Week 2 - Rising to a challenge
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mcuflashmemeWeek 2 is here, and with it a shiny new prompt!
RULES
1. Marvel Cinematic Universe, liberally construed: MCU movies, TV shows, comics characters who theoretically will be appearing in movies or tv shows, you know, whatever. Knock yourself out.
2. Flashfic! Write it fast, because at the end of the week the roundup post cometh and then we're moving on to a new prompt.
2a. Yeah, or art, or whatever. Make a thing for the prompt! Make it quick! Post or link it in the comments to this post!
3. Don't be an asshole.
3a. Don't like somebody's work? Keep scrolling.
3b. Label your work so people who don't like that kind of thing know to keep scrolling. Canon source, pairing, characters, rating, all a good idea.
Please use warnings for major character death, rape/non-con, graphic violence, and underage sex.
4. Mod will make more rules if mod is forced to. Mod reserves the right to screen, delete, ban, etc. But don't make me do that, guys, I have better things to do. Okay? Okay.
You have until approximately this time next Friday for this prompt, so get going!
A story about rising to a challenge.
RULES
1. Marvel Cinematic Universe, liberally construed: MCU movies, TV shows, comics characters who theoretically will be appearing in movies or tv shows, you know, whatever. Knock yourself out.
2. Flashfic! Write it fast, because at the end of the week the roundup post cometh and then we're moving on to a new prompt.
2a. Yeah, or art, or whatever. Make a thing for the prompt! Make it quick! Post or link it in the comments to this post!
3. Don't be an asshole.
3a. Don't like somebody's work? Keep scrolling.
3b. Label your work so people who don't like that kind of thing know to keep scrolling. Canon source, pairing, characters, rating, all a good idea.
Please use warnings for major character death, rape/non-con, graphic violence, and underage sex.
4. Mod will make more rules if mod is forced to. Mod reserves the right to screen, delete, ban, etc. But don't make me do that, guys, I have better things to do. Okay? Okay.
You have until approximately this time next Friday for this prompt, so get going!
no subject
Date: 2016-01-09 02:46 am (UTC)Fandom: Captain America, post Avengers and pre-Winter Soldier
Notes: Inspired by the second prompt for the MCU flash meme on dreamwidth and one of my favourite tumblr posts of all time (http://masterblaster.tumblr.com/post/87110372846/theeasyvirtue-masterblaster-we-ordered-lube). Sorry that I seem to have broken all the general rules about this thing but I saw the prompt, thought of the post, and then I had to write it.
Summary: "Fine, there's something wrong with the closet door. I can use it as a doorstop I guess."
"Sure, Cap. Doorstop. If that's what you're calling it."
no subject
Date: 2016-01-09 06:23 am (UTC)http://archiveofourown.org/works/5668615
no subject
Date: 2016-01-14 12:55 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-01-09 09:21 pm (UTC)!!! NSFW !!!
Online link: http://www.fastswf.com/L6Jjjpo
If online link is broken, this will let you download to PC:
http://www.mediafire.com/download/eq68ghcion18383/steve.swf
no subject
Date: 2016-01-13 12:25 pm (UTC)An Unbearable Smorgasbord
Date: 2016-01-10 03:57 pm (UTC)Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Characters: Clint Barton & Natasha Romanov.
Rating: G
Tags: Clint is a Mess, Natasha is a good bro
Warnings: Mentions of vomiting and overeating, though not caused by an eating disorder
+++
“Nat, help me, I can’t do it”
“Can’t do what?” Despite the fact that Clint had whispered in her ear in a clear request for discretion, Natasha replied at full volume, and several of their neighbors were now staring at him. He shook them off with a dismissive smile, while subtly kicking Nat’s ankle under the table.
“I can’t eat all this food Natasha, it’s not physically possible.”
“You have to—Thor specifically said that not cleaning your plate was a grave insult.” At least had kept her voice down that time, though her stupid, teasing smile wasn't giving him much help.
