#roger stern plays the long game

[blackleatherjacketz]

Deep Tissue

Nomad Steve Rogers x Female Reader

Summary: Steve offers to stretch you out after a fight.

Warnings: 18+ Only! Explicit Smut, Nomad Steve, Bearded Steve, Dominant Steve, Sensual Massage, Scolding, Teasing, Dry Humping, Neck Kissing, Vaginal Fingering, Hair Pulling, Finger Sucking, Body Worship

Word Count: 1.3k+

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His hand slides under your shirt near the small of your back, the roughened texture of his fingertips stirring you from your slumber as they press softly against your skin. You can just barely feel the thin cloth of your t-shirt folding in on itself, collecting around his wrist as he smooths his way up your torso, exposing it to the harsh chilly air of your bedroom. He takes his time increasing the pressure on his path as you begin to wake, kneading the muscle that connects your shoulder blade to your spine as you turn your head to face him.

“Mmm,” You hum as your eyelids flutter apart, taking in the blurry image of him behind you as his thumb presses deep into your skin. “That feels good.”

“How many times do I gotta tell you to stretch after a fight?” He adjusts his position on the bed to get closer to you, his hip flush with yours as he moves his other hand to the opposite side of your back.

“At least one more,” you mumble, the pressure he’s putting on your muscles quickly outweighed by the pleasure of release that comes directly after. “I was going to, but I fell asleep.”

“Uh huh,” he teases, biting his lower lip as his hands carefully glide over the back of your neck. He always seems to know exactly where you need him. His thumbs, palms and fingers all magically relieve the tension in your body as they glide across your flesh, sending currents of warmth deep into your neck and shoulders. “Is that why you’re so tight?” He pushes both thumbs up into your hairline as you exhale.

“We’re not all super soldiers, you know.” You let your eyelids fall shut again as he slowly makes his way back down your form, a quiet moan leaving your lips as he nears your hips.

“I would have helped if you’d come to me. Now you’re so stiff, I don’t know if I can fix it.”

He repeats the soothing motion over again, venturing up higher into your scalp with all five of his fingers before traversing all the way across your frame and down to your biceps, straining the tiny threads that hold your shirt together. He can feel your body reacting to him like it always did, the curves of your spine rolling like waves on the ocean, eager to pull him in with the tide as he navigates his palms over the roaring ache of your overworked muscles. He treads new waters each time he passes over you, testing the nerves near your tailbone and hips as they push back against him, begging for more.

“Steve,” you whine, lifting your pelvis as he barely glides his thumbs beneath the hem of your underwear. “Please.” You turn your head just far back enough to make eye contact, locking onto those crystal blues to make sure he sees how serious you are.

“Please, what?” That tiny change of tone in his voice tells you all you need to know about where he’s headed, his soft bedroom whisper now painted with a stern hunter green tambre. He holds your gaze as he increases his pressure in the middle of your glutes, smirking only as your lips turn down in frustration, his hands finding their way up your spine once more.

He knows how to drive you completely crazy, to touch you just enough around each area to get you primed and ready for contact before pulling away and focusing on something else. It was a game the two of you started playing with each other months ago, seeing how long you could last before you broke down and begged for him to touch you where it counts. You could never quite predict when his darker side was going to come out, though; when his teases would turn into taunts, his kisses into bites and his requests into demands. It was cruel yet delicious, the shift seeming to come faster every time the two of you were together, his reserved front falling by the wayside as he took on a slightly more… authoritative role with you behind closed doors.

“Please, I,” you stammer, trying your best not to let the growing moisture between your legs distract you from forming a coherent thought as you keen against his palms. “I umm…”

The mattress creaks beneath him as he moves his hand to your neck, shifting his weight to lean forward with a brisk tug of your hair. “Are you going to ask me for what you want?” He tugs even harder, whispering his question into your ear. “Huh?”

There it is.

Instead of waiting for you to respond, he lifts his leg up to straddle your thighs, a quiet grunt leaving his lips as he exhales.

“Yeah,” you manage to mumble. Your heart pounds in your chest as his hips settle in just below your center, his tight grip in your hair relenting for a split second as he adjusts his point of gravity to his knees. You can smell the remnants of his cologne as the natural scent of his body overpowers it, turning you on even more as he nestles his chin into the nape of your neck.

“I’m waiting.”

FUCK.

“I want you to help stretch me out,” you finally confess, groaning as he pulls on your hair even tighter. “Please,” you add, practically begging. “Please stretch me out, Steve.”

“Yeah? That wasn’t so hard, was it?” He kisses that patch of skin between your ear and hairline, his beard brushing against it as his lips peck down the back of your neck, sending a rush of warmth into your core. “I can do that.”

You gasp as he grinds his hips into your thighs, deepening his kisses the further down he goes until he reaches the collar of your shirt. You can already feel him begin to grow beneath the cloth of his pants as he releases his fist from your hair, finally moving his hands in the direction you’ve been wanting them to go.

You whine in protest as he pulls his mouth off of you, giving himself enough room to take you in as he tugs the delicate cloth of your underwear down just above your thighs. It seems to last forever as he smooths his palms over your freshly exposed skin, sending goosebumps prickling over your cheeks before spreading them apart with his thumbs to get a better view. Your mouth falls open as you feel him slide his fingers down between your cheeks, dipping his index and middle fingers between your folds to collect your arousal.

“You feel that?” He spreads your moisture up and down your length, increasing his pressure every time he glides over your clit before deliberately rubbing his fingertips over it. “You’re already wet.” He leans forward again to make sure that you hear him, sliding those fingers of his deep inside your walls as you clench down around his hand, refusing to let go.

“Am I?” You can barely speak as he feels you from the inside, nearly drawing out all the air from your lungs as he goes deeper into your sex, stretching you out as promised, practically pushing you to the edge.

He guides his digits into you, slowly massaging your internal muscles with unmatched skill until he carefully pulls them out, smearing some of your juices onto your inner thigh. He brushes over your bud again, taking great care to send waves of bliss up into your belly, dozens of them building on top of the next with each stroke until they finally crest over in a torrential tidal wave of ecstasy. You can’t help but cry out as his ministrations sweep you away with the undertow, wreaking havoc on every nerve and muscle in your body as it begins to quake in the all-encompassing current of sheer euphoria.

“Shhh, you’ll wake the neighbors,” he chides, still running his fingers over your delicate flesh as you rattle and hum beneath him, toes curling behind you with each new point of contact he still purposefully makes. “Now,” he smiles coyly, bringing his sopping wet fingers up to his mouth for a taste. “Let’s really stretch you out.”

[zaptap]

i just reached 1990s spider-man comics. almost halfway there in terms of years, definitely not in terms of comics though (i guess there were a TON in the 90s, and the 60s was pretty much just amazing spider-man which meant it had the fewest)

i'd heard before starting the 80s ones that that was widely considered the best decade for spider-man comics, and it certainly lived up to it. roger stern's run was really good, hobgoblin was a pretty interesting villain up until they screwed up at the end after 4 years because the people making the comics all had different opinions on who should be under the mask and were even sabotaging each other (instead of just using the guy who was originally supposed to be him. which i guess got fixed via retcon in the late 90s)

secret wars was pretty good (only because the heroes and villains involved largely weren't that interested in playing the beyonder's game, and dr doom derailing the whole thing made it interesting)

and secret wars ii asked the question of "hey wouldn't it be fucked up if there was a guy who had unlimited power to do anything and he just wanted to try to figure out what his place was in a universe he could fundamentally change with a whim" and yeah it was fucked up. and that's what made this one interesting

also we finally have people who know spider-man is peter parker and don't either die or lose their memory soon afterward, which was the case for like 20 years. mary jane comes back after being completely absent from the comics for a couple years or so, and reveals she'd known peter was spider man "for years" (later revealed to be since the night uncle ben died, which was long before they'd even met) and then peter has someone to talk to about spider stuff

anyway. 90s had a lot going on. i guess there's more symbiote stuff (venom was introduced in 1988, carnage should probably be on his way soon), and then there's infinity gauntlet/war/crusade which if anything should be better than what the mcu did with them

and then there's the infamous clone saga which apparently lasted about 2 years, and with 4 ongoing monthly series ("spider-man" starts in 1990) that'd mean about 100 comics? yeah no wonder people got tired of that. i'll see how it goes though

also i'm reading about other spider-people too (keeping an eye on appearances of jessica drew and julia carpenter, the two spider-women so far, as well as reading spider-ham on the side--a few more 5-page stories and he's gone until like 2010) so i'll be starting 2099 after i get into 1992

tbh even if the 90s and newer comics arent as good, the fact that i'll be reading stuff from within my lifetime should probably do something for my enjoyment of them. like yeah the 80s ones were great but it still had that "this was before my time" quality to it you know

[dojimakojima]

One of the most frustrating things in this world, is telling someone about a thing you like and care about, only for them to not even pretend to care a little bit.

My mother does this sometimes. I try to think ahead of all my conversations, if I tell someone about a game/youtuber I'm really fixated on, I try to think ahead and make a "list of points" to go over if I end up talking about it. Really, I'm trying to make the conversation as interesting as possible for the other person, its selfish, because if I do a good enough job, then maybe they'll check it out too, and I'll have someone to talk about it with.

Me and my friends have similar tastes in media, so talking to them about something, even if they aren't interested in it directly, they're interested in me, and in the things I'm passionate about and are willing to listen. I try to keep my tangents short and organized, so they aren't stuck talking about it forever. So it feels good. I used to be way worse, to be clear, and I wouldn't be able to stop talking about one thing for weeks, but now I'm able to control it better.

I try bringing up something I like to my mother and often she just... rolls right past me. If I don't get an abrupt subject change out of disinterest from her, I'll probably get a "just get to the point". It's really frustrating because I try coming up with ways I can share the things I like, in the most abstractified, short (<2mins), interesting way possible and she doesn't bother reaching out to try and listen. I even preface them with "Can I tell you about something I like/game I've been playing/show I've been watching", and she often just says "No, I'm tired" in a stern tone. There's never a time when she isn't tired.

On the other hand, multiple times I've gone to get water/food from my kitchen and have run into my mother in the middle of watching one of her reality dating shows (Usually Single's Inferno, or Love Is Blind). Often, she pauses and unprompted, tells me about what's going on. I try to follow along the best I can and ask questions to show I'm interested. Even on harder days where I can't pay attention as well, I ask more basic questions to try and show her I'm interested, as she describes a season's worth of TV. Often she goes on for 30+ minutes. Eventually I have to say "I have people waiting for me/I have work/I can't talk right now" but I try to hear her out for as long as possible because I am trying to be interested. Sometimes, I'll ask her for updates because she lights up when she talks about her favorite shows. But she can't seem to extend the courtesy of even listening to the things I like.

And its sort of frustrating because I feel so passionate about something, and she doesn't seem to even want to be aware of the things I'm thinking about all day. One time I said two and half sentences describing a game I liked "I've been playing this very interesting game recently called The 25th ward. You follow three storylines. All about people trying to solve a mysterious murder that happens at the beginning of the story, detectives, hitmen and a journali-". Halfway through the word "Journalist", she asked me if I had any work I needed to do in an annoyed tone.

Edit: Because of moments like this, I only end up actually talking about the things I like and am obsessed with, very rarely with my mother. My friends know I've spent the majority of the year consummed by ActionButton/Tim Rogers' videos and essays, and I talk about him all of the time with my friends. I converted one friend into a semi-fan, who watched the Boku video with me, and the other friend doesn't like his style, but is patient with me. I've only brought him up like three times to my mother, one of which was because I ordered a shirt from him that was coming in the mail. Because the one time I watched a video in the same room as her, she called him annoying, and when I told her about his hyperthymesia, she said, "I think he's a liar, he's definitely lying about that." In that "100% positive, you'd have to be really stupid to believe that" tone, only my mother could do. It just made me feel so small. Even if that were the case, she couldn't even pretend to care, or just listen?

[charmed-asylum]

I love Steve I can’t even explain how much so right now hahaha. Like nope I love it I do. And reader heheh so so much but I love it never change never change

“ Steve points at a picture of Bucky on the investigation wall he made for you. “That’s our target.”

You grin and lean back in your chair. “Please continue, Obi-Wan Rogers.”

He gives you a stern look. “Miss, if you don’t take my classes seriously, you can go home and watch a rom-com.” and then he had something for Bucky to he playing the long game rn lol love it. He probably been doing this since middle school. Love this story so much can’t wait to see what next

Shy Guy (5) - Present

Summary: You grew up together. Bucky is the one. He’s just too shy to make a move.

Pairing: Shy!Bucky Barnes x Fratgirl!Reader

Sidepairing (friendship): Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings: teasing, banter, friendship, fluff, making out, cocky reader, virgin Bucky, shy Bucky, mentions of Steve's sex life

Inspired by this ask: Shy guy ask and@dawn-petrichor-world​ made me do it…

Shy guy (4) - Past & Present

Shy guy masterlist

“Hmm…what else do I need to know, Stevie?” You eagerly take notes while Steve explains the complexity of asking a guy out without making him look like a loser. “I don’t want Bucky to believe he’s a loser.”

“Bucky is not a loser, but shy. He never kissed another girl,” Steve points at a picture of Bucky on the investigation wall he made for you. “That’s our target.”

You grin and lean back in your chair. “Please continue, Obi-Wan Rogers.”

He gives you a stern look. “Miss, if you don’t take my classes seriously, you can go home and watch a rom-com.”

“I’m listening,” you groan. “Go ahead. I need to know how to make a move on Bucky without scaring him off.”

“Alright,” Steve uses a pointer stick to point at the next picture. “That’s our goal. We want him to be putty in your hands but get hard at the same time.”

You lean forward to look at the picture. “Dude! Is that a dick pick?”

Steve snickers. “I googled Bucky’s name, and this was the first picture coming up.”

“You’re lying!” You stick your tongue out. “You can’t pin a dick on our investigation wall, Steve!”

“Why?” He shrugs your concern off and points to the next picture. “Before we get to the dick, we need to make him loosen up and ask you out. Or accept your invitation.”

“That’s a dog playing with a bone,” you wrinkle your nose. “Is that a metaphor or something?”

“Yeah,” Steve nods. “You’re like a dog with a bone. You sank your teeth into Bucky and won’t let up.”

“I’m not a dog, Rogers,” you snap at your friend. “I wanted you to give me advice, not turn this into a joke.”

“I’m not joking about love and dick,” Steve chuckles but keeps a straight face. “If you want him to dick you down one day, you’ll need to win his trust and heart first.”

“Good, that’s a start,” you take notes while Steve tells you about all the things Bucky likes. “Hmm…that’s good. Tell me more about his eating habits and the lingerie he looked up in his search history.”

“Our boy grew up so fast,” Steve sighs and gives you a wink. “You should see his search history. He’s an eager beaver when it comes to eating pussy and fingering a girl.”

“Oh,” you nod, and focus on taking notes, not the image in your mind. Bucky between your thighs, eating your cunt. “I like me a man who can eat pussy.”

Steve laughs. “Well, in that case, Bucky is your man. I watched him practice while watching porn. He’s got a skilled tongue.”

“That’s good to know, I guess.”

“Next step, we need to talk about his erogenous zones. You need to know how to touch him,” Steve continues. He points at his neck with the pointer stick. “Neck.”

“Neck,” you hum.

“Nipples. Earlobe. Lips,” he moves to his crotch. “At last, the divine meat stick.” He grins. “The dick.”

You giggle and snort. “Meat stick, got it.”

“Y/N,” Steve’s features soften when you look at him. “You need to make a move but don’t be too pushy. Bucky will shy away from you if you are too pushy.”

“Christ, I won’t shove his pants down to suck his dick,” you grunt. “Now back to the basics. Do you have an idea for the perfect first date?”

“Alright, miss,” Steve turns back around to point at the investigation wall. “We have a lot to discuss.”

“Doll, you’ve got this,” Steve whispers as he guides you toward the frat house. “He’s over there, looking for you because he wants to borrow a book. You look stunning. This outfit shows the right amount of cleavage and ass. But it’s not slutty.”

“Okay,” you take a deep breath. “I’ve got this. Bucky Barnes will be putty in my hands.”

Steve slaps your ass, making you squeal. “Go and get him tiger.” 

Bucky is smart.

Like really smart.

He speaks over five different languages.

Still, he doesn't know how to talk to a girl.

It's not that he's not attractive. Girls do look at him. He's just too nervous to hit on a girl he likes.

It feels like his voice fails anytime he tries to talk to one of the girls from the frat house across the street.

Especially when he sees you.

It's even worse that you are friends with his best friend.

Steve Rogers. Quarterback. Golden boy. A girls' magnet.

“Hey Barnes," you quip as Bucky zoned out again. "Whatcha looking at?"

“What?" he slowly dips his head to glance at you standing next to him.

When did that happen?

“I was just...”

"Steve won't come back for a while. I think this week it's Carrie or was it Chanel?" you huff. "I'm telling you; he tries to break a record or something. I’m worried about his health. What if he breaks his dick? He won’t be able to win the upcoming game with a cast around his dick.”

Bucky chokes on his spit.

You giggle.

“Uh—what do you want here if Steve is not around?” He gets out before dropping his eyes to his shoes. 

“Hmm…On Friday night we will go out. Wear something nice,” you cock your head to look Bucky up and down. “Oh, and no hair gel. I like running my fingers through a guy’s hair when we make out.”

“What?” he swallows thickly. His cheeks turn pink, and he feels his heart start racing. “Y/N…I…what? Is this a joke?”

“You know how to get a girl’s attention,” you lean closer to peck his lips. “I hope you know I expect you to put that talented tongue to better use…”

Bucky gasps as you pounce on him to claim his lips. You slip your tongue inside, snaking it with his as you run your fingers through his soft curls.

“Barnes! GOOO! Barnes!” the frat boys chant behind Bucky’s back. “We knew you had it in you all this time. He will finally get laid!”

You grin against his lips.

“Aw, I always had a thing for virgins,” you coo. “I promise to be gentle, babe…”

“What just happened?” Bucky looks like a confused puppy. He runs his tongue over his lips to taste you again. “Y/N, why did you…I…what?”

“Bucky,” you place your hands on his chest and look him straight in the eyes. “I call dips on you.” You smirk. “We are friends since childhood, and I don’t want you to get laid by some other bitch. You’re mine.”

“Get laid,” he chokes out. “Oh,” his cheeks turn pink, and he chuckles nervously. 

“Do you want to go on a date with me, Buck?” you run your index finger over his chest. “I know you don’t see anyone else.”

“Yeah,” Bucky stutters. “We can watch a movie or order food.”

“Buck,” you lean closer to brush your lips over his quivering ones. “I will cook, and you can decide on the dessert.” You grin. “I heard you have a very talented tongue and are burning to put it to good use.”

He blanched, and chuckles nervously. “It’s a date…”

“It’s a date,” you say and fist his jacket to claim his lips again. “See you on Friday, Bucky baby.”

“STEVE! STEVE!” Bucky stumbles inside their shared room. “STEVE! She asked me out and…what do I do now?”

“Alright,” Steve wraps his arm around Bucky’s shoulder to guide him toward the investigation wall. Steve changed the pictures to help his friend. “I have been waiting for you, Padawan. I will tell you everything about Y/N, women, and pussy…”

Tags in reblog.

[superman86to99]

Action Comics #692 (October 1993)

In this issue: Superman goes to the doctor and finds out why he's not dead anymore! But, before that, he's clearing some of the debris left by his fight with Doomsday when he finds... Clark Kent? Lois Lane is very happy to see Clark again, but Superman himself doesn't look very thrilled in these panels.

Turns out Clark wasn't dead as everyone believed, he was simply trapped in the basement of a collapsed building! The basement happened to equipped with plenty of food and gym equipment (explaining why he's still jacked, like Superman), but unfortunately not a single pair of scissors (explaining why his hair is now long, like Superman's).

Later, Superman bumps into Lex Luthor Jr., who demands to know where Supergirl is, but Superman gives him the runaround. Hmm, where could Superman's good friend who can change shape and pretend to be other people be? Anyway, Superman then meets Lois and Clark and... holy crap! Mild-mannered reporter Clark Kent is secretly Supergirl!

So yeah, Supergirl pretended to be Clark for a while just so he and Superman would be seen together and no one would question why both are suddenly alive again. Then Supergirl leaves and we move on to the second dilemma solved in this issue: How the hell is Superman alive again? To address that question, supernatural DC character (and fellow Jerry Siegel/Joe Shuster creation) Doctor Occult appears out of nowhere and rudely teleports Lois and Clark to a black void, where he replays moments from Superman's life... and death.

Occult explains that Doomsday DID punch Superman's spirit out of his body, but there was still solar energy keeping the body just barely alive. Superman's ghost ended up stuck between the living and the dead, attracting some nasty soul-eating demons. Fortunately, Pa Kent happened to be dying of a heart attack at the same time, so he and Superman teamed up to fight off the demons (as seen in Adventures #500). Superman’s soul returned to his near-corpse, which was taken to the Fortress of Solitude by the Eradicator and lovingly nursed back into health. (Okay, more like “coldly,” but you can’t argue with the results.)

Anyway, the point is that Superman's resurrection happened due to a convoluted series of events that could never be repeated, unless someone's willing to sneak behind Pa Kent and blow an airhorn in his ear or something. As the mystical exposition dump ends, Occult teleports Lois and Clark to Smallville, and the issue ends with the Kents finally reuniting. A tender moment...

