d all run if you told them the truth. They would bring trouble for both of you, and you can’t risk that.

   This is your secret: you were a monster hunter. You quit to raise Mitchell, but life before the baby was all about exorcising demons and burning bones. The finer points and specifics have rusted over time, but you’ve found a use for some skills. To this day, you slip protective hex bags into your son’s backpack. Sigils are etched into the kitchen cabinets, a demon trap is painted beneath the carpet in Mitchell’s room, you carry a silver knife wherever you go, and there are two shotguns in the house – one in your dresser drawer, and one in the garage. No monster will ever hurt your son, but you can never tell him or anyone about any of it. It makes relationships tricky.

   That’s why this Dean thing is always on your mind. He’s sweet, Mitchell likes him, and you honest to God like him too. Winter segues into spring. Mitchell’s school organizes more events, and Dean is there for whatever you are. It isn’t coincidence – your children are in the same class – but you find yourself looking forward to his company. At the school play, he takes the seat beside yours. Your parent-teacher conferences are back to back. You chaperone the same field trip. On Parent Day, you listen to him explain his job to twenty third-graders. With every encounter, you learn a little bit more about him – that he wears a lot of flannel and is married to his car, for example – and succumb to his charm that much more. Sometimes you want to say you’re falling in love with him.

   For the first time since they met, Mitchell is going over to Ramona’s apartment. It’s the first day of spring break, and he’ll be staying the night. He’s been waiting for this all weekend and has been on the phone with her near constantly working out details. Part of you envies him when you remember the time Dean made dinner at your house. You drop him off promptly at six PM with a packed bag and an armload of board games and movies. Ramona answers the door and helps Mitchell set the supplies on the living room couch.

   “Looks like you guys are set for the night,” Dean says as he zips up a duffel bag.

   “Headed out?” you ask.

   “Oh, uh, yeah. Meant to call and let you know. Orders are backed up at the garage, so a couple of us are going in tonight to take care of them. Sam’s gonna watch the kids.”

   “No, Daddy!” Ramona cries with a frown. “You said you were gonna make dinner!”

   “Sorry, Mon Ami. I gotta go to work. I’ll make dinner another time, I promise.” Giving his daughter an apologetic kiss on the cheek, he shoulders the duffel bag. “Behave for your uncle, okay?”

   Dean slips past you, saying a quick goodbye before disappearing down the hall. Before leaving yourself, you give Mitchell the same instruction to behave. All he does is smile, nod, and wave you out.

*    *    *    *    *

   In a rush of five minutes, Sam is alone with his niece and her friend. They quickly vanish into Ramona’s bedroom, so Sam sits down at the table and looks up the listings for local takeout. Soon, he looks up to see the eight-and nine-year-old fixing him with a serious look, hands folded on the tabletop in a businesslike fashion. Ramona clears her throat.

   “Yes?”

   “Uncle Sam,” she says, “we need to talk.”

   “About what?” Intrigued and having a pretty good idea of where this is going, Sam mimics their position.

   “Daddy needs to ask miss (y/n) out on a date.”

   “You think so.”

   “Mama likes Dean,” says Mitchell, “and I think Dean likes Mama back.”

   “And Lord knows Daddy needs a girlfriend.”

   Sam snorts. “So what are you gonna do about it?”

   “Well, when Daddy gets home, me and Mitchell are gonna tell him to ask her out.”

   “I know lots of restaurants Mama likes.”

   “How am I involved?” Sam points to himself.

   “You have to be okay with watching me and Mitchell. We can’t stay at home by ourselves.”

   Nodding, Sam says, “I think I can do that. Is there anything else?”

   Ramona shakes her head. “I wanna kick your butt in Scrabble now.”

*    *    *    *    *

   Not once in the past five years has Dean Winchester kissed a woman, but he almost did when he left home. When he slipped past (y/n) to leave, he felt the urge to peck her on the cheek. It wasn’t a romantic urge, just . . . habit, or something. For a moment, he forgot that she’s little more than a good friend, was so comfortable with her being there that it felt natural to kiss her goodbye. He almost kissed her. For the night, he puts it out of his mind, and by the time he returns in the morning, he’s forgotten all about it.