“I know but—“ He gestured helplessly at the large game-bird leg and starchy mash still covering nearly half his plate.
“Well, you should have thought of that before you piled half the buffet on there.” Nat feigned indifference, but he could tell she was enjoying his struggle.
“You know I normally eat a lot. I’m telling you, this stuff is magicked to be more filling!” His only chance at averting an inter-planetary incident on their first trip to Asgard merely raised her eyebrows. “Please, just help me finish it”
“Nope, I’ve got my own plate to worry about.” She returned to eating from it as if to prove a point.
“Nat, you have like seven peas left.”
Natasha had, in fact, sixteen purple pea-shaped vegetables and a small pastry on her plate. “I’m very full too, I just didn’t bite off more than I can chew. Now eat; everyone else is almost done.”
Grudgingly, Clint stuffed a fork-full of the mash into his mouth and swallowed without chewing. He went for the next bite, thinking to get this over before his body realized what was happening. But then— Aww, stomach, No.
He made it down the hall to the bathroom before it hit though. Thank the demigods getting up from the table wasn’t also a massive faux-pas. Suddenly, he had a lot more space in his belly for that food. Not that the thought was exactly appealing.
When he got back to the table though—well, he knew when they met there was a reason he hadn’t killed Natasha Romanov.
The definitely-not-a-turkey leg had been moved to her plate, leaving him with only the could-passably-be-potato mash. He could manage that. They always managed together.
+++
Find me on tumblr at justaphage (https://www.tumblr.com/blog/justaphage)
Re: An Unbearable Smorgasbord
Date: 2016-01-11 11:44 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-01-11 11:43 pm (UTC)Rating: Teen
Fandom: Captain America (Movies)
Relationship: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers/Sam Wilson
Characters: Sam Wilson, Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes, Sarah Wilson
Additional Tags: Sam-Centric, Sam Wilson is a Gift, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Polyamory
So after I wrote last week's fic, I kind of got carried away and wrote a bunch more? And it was super fun! My starting point for this was actually this week's prompt, although it did end up wandering a bit. It's a bit longer too, so I figured I would just link it this time around. I hope you like it!
no subject
Date: 2016-01-13 12:53 am (UTC)Fandom: Captain America
Pairings: The usual Steve/Peggy, Steve/Bucky, could be read as gen
Additional Tags: Depression, Suicidal Thoughts, Recently defrosted Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers vs the 21st Century, Steve Rogers vs the subway, Historical New York
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They’ve taken down the elevated line, and without it the Bowery stretches wide and open like a razed country, smelling like nothing in particular, quiet and peaceful.
Link on AO3.
no subject
Date: 2016-01-14 06:32 am (UTC)Author: HobbitSpaceCase on AO3, though I haven't posted this there; TrashMouse on tumblr
Fandom: MCU Peggy Carter and Natasha Romanoff. Yes, those are the main characters, but I am also going to claim they are the fandoms, since it's not really set in Agent Carter, and Natasha doesn't have her own movie yet.
Notes: In the spirit of flashfic, this was very quickly written and unbetaed. In the interests of not making it overly long and take forever, it may or may not be continued in a later prompt. I'm also not totally certain that this entirely follows the prompt, since the challenge isn't fully risen to by the end. Still, I'd say Natasha does rise to an emotional challenge.
Summary: Natalia Romanova, one of the best spies to come out of the Red Room, meets a pretty foreign Agent while destroying secrets in a mostly abandoned base. A bit of fighting, an explosion, and an injury apiece later, and Natasha finds herself making an important choice.
--------
The woman had steel in her eyes, and streaks of it in her hair. She had lips as red as fresh blood, turned down in a scowl. She also had strong arms, leading to small hands that were currently wrapped expertly around the grip of a pistol pointed directly at Natalia’s chest.
Natalia’s first thought was, “She’s beautiful.”