...until two seconds later, when Ma smacks Clark in the back of the head for taking two whole issues to come see them (or that’s what I’d do).

Plotline-Watch:

Doctor Occult reveals that the moment when Bibbo shocked Superman’s body with a hyper-charged defibrillator in Adventures #498 actually helped keep him alive. Once again, Bibbo is the real hero of this saga.

Supergirl has a lot of experience posing as Clark, since she was stuck in that form between 1989 and 1992. That was also her in the only other photo of Superman and Clark together, taken in Superman #34.

While Superman is being interviewed by a news crew after rescuing "Clark", that lawyer from Action #689 barges in and demands that they stop calling Superman Superman, since that name is now trademarked by Superboy's manager. Damn, maybe he's gonna have to start calling himself "Supreme" or something?

Aww, Lex is happy to see Superman again. Sure, it's only because he wants to be the one to kill him, but still.

S.T.A.R. Labs is examining the Eradicator's corpse when they realize he's alive! Sort of. Later, Doctor Occult remarks that the Eradicator sacrificed himself "in mind, if not in body". Hmm. The doctors overseeing his condition are Kitty Faulkner, who can turn into an orange She-Hulk called Rampage after a workplace mishap, and a new character called David Connors, the only S.T.A.R. employee without superpowers. So far.

The JLA returns from the little space vacation the Cyborg sent them on, and we get the first instance in all of comics of Guy Gardner admitting he was wrong. Character growth! Don Sparrow says: “Nice to see some follow-up to the characters around the DCU and how they react to Superman’s return. No mention of the fact that they got suckered into a mission into space that went nowhere.”

When Doctor Occult shows up, Superman is like "aw, not this guy again!", referencing that classic tale of Superman's first encounter with the supernatural... which hasn't come out yet. Don: “It’s a neat forward call-back (is that a thing?) when Superman references his first encounter with Doctor Occult, given that we won’t see it happen until 1995, when DC does a line-wide ‘Year One’ series of stories. And wouldn’t you know it, that story is written by none other than Roger Stern (and even involves tentacles, as in the thumbnail image)!” #rogersternplaysthelonggame

Don Sparrow's section, on the other hand, can be read NOW, after the jump!

Art-Watch (by @donsparrow​):

We open with the cover, and it’s one of the top ten best of this era, for sure.  Drawn by Kerry Gammill and Butch Guice, DC used this drawing on the “Return of Superman” cards.  I tend to favour simpler, iconic covers, even when they don’t necessarily represent the story within, but in this case, it’s showing exactly what the heart of the story is about: Clark Kent is back. 

Inside, we open with a full page splash of Superman’s shield, through tons of rubble, and it’s a great image, but without the face, it allows us to focus on the title of the story, a callback to the speech introduction of the old Fleischer Cartoons.

I don’t know if it’s from the writing, or the artist, but Action Comics has always seemed the most romantic of the Super-titles, and this one is no exception, as Clark and Lois have their hands all over each other for basically the whole comic. While it is a bit weird to remember that it isn’t Clark that Lois is caressing (more on that in a bit) in the early part of the story, it always feels intimate and romantic more than it feels graphic or titillating.  A tricky balance that this team pulls off well, particularly in their “reunion” on page 3. [Max: Every time I read this issue I think it’s Martian Manhunter posing as Clark and when they start flirting I’m like “ew”. Then I remember who it is and I’m like “nice”.]

I always enjoy seeing Superman flying upside-down, which I consider to be a Byrne innovation—I don’t remember him doing it pre-Crisis. It always seems so joyful and carefree, and it’s nice to see Superman savouring his powers. 

Jackson Guice uses tone very well in the scenes with Lex Luthor II in his aviators, and I quite like the sense of motion to Superman’s pose as he approaches the helicopter—almost like he’s swimming in the sky rather than floating.

It’s a good drawing of the Eradicator getting the post-Hoth Luke Skywalker treatment, with David Connor and Kitty Faulkner getting an eyeful.  My copy has a slight colouring error that makes it look like the Eradicator is awake in the tank, even though he’s supposed to be catatonic. [Max: Still looks like that in the collections. Maybe he’s one of those people who sleep with their eyes open?]

Superman embracing Lois after the ruse of “Clark Kent” is very cutely drawn, as is the Ghost-like backward embrace on the following page.  

The entire sequence replaying Superman’s death and rebirth is drawn well throughout, especially the dreamlike staging, and the darkness as Lois knocks the flashlight away.  It’s also moving that Superman can see the heroic lengths that Bibbo went to try to save him once Superman succumbed to his injuries.  

Lastly, it was wonderful to see Clark reunited physically with Ma and Pa, especially with the nice touch of the poem by DH Lawrence as the only narration.  Stern was always the best at referencing secondary texts in his stories, and it’s well used here.

STRAY OBSERVATIONS:

Is it me, or is Matrix/Supergirl a little too into this Clark Kent act?  I get that making their performances light and funny keep it from seemingly overtly dishonest, but “Clark” is pretty tender in these scenes. Lois does a good job of playing along, but it’s hard for me to fully forget that all this canoodling is actually with Supergirl.  So as a helpful tool, I created these graphics: [Max: Nice.]

It was cool that Lois specifically mentioned that Jimmy got a shot of the returned Clark Kent next to Superman, I always like it when that can happen.

In previous posts, I’ve talked about how creepy it is that Luthor has a sexual relationship with Supergirl/Matrix, when she is in so many ways (mainly mentally) a child, and I can’t help but read the scene where Lois chooses Superman over “Clark” this way.  The laughing and clapping has a whole different feel if you think of her as mentally diminished somewhat.  

So it’s not exactly a continuity error that Clark says on page 13 that he has to call Ma and Pa to let them know that “Clark” is alright (even though he already called them in a previous issue).  It could be that they want to tell the Kents the cover story of Clark’s return has now taken place, and they can act like their son is alive again when they go to the corner store, etc. [Max: Yeah, that’s how I took it. It would be awkward if their neighbors saw them all cheerful while their son is still “dead”.]

 I like to imagine that Dr. Occult looks and sounds like Robert Stack. [Max: It’s impossible for me to hear him as anyone other than Humphrey Bogart after Lois calls him “Sam Spade”.]

We’ve mentioned previously Jackson Guice’s tendency to use photo reference for his characters.  In this issue, Superman looks a lot like Jason Patric to me, who would have made a pretty great Superman had there been movies being made in this time.

I also appreciated this issue explaining both the physical and metaphysical reasons Superman was able to return—and that there’s no back door to the story—if Superman ever died again, he would be unable to return.  

[buckybarnesowl]

If I Only Had a Heart - Part I of II

Pairing: Bucky x f!Reader

Summary: Team Cap is back at the compound after being pardoned. Bucky is suffering from the shoddy work HYDRA did with his prosthetic. Tony brings reader in to fix it—and maybe help him find his heart in the process.

Word count: 3.5K

Warnings: 18+ reference to trauma, smut (four play, consensual unprotected sex), prosthetic arm kink. Part 1 is angst and fluff only. Part 2 is smut. Minors DNI.

A/n: My first challenge! Congratulations on the 2K @thefanbasewhore! The timeline is canon-divergent, post-Civil War. No Infinity War or End Game here. Tony didn’t destroy Bucky’s arm, so it’s still the original silver cybernetic prosthetic from HYDRA. I altered the love at first sight trope since I couldn’t work in the soulmate AU. Part two will use prompt 25. “Let me help you.”

Part II

“I don’t need this,” Bucky grumbled as he and Steve walked into the elevator.

“Tony’s workshop, please, F.R.I.D.A.Y. And yes you do, Buck.”

“Of course, Captain Rogers. Mr. Stark is expecting you,” the Irish lilt of the A.I. confirmed.

“No I don’t,” Bucky repeated. “I’m fine. It’s fine. No one needs to waste any—”

“Now, I’m going to stop you right there,” Steve stated, turning to his friend with a stern face. “Alleviating your pain is not a waste. You don’t deserve it, Buck. You’ve suffered enough for ten lifetimes over. Tony says Y/N is the best he knows. He really thinks she can fix it,” pausing briefly before adding, “He’s trying, Buck. He wants to forgive y— him. Let him try.”

An audible sigh left Bucky’s lips followed by the dropping of shoulders. He closed his eyes to break his friend’s piercing gaze, running his flesh hand through his long chestnut hair. Steve knew to interpret that as conceit and he squeezed Bucky’s right shoulder—though releasing the hold seconds later as he noted the slight flinch. Even after three months of rehabilitation and living in the compound, Bucky still shied from touch. Even with Steve.

Before either of them could acknowledge Bucky’s discomfort, the elevator doors opened to Tony’s personal lab.

“Boss and Ms Y/L/N are in the test lab. Please follow DUM-E.”

Steve grinned at the awkward robot as it whirred away from them. Bucky emitted a stoic stare and followed begrudgingly. Eighties classic rock was blasting through the speakers of the concrete workshop. Though it was replaced by ambient piano music once the two super soldiers passed through the second set of glass doors.

The white, sterile room was spacious and full of the tech one would expect in a personal lab of Tony Stark. Stainless steel tables, shelves housing tools and equipment, holographic screens displaying graphs and schematics of projects at various phases.

Modern technology was still so overwhelming for Bucky. The last memory he had about anything science or engineering related prior to HYDRA was the Stark Expo the night before he shipped off to war. Before getting captured. Then rescued by Steve. Then captured again. Then rescued by Steve. Again.

Bucky felt his chest tightening at the site of the lab. At the thought of everything he’d missed. Everything that HYDRA took from him. Everything that he had done—

“There they are!” Tony’s voice rang out, breaking Bucky’s thought spiral. “Capsicle and the Manchurian Candidate in the flesh. We almost thought you wouldn’t show. Steve, Bucky, meet Y/N Y/L/N. Y/N this is Steve and Bucky.”

“Captain Rogers, Sergeant Barnes, it’s an honour to meet you both,” Y/N said with sincerity, a star-struck twinkle in her eyes for the two war heroes that stood before her. Wiping her palms on her lab coat, she extended her hand to Steve and Bucky.

“Please, call me Steve,” the Avenger said kindly as he shook Y/N’s hand first. “Tony sung high praise of your work. It’s not often he’ll admit defeat, so I was surprised when he told me he’d brought in help for ol’ Buck here.”

Bucky grunted, but extended his flesh hand to Y/N’s. He may be an ex-assassin, but he’d recovered the manners his ma had instilled in him all those decades ago—James Buchanan Barnes would never leave a beautiful woman hanging. And boy, was Y/N beautiful.

“Just Bucky is fine. ‘S nice to meet you too, Y/N,” he forced out, attempting to coax a smile from his tight lips.

“Ok, now that’s out of the way, let’s get to fixing that arm,” Tony pressed.

“I don’t think it’s nec—” but Bucky’s quiet mumbling was immediately cut off by Y/N’s oblivious enthusiasm.

“I’m so excited to show you the plans! If you look at the the mock-up Mr. Stark had originally—”

“Y/N, it’s Tony. You and Peter are going to be the death of me,” the billionaire groaned with a smile.

“Right, sorry, Tony,” Y/N corrected herself as heat flooded her cheeks. “So as I was saying, if you see these points here on Tony’s mock-up, the problem was with the electronic communication between the artificial nervous system and the contact fusing at your shoulder…”

Maybe it was the soothing piano music still playing. Maybe it was the softness in her voice, blanketing the sounds of the lab’s tech like snow muffles the sounds of a city. Maybe it was the warmth of her eyes, like the light at dusk casting everything in a golden shroud. Whatever the reason, Bucky found all the tension easing from his body as Y/N walked them through Tony’s roadblocks and how she removed them.

“...so I think if we just make some adjustments to the automation and how it synchs to the neural networks here, here, and here, that should eliminate the shocks at the connection plates and in turn prevent further nerve pain.”

“I told you she was the best I got. So what do you think, Barnes?” Tony asked proudly.

Then everyone turned to the former Winter Soldier with bated breath.

“O-, o-kay. I’ll try it,” Bucky replied quietly, surprising himself by the speed at which he succumbed to her proposal.

“Yeah? Really?” Y/N’s eyebrows raised in shock, joined by Tony and Steve’s.

The two Avengers had warned her that Bucky would likely resist her efforts. Steve in particular had explained the delicacy of the situation, with only enough detail to not throw Y/N in blind. But she had already read about Bucky’s past well before Steve and Tony approached her. She could fill in the blanks.

Sergeant Barnes was her first crush after learning about him and the Howling Commandos in History class during junior high. Decades later, she felt nothing but compassion for the unimaginable suffering he had been put through when she'd read the documents Natasha Romanoff had released to the government. Then after learning he was in constant physical pain on top of it all and there might be a way she could fix it? Well, it became her personal goal and mission to solve what Tony insisted he couldn’t.

Y/N was the daughter of an old fling-turned-friend of Tony’s from his MIT days. Decades later Tony met Y/N at her mother’s funeral and offered her a job in Stark Industries’s R&D department on the spot. “If you’re half as brilliant as your mother was, you’ll be running the labs within a year,” he’d stated confidently. It took six months of Tony having Pepper send flowers attached to job offers for Y/N to finally accept. It took just three months more before Tony started bringing Y/N up to his personal workshop whenever he was stuck on something.

Around that time Steve had come to Tony asking for help with fixing Bucky’s arm—he’d finished his rehabilitation and been mentally cleared by S.H.I.E.L.D.’s medical team. Steve had hoped it might also ease the tension between the two men following what the media had dubbed a “civil war” amongst the Avengers. Maybe Bucky could learn that deep down Tony just wanted to protect his team, and Tony could learn that the Winter Soldier and James Buchanan Barnes were not the same person.

Much to Steve’s surprise, Tony had agreed to help. Though he called Y/N in on the project after only a few days. Whether he’d actually hit a block or it was just too soon, he’d never say. But it didn’t matter because Y/N had solved the issues a week later.

Now standing in front of the super soldier after explaining her plan, Y/N couldn’t believe how easy it had been to convince him. “Well, okay then! We can get started right now if you like, or—”

“No, I’m here now. Let’s get it over with.”

“You sure, pal? You can take some time to think about it. Ask questions,” Steve suggested.

“Yeah, I’m sure. She sounds like she knows what she’s talking about. If you trust her, and Tony trusts her, then I trust her.”

The two avengers and Y/N all shared a look with each other at Bucky’s unexpected reasoning.

“That’s more words than I’ve heard you string together in the past three months, Tin Man. Y/N, you’re magic! Maybe I should start calling you Glinda the Good Witch of the North with the miracles you’re delivering here.” Y/N just grinned as Tony patted her on the back.

“If I’m Glinda, then you’re the Wizard.”

“I’ll save that role for Strange, thank you very much.” Then he turned to Bucky, and a softness flooded his tone, “I really hope this works for you.”

The usually snarky engineer was offering the ex-assassin a genuine smile and Bucky could feel it.

“Thanks, Tony. Really,” Bucky replied, hoping to convey his own sincerity to the man who didn’t have to forgive him for the pain his alter-ego had caused, yet was attempting to regardless.

“Thank you, Tony,” Steve echoed his friend’s sentiments.

“Just looking out for my team. You’re in good hands with Y/N. She’ll have you fixed up in no time, Bucko. Cap, I’ll see you later,” he said, saluting Steve in jest as he exited the lab.

“So, Sergeant—sorry, I mean Bucky. I’ll need you up on this table right here. Are you able to remove the prosthetic? Most of the rewiring and reprogramming will have to be done in isolation.”

Bucky simply nodded. In a quick motion he pulled his shirt half off and detached the silver appendage from his shoulder, allowing a sigh of relief to escape before a faint blush surfaced on his cheeks. “Where should I put it?”

“Oh, right beside you on that platform is perfect. The sensors will read everything from there,” Y/N replied.

Steve blinked at his friend in awe. In the three months since arriving at the compound he’d never seen Bucky so calm and relaxed with a stranger. Let alone comfortable enough to remove half his shirt and his arm in front of them. Heck, not even Steve had been granted that level of intimacy. Suddenly, he felt like a third wheel and he shot a sly grin at his old friend.

“Want me to stay with you, pal?” he asked under his breath, nodding suggestively in Y/N’s direction.

“Up to you,” he replied, rolling his eyes at Steve’s insinuation. “I’m good, though. I’ll be fine.”

“Tony’s still in his workshop, and he’s programmed F.R.I.D.A.Y. to notify both of you if any of Bucky’s vitals spike while I’m working with him,” Y/N assured the captain, without looking away from the holographic screen. She was clearly oblivious to the silent conversation the two men were having.

The faint rose lingering on Bucky’s cheeks turned a burning crimson that extended towards his neck. Steve chuckled at his friend’s embarrassment.

“Alright then. I guess I’ll leave you to it. Thanks again, Y/N. We really appreciate everything you’re doing. I hope I’ll see you again soon.”

“It’s my pleasure, Capt— Steve,” she smiled sheepishly, before going back to her 3-D projection of Bucky’s cybernetic arm in front of her. She was clearly in her element and eager to continue working.

“Buck, call me if you need anything. Got it?”

“Got it,” he replied, assuring his friend.

Bucky exhaled long and slow through his nose as he heard the woosh of the glass doors sliding shut. He still struggled with how Steve had immediately absolved him of everything he had done. The agony. The destruction. The death. All at his hands. Steve took every opportunity to remind Bucky that the Winter Soldier wasn’t him. That it was HYDRA who was responsible for it all. That the unadulterated violence wasn’t his fault.

Yet it was Bucky’s own hands he saw when he fell victim to the terrors of sleep each night. Pulling the trigger. Gripping the blade. Silver fingers glinting as they clenched around throats. Twisted necks. Snapped limbs as if they were brittle twigs underfoot.

“You okay?” Y/N asked, her eyes raising to meet his infinite blue irises shrouded behind the dark waves falling around his face.

“Oh yeah, fine. A bit nervous about it all, I guess,” Bucky half-admitted as he brushed his hair out of his face. Her soothing voice calmed his breathing and halted the memories from flooding his vision.

“That’s understandable. Would it help to watch? I don’t mind. I’m about to start on the wiring.”

Bucky considered Y/N’s offer then obliged, hopping off the table to join her on the other end.

It was an odd experience to see his arm disconnected and disassembled. He loathed that part of himself. A constant reminder of his crimes against humanity. And yet watching Y/N tinker with it so delicately—altering it, fixing it—lit the tiniest spark of hope within.

As if hearing the gears turning in his mind she spoke without looking away from her work. “Is this hard to witness?”

Bucky thought about it, caught off guard by her sensitivity to the situation.

“Not hard, no. Weird maybe? But also cathartic,” he explained.

“Huh, how so?” She questioned without a thought as she gently coaxed a blue wire out from the prosthetic’s wrist with a pair of pliers.

“Hmmmmm,” Bucky rubbed the back of his neck as he calculated how to answer. He didn’t know why he was so keen on sharing with this woman he had just met, but he was going with it. “That arm symbolizes what they turned me into. What they made me do. I guess when you’ve spent more than half of your life being a monster it’s healing to watch someone change it. Make it something different.”

“You’re not a monster, James. You’re human.”

“If I only had a heart, right?” he tapped on his chest in jest. Y/N set her tool down and turned to face him, looking him deeply in the eye.

“Don’t do that. You’re not actually the Tin Man. You’re Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes of the 107th regiment. You were held captive, tested on against your will, then tortured and brainwashed by an underground Nazi faction. Then despite all odds, you survived. And now you’re attempting to make amends for atrocities that are not even remotely close to being your fault. You’re not a monster, and you never were. You’re a hero. And you deserve every act of appreciation and kindness. Every gesture of tenderness and love. You deserve to live, James. You deserve life.”

The crimson that had left Bucky’s face took up residence again, his temporary lapse in silence coming to an end. Steve had tried to convince him of his worthiness countless times over. But somehow it was different coming from Y/N. She was an impartial stranger. She didn’t have any obligation to Bucky. She didn’t owe him anything. Which meant these were her honest thoughts. It stirred a flutter deep in Bucky’s core. A warmth he hadn’t felt since 1942.

Reading the effort it was taking for Bucky to process her lecture, she returned to finish the rewiring before moving onto the programming.

The conversation remained in a comfortable lull for a while, him watching her work meticulously with a budding admiration. She started to break the silence every once in a while to ask him where the pain points were and what they felt like. Sometimes tightening aspects of the contact socket on his shoulder. Then she’d return to her minuscule adjustments on the arm, teeth biting down onto her bottom lip in concentration. It was adorable and tied Bucky’s stomach into knots. Eventually she began asking Bucky questions about life before the war, and he was happy to answer. He’d pepper his stories with questions about her childhood, treading lightly around her mother after learning of her death until he saw she was more than happy to share her memories. It was easy talking to Y/N. Comforting.

Two hours later she reattached the final exterior plate and set her tools down, rubbing her forehead with the back of her hand. “If my mapping was correct, that should do it. Now I just need to connect it to F.R.I.D.A.Y. for reprogramming.” Then she turned to Bucky with an eagerness in her eye. “Before I do that, I had an idea after what you said about feeling like I was making your arm different.”

Bucky was intrigued. “I’m all ears.”

“What if we actually changed it. Like visually. I can have F.R.I.D.A.Y. update the colour during the programming process. What about matte gunmetal grey? Still neutral, but less punchy. No pun intended.”

Bucky grinned at her humour and thoughtfulness. At the idea of his arm finally looking different than it appeared every night in his dreams.

“I’d like that. A lot,” he nodded.