   The first words he hears when he walks in are shouted by his daughter. “Daddy, Uncle Sam burned the pancakes!”

   “That’s because your uncle can’t cook, sweetheart.”

   “I didn’t burn them, Ramona,” Sam argues. “They’re just a little dark.”

   “Mitchell thinks they’re burned too!”

   Mitchell is at the table devouring the evidence. Obviously, he doesn’t care how dark his pancakes are. Dean, holding back a yawn, shrugs off his duffel bag and jacket. Moments later, his pajamaed daughter gives him a proper welcome home hug.

   “What did you do to your head?” she asks with concern.

   Dean rubs his hand across his forehead, wincing when he brushes across a small gash near his temple. In the car, he cleaned up what blood oozed from it, but he can tell the area is beginning to bruise.

   “Hit my head.”

   “And why do you smell funny?”

   “I’ve been elbow deep in dirty car parts all night, Mon Ami.”

   “You should shower.”

   “I should. How about I do that, take a nap, and then we’ll take Mitchell home?”

   Ramona nods. “Sounds good, but first”—she crosses her arms—“we need to have a talk.”

*    *    *    *    *

   The empty silence to which you wake up confuses you at first. Most days your alarm or the sounds of your son’s television show wakes you up, but today there’s nothing. It’s nearly noon when you wake up and remember that Mitchell spent the night at Dean’s apartment. You take your time getting out of bed, getting dressed, and making breakfast. You don’t realize how loud life with a nine-year-old is until he’s not home. Peace is short-lived, however, because not two hours have passed when someone pounds your front door.

   Behind it stands Mitchell, fists raised even as he beams innocently, and Ramona and Dean. Stepping aside, you wait for them to enter, but no one moves. The children fix their eyes on Dean expectantly, and a pause passes.

   Dean clears his throat. “Alright. See you later, Mitchell.” He begins to turn, but the kids grab his arms and make him stay.

   “Daddy, no,” Ramona states firmly. “You promised.”

   You lift an eyebrow. “Promised what?”

   “Dean has something he wants to ask you,” explains Mitchell.

   “He does?”

   Dean blanches when you meet his eyes. His lips press together in a thin white line, and he rubs his jaw. Impatient, Ramona clears her throat. It appears to you that Dean sends up a silent prayer, maybe gives himself a pep talk, and then he shakes his head and looks you in the eye with some effort. Unbidden, your heart flutters in anticipation.

   “So these two think I should ask you something, and so does Sam. I guess I’ve kind of been wanting to, but I didn’t know when or how. Don’t want to inconvenience you or – or make you uncomfortable, you know?” He laughs nervously and licks his lips, rocking on his heels. “Anyway, the, uh, the question is would you . . . will you, maybe . . . go out with me?”

   You smile, a pleasant heat rising to your cheeks. “Been hoping you’d ask,” you admit. “Dinner?”

   “I’ll pick you up at eight?”

   “Yeah.”

   Mitchell applauds. Ramona squeals, grabs her father’s hand, and excitedly pulls him back to their car, barely giving him a chance to wave goodbye.

READ PART FIVE HERE

@27bmm​ @edward-lover18​ @michaelsskinnyjeans​ @pureawesomeness001

[cameronwjones]

18 Time-saving Event Planning Tips

Save time, work more efficiently, own your events. While event hacks might be a stretch, these time-saving event tips will help cut out the noise and focus on your main objectives.

Let's be honest, event planning is a stressful job. At any given time there are a number of jobs that need to get done and it can seem like every deadline comes right down to the wire. The 18 tips in this blog post will help you save time during the event planning process and ensure your next event is wildly successful. Let's dive right in.

1. Start Early

As you know, planning an event is a monumental task. The more time you can give yourself to nail down every little detail, the better. So start as early as possible. This will not only allow you to maintain your sanity, but also give you an advantage when booking a venue, finding event staff (we'll talk more about this later in the post), and putting out unavoidable fires.