Her second thought was a string of Russian curses as she dove behind an open door for cover. Natalia Romanova, of all people, should know not to underestimate a woman.
She barely had time to pull her own rifle off her shoulder and crouch by the door to fire when the building exploded.
A great, rumbling lurch through the foundation of the building knocked Natalia off her feet as dust and the sound of crumbling masonry filled the air. The lights in the room flickered and sparked. Before she could recover, the foreign Agent came tumbling through the doorway and landed right on top of her. The Agent was strong, and the two grappled for several moments, rolling across the floor and making judicious use of both knees and elbows. Unexpectedly, Natalia found herself pinned beneath the Agent; she attempted to free her legs so that she could twist away, but a sharp CRACK and flash of pain in the left leg told her she had only managed to break her tibia near the ankle. She gritted her teeth against the pain and tried to twist her body to the side anyway. The Agent only grabbed her wrists and twisted their upper bodies together.
Both of them froze when a chunk of concrete slammed into the ground right where their heads had been a moment before.
The Agent lay, breathing shallowly through the dusty air, on top of Natalia. Both of her small hands ground Natalia’s equally deceptively small wrists against the gritty floor, and her face was close enough that a few silver strands of shoulder length hair brushed against Natalia’s cheeks. Natalia’s rifle and the Agent’s smaller gun both lay across the room, crushed by falling debris. It was pure luck they’d not been crushed themselves; Natalia did not have a good history with luck. The collapse of the building sounded as though it was coming to a close, but she could spare only a small portion of her senses to anything outside of the woman above her.
“It was risky of you, entering this room when you must have seen me enter it already,” Natalia said, allowing her fluttering curiosity control of her mouth while she wondered how to get at the knife at her back, or the garrote wire against her hip.
“I didn’t have many options,” the Agent replied in a dry British accent. “I didn’t expect the hallway to collapse on top of me.”
Natalia considered her position. A quick glance at the door showed that it had practically disappeared behind broken chunks of concrete too heavy to move.
They were in an inner basement room without windows. If the entire hallway had collapsed, the exit was gone. There was one other way, long and winding and almost certainly also blocked in the explosion, though it went deep underground and was well shielded. If not for her leg, she may still have had a chance of getting herself out, but with the blood loss and the clearly shattered bone, she would never get far. They would both die here today. With that thought, she went suddenly slack against the floor.
Unfortunately, the Agent did not let go of her in surprise, but rather tightened her grip on Natalia’s wrists. “I don’t suppose you know another way out of here?” she asked, and Natalia was reluctantly impressed by the steadiness of her voice. “I’m afraid the corridor has quite disintegrated.”
Natalia looked her enemy in the eye and smiled. “There is no way out,” she lied. She followed with the truth. “We both will die.” She tasted blood on her front teeth and hoped it made her look frightening. The Agent’s face showed nothing, but Natalia could feel the flutter of her pulse where their wrists pressed together.
“How many of your people died just now, I wonder?” Natalia asked, and there, that made the Agent’s lips tighten to a thin line.
“How many of your own people were just sacrificed?” The Agent shot back instead of an answer. Natalia’s grin widened.
“One, at most, besides me,” she said. “Though I suspect he would have been clear away before setting off the charges. You raided an empty base.”
The Agent frowned at Natalia with an odd softness that put an answering scowl on Natalia’s face. “Your partner got himself away before blowing up this base, but didn’t bother getting you away?” she asked.
“Our secrets are more important than the body of one spy,” Natalia replied, but though she tried to infuse the words with appropriate pride, the tightness in her chest and twist of her stomach gave her away. Little Natalia Romanova could lie to anyone except herself.
Of course, the Agent had latched onto a different part of her sentence. “What secrets might those be?” she asked.