“Great!” she exclaimed, clapping her hands together in excitement. She started typing furiously on the holographic keypad and then instructed F.R.I.D.A.Y. to begin running the programming. “This will take another hour or so. You can feel free to go and come back… or… we could have tea?”

“Tea sounds nice,” Bucky smiled, running his hand through his hair to push it out of his face.

“Follow me to my secret nook then,” she said with a sparkle in her eyes. She led them to the back of the lab that opened to a small alcove boasting floor to ceiling windows overlooking the grounds of the compound. Two black cushioned chairs were angled towards each other separated by a round side table. The counter across from them housed an espresso machine, kettle, and a sink. Bucky sat while she worked on their tea.

“Nice view.”

“Mmhmm. I often sit here when I’m stumped on something. Helps me untangle my ideas and put them back in order.”

“You’re very methodical. I like that.” The attempt at a flirtatious compliment slipped past Bucky’s lips before he had time to rethink it.

“And you’re very observant. I like that.” She shot him a smile that melted his insecurities as well as his heart. Another look like that and you’re a goner, Barnes.

“Here’s your tea. I realized I didn’t ask, but I added a touch of honey. I hope that’s ok.”

“‘S perfect,” he assured her, snapping out of his internal dialogue. “Thanks.”

The two chatted more about their personal histories. Pop culture and historical events Bucky had missed, which ones he needed to catch up on and which ones he could easily avoid. They were laughing at a story Bucky was recounting from when he and Steve were kids when F.R.I.D.A.Y. informed them the programming was complete.

“Let’s go check out your new arm,” she grinned, extending her hand to take his empty mug.

Bucky’s stomach was doing backflips. But it righted itself as soon as he saw it resting on the platform where Y/N had been working. The new satin finish muted the shine of the now dark grey appendage. The red star was gone. It looked like a completely different prosthetic and the sight of it stopped Bucky’s heart and stole his breath from his chest.

“What do you think?” she asked with a satisfied look once she had reviewed the completion report from F.R.I.D.A.Y. still projected on the translucent screen.

“It’s… It looks incredible. Can I try it?” Bucky asked meekly, his breath shaky and overcome with emotion.

“Of course! Do you want help?”

“No, that’s ok. I’d like to do it,” he managed out.

She nodded, seeing how much this moment meant to him.

He took off his shirt and lifted the cybernetic left arm to his shoulder. A hush fell over the lab and even F.R.I.D.A.Y. seemed to have paused her processes in anticipation. Bucky closed the final inch between the contact plates and the arm whirred as it came to life. He whipped it in a circle once to settle the joint and ensure everything was connected. Then he repeatedly stretched and clenched the metal digits as he twisted his forearm back and forth.

A sniff escaped him and he quickly brushed his cheek under the guise of fixing his hair from his face.

“Are you okay? Does it hurt anywhere?” Y/N asked, concerned by the sudden shift in his demeanor.

“It’s… it’s the first time it hasn’t hurt since I was… since... I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything. Knowing it worked is all I wanted.” Y/N was glowing with satisfaction.

Suddenly Bucky was wrapping his arms around her before he could stop himself. “Thank you so much. I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you. But I’m gonna try.”

“You don’t need to repay me, Bucky. You deserve this.” She breathed a sigh of relief as Bucky attempted to convey his elation via the embrace.

Tony smiled to himself as he caught a glimpse of the two through the glass doors from his workshop. “Ol’ Tin Man has a heart after all. I told you she could do it, F.R.I.”

“That you did, boss. That you did.”

┉✪┉

Part II

[quietmyfearswith]

little activities ; preferences

warnings —none??? fluff?? ddlg dynamics, do not interact if you don’t like it

characters — daddy!andy barber, daddy!steve rogers, daddy!bucky barnes, daddy!lance tucker,  daddy!clark kent, daddy!august walker

a/n — THIS IS A FIC WITH DDLG DYNAMICS,, do not interact if youre not 18+,, just a little something i put together today... lmk what you think!

their love language | with their little | when you’re insecure | slipping into little space | fussy | happy hoelidays | cartoons | obssessed |little rules | innocent little | bratty little

masterlist

“Dada, I have a good one!” Y/N happily cheered while her mouth had a spoonful of her favorite ice cream flavor; seeing her excited state made him chuckle as he wiped the excess melted sundae that escaped her mouth, “Petal you know the rule — don’t talk while eating, yes?” She just nodded happily despite being given a stern reminder as she was too excited to share with him what she knows. After swallowing down the rest of her tasty desert, she repeated to him with a wide grin, “I have a good one, dada! What did the janitor say when he jumped out of the supply closet?” Pursing his lips, he pretended to rack his brain for an answer; but when nothing came up he shrugged his shoulders as his arms pulled in her figure closer to him despite her being all snuggled up on his lap. Throwing her hands up in the air to emphasize her pun as she happily cheered, “Supplies!”

“That was a good one, petal,” Andy praised her after he calmed himself following his burst of giggles. Feeling proud of getting him to laugh out loud, she then nuzzled her face into his chest while one of his hands gently rubbed her back. “I have one too but I don’t think it’ll be as good as yours,” This intrigued her so she removed her face from where she planted it against his chest and pouted, “Wanna hear it, dada! Bet it’s a real good one!” He calmed her down by rubbing her back and placing quick kisses on her lips, “Okay okay, here it is — have you heard about the chocolate record player?” Adorably confused with what he was saying, she shook his head no until he broke out of his serious expression and smiled, “I heard it sounds sweet!” It took her a few seconds to connect the dots; but when she finally did she excitedly squealed out loud and peppered his face with kisses as she wrapped her arms around his torso, “That was so good, dada! I love you and your jokes!”

“Where are you in the game, little one?” August peered over his shoulder to sneak a peek in her own laptop screen; when she saw how he was looking at where she was going, she tilted her screen away from his curious eyes, “Don’t look, daddy! Do your task!” Her Among Us avatar that was in her favorite character was happily skipping around the halls as she was assigned as the impostor, and when she saw another player — who wasn’t her beloved boyfriend — she grinned evilly as she killed the other player. She then happily skipped to the next corridor and entered the electrical room where August’s avatar was. “There you are, little one!” August pointed to the screen as his excited eyes shifted from the screen to where your two avatars were and to her, “Daddy! Keep playing!”

Unfortunately for her, someone saw the body that she had earlier killed. This then prompted everyone to have a meeting, “Wonder who the impostor could be?” August thought out loud as he covertly snuck a glance over to his girl who was biting her lip to try and hold back her fit of giggles. He placed his bet that it was his little one who’s the impostor; feigning innocence she voted on her daddy being the impostor. When it was revealed to the whole crew that Y/N was the impostor, August carried her off  the computer chair and onto his lap as he tickled her tummy, “I knew it was you!” She giggled as his bearded face tickled her neck and instead of pulling him closer to him as she nuzzled him further into him, “Can we play one more game, daddy?” Feeling him shake his head against her skin, one hand turned off both their laptops while the other one held onto her body to ensure she wouldn’t fall off. “We’ve been playing for a few hours now, you need to rest these pretty eyes,” He kissed both her eyelids as she lovingly stared at him, “So what do we do now, daddy?” Having planned out what happens next, the Hammer then carried her out of the office and to the kitchen, “Well little one, I’m gonna give you some snacks before we nap for a bit okay?” Nodding as she nuzzled her forehead against his neck, she let out a low hum of agreement as she felt the exhaustion of playing Among Us start to take a toll on her.

“Tătic, can we dance?” She looked up at him with hopeful eyes; having played with her stuffies bored her and she had a lot of energy to shake off. Locking the tablet, he placed it on the couch beside him as he looked down at his little love who was sitting by his feet as she played independently. “Bored with playing with your stuffies already, sweetie?” She pouted and nodded, holding both her hands as she closed and opened them. Laughing to himself, he grabbed onto her hands, helping her rise to her feet before doing the same, “Let’s dance then!” Giddily, she headed to the corner of the room where they placed their speakers, “Which song do you want, tătic?” As she was unlocking their gadget that was connected to the speakers, Bucky then grinned as he was putting her stuffies on the couch, to help prevent them from being stepped on, “Put our dance playlist on shuffle, sweetie.”

The first few songs that played were energetic songs which allowed them to boogie — Bucky had an excuse to do the moonwalk across the wooden floor flawlessly, or how Y/N bust out her disco moves while the super soldier cheered her on; there was even a song that allowed the both of them to shimmy in front of each other as they laughed at their silly expressions as they did so. However, a few songs, a slow, piano melody hummed through speakers, shifting the mood of the room from an energetic one to a more slow, intimate melody. “Do you want to slow dance with me, sweetheart?” Giggling at how formal hw sounded, she nodded and her one hand entangled with his bionic hand while her other hand rested against his the wide expanse of his back. The flesh hand of the super soldier was caressing the skin of her cheek, he stared lovingly at her, “Did you have fun dancing, sweetie?” Nodding, she smiled and stood on her tippy toes so she could plant a sweet, swift kiss, then pulling away with a wide smile, “I did, tătic! Thank you so much for dancing with me! Can we do this all the time?” Loving how sweet and obedient she was being, he nodded and promised her, “We’ll be dancing together for a long time you'll get so sick of me!”

“Now remember doll, a certain color has its own number,” Steve explained slowly as he pointed to the closed paint container which had the number one taped to it , “Where would this color go in the picture of the giraffe?” Pouting for a bit, she was itching to get her hands dirty and colorful but her daddy decided it was important to lecture her about colors and numbers. “Sir, I wanna paint right now, please!” She batted her eyelashes sweetly to him in hopes that he would put an end to his lesson; but a raised eyebrow and his finger tapping the certain section made it clear that he was nowhere near ending it, “Answer me first, doll, then we can start painting together.”

“That white paint would then go to the ears of the giwaffe,” She struggled to say the animal’s name but correctly identified where the white colorant would go. The Captain kissed her cheek, to which she giggled at as she nuzzled her cheek against his lips, as he praised her, “Good doll! And where would this mustard yellow go?” Pointing to the number four paint, she then was eager to be kissed and praised again so she looked at the paper seriously before pointing to near the animal’s nose, “It goes right over here, sir!” Rubbing her back as he then handed her the paintbrush, he kissed her lips lovingly as he gave her the go signal, “Alright go ahead and paint, doll. And don’t make too much of a mess, alright?” Nodding her head, she then opened the paint then dipped the tip paint brush as she began filling in the blanks with color as she spoke to her daddy with a wide smile, “Thank you so much for this, sir. I love painting with you.” And with one hand on her thigh, occasionally rubbing and squeezing it to encourage her, Steve too began painting his own paint-by-numbers kit.

“And what would be your order, Mr. Superman?” She asked after she pretended to clean up the countertop where her play doh and ice cream play set were; the Kansas-raised man chuckled at his bubba’s silly antics. For today’s playtime she decided to pretend she was running an ice cream shop and he was a customer; pretending to think for what to order, he then smiled as he announced his order, “I’d like some vanilla ice cream please, with some chocolate syrup,” She nodded as she began pouring the white clay doh in the machine, pressing down on it as she sweetly smiled at him, “How’s your day going, handsome?”

“Very well now that you’re here, beautiful,” He winked back at her as she finished twirling the ice cream, she bit her lip to hold herself back from rejecting the compliment he had given her – the last time she shied away from a compliment graced to her, he had punished her with less playtime and by writing multiple lines about how beautiful she was. After squirting some chocolate syrup on the clay doh, she stuck a little spoon to it then pushed it to Clark’s direction, “Here you go, bubba.” Pretending to take a few, big bites of the ice cream she had prepared for him. “This tastes divine, bubba!” He praised her after he beckoned her to sit on his lap from where he was seated comfortably in the bar chairs. Leaning on to him, she hummed satisfied until the Kyrptonian spoke up after rubbing the back of her neck, “That reminds me; how much do I owe you for the delicious ice cream you just prepared?” Giggling at his silly antics, she looked up at him with a smile, “It’s on the house for the earth’s strongest hero!” Gasping out loud as if he was offended, Clark shook his head then kissed the tip of her nose, “Unacceptable! How ‘bout I take you out to get real ice cream?” Excitedly, she nodded and sprinted to the bedroom to get changed and the hero could only chuckle to himself as he followed her, “God, I love my bubba.”

“There we go, angel,” Lance tossed the red colored chalk to the side after writing the number nine, “Now we play hopscotch!” He declares with a wide smile. Y/N then jumps up and down as she cheered happily; bending down to grab a rock, she then looked at her boyfriend, “How do we do it again papa?” Lance thought she was adorable when she tilted her head to the side, eyes filled with curiosity and excitement. Picking up his own rock, he then stood beside her, “I’m gonna show you how to do so okay, angel?” She nodded as watched him closely as the gymnast threw the rock within their playing field, landing on the number five. “Since it landed on the number five, I have to skip to and from the whole thing without stepping on the box with rock on it.” And with that he skipped along to show her what she meant and expertly hopped along.

“That was amazing, papa!” Y/N clapped her hands but pouted when the rock’s rough edges lightly grazed the skin of her fingers, “Is it my turn now?” He nodded as he gestured to their chalked up board and she excitedly nodded and threw the rock into their playing field. The rock landed on the number eight, “Papa, look! I get it farther than you!” Her delight was mirrored by his excited grin and cheering for her as she skipped on the numbers, praising her when she wobbled for a bit when jumping from the numbers six and seven to the last two squares. “Good job, my angel! You were so good!” The gymnast easily carried her off the ground as he twirled her around as she giggled and kissed his lips, “Thank you, papa. Can we go for more rounds on the hopscatch?” And Lance didn’t find the heart in him to reject her, especially with the way she messed up the words, and so they did play all afternoon the fun game of hopscotch.

[watching-pictures-move]

Movie Review | The Couch Trip (Ritchie, 1988)

This review contains mild spoilers.

I like Dan Aykroyd. By definition, you can’t hate someone who is simultaneously a Blues Brother, a Ghostbuster, and a Doctor (Detroit). But with the exception of The Blues Brothers, literally the one time he has ever been close to cool, he’s hopelessly lame, and those other movies understand that. Aykroyd has a tendency to make a certain face, a smile with his eyebrows raised but without any wryness, that’s usually a signal that you’re in trouble, that the movie will present his lameness but not grasp the implications of said lameness. He makes that face on the poster of The Couch Trip, and it’s no surprise that he’s the movie’s biggest weakness. The plot is about an escaped mental patient who’s mistakenly hired to fill in for a psychiatrist’s radio show when the host decides to go on a much needed sabbatical and insists the hire the head of the institution where Aykroyd is being held. This scenario presents a double switcharoo, in that Aykroyd is believed to be the stern but ineffectual head of the institution played by David Clennan, and also becomes better received than the show’s original host Charles Grodin. Aykroyd does plenty of unconventional things like swear on air, hold a free therapy day for his listeners, takes a bunch of them to a baseball game, and generally takes the air out of the stuffed shirts around him with his wisecracking and unusual methods. (I should note that like Grodin’s later switcharoo comedy Taking Care of Business, this too makes reference to the the Chicago Cubs winning the World Series. But that is a more central element to the latter movie’s narrative, and what is suggested as an impossibility here becomes reality in the latter movie.)

If you replace psychiatry with the army, this might seem a little bit like Bill Murray in Stripes, and Aykroyd seems to be hitting a lot of the same notes, even with his vocal delivery. The difference is that Murray is cool and Aykroyd very much is not, and that Murray is able to imbue the material with a genuine irreverence while Aykroyd seems to be going through the motions. This is directed by Michael Ritchie, who is unable to use Aykroyd as astutely as he used Chevy Chase in Fletch, where the star’s laconic presence mixes interestingly with the energy of the noirish plot. (Chase makes a brief appearance here in a commercial as a dad proud of his son’s choice of condoms. I laughed.) The movie also gives Aykroyd a potential love interest in Donna Dixon, who must be channeling feelings from their real life marriage as she regales him with longing gazes, because there’s little onscreen to explain the attraction. Yet at the same time, this material can inspire a Pavlovian response in the viewer. You get Aykroyd on the air, dropping words like “balls”, “son of a bitch”, “asshole” and “fuck” (all of which send his producers into a panic over possible FCC fines), and I can’t help but hoot and holler at least a little bit on the inside. Take that, psychiatric profession! It goes without saying that the movie’s view of mental illness is not terribly nuanced, and it tries to insert some sentiment with the inclusion of a street preacher type played by Walter Matthau. I don’t think the attempt is successful, but Matthau is still funny in the role.

I watched this movie to chase Last Resort, the dirt cheap Roger-Corman-produced vacation comedy starring Charles Grodin, and my primary motivation in watching this was more Grodin. That other movie is not well made by traditional standards, but it understands that the more Grodin you have, the better your movie is. The whole thing is an extremely contrived, poorly-thought-out series of scenes designed to grind Grodin’s gears, and becomes an almost free-associative string of the kind of facial expressions and line readings that only Grodin could deliver. If one could step into the dreams of the real Charles Grodin, Inception-style, I’d wager it would look like this. This is a lesson that The Couch Trip does not grasp at first but tries to atone for in the third act. The fact is, aside from the initial setup, Grodin disappears for much of the movie, but when he returns, he overcompensates, going on a rampage as he seeks revenge on Aykroyd for upstaging him and taking his money and his lawyer and friend Richard Romanus for sleeping with his wife Mary Gross. In Grodin’s absence, the movie is relatively middling, but it’s worth checking out just to see him approach the maniacal and unhinged heights of his work in Clifford.

[drawlfoy]

Wonders of Ohio P.10

masterlist request guidelines

pairing: draco x reader

request: no way 

summary: american high school senior y/n y/l/n is in for a surprise when her british exchange student is a little...odd. 

warnings (AYO please pay attention to these this time it’s not just swearing): swearing, underage drinking (no i do not condone this ig), beginning elements of smut but def not too explicit, i think you can consider it dubcon ?? if both people are drunk bc i don’t think you can actually consent if youre drunk (plz rest assured tho they are both 18 hehe)

a/n: “hey where did this come from” yeah so hey yall ive never written such an intense scene before but i’ve spent so much time w these characters that i decided i kind of had to. there’s no like...real sex in this and i don’t imagine that i’d describe it in this much detail if i ever decided to write it but um.. anyways. i hope y’all enjoy. thanks for suffering for this long ! i hope i’ve made it worth it 

word count: 4k

music recs: 

cloud 9 -- beach bunny

the adults are talking -- the strokes

anything from the strokes tbh 

tags ! :) @gruffle1 @missmulti @cleopatera @hahaboop @accio-rogers @geeksareunique @eltanin-malfoy @war-sword @cams-lynn @itsivyberry @ayo-cowbelly @nerd-domland @yesnerdsblog @shizarianathania @evanstanfanatic @strawberriesonsummer @hariosborn @night-ving @straightzoinked @imintoodeeptostop @naiomimoonshard @jejegu @ophelia-enthusiast @alwaysbeanunknownfan @nearly-memories @litty-dumb @callieclearwater @malfoy-wife15 @charlenasaxen @belladaises @fiantomartell @writeandtranslate @erisdogwood @loveissupernatural @sycathorn-slush @big-galaxy-chaos

“Thank fucking god for the generator,” said Y/N as she flew around the kitchen, banging pots and pans together in her quest to make New Year’s Eve breakfast. Draco was sitting, unamused and completely silent, at the table. They’d been snowed in for a few days now with her parents nowhere near able to make it to the suburbs. For some reason, the entire city of Cincinnati had decided that the day before Christmas was the best time to schedule maintenance on literally every single one of their plows. “Can you imagine living here without heat? Or power? I’d die.”

Draco hummed in response. A glance over confirmed that he was deep in thought, a scarlet colored letter clutched firmly in his hand (hello, Nathaniel Hawthorne). Jealousy curdled inside of her as her thoughts turned to a dark place--it was Pansy, that Pansy Parkinson. 

Knowing her intuition, she was probably his grandmother or something. Why else would she have written so many letters?

After she finished plating all of the pancakes, she allowed herself to sneak a peek at the envelope. 

Astoria Greengrass

She frowned. Astoria? She’d never seen that name before. 

“What is this?” asked Draco as he picked up his fork to poke at the pancake on his plate.

Y/N’s jaw dropped. “Have you never had a pancake before?”

“A pancake?” He gave his plate a stern look. “It looks...like a soggy pastry.”

“Fuck you, I made that,” responded Y/N. “Try it with butter and maple syrup. And then tell me it’s a soggy pastry.”

She took out her fork and knife, demonstrating very clearly what she meant as she spread butter over the top of her pancake. She’d learned that Draco was too proud to ask what she meant when she introduced him to American/muggle foods--the last time he tried to deduce something himself, he ended up pouring ketchup over the top of his hamburger bun instead of actually putting it on the patty. 

A sense of satisfaction flowed into her as she saw him follow suit, spreading the warmed butter and dipping a cut piece in syrup. He raised it to his lips, taking a delicate bite.

“Americans really have this for breakfast?”

“Yeah…is something wrong?”

“Nothing. It’s just…” He grimaced. “This isn’t breakfast. This is dessert food.”

“God, your life must be so sad back home,” said Y/N. “What does your family make you eat--just straight unbuttered bread under the guise of it being a real breakfast food? Do they let you dip it in your unsweetened, weak tea if you’re good?”

He scoffed. “You have no idea how I live back at home.”

“And, judging from this conversation, I don’t have any desire to know any more.”

They ate in silence for the next few minutes. Y/N smiled when she saw Draco reach for a second pancake.