2. Leverage Event Software

Want to maximize event ROI? Then do yourself a favor and leverage the power of event software when planning and managing your next event. This type of tool will save you time (on average, businesses that use event software save 223 hours a year) and craft a unified brand experience for each of your attendees.

"[Event software] helped us take full advantage of our event data and draw key insights that were crucial to our success."

—Melissa Moore, Co-founder of the Lean Startup Co.

3. Invest In Essential Event Tools

Even software, while incredibly important, isn't the only tool you should consider investing in. There are other important event tools worthy of your consideration as well, such as project management apps like Trello, marketing automation tools like HubSpot (more on this below), software integration tools like Zapier, and event streaming software like Livestream.

There are plenty of amazing apps out there that will make your life as an event planner less stressful. The key is finding the tools that work for you and the kind of events you manage. So do some experimenting and create a custom event technology stack that fits your needs and your budget.

4. Focus on the Priority

Knowing how to best prioritize your time and efforts is a common productivity tip. The more focused you can be on the right objectives, the more success you'll see. This is especially true when planning an event.

There are a million different things that need to be accomplished in order for your event to be deemed a success. Where do you start? Understanding what's most important and what deserves priority will allow you to focus on the big wins; the things that really matter.

First, determine what your overarching vision is. Then prioritize your to-do list based on important tasks, not just urgent ones. Finally, tackle each item on your list one at a time. This simple framework will ensure proper time management when event planning.

5. Follow A Proven Process

As we've already mentioned, event planning isn't for the faint of heart. The good news is, there are proven templates and processes you can follow. You aren't the first person to plan an event and you won't be the last. Look to the successes and failures of those who have gone before you to gain valuable insights.

This event strategy guidewill get you started. In it, you'll learn everything you need to know about hosting a successful event in 2019 — the planning, launching, promoting, managing, and even wrapping processes are all covered in detail (more on this below).

6. Create A List

Let's delve deeper into prioritization and how creating lists can assist. Whether you consider yourself a "list person" or not, writing things down and structuring your day in a specific way has its benefits.

Start by determining every single thing you need to get done. This list should include the big things like booking a venue and finding sponsors, and the smaller (but still important) things like hiring an event logo designer (or coordinating with your in-house design team).

Once everything has been written down, you can begin to schedule each task for specific days. Remember to set deadlines for every to-do item and check them off once they've been completed. This will keep you organized and on track.

An example of a prioritization sheet could look like this:

Task Name

Priority

Size

Owner

Due Date

Launch Event Website

High

Large

Sam

7/20/19

Confirm Catering Details With Vendor

Low

Small

Alex

8/16/19

Event Press Release

Medium

Medium

Alex

7/23/19

7. Delegate, Delegate, Delegate

Have we mentioned yet that event planning is a colossal endeavor? It is. And that's why you shouldn't attempt to do everything by yourself. Delegation is key to hosting a successful event

It will also engage your team and help them feel more invested in their work, which will boost their productivity and decrease company turnover. 

Do your best to delegate the right tasks to the right employees, give them clear guidelines and expectations. Then allow them to work independently. Delegation isn't useful if you constantly need to look over their shoulder.

8. Hire Quality Help

Sometimes delegating tasks to your team isn't enough. You may find it necessary to hire event freelancers to help you achieve your goals. What can a freelancer help you with? Many things including website development, customer support, and event photography.

Discover where the holes are in your team, then plug with talented individuals from sites like UpWork and Freelancer or online communities like Eventovation.

9. Find Volunteers

Not every event helper needs to be a hired gun. Finding event volunteers is totally possible, especially if your event's main purpose is to raise awareness or money for a charitable cause. You just have to ask.

Start with the people you know. Will any of your employees be willing to lend a helping hand. When you've exhausted your personal contacts, look to volunteer networks. Software tools like Volgistics and VolunteerHub give event planners access to information on thousands of skilled volunteers.