“The ones I destroyed just before running into you in the corridor, of course,” Natalia replied. For a moment, the confusion she’d felt upon looking at the images in the files she’d been sent to burn gusted through her mind like a cloud. She was certain the man in the pictures was familiar, but equally she was certain she would not forget an arm like his, or the look in his eyes. She’d envied those perfectly blank eyes that stared through her as they burned.
The Agent’s shifting weight brought her snapping back to the present. For a moment, she was furious with herself for drifting with an enemy so close at hand. Then she remembered that they were both doomed, and allowed the anger to slip away. To her surprise, the Agent rolled off of her entirely.
“Are you not afraid I will kill you?” she asked, curiosity winning over, for now, the instinct to do just that.
“You seem convinced we are already doomed,” the Agent responded drily, but the steel in her eyes had softened. “So, I was hoping that we might be able to come to a more amicable agreement and try to find a way out together. However I die, I don’t intend it to be through slow suffocation in a collapsed building. If you insist, we may resume trying to kill each other in a more interesting manner afterwards. Besides,” she added with a raise of one perfectly shaped brow, “I am hardly unarmed.” The ‘unlike you’ went unsaid, but not unheard. Natalia would have made a retort about her own hidden knives, until she looked down the length of the Agent’s body, now a few feet away.
For the second time in as many minutes, Natalia could have kicked herself. The Agent had pulled another small pistol out from under her skirt. She held it by her hip, unwaveringly pointed at Natalia’s chest. Already, this felt familiar.
Natalia knew what she should do. She was born and bred to fight, and to die if she must for the good of Russia and the good of her Handlers. There was a dark stain of blood on the woman’s shirt (a stain, Natalia realized, that had transferred to her own shirt as well during their close proximity), and her breathing was still shallower than it should have been. Now that Natalia was free of the distracting weight of the Agent on top of her, she could see that the woman was wounded. There was a chance Natalia could disarm her before she fired, even with a broken leg.
But Natalia did not want to die here, alone in the trembling yellow light of this underground lab. She lost hope of ever living a long time ago, but this Agent, trapped alone but for her rival underground, with no way out and nothing to show for herself but a failed mission and a possibly broken rib, still glared at her and asked for a way out.
She sat up, hissing through her teeth as the motion jostled her leg. “That direction,” she said, indicating with her head the only other door in the room, across a pile of twisted metal and jagged concrete, “will take you deeper into the base.” She thought of the knife at her back, of the fear curling through her stomach, of the Agent with the blood red lips and dangerous eyes across from her, and she made a choice. “Perhaps, if you help me walk, I might just remember that there is another way out.”
Rise Up (1/2)
Date: 2016-01-14 03:16 pm (UTC)Fandom: Captain America (Movies)
Characters: Sam Wilson/Bucky Barnes
Rating: Explicit
Tags: Modern AU, Get it Bucky, Beefy Bucky, Basically 3.5k of porn and .5k of feelings
Warnings: Brief discussion of bruises, scar mention, alcohol mention.
Sam had been sitting at the bar for nearly thirty minutes by the time the guy sat in the corner - broad shoulders, solid thighs, not-quite-stubble covering his lower jaw - finally worked up the courage to come over and slide into the seat next to him.
Sam smiled. "Took you long enough."
"What can I say?" the guy shrugged. "View was pretty good from back there." He smirked, like he knew that Sam had been flexing on purpose, which, okay: guilty as charged.
"And what about up close?" Sam asked, leaning in to speak over the noise around them, close enough to bump their knees together. Beneath the thick warmth of the bar and the people packed in around them, there was a different note in the air: damn, the guy smelled good.
The guy pulled back enough to give Sam a long surveying look, the kind that had heat pooling in his belly, before getting in close again, the tip of his boot brushing against Sam's ankle.
"I'd say it's pretty damn fine," he murmured, voice low, and then his face cracked and he laughed, a little ruefully, sitting back and scrubbing a hand over his face and settling forward again, tucking a few stray strands of hair behind his ear. "Sorry, I -- it's been a while; I'm not very good at this."