“Two desserts? Draco, I know it’s New Year’s, but don’t get too off the hinges,” she teased. 

He rolled his eyes, but she could tell her was fighting back a smile. “Speaking of which, how do you celebrate New Year’s?”

Draco looked up and met her eyes. “Sorry?”

“How do you celebrate tonight? With your family or your friends, or your...whatever.” The cold reality of the fact that she did not really know if he was dating someone back home set in.

“Oh, I don’t usually. It’s not really a big thing in the magical community,” he mused, unaware of her sudden panic.

“Well,” she said. “I always celebrate New Year’s with my friends. I didn’t tell you this sooner because I didn’t think that you were going to be here, but I’m kind of hosting a party here tonight. With anyone who can walk here.”

“Oh.” He took a sip of his tea. “Will it be like the Halloween party at Sylvia’s?”

“What do you mean?” She smiled. “Do you mean, will there be drinking?”

He shrugged in response, avoiding eye contact.

“There definitely can be,” she continued, her smile widening. “Last year we played this dumb drinking game over this card game--if you lost, you took a shot. It was fun. We could do that again.”

She settled down to eat, digging into two of the pancakes. They were really good--she wasn’t Gordon Ramsay by any means, but she did breakfast food pretty well. But at the mention of her friends, a realization hit her. “Oh. Draco?”

He raised an eyebrow and met her eyes.

“Um, can I tell you something?” 

He dipped his head in recognition while Y/N cleared her throat.

“So, um, I forgot about this,” she began, “but while you were gone, I kind of had to scramble to figure out what to tell everyone about why we were avoiding each other before you left. And why you left so suddenly and why I didn’t know.”

He was still watching her in curious silence. 

“So, I really didn’t want to slip up or say anything about...you.” Y/N paused to take a sip of her tea, deciding to not try to look at Draco again. “So I decided to tell Sylvia and Lizzy that I told you my feelings for you and you didn’t return them.”

A clang startled her enough to look up. Draco was staring, completely frozen. His fork had fallen into the syrup on his plate, handle and all.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. 

“I mean, oh, fuck. Um.” She smiled at him, hoping it was going to distract from her audible stumble. “Obviously, I made it all up. I mean, both sides! But what’s important is that they bought it, and now they’re probably going to give you a little shit for not liking me ‘back’. So I’m sorry about that.”

“Made it all up, huh?” His voice had a surprisingly teasing lilt. 

“Yes, that is in fact what I said,” she responded, hoping that her cheeks weren’t as red as they felt hot.

“Is it really now?” 

“Draco!” 

He rolled his eyes. “I’ll be back. I need a new fork.”

“Just wipe off the handle of the one you have now--Draco, why are you getting up? Stop!”

~ 

To her disappointment, none of her friends were able to show. Sylvia and Lizzy made a concerted effort to try and convince their family to let them brave the walk, but once another flurry started up outside, it was hopeless. Her face turned pink whenever she thought about the fact that she hadn’t even needed to tell Draco the thing that made her slip up in the first place. 

Y/N, disappointed but not surprised, told Draco that she still wanted to celebrate, even if it was just with him. He’d snorted at this--asking her why she made it seem like such a burden--but once she produced a yellow glass bottle and a deck of cards and told him she bet that she was going to beat his sorry ass, he caved.

She started with a heavy lead, but once Draco learned the rules and strategies of the slightly convoluted Go Fish game, he proved to be a worthy match. They played until around 11:45 when the bottle was about 3/4 full and Y/N was feeling the pleasant warmth of being slightly intoxicated. Once she noticed the time, she threw her cards on the table. 

“Let’s watch the ball drop,” Y/N said with no further explanation, even when Draco looked to her for one. She grabbed the bottle and his hand, pulling him up the stairs to her room. The remote control for her TV was a struggle to find--it was all the way tucked back in her nightstand drawer--but thankfully the channel was already set. 

“You forgot the cups,” Draco said, staring down at the opened bottle held in his hand.

“You can get them if you want,” she managed.

“You should! You forgot them.”

“Too far,” she whined, flopping to lean back on her pillows while Draco followed suit. His hair smelled like peppermint. Without much more thought, she moved close enough that their shoulders were touching. He didn’t move away--instead, he lifted the bottle to his lips and took a drink directly. 

“Your New Year’s traditions are weird as fuck,” he murmured as he watched Savannah Guthrie on the screen. He didn’t have to speak very loud for her to hear him, and it seemed like he knew this.

“Oh, you haven’t even heard it all yet,” said Y/N. “We’ve got a tradition to kiss someone going into the New Year. New Year’s kiss, I guess. I’m sure you can imagine the kind of drama that creates.”

“What d’you mean?”

“You don’t have to be dating to kiss someone, sometimes people just...do it. As friends.” Y/N reached over to the bottle and took a swig herself, feeling the warmth trickle down her throat.

“Take it easy,” he tutted, pulling the bottle away from her before taking another drink himself. 

“Hey! Says you!”

“Because I can actually hold my liquor well,” he teased, giving her a shove.

“The fuck are you talking about?”

“You just kept getting worse and worse at whatever that game was,” he told her matter-of-factly.

“Give it here,” she said, reaching across his chest to where he was holding the bottle, out and above his head. She hoped he couldn’t tell how much this side of him filled her with glee. “That’s not fair!”

“Not fair, huh?” He raised an eyebrow and met her eyes as he held it up even further into the air. His voice was startlingly low. “So what are you gonna do about it?”

Before she could muster up a response, the TV began playing the audio for the New Year’s Countdown.

10!

Y/N wasn’t sure if she was supposed to answer--or if he was just...flirting?

9!

He managed to set the bottle on her nightstand without taking his eyes off of her.

8!

The hand she had used to reach across him with was now pressed into his side of the bed, supporting her as she hovered over him.

7!

Without moving any part of her body, she dared to glance at his parted lips.

6!

Maybe telling him about the kiss tradition was a stupid idea.

5!

His hand, warm and soft,  reached up to brush a piece of hair away from her cheekbone. 

4! 

His fingers lingered on the outline of her jaw.

3!

2!

1!

He was kissing her before the cheers from the TV even had the chance to bounce around the room, both hands cupping her face and pulling her in so desperately that it took her breath away.

Her hands found his shoulders, then the back of his neck, and then, eventually his hair. It was just as soft as she imagined it to be. They started out innocently enough--closed mouth kisses and only their hands touching each other above the shoulders--but once she tugged on his hair (mostly by accident) something...shifted. 

Suddenly he was on top of her, and suddenly her leg was wrapped around him as he tilted his head, deepening the kiss. It occurred to her that this was no longer just a New Year’s kiss. He tasted of lemon and sugar--and was notably better at what he was doing than any of the people she’d kissed before. Or maybe it was the alcohol clouding her judgement. Regardless, she liked whatever was going on. His hands had drifted from her face to her neck to her hair to her shoulder, gently tracing the outline of her bra strap. She brushed her hand down his chest, pulling gently at the collar on his shirt. Only when his leg pressed up into her and her breath hitched did she realize the weight of their situation.

The way he pulled away to hover over her signaled that he’d had the same revelation, his eyes wide as he stared down at her. “Um…”

“Yeah?” Dread crept into her despite the pleasant haze she was in. 

He swallowed, hard. “I can’t believe I did that.”

Draco was on the other side of the bed in seconds, wringing his hands and keeping his eyes fixed on her floor. “Oh, my god, I can’t believe I did that. I’m sorry. I’m drunk and I’m not thinking straight. I’m so sorry.”

“Is something wrong?” She didn’t know if he wanted her to touch him, but she wanted so badly to place a steadying hand on his shoulder. “Did you not want...it?”

He scoffed and turned his gaze up to the ceiling. “I had too much to drink. I’m sorry.”

“Oh.” Y/N felt the blood drain from her face as she fell back on the bed.

That’s all it was. A drunken mistake. 

Tears pricked at her eyes as she surveyed her options. Despite the fact that she was drunk off her ass, she knew she couldn’t just tell him to leave without making her feelings clear. She never explicitly told him that she wanted him and it wasn’t like she moaned his name or anything--thank god--but what other option did she have? She didn’t want to cry in front of him, and if he stayed in her room any longer he would without a doubt witness her alcohol induced cry fest. 

NBC finally switched to ads, and Y/N granted herself permission to mourn the fact that Flo from Progressive would forever be ruined for her. 

It was dark enough for her to quickly reach up and wipe her eyes undetected, granting her enough confidence to sit up and look at him directly. “You don’t get to just...kiss me like that. I hope you know that.”

“I know,” he said. His hands were clasped tightly together and rested on his nose. “Fuck. Of course I know.”

“But you can tell me you meant it to be just as friends,” she told him, hoping he couldn’t see how hard she was fighting back a new wave of tears. 

“As friends,” he repeated, his tone flat. 

“As friends,” she said. 

“I don’t think either of us are daft enough to believe that.” 

Her stomach twisted. “What do you mean?”

“Maybe things are different in America, but I don’t see you doing that sort of thing with Lizzy.”

“We can forget about this. It’s fine. I know you regret it.”

He exhaled, his breath long and shaky. “I didn’t stop because I regretted it.”

“Then why did you?”

“Because…”

“Is it because I’m a muggle?” His silence was everything she needed for an answer. “Okay. I had a feeling.”

“Y/N, it’s not like...I don’t know how to explain it.” He still wouldn’t make eye contact with her. “I just don’t know what to do.”

“About what?” 

“About this!” he said, dramatically gesturing to her. “About everything!”

“I don’t understand.” The tears began pricking in the corners of her eyes again despite her best efforts. 

Draco finally looked at her. She was shocked by how genuinely distressed he looked--the last time he looked at her like this, she’d been laying on the ground outside of the antique sore. “I don’t expect you to.”

His tone was low, careful. He was holding back.

“Can you just tell me how you feel about me, then? Just so I know?”

“It’s not that--” He stopped himself, sucking in another breath before he continued. “I shouldn’t. It’s not right of me.” He groaned, flopping onto his back and covering his face. “This wasn’t supposed to happen.”

“Hey,” Y/N said, reaching out to awkwardly pat his shoulder. “I meant it when I said that we could just forget about it. We’re friends, Draco. Just friends. I know you didn’t mean it. Let’s just pretend this never happened, ok?”

He was quiet for a bit before responding. “Did you...want me to kiss you? Did I make you uncomfortable?”

“Uncomfortable?”

“As in, did you want me to stop?”

“Oh.” Y/N cracked her knuckles. “You didn’t violate me if you’re asking to gauge how guilty you should be.” 

“I’m glad to hear that, but that’s not why I’m asking.”

“Okay,” she said simply. He was still laying in her bed, and she hated the fact that her bed was going to smell like him until she washed everything. 

“So?” He raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t answer.”

“We’re friends, Draco.” She sent him a weak smile as she repeated her previous sentiment. “I trust you, so you didn’t make me uncomfortable.” 

She was aware of the fact that her sentence didn’t exactly track, but she wasn’t particularly concerned with the literary quality of her speech.

“That still doesn’t answer my other question.”

“I…” She felt her throat dry up. “I want--I wanted you to kiss me. I’ve wanted you to kiss me for a while now.” 

At this, he finally sat up and looked her in the eyes. She thought she could see the briefest glint of relief pass over his face before he managed to rein it back to a neutral expression.

“Did you want to kiss me?”

“I was the one who kissed you, not the other way around, yeah?”

“That still doesn’t answer my question,” she snipped, hoping he caught on to her mocking. She’d missed sparring with him. 

“Yes, I kissed you because I wanted to, not for some weird ulterior motive,” he responded, rolling his eyes despite the fact that his cheeks were clearly very pink, even in her dimly lit room. “Though I agree it’s best if we just stayed friends.”

“Yeah.” She felt her face fall, but she managed to catch it before she looked too devastated. “It’s all water under the bridge. Now we know not to drink together again.”

“That too.” He shifted, clearing his throat before making eye contact with her again with an uncharacteristically soft expression. “But the damage is already done, I suppose?”

“I suppose,” she echoed. “You wanted to kiss me? Actually?”

“Should we really talk about this? After what we just said about staying friends?”

“We’re going to feel regret tomorrow morning no matter what we do now, “ said Y/N. “Might as well.”

He smiled one of his rare smiles--the ones where his eyes went all soft and he dipped his head to hide it. “Yes. I really do. Want to kiss you, that is.”

“I really want you to kiss me,” she blurted out before slapping her hand over her mouth in shock. “Fuck. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say that out loud.” 

His smile morphed into more of a smirk as he crept closer, his hand resting on top of her knee. “So can I do it again?”

“Draco…” She sighed.

“The damage is already done,” he repeated as he reached his hand up to brush a lock of her hair behind her ear, his fingers dragging down her neck. The smug look that formed on his face after she drew a quick breath in confirmed that he knew what he was doing, that fucker. “You said it yourself--we’re just friends.”

“I’m going to hate myself in the morning if I say yes.”

 Draco’s hand drifted over her jaw, his thumb pausing to trace over her bottom lip. “You can hate me instead.” 

This time, it didn’t surprise her so much when he leaned in. He was notably less desperate, taking time to draw breaths in between kisses and lacing his fingers through hers, squeezing. Once he seemed satisfied, he lifted her chin and brushed the hair away from her neck, kissing down from her jaw to her collarbone. She shivered, and he drew her closer by wrapping his arms around her until she was sitting on his lap.

“Wow, you’re such a good friend, Draco,” she managed to joke. She could feel the smirk that formed on his lips as it passed over her clavicle.

 “Shut up.” His teeth grazed over her delicate skin before he sucked, eliciting a gasp from her. She could feel him smile again. 

His hands teased the bottom hemline of her sweater, his fingers tangling in the fabric but not moving it. She sucked in a breath, feeling his hands ghost over her skin. 

“Are you okay with…”

“Yes!” The answer came out much quicker than she would’ve liked, but the grin on Draco’s face made it completely worth the momentary embarrassment as he helped her out of the thick cable-knit sweater. “Now is your chance to dote on me and tell me how beautiful I am. As a friend, of course.”

“You stole the words right out of my mouth,” he said. He looked like he was positively glowing as she smiled and leaned in to kiss him, slow and deep. His hands found her back and hesitated over her bra clasp.

Before he had a chance to do anything, Y/N started fiddling with the buttons on his white shirt, successfully undoing the first two before she noticed that Draco had frozen completely.

“Is something wrong?”

“Kind of,” he said. “Maybe...not now, okay?”

“I had a feeling that was too much,” she admitted, reaching for her top before realizing he’d tossed it across her bedroom floor and suddenly feeling very exposed.

“It’s not that…” he said, trailing off. “I just...should probably tell you some things before my shirt comes off. And I don’t think tonight is the best time for that.”

“Oh.” Y/N tried to make herself look like she understood whatever he was on about. “Yeah, of course. Oh! Is it about that tattoo you tried to gaslight me into believing didn’t exist?”

“Y/N!” he exclaimed. “I didn’t gaslight you!”

“Here you go again,” she huffed. “I rest my case.” 

“And I am not getting into that now,” he said. “I didn’t want to talk about it for very good reason.” 

She reached up to his shoulders, dragging her fingertips over his collarbones and watching as he gazed up at her. “That’s okay. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

The corners of his lips turned up at this, and she took the opportunity to press a chaste kiss on the edge of his mouth. “I think we should go to sleep. We have enough material to regret for tomorrow at this point. Any more and I think we’ll be getting greedy, so--”

Draco cut her off with one last kiss, his fingers splayed out across her back, pulling her impossibly close before finally releasing her.

“Agreed.” He let out a sigh before sliding her off him and standing up to grab her runaway sweater. “Do you want to sleep in this? Or do you want me to get you something else from your dresser while I’m up?”

“Um…” She was frozen at the prospect of him watching her change clothes. “Probably something else. Top left drawer--just pick whatever.”

He sifted through her piles of random T-shirts before settling on one with the UChicago logo and tossing it to her. 

Y/N pulled it over her head, grateful for the fact that he wasn’t staring at her with only a black lace bra that barely did its job. 

“So, uh, I think I should probably go then,” he said. 

She fought the urge to ask him to stay. “Yeah, that’d be best.”

His mouth opened like he was about to say something, but he closed it and frowned. “So I guess this is goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Draco,” she replied. “I’ll look forward to agonizing over this in the morning.”

Once the sounds of his footsteps heading down the hall faded, she finally allowed herself to flop back onto her now Draco-scented sheets.

What the fuck just happened.

final a/n: hellooooooo ! it finally happened! i hope this didn’t seem rushed or unnatural to you guys but like. it’s been over 30k words and i thought you guys deserved something. yes i am going to be leaning into the whole “we’re just friends” trope while definitely not being just friends. yes i am going to drag astoria into this i’m excited i hope yall enjoyed

[waywardimpalawriter]

The Bet (Bucky Barnes x F!Reader)

The Bet

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Rating:  M (mature) NSFW

Warnings: gambling, teasing, a little bit of spice

Word count: 3,051

Summary: Game night with team Cap turns up unexpected results.

Notes: Written for Writer Wednesday. Thank you for the very lovely @autumnleaves1991-blog​

“Hope you’ve all brought a fat wallet tonight,” devilish smirk tipping the corner of her ruby lips upward. “It won’t be that way for long. I plan on parting you from your hard earned cash in spectacular fashion.” Shuffling the deck like a seasoned pro in Vegas and dealing the cards out.

Eyes rolling while sipping your Screw driver, “You gonna talk us to death Romanoff or deal the hand?” Brow lifting, hiding your own smirk behind the high ball glass.

“Just a sore loser Y/N,” blowing you a kiss after finishing the deal. Deck slammed down in the center as everyone grabbing for their cards to look them over.

A few soft groans at the terrible hands dealt, “Your shit at dealing Nat you gave me nothin,” Sam calls from your left between Steve and Wanda.

“Suck it up buttercup you play the hand your dealt,” downing her first shot of vodka. Locking eyes with Steve for a moment, “And watch your mouth…”

“You know what Romanoff that’s getting old,” rolling his green flecked blue eyes, shooting a piece of popcorn towards her head. Only to have it deflected by a quick brush of her hand.

“Children,” fake stern voice utters from beside you long neck meeting those soft lips. Trying very hard not to watch the single drop of condensation slide from bottle to chin, and down the strong expanse of tanned neck. Never being more jealous of a simple drop of water than right now. “Stow the bickering for later in the game when my pile is triple what the rest of yours is.”

A chorus of snorts drown out the music for a moment, “Bucky sweetie in your dreams will that truly happen.” Snarky comment leaves your lips right as Bucky fixes those cerulean eyes on you. Finding it a little difficult to think for a spilt second as you fidget under his heated stare.

“Wanna make a bet?” This time a chorus of groans echo around the table accompanied by head shakes. “It is Wednesday night poker right? Why not make this a little more,” pausing brow lifting giving you a slow perusal his eyes darkening to pitch. “Interesting then just Nat taking our money?”

“Ah you at least acknowledge my superior poker skills good man Barnes,” sassing him with a smirk and the salute of her shot glass. “But I rather not need eye bleach to scrub your naked ass from my memory. Of that I’m sure most around this table would agree.”

Affirmations of the positive echo her words along with chuckles in various lengths. Leaning over while everyone places their bets your turn coming up quickly. “What’s the bet Barnes?”

Maybe its the vodka infused orange juice you’ve been sipping, beer tasting like ass to you. Instead sticking with the harder liquors to pair with the right mix. Drinking isn’t something you’ve done much so maybe it’s having a quicker affect on your system. However, something tells you it has more to do with the man sitting a little too close on your right. Leather and whiskey wrapping around your senes to send tingles across your skin. He’s the reason for your bold question determined to ditch your comfort zone for one night and be a little wild.

Placing a pot bet then turning to watch you do the same, admiring your profile for the moment. Having only admitted to one other person how much he wanted you, Bucky can’t believe you’ve actually asked him for a bet just between the two of you. His mind races with possibilities none more prominent than having you spread out in his bed whimpering his name. Body withering in the pleasure he’s giving you. Your voice bringing him back to the present and trying to clear the lustful thoughts parading through his mind.

“If I win more hands you’ll be mine for the night,” brushing his lips over the shell of your ear pleased smile at hearing the sharp intake of breath from you. Knowing he’s playing with fire at proposing such idea, he could loose his heart to you so quickly and maybe that’s what he wants most. To finally let himself feel something other than pain, anger and remorse. Though that little voice in the back of his mind taunts, you wouldn’t want the ex-assassin with so much blood and death on his hands.    

Swallowing harshly you turn to look up into his eyes, “And if I win?” Everyone else disappearing, sounds going mute and all focus is on Bucky. Wishing his winnings wouldn’t be just for a night. That’s right you knew already he’d win since you sucked at poker and only played to hang out with your family instead of just missions and meetings. Happily loosing most Wednesdays just to see the pleased looks on their faces instead of grimaces of pain when patching them up.

“What do you want to win?” Itching to reach out free your bottom lip from being trapped between your teeth and run his thumb over the wet bitten skin.

Throat clearing, to draw both of you back to the game, “You playing or just ogling each other? Either way place your bet or fold so the rest of us can get on with the game Sergeant Frostbite.” Rolling his eyes and downing the last of his beer, Sam stands to get a refill silently asking if anyone else wanted one.

Both of you fold more interested in each other than the usual poker game. Your mind whirling with thoughts, not sure how to answer the bet. Thinking and discarding so many ideas, between asking him to be more careful on missions and to stop baiting Sam with snarky comments and looks. Settling for something your sure would get you into trouble but couldn’t stop yourself.