Remember, just because you aren't paying volunteers doesn't mean they shouldn't receive any incentives for helping out. If possible, offer helpers free admission to your event, complimentary food, or free products from your company to drum up interest.

10. Partner With An Agency

Sometimes the best way to ensure your event is a success is to partner with an event agency that specializes in helping companies host amazing get-togethers. Fortunately for you, we've already done the hard work of finding these organizations.

The list, linked to below, contains over 150 top-tier event and experiential marketing companies. Some focus on specific event types, others are full-service, but each is great at what they do. If you feel in over your head, enlist the help of one of these event agencies.

11. Use Marketing Automation Software

Event marketing automation software such as HubSpot, Marketo, and Salesforce, and to a lesser extent, Get Response, Infusionsoft, and Autopilot, allows event organizers to better engage attendees and produce more personalized event experiences.

Imagine being able to, once an attendee registers for an event, automatically add them to your company's CRM records, send them pre-written emails at specific times that correspond with exactly where they're at in the customer journey, and more.

This is all possible with the right software platforms and a bit of knowledge and forethought.

A sample marketing automation workflow for an event.

12. Invest In CRM Software

Customer Relationship Management (CRM) software is essential for most businesses in this day and age. Your company's customers want personalized experiences. This is nearly impossible to provide without an accurate and deep knowledge of your customer base.

Events are key touchpoints in multichannel marketing strategies. Tracking how an event contributes to a customer or prospect’s lifetime journey with your company is a valuable metric to have. Every registrant's details should be synced to the CRM of your choice after your event, then incorporated into future marketing and sales efforts.

13. Say Goodbye To Manual Reporting

Many event planners tend to do their reporting manually via spreadsheets. Not only does this take a lot more time than it needs to, but it's also more error-prone. Instead, use software to automatically crunch event metrics and generate reports.

We recommend using data visualization software that can reconcile data from multiple sources including your company's CRM and marketing automation solutions. But it would also be wise to invest in software tools (like Bizzabo) that are able to generate their own comprehensible and easy to understand reports about event performance.

A glance at reporting in Bizzabo.

14. Integrate Your Event Technology Stack

We've mentioned numerous pieces of software and technology so far in this post. Each, when used correctly, is incredibly useful. But the real trick is getting each tool to play nicely with the other apps you plan to use. That's where event software integrations come into play.

Some software solutions will integrate with one another out-of-the box. Others require using a third-party integration solution like Zapier. This means that your event management software, CRM tool, email marketing platform, and more will all work together seamlessly, reducing the amount of tedious data entry you'll need to do.

15. Create A System To Scale

We recently got a chance to sit down with our friend Aleksandra Panyukhina, Head of Event Marketing at SEMrush, and learned quite a bit. Her team participated in dozens of events in 2018 on five different continents. So when it comes to event planning, she's a verified expert.

In the interview, Aleksandra talked about the importance of systems and scaling. One of the SEMrush keys to success has been their ability to maintain a consistent brand image, no matter the size or location of their next event. This can only be done by developing the proper systems that will scale and maintaining clear communication with team members.

16. Measure, Measure, Measure!

Measuring event ROI is an important practice. After all, you can't accurately determine if an event is successful or not without understanding what your company is gaining in return for all the time, effort, and expenses it's taken to host the event.

Unfortunately, tracking event ROI isn't always easy, but there are a few tools that can help. Marketing platforms like Bizzabo and HubSpot, business intelligence software such as Sisense and Tableau, attribution platforms like Google Analytics, and your company's CRM software can all help you track event ROI.

It's important to remember that you should be aiming to create value with your events, not just immediate monetary gain. An event that loses money, but generates a large amount of high-quality leads may still be deemed successful.

17. Make Sure Your Email Game Is On Point

Email for event planners is a necessity, though it's all too easy to get bogged down when messages are constantly hitting your inbox. It can feel like you're always playing catch-up and the goal of inbox-zero will never be met. But it doesn't have to be this way.

Here are a few of our favorite email management tips for event planners:

Use Technology: An app like Boomerang can help remind you to follow up on emails you don't hear back on.