"I'd say you're doing pretty well so far," Sam encouraged. "No complaints from me," he added, at the disbelieving look on the guy's face.
"So I should keep going?"
Sam nodded, unable to help the teasing grin from spreading across his face. He made a short motion with his hand: "Please."
"Buy you a drink?" asked the guy.
"Sure," Sam replied, watching the flex of muscle in the guy's shoulders, visible beneath his shirt, as he leaned forward and gestured to the barman. A few moments later, their drinks slid across the bar.
"I'm James," the guy said, reaching out and nudging the drink towards Sam, the warm brush of their fingers in sharp contrast to the coolness of the glass.
"Nice to meet you, James," said Sam. He slowly ran a finger up the side of his glass, catching a drip of condensation. "I'm Sam."
+++
Things were going well. Sure, Sam was in a new city, but the rhythm of this was, at least, familiar: the casual eye-contact across the room, the introduction, the drink (now drinks), the easy flirtation. It was comforting, almost, to find that this hadn't changed, that it still came easy -- or at least, that's what he’d thought, up until the final beat, when he’d asked:
"So -- you want to get out of here?"
James looked down at his drink, curling his fingers around the half-empty glass, and gave Sam a tight smile, and Sam felt it like a punch to the chest, because damn. He’d been so sure. But you didn’t have a job like Sam’s without learning to roll with the punches, so he put his game face on, preparing to brush it off, except that James’s hand came up and rested lightly on his wrist: wait.
"I don't -- do this much," James started, brow furrowed as he stared into his glass. After a few moments he looked up and caught the look on Sam's face, and continued quickly on, "but: I'd like to. Do this," he clarified, reaching out and tentatively putting a hand on Sam's knee, slow enough to give Sam time to pull away. He didn't.
“Okay,” Sam said, beginning to smile. “I can work with that.”
+++
Whatever hesitance James had had before seemed to have faded during their walk over, because before they’d even made it inside Sam’s building he leaned in and kissed Sam, chaste at first, but quickly becoming wet and dirty once Sam pulled them both inside and pinned James up against the wall.
It took them a while, but they managed to make it up to Sam’s apartment eventually, both flushed, their clothes a mess, James’s mouth looking swollen and kiss-bruised. As Sam fumbled for his key he had the sudden thought of what Mrs. Weinstein across the hall might say if she saw them like this, and he let out a burst of blurry laughter that quickly quietened into a low moan when James got up close behind him and slid a hand down Sam’s front, running a teasing finger down the front of the zipper on his jeans, where his dick was straining against it.
It took Sam a few tries to actually get the key into the door, impeded partly by the warm haze of alcohol, partly by the delicious scrape of teeth as James got in close and nibbled at his ear but mostly just because he hadn't lived here long enough to get the muscle memory of it yet, a fact which quickly became apparent when they got inside and picked up where they left off, kissing fiercely and stripping the other's clothes off in the dark -- or trying to, anyway, since they kept bumping into what felt like every single piece of furniture Sam owned.
"Fuck it," Sam gasped a little breathlessly, reaching over behind James and fumbling for the lightswitch, after the fourth muffled "ow" James laughed into his shoulder.
Now that the light was on Sam took a few seconds to get his bearings before turning back to James -- and stopping short, because the guy had a huge, dark bruise on his left shoulder - vibrant against his pale skin, like he’d taken a bad hit from something heavy.
“Damn, you should get some ice on that,” Sam said, concerned. He brushed his hand over it, palpating where the bruising was darkest. James yelped.
“Shit -- sorry,” Sam said, stepping back and remembering that there was a time and a place for patient assessment, and this wasn’t it.
James rubbed at his shoulder. “You a doctor or something?”
“Something like that,” Sam replied, flicking the light off again - he’d oriented himself now. He leaned in and brushed his mouth over the edge of the bruise in apology for poking it. An apology that was accepted, judging by the way James ducked his head and captured his mouth in a kiss that started gentle but didn’t stay that way for very long.