“Never thought you were that kinky Y/N.” Sweet Sokovian accented voice floats through your mind, head snapping up to look over at a smiling Wanda.

“Your not suppose to be reading minds babe,” for which you get a small shrug and a wicked smile spreading over her lips. Tsking in your head trying to keep from laughing, “Careful I might have to let the mistress of pain know.”        

“You wouldn’t? Besides your thoughts were so damn loud I couldn’t help it. I’m surprised the whole table doesn’t hear the both of you,” winking she nods towards Bucky who’s still looking at your expectantly. “Might want to answer Buck before giving him an aneurysm since he’s waiting on bated breath what you’ll ask for.”  

Clearing your throat and grabbing up your glass to take a drink, finding Bucky staring. Admiring the way your tongue peeks out to wipe up the left behind bits of orange juice. Shy smile sliding over your lips, eyes darting to the group and finding them arguing over who won the last pot.

“How about a private strip show just for my eyes only Sergeant Barnes?” Nervously swallowing hoping you’ve haven’t asked for too much. But then once would never be enough for you. Needing a repeat performance whenever the mood strikes to accompany being totally wrecked by this man who haunts your dreams.

“Tell him, you’ll be surprised at his answer,” Wanda urges then falls silent as another hand is dealt by Sam this time. She gives you another wink returning her attention to the game.

Biting off the groan of arousal, shifting in his seat to adjust himself and the bite of his jeans against his hardening cock. “I think…” irritated growl leaving his mouth when Sam tossed a balled up napkin at his head. Dead center hit to Bucky’s forehead making everyone cheer around the table. Getting a scowl from the man in question, “What?”

“Your turn Frostbite or have you forgot the game already?” Bitting the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing at the look Bucky sends him. Knowing the shared unrequited feelings you’ve both harbored for each other. “Has old age finally caught up to you old man?”

“I don’t think it’s the age that’s caught up with him Sam,” Steve grins for which Bucky cuts his eyes at his best friend.

“Value your life Rogers and all the secrets I keep about your pre-serum days you’ll keep that mouth shut,” threat empty as everyone knew but Steve still gives him a mock hurt expression.

Hand to his chest, “You won’t buddy?” Seeing the lifted brow cerulean eyes dart towards Nat and back to Steve’s who catches the wordless meaning. “Fuck off jerk.”

“Steven Grant Rogers did you kiss your mother with that mouth?” Natasha exclaimed biting her lip to keep the laughter from rolling out.

“Then keep your mouth shut Steve.” Bucky shot back with a taunting grin spreading across his face at Nat’s words.

Playful gasp leaving your lips, “I never thought I’d hear those kind of words uttered from your good boy lips Steve.”

“Good boy?” Snorting Bucky holds his stomach as a full belly laugh leaves his lips at the very thought. “Doll he’s got you all fooled. Hook lined and reeled in,” glancing at you for a moment then back at Steve. “You gotta quite acting all saintly Steven you’ll never get laid.”

Chocking on his beer, wiping at the mess, while his eyes throw daggers at Bucky. “Keep it up Buck and you’ll find a shield up side your head next mission.”    

Peels of laughter sound around the table drowning out the music, a beet red Steve just gapping at his family in fake astonishment. Sam’s slumped forward head resting on his forearms while gruff deep chuckles sound from him. Wanda wide eyed but soft giggles leave her as Natasha full out belly laughs, slamming a hand down on the table. Disturbing the poker chips and cards, glasses and bottles wiggling in there spots. While you’ve managed to pull your phone out and snap a few quiet pictures to save and send Clint. Who’s missing all the action while out on his own mission. Mirth dances in your eyes that lock with Bucky’s. Lips parting on a soft gasp of surprise with how he’s staring at you. Heat flaring to life across your body and you swallow trying to regain some moisture to your parched throat.

Leaning over, “We’ve got a deal doll, prepare to loose though.” Glancing back at the table seeing everyone still recovering from their laughter, Bucky uses that moment to press closer. Placing his slightly chapped lips to your cheek, “If there’s one thing Romanoff got right it’s that I’m a sore looser. I play to win,” dragging those sinful lips away to sit back in his chair. Cards resting now between those large hands.

Hands you wish were somewhere else right this moment, soothing the arch building between your thighs that rub together in the bid to find some kind of friction on your clit. Marveling at how quickly that simple brush of his lips could turn you into a pile of goo in your own seat.

Clearing your throat, “Bring it on Buck this time I may just have a reason to win as many hands as I can.”

Gauntlet tossed down with the raise of his brow. Determination coats your veins especially when he gives you a very heated once over. Scorching your very soul with the intensity making you throb, clit jumping at the very promise those wickedly beautiful eyes held. Watching the way his fingers caress the long neck bottle in his flesh hand. Bringing the brown glass to his lips for a deep drink.

Savoring the taste more than any effects it could have on him. “Careful doll face those who play with fire usually get burned,” eyes lock with yours licking those sinfully plush lips.

Glancing between his lips and eyes, your own smirk tugging your mouth upward. Free hand coming to rest on Bucky’s thigh, the heat of your palm burning his jeans covered skin. Shifting in his seat to relieve the pressure on his cock with the touch of your hand. “Don’t worry none James,” voice a soft purr in his ear. “I have salves of all kinds that’ll take care of a burn. It’s the ache I need taken care of. There’s no medication to take accept my own fingers to help sooth the pressure.” Drawing patterns over his thigh, feeling tension held tightly in those delicious muscles you wouldn’t say no to feeling between your thighs.

A bit shocked with how forward your being. His reactions only spurring on your need to see just how far you could push him before he snaps and finally takes you. Asking yourself for the thousandth time if once would state the desire you have for this man? Wanting to have more than friendship between you though you’d take it and run. But there’s a part of you which wants more, to open your heart and share it with Bucky. You only hope he feels the same way.  

For a second Bucky’s mute ignoring the calls from Sam and Steve to stare at you, mouth hanging open. Only to close with a challenge flaring in his cerulean eyes. “You sure about what your offering sweetheart?” Hating to ask but not wanting to miss understand you or the intentions swimming through your mind that he’s not privy to yet.

“As sure as the next breath I’ll be taking,” moving your hand from his thigh to rest on his vibranium forearm. Looking up into his eyes, soft smile gracing your lips that turn into a squeal. Ice sliding down the front of your shirt, cutting your eyes towards the rest of the table all of whom are pretending to not see anything. All except Natasha who’s just giving you a Cheshire Cat grin. Jumping to your feet, shaking your shirt to get the ice out. Only to have it caught in your bra melting against your heated skin, peaking your nipples. Scowling at the red head, “Your dead to me Romanoff,” playfully glaring at her before taking off towards the kitchen.

Not realizing Bucky is following you have your hand down the front of your shirt trying to fish the cube out when he clears his throat. “Need help?” Wicked grin pulling across his lips.

Licking your own at the heat flaring through your body and in his eyes, “It’s a slipper little devil.” Capturing your bottom lip between your teeth and nibbling hard as Bucky steps towards you. Crowding you against the counter, planting his hands on either side of your body.

“Maybe it’ll help if you take off the shirt?” Tugging the black AC/DC shirt twice, flesh hand teasing along your side under the shirt.

Gulping to gather air into your starved lungs, shivering as the ice moves against your skin pebbled nipple starting to tent your bra and t-shirt. Distracting Bucky as his gaze drops and his hand moves upward. Sliding two fingers just under the wire and cup of your bra to snag the cube. Pressing it to your nipple, melting the ice between the heat of his fingers and your body.

“Tell me to stop and I will doll face. I won’t do anything you don’t want,” words puffing from his lips that are just inches from yours.

“You stop and I’ll have to hurt you James,” hissing turned whimper as those talented fingers wrap around your nipple and tug. Desire fogged brain only barely registering your arms wrap around his broad shoulders, embracing his body to pull him closer.

Grinning right behind his mouth claims yours. Desperate and passion fueled, licking his tongue against the seam of your lips. Which open on a gasp Bucky having found the front clasp of your bra and popped it open to cup and massage your breast. Weighting the generous globe before rolling the pebbled nipple between his fingers. Giving a light pinch to gage your reaction. Confirming whimper has an answering growl from deep within his chest. Vibranuim arm tightly wrapping around your waist as you damn near suck his tongue into your mouth tangling together for play and pleasure. Pushing your body into his wanting to mold the two of you together as the kiss turns deeper. Breath becoming an issue and you break part panting to gather in air to your starved lungs.

“Bucky,” whimpering his name, head lolling back to give his questing lips access to the sensitive column of your throat. Swallowing to gather your wits. “James,” you try again running your nails through his hair, scrapping his scalp lightly and pulling a groan from the man against you. “I’m going die if you don’t fuck me James.” Words whimpered from you lips.

“We can’t have that now can we doll?” Dragging his nose up your beautifully scented skin to nip at your earlobe. Hands one warm the other cool cup your ass and lift, your legs wrapping around his trim waist of the own accord.

Pressing his harden cock into your willing core, making you shutter around him at the delicious friction his movements cause. “Don’t you dare tease me James,” burying your lips against his neck to bit down on the strong cords sucking a small mark just south of his thumping pulse.

“Marking me already sweetheart?” Pushing away from the counter to head towards his apartment. Trying to focus on his steps and not how good you feel in his arms. “I wouldn’t dream of teasing you doll but if you keep using that mouth of yours to tempt me I won’t be held accountable for the state your clothes end up in or the fact that the whole compound will hear us.”

Pulling back, hands spread over his neck, fingers tugging at the short strands, “Then you better pick up the pace Sergeant before I have to take matters into my own hands and that would be a shame to take care my own self. Wouldn’t it James?”

“Yes ma’am,” pausing at his door to press you into the hard wall. Rocking into your body so you can feel just what you’ve caused.  “Especially when I have just the remedy to sooth that ache you were talking about.”

Poker night was never the same again at least night for you and Bucky.

[stxvercgersslut]

One of the good ones

Description: you always had a bad experience with Christmas in the past due to your bad home life. But your boyfriend, Steve Rogers, and his 4 year old daughter, Lilah, are determined to give you the best Christmas ever.

Warnings: extreme fluff like there is way too much fluff in this one fic and it wasn’t even supposed to this long! mentions of bad family experiences.

Prompts: Gif is a prompt too,

“you’re skipping Christmas? Isn’t that against the Law?” (Christmas with the Kranks)

A/n: yeah I’m late to the party but @chrissquares is just too damn amazing for me not to at least write one fic for this challenge!

————————————————————

“No you have to be kidding!” Your boyfriend of almost 1 year spoke, totally and utterly shocked from your declaration just a few seconds ago. Mouth wide in shock horror causing the little 4 year old Sarah, named after Steve’s loving mother who had tragically passed away during the 40′s, to giggle slightly at how hysterically ridiculous her daddy looked right now.

You, on the other hand, weren’t as amused at the toddler. In fact, you were bored of the conversation already and the love of your life had only brought it up a couple seconds ago to make conversation. But then again you could just have been in a god awful bad mood like you always were this close to Christmas. “You heard me Steve...I’m not repeating it again. Please just drop it?” you pretty much begged at this point which seemed to cause Sarah to giggle a tad bit more since she seemed to find this entire scene quite amusing. Especially with how ridiculous the whole situation was.

But Steve didn’t want to end the conversation just yet. No he was determined to get to the bottom of this. “Nu uh baby girl. You don’t just get to blurt out that you’re skipping Christmas altogether and not explain why” he declared, a much sterner look on his face.

However, those words seemed to pluck Sarah’s attention away from her pretend tea party on the floor and landing her straight into the current conversation. She couldn’t seem to help herself. Especially after what she had just heard.

“What!” The four year old announced in the cutest little voice that Steve had ever heard in his life, causing the super soldier to crack a smile. Meanwhile your expression still stayed static. “you’re skipping Christmas? Isn’t that against the Law?” The toddler added to her previous shock.

You really weren’t expecting that. Especially not from a toddler as young as Sarah was. Yet you still managed to prepare yourself to answer her question. “It’s not against the law. It’s perfectly acceptable to just ignore Christmas all together” oh you should have known Sarah wouldn’t have accepted that answer.

“Why would you want to skip Christmas...” now she looked offended. No, offended wasn’t the word, she was totally and utterly shocked that someone would actually hate a holiday that she assumed everyone loved due to the magical experience. All kids loved Christmas so why didn’t you? That wasn’t something you truly didn’t want to disclose.

“Because” you answered, not having the energy to come up with anything too interesting that would actually put the situation to bed without any more questions. But if you’d believed that Sarah would just leave it at that then you were painfully mistaken.

“Because what?” She answered with her beautiful blue eyes sparkling in the sun light shining from the window with how wide her little eyes were. You really had started a war now.

However, finally your boyfriend decided to actually interject, seeing the way you cringed in thought “Sarah come on she doesn’t wanna answer baby” the super soldier explained, walking closer to you and wrapping his arms loosely around your waist to let you know that he was there. Just because he was trying to help ease the situation with his daughter didn’t mean he’d let this go. Oh no.

"Because isn't an answer!" And there it was, the delicate child had began to press you for answers that you truly didn’t want to expose.

Quickly you sat down on the floor with your step daughter, taking her little hand in yours before digging around in your brain for a answer that you could give to her. “Sarah.....it’s hard to explain baby...I don’t really think that this is a discussion that you really need to be a part of okay?....” you eased, placing a hand on her shoulder as a peace offering to which she seemed to take and just wander even closer to you, pretty much tugging you into a mighty tight hug. For a 4 year old she was extremely strong. Mostly due to the super soldier serum already running through her veins.

After the hug Sarah pulled away,  showing her shiny white baby teeth to you before giggling away to herself when she turned around to play with her toys again. Finally you had managed to stop the toddler from pressing for answers.

Steve, on the other hand, was not going to allow this to happen. You were the love of his life, the one that swooped into his life during a time where he had believed true love would never find him. You'd change his life for good and most importantly you were the very first women that he'd allowed into his daughters life. No way was he going to let you skip the lost wonderful time of the year. "And what do you plan on doing on Christmas Day if you're skipping Christmas then huh?" He asked, wiggling his eyebrows which successfully made you laugh due to his stubbornness.

"Well...." you began, scratching your head in thought as you struggled for an answer. It was the easiest of things to answer since you barely did anything. "I'll probably watch F.R.I.E.N.D.S for the hundredth time and finish off a bottle of wine." You admitted, guessing truth would probably be the your one true option.

But the look on Steve's face told you otherwise. Maybe you should have just lied instead of telling the truth. Then at least you would have spared yourself the humiliation of telling the one man you loved more then anything about your plans for Christmas.

Steve laughed, he fucking laughed at you. Not in a rude way (you hoped) but in a way that showed just how shocked and confused he was at you antics. How could someone like you not want to celebrate Christmas? That had to be against the law right? Just like Sarah had said, no one should skip Christmas. “Baby! You really think I’m gonna let you just be alone for Christmas?” he spoke, voice stern as if he was speaking to one of his team mates and not you his literal girlfriend. Clearly Steve wasn’t ever going to let you just be miserable, especially when it was Christmas that was hanging in the balance. No he’d be damned if he was going to let any of what you had planned out for your Christmas alone. 

“Well I kinda wasn’t going to ask for permission.” You interjected, knowing that this was an argument waiting to happen but you didn’t really care at this point. All you really wanted was for this conversation to be over and for Steve to completely forget about everything that you had said. not that that was ever actually going to happen now. Of course that wasn’t going to happen.

Steve was silent for a few seconds as he crossed his arms in a slight huff, of course catching the eye of the small toddler who instantly repeated the same gesture in which her father had just done. that in itself was the most adorable thing in the world.

“Well you don’t need to ask permission I guess...but its still not right! I’m not letting it happen.” He spoke, once again using his stern Captain America voice. Which seemed to provoke a little giggle from Sarah before she once again repeated Steve’s exact words in her beautiful little childish voice. Although you really wanted to reply to his comment, right now you couldn’t. It was Sarah’s moment to interject so right now you allowed this to happen. Now that in itself had enough power to cause Steve to finally break his stern facade, letting out a joyful chuckle before turning to his little girl deciding to test how far Sarah’s little game would go. 

After a couple seconds Steve placed his hands on his hips he grinned childishly. Sarah once again repeated the action in her little childish ways. So in retaliation Steve placed his middle finger against his nose, Sarah repeated once again. Oh this game really was causing you to burst out into a fit of giggles. It was almost as if she had sensed the tension in the air and just wanted to put an end to it. Which the little girl had done effortlessly. Things like this really did seem to make you realise how lucky you were to be a part of Steve’s life. You just really hoped to god that Steve would never get bored of you. 

You had no idea how on earth any of this had happened, but after a few more minuets Steve had began to dance around with Sarah. Wiggling his body around like one of those inflatable balloons that danced around when the wind blew them just right. At that point you just couldn’t hold back the laughter that was erupting inside of you, causing your stomach to ache with how much you were laughing. Now you really had forgotten about the conversation that had once been important to Steve. Little did you know that Steve hadn’t forgotten, in fact it was still quite important to him.

______________________________________________________________

It had been a good couple of house later that Steve had finally managed to once again pluck up the courage to finally speak to you. He needed to make this Christmas one that you would never forget. If he didn’t then he would have failed, something he desperately didn’t want to happen. Especially when you were apart of his life. Clearly he loved you too much to let you deal with another Christmas alone, even if that was actually what you wanted to do. He’d be damned if he was going to let that happen.

After putting Sarah in her bed to nap, Steve slowly walked over to where you were sitting in Steve’s bedroom, a room he so longed to share with you. Maybe one day he would. Taking his time as he attempted to figure out exactly what he was going to say. Although he did have a small inkling as to what he wanted.

“Y/n.....baby.....I know it was hours ago since we spoke about your Christmas plans...but I think we need to continue that conversation.” He began, voice low as he attempted to kee the conversation quiet as to not wake Sarah.

This took you by surprise, your head shooting up from your phone screen to look him directly in the eyes. This time his eyes were less stern. No instead his beautiful blue eyes were softly looking at you as if you were the most angelic creature that he had ever encountered in his 100 years of living. And in his eyes you truly were.

“Steve....just drop it please....I just want to forget about Christmas this year like every year” you replied hoping he’d understand. Yet he didn’t.

“No baby....I’m not going to drop this!” His voice raising ever so slightly as he began to voice his opinion.

“Why? Why won’t you drop this? It’s one subject I don’t want to talk about!” You yelled back, although your voice still wasn’t too loud since you had to make sure you wouldn’t disturbe the sleeping toddler in the other room.

Your raised voice had seemed to throw Steve ever so slightly, confusing him. “Because this is important to me y/n! You’re important to me! And I’m not going to let you be sad and alone on Christmas Day! It’s just not happening” now he wasn’t asking. He was being assertive. Which wasn’t exactly the greatest thing in the world but what could you do about it? Clearly Steve wasn’t going to let go so you couldn’t either.

“I’m alone every other Christmas so why does this year have to be any different?” You challenged knowing Steve wouldn’t like that one bit. But the again you were most certainly past caring at this point.

Once again Steve was taken aback by your words. “You didn’t have me and Sarah back then! Now it’s different you don’t have to be alone on Christmas or any other day because you’ve got me! And I’ll be damned if I’m going to let you be alone when you have two people in your life that love you more then anything in the whole world!”

He hadn’t heard it at first, hadn’t heard those words escape his lips until he saw your face drop. That stern look leaving your features and instead gracing your face with a much brighter smile that he had so desperately missed. That was when he’d realised that the words he’d tried so desperately to keep in until the time was right had now escaped his lips. To say he was terrified was an understatement. What scared you more was how worried he looked now.

“Y......you love me....” you asked with wide eyes, a smile gracing your features. The sound of those words really did seem to shock you. “Y.....You love me?” You repeated trying to get his attention.

Finally you had, that worried expression on his face still continuing to get wider as he tried to figure out if you would run or stay. Clearly terrified that he’d lose you because of what he had just said.

“Of course I love you y/n, I love you so much more then you will ever know. I know I should have never kept this from you for so long. I should have told you How I felt the second that I started to feel that way....” he explained hoping you’d understand as much as physically possible. That’s all he wanted.

“Why didn’t you?” You inquired.

“Because I was terrified of what you’d say...” he admitted, showing you the side of him he was too afraid to show.

“You shouldn’t have had to be scared. I love you too Steve....I love you so so much”

This Christmas was going to be the best Christmas you had ever experienced.

Tag list: @chuckbass-love @harrysthiccthighss @jtargaryen18 @et-lesailes @cevans-fics @amythedvdhoarder @drabblewithfrannybarnes @pumpkin-and-pine @starlightcrystalline

[ragweed98]

This is my first, tentative post, it's borderline smut with Roger Taylor. I've only ever edited and brainstormed with the amazing writer @a-bisexual-phantom

So I guess tension as a warning?? Mild cliffhanger as I can't write the actual act for the life of me?? I tried to be accurate!!

You were so excited for the opportunity to intern with Queen, not only was it a huge learning experience but you had the feeling that you were watching history go down. Some aspects of your job included anything and everything anybody else needed, paperwork, snacks, occasionally breaking up fights between band members when the manager wasn't able to. 

You loved the little farm house that the band would be recording their album at. You really hoped the quiet countryside would provide maximum song-writing atmosphere for everyone. Once everyone got settled into their bedrooms, yours being the closest to the bathroom probably due to the fact that you were the only female, you decided to explore a little bit as this may be your only chance before being buried in paperwork.