Use Canned Responses: How much of your time is wasted sending essentially the same reply to multiple people? Get that time back and leverage canned responses.

Filter Your Messages: By better organizing your inbox, you can reduce stress levels and increase efficiency. Perhaps all messages from a certain client go into one folder. Or maybe you create a "Respond Later" folder so you don't constantly feel the need to respond to every message right away.

Hit the Unsubscribe Button: Do you honestly read and enjoy every single message that floats through your inbox? Probably not. Start unsubscribing and reduce the emails you need to filter through every day.

18. Expect The Unexpected

Finally, with so many variables involved in event planning, not everything will always go as expected. It's better to plan for this.

We recommend you schedule extra time for last minute requests, especially in the final few weeks before your event takes place. That way you aren't caught off-guard and will have enough time to accomplish what needs to get done.

Your Turn: Efficiently Planning Your Event

These tips, when used together, act as a sort of event planning template and will help ensure your next event is a success. We encourage you to read through these strategies again and begin implementing as many as possible into your event planning workflow.

Looking for more event planning wisdom, check out this report on the latest event trends.

from Cameron Jones Updates https://blog.bizzabo.com/time-saving-event-planning-tips

[scarletkate1881]

Coming Down - Chapter Three

A/N: If you’re reading, THANK YOU! And don’t be a stranger, send some requests if you want. I just want friends.

Promise

To say I’d become rusty may be a huge understatement, after only twenty minutes of basic training in the Danger Room I’m out of breath and have a stitch in my right side. Sweaty and panting, I watch as my fellow teammates whiz by me; Colossus charging full speed toward the “Sentinel” while Kurt pops up here, there and everywhere. Thankfully, Gambit was nowhere to be seen, I wonder if he’d just skipped or if he just didn’t have to practice alongside the rest of the team.

It’s not like I just sat on my ass while I was away, I did go running most days when I could be bothered, maybe I should have joined a boxing class or something.

“Rogue, I know you’ve just came back, but we can’t have anyone here lacking; get it together!” Cyclops shouted from the other side of the room before turning on his optic blasts and propelling a flying Sentinel into the ceiling before it came crashing back down.

“I know,” I muttered, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to hear me, but I did try to get back into the action.

Gaining control of my powers had come with other perks; the powers I’d absorbed I could call upon, at least the ones that I’d had the most exposure to, like Wolverine’s and Magneto’s. So, channeling the old bucket head himself, I pulled his abilities to the front of my mind.

It. Felt. Amazing. Just to feel the metal around me, it made the hairs on my arms and on the back of my neck stand up, while also giving me chills. The fact that I could tear this room in two filtered through my mind, and I’m not sure that those thoughts could be solely blamed on Magneto.

I scoured the room, looking for who needed the help most. My eyes landed on Jubilee, who still wasn’t allowed to go out on proper missions as Summers didn’t think she was ready.

Easily, I lifted myself into the air, going higher and higher until I was eye-level with the thirty-foot Sentinel; it’s focus was on the small girl who was throwing harmless firecrackers at it. So, I raised my hands and extended the power to grasp the metal giant.

“Might want to move, Jubes!” I called down, I didn’t look to see if she heeded my advice, I kept my eyes on the robot as I concentrated on stripping away it’s iron shell from its face; it was easy, like pulling down wallpaper. I got the sudden instinct to clench my fists, so I did.

The thirty-foot metal monster crumpled like it was nothing but paper; the yells and bangs behind me stopped as the ball of jagged iron fell to the ground with a loud crash. As I lowered myself to the ground I could feel their eyes on me and hear the whispering.

I took a deep breath as I worked on pushing Magneto back into his cell before I turned around and faced them with a smile on my face. “If Sinister’s anything like this, I think we’re in with a chance,” Keep smiling, stay confident, you totally meant to do that. I moved some of my white fringe back behind my ear. “I might just be this team’s lucky charm.”

“That was awesome!” Bobby exclaimed with a wide smile on his face; Scott and Jean didn’t seem to share this opinion if their worried looks were anything to go by.