“How’d it happen?” Sam said a few minutes later, when they came up for air.
"Perks of the job." James mouthed at Sam's jaw, hands going to Sam's waist and unfastening his belt.
The rasp of the zipper - moving what felt like a millimetre at a time; James was a goddamn tease - combined with the pressure of James's hand made Sam's breath hitch. "What are you -- some kind of -- ultimate fighter?"
James dropped to his knees before easing Sam's jeans down his thighs, just enough for him to lean in and press his mouth to Sam's cloth-covered dick, feeling it twitch beneath his tongue.
"Something like that," he said, smirking, before pulling away a little and looking up through his eyelashes. "This okay?"
"No complaints from me," Sam repeated, the same way he had before, though this time the teasing tone was somewhat undercut by the shakiness of his voice as he looked down at James, at his broad solid shoulders and his red wet mouth as he licked his lips. Sam felt his dick twitch again; Christ, he could come just from the view.
"So I should keep going?" James murmured as he leaned in again, flicking his tongue against the puckered scar on Sam's belly - thankfully, without asking what it was from - before nosing at the line of hair leading down into Sam' boxers.
Sam slid his hand down on to James' uninjured shoulder, relishing in the feel of smooth muscle rippling beneath his fingers.
"Please," he said, groaning aloud when James finally relented; he pulled Sam's boxers out of the way and wrapped warm fingers around his dick, pinning it to his belly. James leaned in and licked a slow stripe up the length, starting at Sam's balls and ending with a gentle suck at the very tip, drawing it into his mouth a little at a time before pulling back and dragging the flat of his tongue over the head, lapping up the beads of precome as he started to pump his hand.
James seemed hesitant to get the whole thing in his mouth, and his coordination was a little off; not that it mattered, because what he lacked in finesse he made up for in enthusiasm, and there was something about the feeling of his tongue flicking between his fingers that was so deliciously filthy that it felt like no time at all before Sam's balls were drawing tight. With a slight pressure of his hand on James’s shoulder, Sam pulled back with a panted, "Fuck -- fuck, hold on," the respite allowing him to ease back from the edge he'd been teetering on.
"Okay?" James said, wiping his slick mouth. Sam glanced down at him and realised he wasn't as far from the edge as he'd thought as another surge of heat zinged up his spine; if James had looked good before, that was nothing compared to now.
Sam reached down and pulled James to his feet. He sighed at the feeling of all that warm skin pressed up against his own and the rough scratch of James’s chest hair against his nipples as he got a hand around James's shoulders and pulled him in for an enthusiastic kiss. "'Okay?' he asks,” Sam mimicked. “Yeah, that was pretty damn okay." He thrust his hips a little, groaning at the friction of James' clothed erection dragging against his own. "Bed?"
"Sure," James said, and then "Can I?", his hands sliding down to Sam's ass, his thighs.
"If you can--" Sam started, teasing; but this night had been full of surprises, so it was with only a small amount of shock that he felt himself being picked up, instinctively wrapping his legs around James' waist as James lifted him bodily, adjusted to the weight and then started walking towards the bedroom, mouthing at Sam's jaw the entire time.
The pause as James's knees hit the edge of the mattress was the only warning Sam had before James leaned down and lowered him carefully down on to the bed. The display of strength sent another surge of heat through Sam, all the way to the tip of his dick, where another blurt of pre-come spilled out, drooling over his fingers when he reached down and closed his fingers around the head and pumped slowly.
James groaned a little at the sight, getting on to the bed and knee-walking until he was straddling Sam, breath hitching when Sam's knuckles brushed against his fabric-covered balls. "Fuck, you're so," James started, voice cut off by a breathy moan when Sam sat up and flicked a thumb over his nipple, the noise turning more high-pitched when Sam pressed at it with the flat of his thumb before leaning in and dragging his tongue over the other one. James's hips jerked, rubbing the very tip of his clothed erection against the flat of Sam's belly; so Sam got mean about it, scraping his teeth over James's nipple and sucking it into his mouth before licking across James's chest and laving at the other one, revelling in the wrecked noises James was beginning to make.