After looking through the studio, you began exploring outside and you discovered a few worn paths that went who knows where. Naturally you picked one and immediately started walking down it. You weren't scared of getting lost or running into any murderers. Along the first trail, the plants were growing together overhead, creating a tunnel of green that the last of the sun shone through.

You made your way back and decided to grab a torch so you could continue your adventure into the night hours and then departed to the second trail of the trip. As you walked you dragged your feel, shuffling through the leaves, smiling to yourself at the noise you created. Your smile grew, splitting across your face as you came to the end of the trail, as you took in the sight before you. 

It was a gorgeous lake, "perfect", you thought to yourself "for relaxing". 

The fact that you had no swimwear was a trivial thought, and easily fixed since you were most likely to be the lake's only occupant. 

You walked back to the house around three a.m. water droplets clinging to your hair. The door didn't creak, but as you crept down the hall towards your door the floor squeaked with every step you took. Though you thought you were in the clear as you entered your room, you failed to notice a door open and a shaggy blond head poke out to see who was squeaking in so late.

With three and a half hours of sleep under your belt you started making a huge breakfast for everyone at about 6:30 a.m. As the smoke from the grease filled pans hissed up, the aromas of bacon, eggs, and much needed coffee coaxed everyone out of their rooms. Everyone filtered in, sitting down sleepily, looking like rock and roll zombies. You set plates out for everybody to dish themselves up, Roger grabbed the last two plates, setting them down to dish up next to you on the counter and put his other hand on the other side of you. 

"Someone had some late night adventures last night", Roger whispered in your ear, his raspy voice laced with sleep. 

You turned to face him intending to ask why he had been up at that hour too when you realised since the whole band was still in their pyjamas you came face to chest with the shirtless drummer. With the toned arms of Roger Taylor on either side of you, you put on your best professional, no nonsense face about half a foot away from his. You couldn't put much more distance between you and him due to the kitchen counter and he seemed to know that as he smirked, leaning forward slightly with his whole body. 

"Mr. Taylor, that's quite enough", you said in a soft stern voice. 

"Oh you two are adorable." Freddie said at the same time Deaky started complaining about Roger not being able to go five minutes without blatantly flirting with the band's intern. 

"Roger, please leave Miss L/N be, as she is here to help Miami help us with our career." Brian said without looking up from his songbook and coffee. 

Roger sighed at Queen's comments, then looking at you, drawled, "it doesn't seem as though Y/N wants me to move..." 

His eyes widen as you suddenly put your hands on his bare shoulders and use him to hop up on the counter in front of him, lift your legs over his arm, back onto the floor and walked off with your plate, saying since his ego was so big and heavy you moved so he wouldn't have to strain himself. Freddie barked out a laugh, congratulating you on rendering Roger speechless. 

"It's not often he doesn't know what to do with his mouth." You chuckled. 

"Especially when a beautiful girl is involved," Freddie said, causing the drummer to blush as he continued gawking like a goldfish. 

It had been a few weeks of stress filled song writing and you were attempting to enjoy a shower when you heard thumps coming from outside the bathroom. You ignored the commotion and finished your shower, toweling off only to realise you hadn't brought clean clothes to change into.

You wrapped your towel around your body securely and cracked the door to peek out and seeing that the coast was clear you calmly walked towards your open door. As soon as you went to close the door, hands grabbed your waist and pulled you behind the door, against the wall, your hands pushing at the possible kidnapper. 

You let out a yelp only to be silenced by a hand over your mouth as a body pushed up against you HARD. Roger opened the door back up until it was touching his back and put a finger to his lips, touching both of your noses as he did so. Freddie thundered down the hallway and tiptoed into your room brushing by the door as he entered. Roger pulled your leg up around him and leaned  all the way into you to give the door an inch to swing inward as Freddie walked back out of your room, having unsuccessfully found anyone. 

"We're playing hide and seek, Love" Roger breathed in your ear as he let his hand slide down from your mouth to lightly rest on your throat, smirking at your current attire. 

"Well, Mr. Taylor, you should have said so." You said as you decided to get him back for his 'unprofessionality' as Brian referred to it. "FREDDIE! ROGER'S IN--" Roger cut you off with his hand, cursing as Fred's footsteps pounded back into your room. 

"Oi, Roger! Put her down" Freddie yelled at the drummer who realized you were still flush around him in his hiding spot. He glared at you as he let you push him off you this time and slipped over to your dresser. Freddie shoved Roger out of the room for you to change, thanking you for your service in the game.

As the door clicked shut you let the façade of professional indifference fall as your face blushed red hot at the situation and proximity you had just come out of. Deciding that taking another shower would be doing too much, you changed into shorts and a tank top and took a dry towel to head to the lake. You poked your head out to see that it was Roger free, strode down the hallway and headed down the stairs, listening all the while for band members.  

You stopped by the kitchen for a coffee and ran into Freddy when you opened the lower cupboard to grab a lid to take your coffee with you. Managing not to react too wildly you grinned at him and asked if Roger was seeking now. Freddie nodded and Mr. Taylor came in from counting outside to find you putting the lid on your coffee thermos having closed Freddy's hiding spot back up.

"Well if it isn't my newly declared hide and seek enemy," Roger greeted you with fake hurt puppy eyes.

"All is fair in love and war Mr. Taylor" you said, sipping your coffee you grimimced then turned around to grab some sugar to add to the bitter bean water, knowing exactly what held the drummer's gaze now that you were facing away from him.

"Maybe," Roger said slowly, stalking towards you, "you and I could help each other….you know in the game" his pause implying the other game he was playing, with only you.

 He continued walking slowly toward you as you continued slowly walking backwards until your back hit the counter and he smirked. You set your coffee down and jumped up to sit on the counter, crossing your legs and picking your coffee back up.

Roger stopped at the counter you were seated on, placing his hands on the counter right up against your leg and under the crossed one. 

 "Perhaps you should make it up to me, losing me the game I mean" his thumbs coming up to rub your legs.

"What if I tell you where Freddy is currently hiding at this moment?" You asked, fighting a shiver from his rubbing.

"Mmm I had something else in mind but I suppose that will do for now." His hands came up to rest on your still crossed legs, making it abundantly clear to you what else he had had in mind.

"Mr. Taylor it is a bit unprofessional to put your hands on a working intern as you have today-"

"Are you saying this?" He gestured with his head, "professionally does nothing for you?" He grinned cockily.

"What I'm saying is that A. I'm not a groupie, I'm here to work in a field I enjoy, B. I'm not one of your countless harlots, C. You're just horny because you've been here a few weeks and I'm the only female in a hundred miles and D." You leaned in close to his ear as Freddy silently closed his cupboard door and tiptoed to a different hiding spot, "you are a terrible seeker" you leaned back to sip your coffee.

"Well I convinced you to tell me where Freddy is, so I can't be that bad, speaking of which Love, you have yet to actually tell me where he's hiding, unless you want me to...continue convincing..."

"The cupboard, behind you."

Roger opened the cupboards behind him to find nothing. 

 Turning back to you, his face like that of a predator, stalking his prey; his eyes looking straight through your bones to your core. Uncrossing your legs to get down, Roger walked back up to you in one long stride, leaning right up against the counter, pushing your legs apart with his hips as he did so, causing you to fall back, catching yourself on one hand. Caught off guard you set your coffee down perhaps harder than you meant to and put your other hand on his warm chest to prevent him from getting closer than he already was.

"You lied"

"I said I could tell you where he was at that exact moment, he moved since then, while you were...preoccupied."

Placing his hands on your hips his eyes bore into you, "well then I suppose you still owe me for costing me my title at world champion hider. Do you have a preference as to when I should collect?"

Roger smirked as though you were trapped when really you knew all you had to do was say 'no' and he would back down immediately….though you never would.

"Mr. Taylor, I wonder if you could perhaps be more specific as to what sort of debt I am owing you, then I could be more helpful-"

Roger Taylor's soft lips cut you off, sampling the coffee in your mouth and you sighed into the kiss.  

"Sorry Love, couldn't play our game much longer with you looking so fucking delicious," Roger pulled away to gauge the situation, wanting to make certain he wasn't crowding you.

"Oh-ho no, you don't get to do that and just walk away mister! Get back in here!" You ordered him, snapping him back to you with your legs.

"Yes Ma'am," Roger saluted, clearly bemused by your little show of dominance. He slid his hands under you and turned to leave the kitchen.

"And just where are we headed now?" You inquired, tying your legs around him, doing your best to hide your smile at his cockiness.

"Ahh well, I just thought- I mean I..maybe," confidence gone he stuttered "we were-umm going for a swim?" His eyes fell on your towel.

"Good answer, now let's go 'swim' before the rest of Queen realizes you're not actively seeking them."

His smile returned a bit shy as he stopped and fell into your eyes before the words "so fucking gorgeous" whispered from under his breath causing your cheeks to heat up.

[holy-stevie]

Remembering Jeff

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: Y/n and Tony are mourning Jeff, Steve is sick of the stupid games and takes what he wants. 

Warnings: Small bit of angst, SMUT, this is FILTHY, blowjob, face-fucking, captain kink, spitting, Ransom (yes he gets a warning).

Word Count: 1.2k

a/n: This was requested by the lovely @donutloverxo​ ma’am i went so far off the request i’m sorry i couldn’t stop. 

New to this series? Here! 1 2 

Masterlist

Please do not repost my work anywhere else!

“I don’t know how to go on Y/n..” Tony cries through his hands, his crumpled form leaning into your side as you both sit in your bed watching movies on a Saturday night. You pat his back in sympathy, understanding what he’s going through.

“I know it’s hard, hell I miss him so much, but we have to move on.” You say, ignoring the snickers from the cuddling couple on the beanbag at the foot of your bed.

“He was taken away from us so suddenly, I can’t.” Tony cries again, this time snuggling into you further and crying onto your t-shirt. Entering the room, Steve rolls his eyes at the pair of you crying into each other’s arms like it wasn’t just a dumb pineapple that they replaced weekly.

“Are you two still crying?” He asks in annoyance setting down a pizza box, ignoring Sam and Bucky giggling into each other’s ears, rounding the bed to slide in next to you. Tony growls lightly and pulls you closer to him as he eyes your boyfriend trying to steal you from him.

“Get your own cuddle buddy Rogers.” He says, sniffling quietly making you coo and sling your arm around him softly.

“She is my cuddle buddy! She’s my girlfriend.” Steve says in irritation, his nostrils flaring in jealously as he watches you dot on Tony. You just smile at both of them and hold an arm out to Steve, pressing your face into the side of his neck when he settles next to you with a grumpy frown. Bucky clicks his phone a few times before a random movie title stretches across your tv screen.

“Knives out?” Steve asks with a confused glance to Bucky, the winter soldier just shrugs before settling back in with Sam. The group is quiet until a certain character appears on screen.

“Bucky pause it oh my god!” You leap up from Steve’s arms, Tony sitting up with you.

“He looks exactly like Steve!” Tony says with a cackle, Steve groans behind you as Bucky hits play again.

‘Hugh Drysdale?’

‘Ransom call me Ransom, only the help calls me Hugh.’

“Oh, I’ll definitely call him Hugh.” You mumble out making Sam and Tony laugh, you grin up at Steve’s annoyed face with glee, from the way his jaw was clenching you knew you were in for a long night once the others left. Steve just sighs and leans forward and flicks the pizza box open, revealing the ham and pineapple pizza. Hearing Tony’s whimper you draw your eyes away from the delicious looking brunette to Steve, gasping loudly as you watch him take a big bite out of his slice, several chunks of pineapple being murdered.

“NO JEFF! STEVE HOW COULD YOU” Tony yells getting up from the bed to point his finger at Steve, the man in question just raises an eyebrow at the short man in annoyance. You sit back against the headboard as you watch Tony yell at Steve, grinning until you see the anger growing in Steve’s eyes.

“That’s it. All of you, get the fuck out.” He growls out, the cold stern voice of the captain making the boys blink before all three of them race out of your bedroom door, Bucky snatching up the pizza box on his way out. Steve sits on the edge of the bed facing away from you and lowers his head into his hands, you bite your lip as you notice the tension in his shoulders.

“Stevie?” You mumble, climbing off the bed to stand in front of him and sighing out when he lightly grabs your waist in his hands and buries his face into your soft stomach with a soft kiss and a whisper of “Mine.” Making you frown in guilt as you grip his chin in your hand to tip his face up to look at you.

“Always yours.” You say with a smile, making him smile tiredly. You look at his tense frame again before slowly lowering yourself to your knees, your face level with the waistline of his pants.

“Baby?” He asks as he watches your hands slide up his thighs softly, hands resting on the band of his boxers poking out above the grey sweats he’s wearing.

“You’re so tense baby, let me help you out.” You say licking your lips, he just nods down at you with a tense jaw and lifts his hips to help you rid him of his pants and boxers, his hardening cock landing lightly on his thigh before you wrap your soft hand around it and start pumping him.

“Relax my love.” You say mouthing along his shaft, licking up from the base until your tongue is twirling around his angry pink tip. You swallow him down as far as you can and hum at the sound of his startled moan, your tongue flat against the underside of him as you bob your head around his thick cock, your hand pumping the rest of the length that you can’t reach with your mouth. Steve moans and bucks his hips up lightly before restraining himself and stopping his movements, you frown and pull off with a long suck, your hand coming up to replace where your warm mouth was occupying as you speak.

“Don’t restrain yourself baby.” You mumble looking up at his darkening eyes, grinning wickedly as you lower your lips to hover over the tip as you speak softly.

“Fuck my face Captain.” Followed by a soft kiss to his tip. Steve growls and grips your hair in a tight fist as he leans down and pries your mouth open with his fingers before spitting into your warmth, you moan desperately and grin when he leans back up, looming over you isn’t Steve Rogers anymore. No Captain America stands above you with dark blown pupils and a dirty smirk as he grabs his cock and feeds it into your mouth inch by inch, groaning when he feels your tight throat stretch to accommodate him.

“Just like that.” He says before he starts snapping his hips into your face, holding your head still with his grip in your hair as he takes exactly what he wants. He throws his head back as he feels pleasure lick down his spine, settling in his balls as he snaps his hips into your face one last time and holds you there as he cums down your throat with a dirty growl of your name.

Coming down Steve lowers his eyes to your mouth and slowly drags his still hard cock out of your messy mouth, smiling darkly at the drool and cum dripping down your chin before you scoop it up in your fingers and suck them into your mouth. He tilts his head before yanking you up and pushing you onto your stomach, gripping your hips and pulling your ass up as his hand presses your face into the sheets. He leans down until his mouth is right next to your ear, kissing it teasingly as a full body shudder goes through you at his next words.

“You’re going to take Captain’s cock until you’re begging me to stop.”

Taglist: @scarletsoldierrr​ @chrisevans-imagines​ @patzammit​ @onetwo3000​ @yoncevans​ @harrysthiccthighss​ @sleepycevans​ @adriannajackson​ @donutloverxo​ @cloudninevans​ @smyfmj​ 

[wiypt-writes]

Stark Spangled Forever

Duo Shot: Stendhal Syndrome Part 1: Brat

Intro: It’s Rori’s fifth birthday party, and there’s someone there who Katie doesn’t really appreciate hanging round her man. And Steve doesn’t really appreciate Katie’s attitude either.

Uh Oh….

Warnings: Bad language.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

A/N: This was a one shot. I got carried away and wrote 24 pages. So now you have a duo shot thanks to that photo sending me to a dirty place. No smut in this one…but it’s on its way in the next part! 

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Stark Spangled Forever Masterlist // Main Masterlist

 May 2029

“Katie…” Steve called up the stairs. He waited for a moment. There was no response. “Honey?”

Still nothing.

He bounded up the steps, taking them two at a time and headed over the landing and into their room. He paused in the doorway, smiling gently as he saw his wife curled upon the bed, Harry snuggled into her, his head tucked under her chin as they both slept. He wasn’t surprised they were both flat out. They’d had a rough time with the tot the previous night. He had woken up at about 2 am crying and Steve had gone into find both he and his bed full of vomit. After they’d cleaned him up he’d continued to be sick, grumpy and teary, and hadn’t settled even when they’d brought him into bed with them. Eventually Katie had given up and taken him downstairs. Steve had initially gotten up with them but Katie had sent him back to bed pointing out that one of them needed to be with it enough to look after the others the day after. It was also an unspoken fact that they both knew Harry wouldn’t settle for his dad when he was like this. Steve thought Jamie was a momma’s boy but that was nothing compared to their youngest.

He gently closed the door and headed back downstairs and into the den where Jamie was sat cross legged on the rug faffing with some Lego and Rori was perched watching The Wizard of Oz.

“Guys, what do you fancy for lunch?”

“Are you making it?” Jamie looked up at him. Steve snorted.

“Fraid so pal. Momma’s asleep with Harry.”

“Is Harry still sick?” Rori looked around, her eyes wide.

“He’s ok sweetie.” Steve assured her “He just has a tummy bug.”

“Or he ate your cooking.” Emmy said from behind Steve as she passed him heading into the kitchen.

“Enough cheek thank you.” Steve said, raising an eyebrow at her back. He heard her chuckle as she opened the fridge.

“Jamie its ok…” she called “There’s left over lasagne.”

“Yesss.” Jamie said, jumping up off the rug. “Mom’s lasagne is the best.”

“Daddy?” Rori spoke again, her round green eyes looking at Steve.

“Yes baby?”

“Will Harry be ok for my birthday party?”

Steve noticed her biting her lip, the same expression Katie wore when she was worried. With a soft chuckle he crossed the room and knelt down in front of her. “Of course he will, it’s not for another week yet.”

She considered his answer and nodded. Steve reached out and gently tucked her dark hair behind her ears. It was then he noticed her lip wobbling.

“Hey…” he said, frowning, as he stood up to sit besides her. She crawled onto his lap and tucked her face into his shirt “What’s wrong?” She sniffled slightly and pressed her face further into his chest. Steve gently rubbed her back and stayed still waiting for her to speak.

“Jemima at school…” she sniffled, and Steve took a deep breath. He knew where this was going. “Her brother got sick and he dieded.” “Ok…” he said gently, “Jemima’s brother was very poorly. Harry just has a tummy bug. I promise you Rori, he’s not going to die.” She sniffed again and looked up at him “Pinkie promise?”

He smiled and held up his hand, little finger extended “pinkie promise.” She mimicked him and intertwined her small finger with his before she reached up and wrapped her arms round his neck, nuzzling her head into the space against his cheek.

“Why is your face always scratchy?” she asked and Steve gave a laugh.

“Blame your Momma, she won’t let me shave.” he said and Rori pulled back, her little hands raking into his beard. He playfully snapped at her fingers with his teeth, a loud clicking noise sounding as he bit onto thin air and she giggled.

“You gonna come get some lunch?” he looked at her. She nodded and he stood up with her in his arms, carrying her through to the kitchen where Emmy was already halfway through making a salad to go with the leftovers which were heating in the microwave.

“Thanks Em.” Steve said, dropping Rori onto a chair by the table before he moved over to grab some plates.

“Think we should save mom some?”

“No it’s ok.” Steve shook his head “if she’s hungry when she wakes I’ll make her a sandwich.”

Emmy nodded. “Oh, I thought Peter and Brooke could come over later, if that’s ok? I mean, if Harry’s not still sick.” “They can come over anyway, it’s fine.” Steve said, “Harry will most likely be upstairs anyway.”

“We were just gonna hang out by the pool for the evening…” “Em.” Steve chuckled “It’s fine…” and then he paused and smirked slightly as he looked at her “You want the beer don’t you?”

She wrinkled her nose and nodded.

“There’s plenty in the bar…just don’t get that drunk one of you drowns.” he said after a pause. “Explaining that to Peter’s Aunt or Jennifer would be a bit awkward.”

“Thanks dad.” she smiled at him.

They ate their lunch, the 4 of them chatting away, Steve pleased to see Rori was settled now, her earlier upset forgotten. Once they were finished Emmy took Rori and Jamie out into the garden to play on the jungle gym whilst Steve cleared the dishes. Every so often he glanced out of the window to see the kids playing a soft smile on his face. He enjoyed days like this, weekends or during the holidays when they were all together. It was just a shame their brother was too poorly to join in. He called out of the open door to tell Emmy he was nipping upstairs before he repeated the journey he had taken a little over and hour ago, checking his watch.

Katie glanced up as he opened the door, her finger on her lips.

“Hey…” he whispered.

She smiled and gave a soft yawn “How long have I been asleep?”

“Not sure sweetheart.” he said, “I came up about an hour or so ago and you were flat out.”

She gave another yawn and Harry stirred gently, his hand rubbing at his eyes before he settled back down. Katie gently felt his head.

“He’s not as warm as he was.” she said as Steve gently perched on the bed, smoothing back his son’s dark blonde hair.

“Rori got really upset.” he said, smiling softly “She mentioned Jemima’s brother.”

Katie sighed and frowned “Yeah. It was hard trying to explain that when we heard the news. Is she ok?”

“She’s fine.” he assured her “Gave her a pinkie promise Harry only had a tummy bug so.”

“Daddy’s girl.” she smiled and Steve gave a gentle chuckle.

“Peter and Brooke are coming over later.” he said “Emmy wants to hang out in the pool house with a few beers.” Katie smirked “You’re definitely going soft in your old age.”