“And that brings a close to this session, go clean up everybody, same time tomorrow.” Scott instructed, his eyes still on me, so I knew he probably want me to stay behind.

It took a few minutes for everyone to filter out and for the simulation to shut down, so we were just standing in a bare metal dome room. So, I was left facing Summers and Grey, the main team leaders.

“Rogue, I get that you want to help, but using those types of powers could go wrong; we don’t know how much hold you have over them, they could easily spiral out of control which may cause more harm that good.” Scott spoke slowly, as if he was talking to a child, while I may have been doing work on my social skills, one thing I didn’t even bother trying to change was my quick temper, that would take too much work.

“Don’t you think that’s the reason why Mystique and Xavier wanted me back here? Because I have all of these powers? To maybe give you guys a slight advantage? I’m practically a one-woman army here!”

“That’s really not a good thing, Rogue, remember what happened before when you absorbed too much? Maybe it’s the same if you keep calling up those psyches, if you keep using them they may take over.” Jean, as always, trying to be the calm voice of reason with a soothing smile.

“Fine, I’ll just rely on being a leech and knocking people out, without giving them a taste of their own medicine, sure, that’s just great.” I muttered as I turned and stalked out of the Danger Room, not waiting to hear either of their responses.

After a blissful shower, I ventured down to the common room, not really wanting to just sit in my temporary room in silence. I was surprised to see only Kurt, Jubilee and Rahne sitting around; then again, I guess now that most of the occupants are in their twenties and have a lot more freedom than they did when they were teenagers, they’d be out doing other stuff, rather than just sitting around watching TV or playing video games.

Maybe it was because this place didn’t house as many people as it used to; from dinner last night, I’d heard talk that Sam, Amara and Ray had left, they stayed in contact with some people here, but they were either back with their families or doing their own thing. I wasn’t too sure about Jamie or Sunspot. And those were just the people I knew during my time here, I knew from Logan that for the first two years after I left, there had been an influx of mutant children passing through the doors of Xavier’s, yet none had remained after the school was shut down, not that I could really blame them.

Jubes and Rahne were busy reading celeb trash magazines and gossiping, while Kurt was raptly watching some cartoon, from what I could gather in the couple of seconds I was taking in the scene, it was about a grandfather and grandson going through portals.

“Hey Rogue, what you did in training was awesome!” Jubilee exclaimed when she noticed me in the doorway.

“It’s too bad Cyke and Grey didn’t think so,” I muttered as I sat next to Kurt on the couch, he barely even acknowledged me, too captivated with the TV.

“They’re both stressed out, you know, with the whole Sinister thing and the wedding,” Rahne said almost absentmindedly while flipped through her magazine with a bored expression.

“Scott and Jean are getting married?” I wasn’t sure if the cold feeling that washed over me was from the jealousy that Scott and Jean were really in love, even though I thought my infatuation with Scott was over, or maybe it was due to the fact that yet again, Jean was getting everything that I always wanted but never could get, and I don’t mean Scott; just anybody who would love you enough to want to marry you.

“Oh yeah, they’ve been engaged for about three years, though, Jean kept putting it off but this time they’ve really started to get everything together; she’s even got her dress sorted, I’m not much of a fan of it, I preferred another one she tried, but apparently, she values Kitty’s opinion more than mine, but you know, whatever.” Jubilee ended bitterly.

“So, they’ve set a date?”

“Oh yeah, October 12th, so save the date!”

I restrained myself from making the point that I probably wouldn’t get an invite, and even if I did, I wouldn’t really want to go; hopefully, I’ll be out from here by then. Instead, I turned my attention to my fuzzy blueberry of a brother.

“Kurt, don’t suppose you want to do something? I feel like I’m gonna go crazy if I just sit and stare at a wall.”

“We can play pool?” Kurt offered, finally ungluing his eyes from the television set with a hopeful expression; I guess it wasn’t really that common for me to actively want to do something social and it must have taken him by surprise.

“Sure, just don’t raise the stakes too high; wouldn’t want to swindle you out of your comic book collection.”

I jinxed myself, that’s the only explanation that I could think of after the third game Kurt beat me at. Pool had always been my game! Mainly down to the number of hours I used to play it alone; when I was a child, Mystique used to visit this friend of hers and because they were talking business, I’d have to find something to do; it was a big house however most of the rooms were sparsely furnished, but there was a room with just a pool table, I’d play for hours, normally having to stand on a beer crate to be able to reach the table. I’d even been able to score me some food money in California by betting against drunks in grimy dive bars.

“Since I am clearly the king of the table, I deserve a reward,” Kurt proclaimed with a victorious, goofy smile.

“Unfortunately, I don’t have much to offer, would you take seven dollars?” While it may have sounded like I was joking, it was the truth, I’d spent most of my money just getting here.

Kurt pretended to consider my offer for a moment. “As tempting as that is, I’d prefer something else. I want you to do something for me.”

I visibly braced myself, expecting him to ask me to get revenge for him against Bobby for something stupid or maybe something more demeaning. “And that would be?”

“I want you to make me a promise; that you’re not just going to disappear when this is over, if you need to get away, please tell me and stay in contact,” he took a pause, but before I could respond he started again. “I’d also like you to give Mystique a chance – “

“Now hold on a moment,” I interjected, but he carried on.

“I know you don’t trust her and knowing what I know, I don’t blame you, but I’d like to think you trust me, so when I say that I believe that she has changed, that she does want to be part of our lives in a positive way, that you’ll accept it.”

There was only a couple of seconds of silence, but it felt like hours. Kurt was staring at me with pleading eyes; I sighed loudly, I really must have changed in the years I’d been away from here, because in the past his puppy eyes never worked.

“You asked for a reward, not two,”

“I won three games, so really, I still have another one to claim, but don’t worry, I think I’ve asked enough for one day, I’ll just wait for the right time for my last one. But please, Rogue, she wants us to be a proper family.”

A proper family? And what in the world is one of those? Are we gonna have dinner together and talk about our day? Go on vacation and play board games? My face must have given away my thoughts, as I saw Kurt’s shoulders slump and he lowered his gaze to the ground.

“I understand, I know – “

“I’ll try, but I can’t promise you more than that. I’ll spend time with Mystique with you, but if she thinks we’re gonna go on shopping trips and have girlie days out, then she’s got another thing coming.”

“No, no, that’s enough for me,” Kurt’s smile was like nothing I’d ever seen before, he was practically glowing. “Can I – uh – can I hug you?”

I didn’t even have to think about it, I set down the pool cue I’d been leaning on and walk around the table to him; he didn’t waste any time in enveloping me in an almost bone crushing hug.

When we parted he looked serious again. “I want you to say that you promise.”

“I already did,” I argued lightly, he just raised his eyebrow and waited. “Fine, I promise won’t disappear and I promise I’ll try to get along with Mystique as long as you’re in the same room.”

“Danke, Schwester. And now, my stomach is telling me it’s time to eat.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to pinky promise, just to solidify this agreement?”

Again, Kurt pretended to think about my offer. “No, I think I’ll trust you this time.”

I let myself smile as he bamfed off in search for food. Kurt trusting me is all well and good, but I couldn’t whole heartedly say that I could stick to my promise, mostly because I don’t believe that Mystique has changed, I wondered if she gave him the same speech she did with me and he was foolish enough to believe it.

Shaking my head, I set about setting the table back up, even though I was usually the only one considerate enough to think about the next person wanting to play. As I did, a thought popped up in my head; if I was about to accept Mystique back in my life, I should probably reconnect with Irene; I still thought of her as my mother, even though she knew what Mystique wanted from me and didn’t try to help me, she was still the one who gave me the most love and affection.

Back for only two days and already I’ve thrown myself into a tangle; it was sure to drain me, I was already fully aware of that being the case when I decided to come back here, this place had a really good way of making people face up to their problems. Makes me remember why I left in the first place.