“Well Emmy is 21 now so I can’t stop her and as for Pete and Brooke, well, sooner they do it here than in a bar.” he shrugged. “You want some lunch?”

Katie shook her head “I’ll eat later.”

Harry stirred again, only this time he grumbled slightly and blinked, opening his eyes sleepily. He looked at his momma before he nuzzled into her closer, his hand winding into her hair as he started to grizzle slightly.

“Hey baby…” she said, kissing his head.

He mumbled something again, his noises not quite forming into words yet, still being half asleep, and then he turned his head to peek up at his dad.

“You ok Pal?”

Harry eyed him for a moment before he moved and held out his arms in Steve’s direction. Slightly surprised Steve moved to take him in an embrace as the little boy snuggled into his chest and Steve kissed his head. Katie smiled, the sight of Steve with his kids was something she would never get tired of. Being a father brought out all his best qualities, just like the serum had amplified them, having kids had too.  He was loving, patient, gentle yet strong, stern and happy to deal out the discipline when appropriate.

She sat up, pecking him on the cheek at the point where his beard met smooth skin. “You know you might not have the shield anymore but you’ll always be their superhero.”

********

Much to Rori’s relief (and everyone else in the Rogers household for that matter) Harry’s illness only lasted 24 hours and he was back to his cheeky, happy little self the next morning. Arrangements pressed ahead for the party, it wasn’t a huge gathering-namely Rori’s closest friends from school and family- which was to take place the weekend before her birthday.  As she shared her day of birth with her late uncle, Katie always found the day a little bittersweet but she tried to keep any of her sadness and nostalgia at bay for the sake of her little girl and focus on the celebration instead.

By 2pm in the afternoon their garden was packed with 7 other 5 year olds, a couple of parents and the usual additional suspects, namely Morgan and Pepper, Jennifer and Brooke along with Bucky and Sam. Rori had stipulated that she didn’t want any games or anything, just to play in the garden on a bouncy castle with some “Princess Punch” which was basically pink lemonade full of chopped up strawberries and raspberries, something her dad had made her one day and she insisted that no one else could make it the same. So, that’s what she had gotten.

“So who’s the blonde Katie’s throwing shade at?” Sam asked as Steve handed him a beer. Steve groaned. Rori’s best friend, a girl called Aurelia was obviously at the party. And so was her mother. A certain Dani-with-an-I, the real-estator who had shown them around the first house they had looked at in Brooklyn all those years ago But, as Steve knew only too well, his wife held a grudge better than anyone he had ever met in his life.

Ever.

Sam gave a loud snort of laughter as Steve explained about the whole incident when they’d been looking round the house and Dani flirting with him whilst Bucky took another Asgardian beer from the stack Steve had placed in a specific chiller in the garage and popped the top off effortlessly with his metal hand. The three men emerged out of the side door back onto the garden, taking up their spot by the side of the garden overseeing the proceedings whilst the women were perched on the decking which ran flush along the back of the house. Katie was milling around the garden somewhere, making sure everyone was ok.

“Bet that makes for interesting conversations when Aurelia comes for sleepovers…” Bucky mused.

“Katie’s not callous enough to have issues with a child simply because she doesn’t like her mother.” Steve shook his head, immediately defending his wife. “In fact she’s nothing but welcoming to her, she’s Rori’s friend after all. She just keeps any exchanges between her and Dani to a minimum.”

“Well, you best watch your back…” Sam said “Because it looks like she’s heading over.”

Steve sighed and spun round to face Dani as she approached him.

“Hi Steve…”

“Hey Dani.” he said “Everything ok.”

“I don’t want to cause a fuss but, well Jamie and Morgan are causing a bit of an issue.”

“Issue?” Steve frowned. At that point Rori came running over to him, tears flooding from her face. “Princess…” he crouched down. “What’s wrong?”

“Jamie and Morgan are throwing those little ball thingies that bang at everyone!” Rori said, stamping her feet. Steve glared up at Bucky.

“I told you not to give him those!” “I aint given him any for weeks!” Bucky held his hands up. “He’s clearly stashed them…I’m sorry Rori…”

“What have you done now?” Bucky turned to see Katie stood there, her eyebrows raised, sunglasses perched on her head as they acted like a headband, keeping her long hair off her face.

“Given Jamie contraband.” Sam said.

“Those damned firecrackers?”

Bucky shrugged.

“You’re an ass.” she said to him as she crouched down to look at Rori. “You ok sweetie?”

“He keeps throwing them at me!” she yelled.

“Ok…” Katie soothed her, and Steve took the opportunity to glance at his wife. She still knocked him off his feet after all these years. Her make-up was light, leaving those freckles he adored on show, and the pale yellow and blue maxi dress she was wearing complimented her amazing figure and curves to perfection, leaving her shoulders bare bar the thin spaghetti straps which crossed at the back. And it was low cut enough that Steve could see a fair bit of sideboob as well. Which he would never complain about. She turned to Steve, raised her eyebrow as his gaze lifted from her chest to her eyes. “Did you hear a word of that?”

“No.” he said honestly. She snorted.

“I just said that you’d go and speak to Jamie and Morgan.” she said, nodding to Rori.

“I’ll deal with your brother, I promise…” Steve confirmed “Go and play and don’t worry about it…”

He wiped her tears away with his hands, gave her a kiss and stood up

“Where are they?”

“By the side of the pool house.” Katie responded at the same time Dani said the same thing.

“We got it, thanks…” Katie looked at the woman. She nodded and sidled off, Steve ignored the look of utter glee that Sam and Bucky shared at the fact Katie was getting all “Starky Snarky” as Sam called it. Katie watched her leave before she turned back to Steve, ignoring the look he was giving her. “Spotted the little shits before.” she continued “They’re trying to hide behind the stack of sun-loungers”

He nodded, dropped a kiss to Katie’s lips and headed off to find the trouble makers. He took the long way, striding round the edge of the pool so they wouldn’t see him coming. He stood simply watching them for a moment. Jamie and Morgan were thick as thieves. With little over a year between them, they’d practically grown up as brother and sister, which Steve and Katie loved, but they were a recipe for trouble. With Morgan’s cleverness and Jamie’s penchant for mischief they made a right pair. Jamie said something to Morgan and she sniggered and they both stood up which was when Steve made his move. He gently grabbed Jamie’s collar and the back of Morgan’s top, pulling them back, ignoring their yells of protest as he bent over.

“If you two don’t stop right now, you’re gonna be in big trouble.” his voice was low and steely as he spoke and the pair of them stiffened slightly. He let go and stood up, hands on his hips.

“Dad, we were only-“

“Son…” Steve cut him off, holding his hand up in an instruction to stay quiet “Just don’t.” He held his palm out in front of him “Hand em over…”

With a sigh and a scowl Jamie emptied his pockets, Morgan following suit and they both passed Steve the small boxes of the little white firecrackers.

“I mean it you two. One more toe out of line…”

“Sorry Uncle Spangles.” Morgan bowed her head.

“It isn’t me you should be apologising to” he said, looking at the 10 year old. She was getting more and more like Tony with each day that passed. He felt a little pang for his brother-in-law as he looked into her brown eyes and took a deep breath, his voice softer when he spoke again “Go and say sorry to Rori, both of you.”

********

“What’s Morgan done?” Pepper asked as Katie headed up to the decking.

Katie snorted “Her and Jamie have been throwing firecrackers.”

Pepper groaned “I’ll have a word…”

“It’s ok… Steve’s sorting it.” Katie shrugged “No biggie, just being kids…”

“I don’t understand how she can be so like Tony when he’s not around.” Pepper said gently.

“Stark DNA.” Katie grinned, “it’s strong.”

Pepper snorted. “Yeah, it must be.”

The two women watched as Steve spoke to the kids, taking the boxes off them before dismissing them. He strode across the lawn, looked up at Katie and gave her a smile before he made his way into the garage to dispose of the offensive ‘weapons’.

“Where did they even get them from?” Pepper asked.

“Bucky” answered Jennifer and Katie the same time. Katie glanced back over the garden, everything seemed to be back to normal. Her eyes fell on Dani who was now stood with one of the other mums that Katie had been speaking to earlier.

“Who’s that?” Jennifer asked.

“Some tramp.” Katie shrugged.

“Her name is Dani.” Pepper snorted “With an I…”

“Was she the last Trashbag you had to take out one morning?” Katie asked. “She mentioned something about that last time I met her and she does look a familiar.”

Pepper snorted. “No…she never got there. Not for the lack of trying. But you’re right, she does look a little like Christine Everhart.”

“Of course…” Katie snorted, “Christine…”

Katie wandered through from the kitchen in her cami and short pyjama set, clutching a bowl of cereal, groaning at the raging headache she was sporting. She was visiting home for a week or so to attend the Apogee Award ceremony in Vegas, which was honouring her brother. Pity he hadn’t actually cared enough to attend himself, instead living it up in the Casino. Obediah had accepted the award for him and then she’d continued drinking with the rest of the party that had turned up…and continued the drinking on the private jet home.  As she shuffled into the living area, she stopped dead looking at the blonde woman, dressed in nothing but one of Tony’s shirts as she sloped around their living area. Another one of Tony’s bimbos that he picked up in Vegas and flown home with them. Said bimbo made her way over to the pad that led to the workshop and pressed a few buttons.

“Hey, Tony?”

“You are not authorized to access this area.” Jarvis said, making her scream and jump. Katie sniggered.

“Jesus.” the woman said.

“No, JARVIS…” Katie spoke loudly and the woman span around. “He runs the house.”

“You must be Katie…”

“And you must be Miss Saturday.” Katie shrugged, sitting on the sofa “Well, for this week anyway…”

“Christine…” she said. “We met last night…”

“Yeah I don’t bother learning names.” Katie shrugged. “They never last long enough for me to give a shit.”

At that point Pepper walked into the room holding up a clothes carrier.

“I’ve got your clothes here. They’ve been dry-cleaned and pressed, and there’s a car waiting for you outside that will take you anywhere you’d like to go.” She said, smiling at the woman.

“You must be the famous Pepper Potts.”

“Indeed I am.” Pepper smiled.

“After all these years, Tony still has you picking up the dry-cleaning.” she commented sarcastically.

“Bitch.” Katie said loudly. Christine looked at her but Pepper simply remained still and smiled, her tone pleasant and even.

“I do anything and everything that Mr. Stark requires, including, occasionally, taking out the trash.”

At that Katie choked slightly on her cereal and looked up as the smug bint’s smirk slid off her face.

“Will that be all?” Pepper asked.

Christine took the hangar and sidled off.

“Taking out the trash…” Katie grinned “Pepper that was fucking genius!”

Pepper arched an eyebrow.

“Where is my dickhead brother?”

“Where do you think?” Pepper asked.

Katie hummed and put down her empty cereal bowl before she made her way through the door Christine had been trying to unlock and down to Tony’s workshop.

“JARVIS, lower that racket…” she muttered.

“Certainly Miss Stark…” 

The noise dimmed and Tony wheeled round “Please don’t turn down my music” “Good morning to you too.” Katie rolled her eyes “Last night’s conquest has left. Pepper just threw her out.”

“Speaking of which, you are supposed to be halfway around the world right now.” Pepper appeared but Tony wasn’t listening.

“How’d she take it?” He looked at Katie. 

“Like a champ.” she shrugged.

Tony grinned and then turned to Pepper “Why are you trying to hustle me out of here?”

“Your flight was scheduled to leave an hour and a half ago.”

“That’s funny, I thought with it being my plane and all, that it would just wait for me to get there.” Tony quipped sarcastically.

“Tony, I need to speak to you about a couple things before I get you out of the door”

“Doesn’t it kind of defeat the whole purpose of having your own plane if it departs before you arrive?” Tony continue and then Pepper’s voice rose.

At that point Katie groaned and decided she needed to go to bed before she split for her own flight home and left them to it. 24 hours later she was back in London, getting the notice from Rhodey that Tony was missing…

Laughter dragged Katie back out of her memory and she wiped her eyes slightly, memories of her brother still hit her hard. She turned to catch the last of Pepper’s explanation about Dani’s ‘antics’ at a Stark Party once to which Jennifer, Emmy and Brooke were all laughing along with as Pepper glanced at Katie.

“What is she doing here anyway?”

“Well, her daughter happens to be Rori’s bestest friend in the whole world.” Katie said, repeating the words Rori used to describe Aurelia her “And of course when I asked a few parents on the invites to join, she jumped at the chance.”

There was a pause as they all continued to watch the woman as she tilted her head back and laughed at something that one of the other mom’s had said.

“Is her hair even real?” Emmy asked suddenly.

“Nope. And neither are her tits…” Jennifer mumbled. “Aint no way she’s had a kid and they’re still…” she grabbed her own breasts and hoisted them up, causing all the women to snigger into their drinks.

“Momma?” Katie spun to look at Rori who was grinning up at her mum.

“Hey sweetie” Katie smiled, crouching down “You ok now?”

Rori nodded “Please can I get a drink?”

“Course you can baby…” Katie smiled “Why don’t you go ask daddy to grab you some of the Princess Punch?”

She gave her daughter a kiss on the cheek before she skipped off down the lawn to where Steve was stood with Bucky and Sam. Katie watched as he immediately looked down when Rori tugged at his black jeans. With a huge, genuine smile he swept her up, her legs causing Steve’s sweater to ride up and at the flash of his toned stomach Katie bit her lip.

“Down girl..” Jennifer mumbled and Katie snorted.

“That obvious?”

“You’re not exactly subtle…” Pepper smirked “That’s the Stark in you.”

Behind her she heard Emmy groan before Brooke quipped “Em, not being funny, but your dad is hot.”

“Fuck off.” Emmy shot back as Brooke cackled “That’s disgusting.”

“His best friend ain’t bad either…” Jenifer mused, cocking her head to one side as Bucky reached up to gently ruffle Rori’s hair, and then tilting his head towards her as she reached to do the same to him, a huge smile spreading across his face.

“Eww.” Brooke groaned, and this time it was Emmy’s turn to laugh.

“Speaking of which, where’s Peter?” Katie turned to Emmy.

“He’s dropping May and Happy at the airport and coming down later…” she said, a faint pink tinge on her cheeks. Katie looked at Pepper, the pair of them smiling to one another. Emmy and Peter had been pretty on and off over the last 5 years but seemed to have been going pretty steady over the last 12 months.

“Which reminds me, can you tell Dad and Tweedle Dum and Tweedle Dee to behave?” Emmy looked at her mum “They’re always teasing Pete…” “That is a right of passage.” Pepper said wisely “Tony was a shit to Steve when he started dating Katie.” “Tony was a shit to Steve way before that.” Katie grinned “But I gotta admit, he was never that pleased about how he found out.” “Which was?” Jennifer looked her.

“He walked in and found us in the kitchen half dressed…” Katie shrugged “Was his own fault, he should have knocked instead of swanning into my apartment like he owned it.” “Yeah, I don’t…” Emmy started before she shook her head “Shut up!”

“Erm, where are you two off to?” Katie heard Pepper say and she looked up to see Morgan and Jamie half in, half out of the kitchen door.

“The den Auntie Pep.” Jamie answered. “Gonna go watch a film.”

“Least you can’t cause any trouble in there…yes, I heard.” Pepper said sternly “Another toe out of line Morgan H Stark and I’ll take you home.”

“Sorry Mom…” she said, and Pepper dismissed her.

Katie smiled again and her attention turned back to the party. She glanced over the garden and was just about to head down to mingle again, not wanting to leave the rest of the parents feeling awkward when a certain blonde haired tramp caught her attention. She watched her for a moment as she walked over to Steve and then stiffened slightly as she touched his arm, but then she stepped way over the line.

“Oh hell no bitch…” Katie’s eyes narrowed as she saw Dani kiss Steve’s cheek.

“Kick her ass mom…” Emmy mumbled.

“Hold my beer…” Katie said, before she paused “Actually, on second thoughts… I’ll take the beer with me…”

“$50 dollars says Trashbag is leaving here in a box…” Brooke quipped. Pepper, Jennifer and Emmy all sniggered.

********

After getting Rori a glass of punch and retrieving another 3 beers for him, Sam and Bucky, Steve headed back across the lawn, Rori still following him.

“Daddy…” she spoke again.

“Yeah?” he looked at her.

“What are tits?”

Steve choked on his beer and heard Sam’s guffawing laughter from the side of him, punctuated by Bucky’s snorts.

“Ermmm…” Steve wiped at his sweater where his beer had slopped down the front and racked his brains “They’re a type of bird…” The laugher and snorts grew even louder. Steve looked at Rori who was frowning before she shook her head “Why would Aurelia’s mommy have fake birds?”

At that Sam began to cough, and Steve looked at him. He was doubled over, slapping his knees. Bucky was wiping his eyes and gave Steve a thumbs up. “Fake birds, I can’t…”  Bucky’s hand fell to Sam’s back as the pair of them continued to laugh.

“I don’t know…” Steve looked at Rori. “Who said that anyway?”

“Jennifer.” she said, and Steve rolled his eyes and glanced over at his wife who was stood, looking out over the garden. “Well Jennifer is just being silly.” Steve looked back at Rori “Don’t worry about it.”

Rori accepted his answer and ran off.

“You can stop laughing now.” he turned to his friends.

“Man, I love your kids.” Bucky said as Sam straightened up, wiping his eyes.

“Yeah well right now they’re behaving better than their mother.” Steve frowned.

“I dare you to say that to her face.” Bucky smirked “And whilst you’re at it, you can tell Jennifer you think she’s silly…”

Steve shook his head “I’m quite attached to my balls thanks, and I’d like to keep it that way.”

“Good luck with that…” Sam said, “Blonde haired real estator at 12 o’clock.”

Steve let out a silent groan, he really didn’t need this.

“Steve…” he felt an hand on his arm.

“Yeah?” he turned to face Dani, polite as always.

“I’m sorry about before,I didn’t want to get the kids into trouble.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Steve shrugged “Jamie and Morgan are a handful together.”

Dani laughed, and then stood on her tip toes to kiss his cheek. Steve hadn’t seen that coming. He stepped away slightly and gave her a smile as she looked at him.

“Well, Aurelia was really upset so thank you for sorting it out…”

“Wife…6 o’clock…” Bucky mumbled. But he needn’t have bothered, Steve knew his wife was behind him even before she slipped her arms round his waist, the hand that wasn’t clutching the beer bottle gently slipping under his black sweater, rubbing his stomach softly. He smiled to himself, knowing full well she was here to make a point, and gently placed his large hand over hers.

“Hey beautiful.” he said softly and Katie felt that fire in her belly light even more at his soft words.

“Hey…” she mumbled, pressing her face into his back, gently kissing between his shoulder blades through his sweater before she moved and slid into the space under his arm, placing herself between him and Dani. Steve rolled his eyes at his wife’s passive aggressive display of possessiveness and glanced at Sam who was grinning ear to ear, watching the exchange.

“You know, Mrs Rogers…” Dani smiled at Katie, ”I was just wondering if we were past the formalities of using our surnames now seeing as our daughters are inseparable? ”

She started to laugh and Katie continued to smile before she replied “Nope, I’m good with Mrs Rogers thanks.

Sam started to cough, which was clearly to cover up a laugh. Steve looked at him to see him smirking ear to ear.

“How’s your husband?” Katie looked Dani. “I don’t see him…”

“We’re not together anymore.” Dani said, her smile faltering slightly

“Oh, sorry to her that.” Katie replied, although her tone said otherwise “Guess he wasn’t a fan of you touching what doesn’t belong to you either.”

Dani’s face slipped, but luckily for her one of the other mom’s called her name and she excused herself. Katie watched her go before she felt Steve move his arm from her shoulders.

“That was mean.” he looked at Katie, his brow furrowed.

“I don’t like people touching my stuff…” Katie shrugged.

“You’re a fucking brat.” Steve said sternly, his face displaying no humour. Katie was completely unabashed by his tone and shrugged again

“I warned her last time I’d snap her hand off. She got off lightly.”

With that she turned and walked back towards Pepper and Jennifer. Steve watched her go, his face flushed with anger at her childish display.

“Damned…” Bucky whistled out. “I know you said she could be vicious, Steve, but wow…”

“I think that’s called marking your territory.” Sam quipped as Steve shook his head, the nerve in his jaw twitching.

“It’s called being rude.” He said, before he drained his beer and tossed the empty into one of the recycling tubs by the table “Scuse me fellas, I need to go have a word with my wife…” Bucky and Sam watched as he strode across the lawn, hand pushing his hair back off his face. He reached Katie, acknowledge the women before he gently wrapped his hand around her arm and bent to speak into her ear. She looked at him, frowned, and then allowed him to lead her inside.

“So now they’re gonna have a row and then angry sex, right?” Bucky looked at Sam. Sam nodded.

“Totally…shall we join the ladies?”

“Good idea.” Bucky agreed.

*******

“Uh oh Dad’s approaching…” Emmy said to her mum.

“Is he pissed?” Katie asked, grimacing slightly. As soon as he’d chastised her before she knew he wouldn’t leave it there and she was going to get a lecture about her attitude.

“He’s wearing his Captain’s face…” Emmy wrinkled her nose.

“Shit…”

“A word, inside now…” Steve’s voice was quiet, calm and level as he gently gripped Katie’s arm, but she recognised the icy tone it carried. Frowning slightly, she let him take her hand as he led her inside and through to the lounge. Steve shut the door behind him and Katie watched him, cocking her head to the side.

“Was there any need for that?” he said looking at her.

“For what?”

“You know damned well what.” he said, his voice still low as he raised an eyebrow “What you said to Dani, it was rude.”

“Whatever.” Katie rolled her eyes.

“Don’t roll your eyes at me…”

“Don’t speak to me like I’m one of the kids…” she shot back, her voice slightly louder.

“Well stop acting like one of them.” Steve’s hands dropped to his hips. “The dig about her husband was awful, you do realise he cheated on her right?”

Katie’s face slipped a little “No, I didn’t…but, hang on, how do you know that?”

“She told me, the other week when I dropped Aurelia off home.”

“Oh so you’re like friends now, she confiding in you?”  Katie’s tone was steely.

“No, she just mentioned that she was grateful for us having Aurelia because she’d had an appointment with the solicitor. So maybe, just maybe you should think about apologising.”

“Piss off…” Katie laughed in disbelief. “She kissed you on the cheek…”

“And?” Steve frowned “You forget that plenty of guys do that to you…”

“My or our friends, yeah. She is NOT my friend Steve…”

“Do you seriously feel that threatened by her you have to be so downright nasty?”

“I’m not threatened…look, like I said before, I told her last time she touched my stuff again and I’d snap her wrist. She got off lightly.”

Steve shook his head at his wife, he loved the bones of this woman but sometimes her behaviour drove him up the wall. She could be so petty and obtuse it was ridiculous.

Rogers by name, Stark by nature.

There was a tense silence which Katie broke.

“Are we arguing still?”

Steve sighed “I’m not arguing with you, I’m just pointing out I think you were out of line. If you don’t think you were then that’s your prerogative.” Katie hummed, before she grinned and looked at him “Wanna go fuck in the Camero like last time?”

Steve shook his head, she was unbelievable.

“No.” he said simply, turning to open the door. But Katie wasn’t giving up that easily.

“Shame, because I’m not wearing any panties.”

Ok so that got Steve’s attention. He let out an inward groan as frankly, that sex they’d had in the garage after the previous Dani incident had been hot as fuck but no, he wasn’t giving in here. What was it she always told the kids? “Actions have consequences”

Damned right they do sweetheart.

He turned back to face her, his back pressing to the door as he glanced down at his hands, the sleeves on his sweater were rolled up slightly exposing his forearms. He raised his gaze to meet that of his wife’s and damned, he nearly caved, because she really did turn him on more than she would ever know. But right now, he wasn’t giving her what she wanted.

He sighed and repeated his earlier statement to her “Such a fucking brat.” before he turned and walked out of the room.

Katie remained where she was, stunned. For the first time ever, in their 16 years of being together she had failed to seduce her man.

Part 2

[jobean12-blog]

Playing with Fire

Pairing: Bucky x reader

Word Count: 1,270

Summary: Being on vacation is all fun and games until someone gets sunburned! 

Author’s Note: This is for the HBC’s @the-ss-horniest-book-club Second Chance Drabble Challenge! The prompt I chose was #8: “Ok who do I have to ask for a sunburn fic with (character)? It’s summer time and I feel like we all could use some sweet Bucky Barnes or Steve Rogers either helping with the aloe or trying to have sex without touch the burned spots and it goes clumsy and funny and “ow-ow-ow it hurts right there!” Either way he whips his dick out fo sho.” And I went with Bucky on this one! I hope you like this, I live for Bucky on the beach so...yay! Thank you all for reading and much love always! ❤❤❤

Warnings: sexy, sassy and shirtless Bucky, flirting, teasing fun, light dirty talk, cursing, SMUT (18+ only please)

You watch as Bucky stands behind the volleyball net, his body poised for the serve and his teal blue bathing suit sitting low on his hips. It would be a lie if you said you weren’t enjoying the view of your boyfriend running around on the sand, sweat dripping down his chest and abs and his metal arm sparkling in the sun. Every time he stretches up to reach for the ball his suit hangs low and you get a glorious glimpse of the V shape of his abs and the trail of hair leading downward.

The sun is beating down on you all and making it almost impossible not to continuously go into the ocean to get wet and cool off. You’re just drying off from your latest dip when Bucky jogs toward you. “Hey doll. Can you reapply my sunblock please? I feel like I’m on fire.” Getting to your feet you look him up and down. “Oh, you’re on fire alright.”

He drags you into him, his sweat slick chest sliding against yours. “I’m glad you’re enjoying the show and there’s plenty more where that came from.” With a giggle you push him away and grab the sunblock, squirting it into your hands and rubbing some along his shoulders and back. You’re loving the job, turning him around and smoothing the left over on his pecs. “There you go Buck, should be good for a little while.”

Planting a firm kiss to your lips he runs back to the game, giving you a little wiggle on the way. The rest of the time you can tell he’s purposefully showing off, stretching between each volley and flexing every chance he gets. You playfully roll your eyes the next time he looks your way and he waggles his eyebrows suggestively.

After the game is finished everyone plops themselves on their beach towels for a much-needed snack. You sit between Bucky’s spread legs and lean against his chest. “Are you gonna play in the next game. I wouldn’t mind watching you bounce around on the sand.” You turn to face him and pick up your sunglasses, glaring at him. “Bounce around. Oh my god, Bucky. Really.” He laughs while rubbing his hands over your shoulders and down your chest. “Hands off buddy! I’m eating!”

Resting his head on your shoulder he whispers in your ear, “and I know what I’m gonna be eatin’ later.” Even under the scorching sun your body shivers at his words and you feel him squirm behind you. “I like the sound of that, but only after I get a taste” you say quietly, brushing your ass against his crotch.

“Ok, let’s go! Last round everybody!” Steve shouts from the towel he shares with Peggy. Bucky groans, trying to adjust himself discreetly before standing. “Let’s go babe. You owe me a show.” You take his extended hand and he hauls you up, crashing his lips to yours before smacking your ass. “Yeah!” he shouts, clearly enjoying himself.

Bucky actually misses a few shots because he can’t take his eyes off you while you play. You make sure to point it out every time, getting a kick out of his reactions. “You keep this up you’re gonna get it later, doll face.” Poking his chest, you lean in close, “oh I plan on it baby.” Sauntering off you join Nat for a drink, giggling over the boys who are grumbling about getting their butts kicked by the girls.

When it nears dinner time everyone goes off to their respective suites to shower and get ready to eat. You have Bucky pinned against the wall of the shower with his back resting against the cool tile. Kneeling between his legs you dip your hand inside, trying to free his already hard cock. You moan when you wrap your hand around the soft and warm skin, pulling on his hips so you can get his suit off.

His back rubs against the wall and he grimaces, quiet “ow’s” falling from his lips. You look up, concern washing over your features. “What’s wrong Buck? Are you ok?” He nods, combing his metal hand through your hair and tugging your face closer. You smirk and start working down his shorts. Feeling him tense up again you stand, leveling him with a stern look. “Bucky.” He wipes a hand down his face and groans, whining when he turns to show you his back. “I think I got sunburned and it hurts really bad, especially with my back rubbing against the wall.”

You frown, “wow, Buck. It’s really red. Shit. I guess we should have reapplied a third time.” Taking his face in your hands you bring him down for a kiss and it quickly heats up, his back hitting the wall as you deepen it. “Ow. Fuck this sunburn,” he cries against your lips. “Let’s shower and try the bed.” Helping each other wash you get out as soon as you can and Bucky quickly dries off, launching himself onto the bed with a loud, “OW!” You look over at him and shake your head. “Really? Did you forget about the sunburn already?”

Giving you a warning look he says, “I’m excited. Now get over here,” and he crooks his finger at you. You crawl to him on the bed, placing one knee on each side of his hips. Rocking yourself over his cock, you moan at the feel, kissing down his abs and settling between his legs. Your knees feel raw as they rub along the sheets and you shift to try and get comfortable, making a pained face. “What’s wrong doll? You ok?” he asks, giving you the same concerned expression, you gave him before.

“Yea I think so. It’s just every time my knees rub against the sheets it kinda hurts.” He sits up, pulling you into his lap so he can look at them. “Wow. They look pretty red. I didn’t even know knees could get sunburnt!?!” He pushes you forward to check your back, wincing when he sees how red it is. “Burnt there too huh? I thought I felt it under the shower”, you say, rolling your head onto his chest and letting out a big sigh. “This sucks. I’ve been thinking about this all damn day.”

He tightens his hold on you and yells, “you’ve been thinking about it all day!? It’s all I ever think about.” You laugh at him, snuggling closer and wiggling in his lap. He lets out a growl as his cock throbs beneath you. “Baby doll, we better figure something out and fast.” Sitting up with a wide grin you carefully get off him, motioning for him to sit at the edge of the bed.

With a curious look he does as you ask, spreading his thighs wide when you stand between them. “This should be fun,” you simper, kissing is lips before turning around. With your back to his chest you reach behind and take his cock in your hand, guiding it toward your entrance. Leaning forward slightly you slowly sink down, groaning as he stretches you. “Holy fuck,” he grinds out, his hands grasping your waist to hold you steady.

You still for a moment, loving the feel of him this deep. He squeezes your side and you rise up, slamming back down with enough force to make the bed bounce. As you pick up the pace, he brings his metal hand around to your front, settling his thumb against your clit and it isn’t long before you’re screaming his name, all thoughts of sunburn gone from existence.

@aesthetical-bucky @auro-ora @buckys-broody-muffin @buckys-minty-breath @book-dragon-13 @bugsbucky @breezy1415 @bucky-on-my-mind @chuuulip @eurynome827 @hiddles-rose @hawksmagnolia @hailmary-yramliah @itsunclebucky @ikaris-whore @imgaril-lindru @jhangelface0523 @jewels2876​ @kaosera​ @loricameback​ @lorilane33​ @littledarlinhavefaithinme​ @littleredstarfish​ @mushyjellybeans​ @marvelandotherfandomimagines​ @marvelgirl7​ @nano--raptor​ @randomfandompenguin​ @sallycanwait68​ @addikted-2-dopamine​ @softpeachbarnes​ @tuiccim​ @the-wayward-robot​ @when-the-hell-is-bucky​ @yansi1923​ @emilylyoness​ 

[superman86to99]

Superman #84 (December 1993)

Superman takes a short Paris vacation! Like, one day short. What's the worst that could happen?

Oh, man.

So, for the past few issues, we've been hearing about children being abducted in Metropolis. Now we see that they're being kept inside a giant toy house by some creepy bald man in Quasimodo clothes who seems to be obsessed with toys -- a "Man of Toys," if you will. Side note: no wonder the children haven't been found... all the articles about them are just gibberish! (See clip below.)

The kidnapper thinks that these kids' parents don't deserve them, and that they're much better off here, in an underground hideout with a man who threatens to starve them if they don't play with him. (And I do mean literally play, with action figures and stuff.) Meanwhile, as these children cry for help, Superman is having the time of his life. While helping move a stranded ship with some huge-ass chains, Superman spots a sunken galleon with a treasure chest inside and fantasizes about keeping the booty...

...before turning it over to the authorities anyway, the big boy scout. Then, he wakes up Lois at 6 AM and tells her they should go to Paris right now, which usually means your significant other is having a mental breakdown, but in this case they can actually do it. And so, after deciding that he deserves to use his powers for fun every once in a while, Superman and Lois drop everything and fly to France with super-speed for the rest of the day/issue.

Anyway: back to the child abduction! Cat Grant and her son Adam attend a Halloween party at Adam's school, but there's a disturbed weirdo in a hideous costume lurking among the crowd. Yes, I'm talking about Jimmy Olsen in his Turtle Boy suit.

Shortly after that, a guy in a dinosaur costume (see, all the creeps are dressed as reptiles) lures Adam out of the party with the promise of "superb video games." What child could resist that? Of course, that turns out to be the kidnapper and Adam ends up in his hideout along with the rest of the missing children and, worst of all, not a single "Lextendo" console.

The kidnapper gets angry at Adam when he refers to the toys at the hideout as "old-fashioned junk" (he was REALLY looking forward to those video games), and even angrier when Adam tries to free the other kids. Adam is brave and puts up a good fight, but...

And those were Adam Morgan's final words. "Uh-oh."

Next, we have a pretty harrowing scene of Detective Turpin letting Cat know Adam’s body was found, and Jimmy and Perry White taking her to the morgue to identify the body (most people probably wouldn't bring their former boss to something like that, but Perry sadly knows more than most about losing a kid). As for Lois and Clark, they were gone so long that the Daily Planet had time to print a headline about the murders. The issue ends when the lovebirds walk into the office smiling like two people who just spent the night fooling around in Paris... only to feel like jackasses when they find out what happened.

To be continued!

Character-Watch:

And that's it for little Adam Morgan who, unlike the also tragically diseased Jerry White, didn't even get any post-death appearances. Adam went from a little kid scared of Superman, to a huge brat, to a character who was approaching likeability as of last week. That's why I hate it when DC kills off young characters like Adam or Liam Harper: in long-form storytelling, children represent potential. Look at how much Wally West or Dick Grayson evolved over the years compared to their mentors! Sure, there's a huge probability that Adam would have ended up disappearing from comics for 25 years anyway, but who knows, maybe we'd now know him as Teen Gangbuster or something. GangbusTEEN.

This issue also represents a turning point for the kidnapper, who is never named or seen clearly in the story itself but I don't think I'm shocking anyone by spoiling the fact that he's Toyman (it's in the cover, for one thing). In his last two appearances before this storyline, Toyman helped Superman save some kids from Sleez and looked genuinely sad to learn about Superman's death, so this is a pretty dramatic change for the character. We'll find out why he went from big softy to child killer in Superman #85 (but don't get your hopes up).

Plotline-Watch:

The most disturbing part of the issue, all things considered, is still the part where Toyman climbs into a giant crib and hugs a huge stuffed bunny. Look at serial killer Tommy Pickles here:

Don Sparrow says:  “Even with the upgrade, Toyman is still just a man in a suit, a common complaint about Superman’s rogues gallery.” Funny you should say that, because I JUST shared an old Wizard interview in our Twitter in which Dan Jurgens talks about how Doomsday came out of his frustration with the fact that most Superman villains are dudes in suits (plus other interesting tidbits from the era, like how it was actually Roger Stern’s idea to bring back Hank Henshaw, so check out that link!).

Don again: “The entire Superman storyline of this issue feels like filler. Diving for buried treasure and soaring off to Paris -- it all feels like wasted time next to the Adam storyline.” I have a theory that the entire ship sequence is there as an excuse to put Superman in those big chains and make that Spawn joke (which I didn’t get until now, since I’ve always read this issue in Spanish).

Superman says that pulling that big ship was "a little easier than expected" -- that's either another hint that there's something going on with Superman's powers since he came back, or a subtle dig at the state of American ship manufacturing.

Another adorable "window tap" scene for the books, and this is the sexiest one so far. Is it me or has Jurgens started copying more than just Teri Hatcher's hairdo from Lois & Clark? (For anyone who thinks Lois has gotten implants, I refer you to this clip.)

While in Paris, Lois asks Clark if he's ever wondered what would happen if his rocket had landed in other countries. Don: “Clark’s conversation with Lois sounds like a bunch of concepts for Elseworlds stories. We eventually would see a Russian Superman, and a British Superman, but not yet the French Superman. (Hire us, DC!)” Yep, got my French Superman pitch ready, Jim Lee. Or just let us do Russian Superman again, since Red Son wasn’t even the first time you published that idea.

Don once more: “Another thing that makes no sense about the ‘new’ Toyman is his resentment of technological toys—when in previous appearances he himself had deadly high-tech toys to vex Superman over the years.” I especially resent his hatred of video game consoles. Incidentally, I wonder what types of games are available for Adam’s beloved Lextendo. Star Lex 64? Mega Man Lex? Sonic the Hedgehog 3 & Knuckles & Lex?

No one is more upset at Lois and Clark for going AWOL than Whit. NO ONE. He's so furious that his usually grey mustache turned black.

Patreon-Watch:

As always, shout out to our patrons, Aaron, Murray Qualie, Chris “Ace” Hendrix, britneyspearsatemyshorts, Patrick D. Ryall, Samuel Doran, Bheki Latha, Mark Syp, Ryan Bush and Raphael Fischer! Last month’s exclusive Patreon article was about the recently unearthed sequel to Superman 64 for the PlayStation, featuring Metallo, Parasite, and Lois looking even hotter than in this issue:

Hot damn. Find out more at https://www.patreon.com/superman86to99!

And believe it or not, Don Sparrow has even more to say about this issue. Read his section after the jump:

Art-Watch (by @donsparrow​):

I should start off my section with a big caveat:  I flat out hate this issue. There were several weird decisions made in the post-Death-and-Return era (most of them along the same lines of making the Superman titles more grim-and-gritty), and this story was one of the worst of them.  My theory is that, despite the praise and record-breaking sales of the Death and Return storyline, the Superman creative team felt pressure to have more extreme storylines, perhaps in response to the wildly successful Image books coming out at the time.  Between this story, and the upcoming “Spilled Blood” storyline, the Super books take a hard—but temporary--turn into more violent and upsetting storytelling—even though these stories are by the same writers as the previous few years. While death has always been a part of comics, and Superman comics was no exception, there is a jarring glibness and unfeeling toward the way violence is handled in these pages that is quite different from the stories that preceded it.  It’s made all the more jarring by the fact that well-established personalities suddenly veer wildly out of character, Toyman chief among them.  

We start with the cover, and while it is technically well-drawn (by the familiar team of Jurgens and Breeding) it’s also a very upsetting visual.  I think they should have gone with the pieta type pose with Adam and Superman, OR the scary badass bowie-knife Toyman (who apparently has a Cheshire cat smile now) but not both.  But the cover is a good hint at the tonal dissonance of the comic within.

We open with a splash of the now-extreme 90s looking Toyman, with his serial killer shaved head and spooky cloak, ignoring the pleas of hungry kids he has locked up in a tiny jail cell for days at a time (if that sentence doesn’t ring alarm bells for how wrong this is for a Superman story, I don’t know what will). For much of the issue Toyman’s eyes are obscured by glare on his lenses, further de-humanizing a character who was once one of Superman’s more empathetic bad guys.

We cut to Superman tugboating a huge tanker with giant chains and it’s a cool visual (one repeated in the Batman V Superman film).  It feels especially out of place to focus on, given how upsetting this issue is otherwise, but throughout the whole comic, Lois is drawn smoking hot, especially on the two page spread on pages 9-10.

The scenes depicting the actual murder, while still wildly out of place in a Superman comic, are well done, and give a real sense of darkness and menace, which I suppose is the intent.  Perhaps my least favourite visual is the Big Bird stuffie, silently bearing witness to what’s about to occur.

The edges of the panels on get more slashy and off-kilter (to me, looking very much like the layouts more typically seen in Image comics of the day) and I suppose I appreciate the restraint of how little Dan Jurgens shows of the death of a child, showing only a bloody slash on a black background.  This is still a pretty baroque image for a Superman comic, but certainly less violent than it could be, given what is happening.

Cat Grant’s silent horror is well staged, and powerful in its way.   Lastly, Clark Kent bending in sorrow and regret is a powerful image.

While this issue is handled marginally better, and more maturely than other comics on the shelf at this time, I still believe it is one of the biggest mistakes of the era.  Giving a long-established character an unceremonious death for shock value is gross on its own, but making it a child definitely crosses a line for me.  Making it worse is that, while the Toyman is a criminal and a killer, he has shown in past issues (a similar kidnapping storyline involving Sleez) that he genuinely cares for the well-being of children.  So for a long-time reader, this also felt like a betrayal of a long-established, fully developed character.   Adding to the ugliness of this is that Adam dies heroically, trying to free the children who have been caged, unfed, for days, but even in that regard, he fails.  The headline at the end of the issue confirms all the children are dead.  Adam’s death did not buy the other kids enough time to get away. It was all for nothing. Had Adam died, but the other children lived, maybe this issue wouldn’t leave quite as bad a taste. [Max: It’s weird because it’s all told in a way where it’s told in a way where it would make sense, narratively and within the story universe, that the other kids survived, but then it’s almost casually revealed that nope, they died too. A scene of one of the kids relaying Adam’s heroism to Cat in a future issue would have gone a long way.]

Superman doesn’t come off well in these pages, either.  It’s honestly the type of story they should just stay away from, because the more you think about all the calamity that is going on around the clock, the less defensible the whole Clark Kent persona becomes. Superman carving out time to romance his fiancée directly led to the preventable deaths of innocent children—how do you come back from that?

STRAY OBSERVATIONS:

I’m always looking for hints that perhaps Jimmy or Perry know Superman’s secret identity deep down, and Jimmy’s anger at Lois and Clark on their return to the Daily Planet offices would seem to give that theory some credence, as he’s as angry at them as if he knew Clark really were Superman.  Either that, or he’s ticked that it fell to him, and none of them to escort Cat into the morgue. [Max: Has this issue finally converted you to the “Jimmy is terrible” side now, Don?]

I don’t think I’m the only one who disliked the new Toyman—SPOILERS BE HERE: years later, in Action Comics #865, Geoff Johns retconned this whole story, reverting Schott into the criminal who over-relates to kids, rather than the child-killer of this story.  Apparently the infantile Schott, who speaks to “Mother” a la Norman Bates, is a robot so lifelike it fools even Superman, and the “Mother” he’s constantly replying to was the real Winslow Schott trying to recall the malfunctioning robot. [Max: That’s one Geoff Johns retcon I really didn’t mind, even if it felt kind of derivative of his similar “all the Brainiacs are robots made by the real Brainiac” reveal.]