"I'm going to -- come if you keep doing that," James panted, groaning again when Sam bit gently at the underside of his pec. "You got condoms?"
"Yeah, yeah," Sam mouthed against flushed skin, then flicked his tongue soothingly over where he'd just bitten and pulled back. He nodded towards the nightstand, out of his reach with James pinning him like this.
James reached over into the drawer, making a breathless noise of pleasure that turned into a laugh as he fumbled for the lube, because Sam was currently taking the opportunity to pull James's boxers down enough to brush his thumb over the head, smearing the wetness there.
By the time he had lube and condom in hand, James was wild-eyed, trying not to buck into Sam’s hand. He pulled back enough to get his boxers all the way off before settling back in Sam’s lap, knees on either side of Sam’s waist.
“Want me to,” Sam glanced at the lube.
James shook his head, “I got it.”
“Okay,” Sam said easily, sitting back against the headboard to watch.
Re: Rise Up (2/2)
Date: 2016-01-14 03:20 pm (UTC)"Easy, easy," Sam soothed, smoothing a hand up James's thigh, the other running down James's back, curving over his ass and squeezing a little, encouraging. He dragged a finger across to where two of James's were thrusting inside in a way that seemed just the wrong side of painful. Sam brushed a hand over James's wrist, and James's fingers stopped moving. "Can I?"
"Fuck, I," James said, voice oddly tight, stopping short when Sam pressed a warm kiss against his collarbone. "Yeah, okay," he continued breathily, sliding his fingers free. Then, smirking: "S'all yours."
Sam picked up the lube, squeezing it out onto his fingers. He eased back around and pressed the pad of one finger against where James was already slick. There was some give, there; but not enough for Sam to be comfortable with just sticking his fingers in, so: Plan B. With the fingers of one hand he slowly traced at James's rim, feeling it twitch beneath his fingertips, while his other hand closed firmly around James's dick, which had wilted slightly. He kept his movements slow, teasing, waiting until James's hips were beginning to twitch, his hole loosening beneath Sam's finger, which Sam rubbed around a little more, making sure it was fully slick, before easing it inside.
"Fffffffuck," James exhaled, breath shaking, eyes clenched shut. His dick twitched in Sam's hand, hips moving more erratically.
"Good?" Sam asked. He flicked his tongue against James's nipple, feeling the hot silky warmth of him clench around his finger as he thrust it slowly in and out.
"It's -- ah -- okay, I guess," James panted in reply, opening his eyes to give Sam a look that made it pretty damn clear that Sam was taking him apart piece by piece.
After a few minutes James rolled his hips, insistent. "Gimme another," he said, and Sam obliged, adding a third after a few minutes more. He crooked his fingers, held them still, and sat back for a while, drinking in the sight of James twitching back and forth between the hand on his dick and the fingers inside him, mouth open and wet and curved into a smile. The sight had Sam shifting until his dick pressed up against the tight swell of James's balls; they both gasped at the sensation, and then James ducked down and got a hand around the back of Sam's neck, pulling him in for a fierce kiss. When they pulled apart, James's eyes were dark, and hungry. "Come on," he murmured, getting a hand between them and giving Sam's cock a long, slow stroke. "Fuck me."
The words were like a suckerpunch of the best kind, all of the air leaving Sam's lungs at once.
“Okay,” he said, the rhythm of it coming so easy: getting the condom on, slicking himself up, easing James up and spreading him apart, their hands laced together over Sam’s dick as James sank down slowly and eased it inside; the both of them groaning, trying not to go too fast, until Sam’s balls were pressed up against James’s ass and they both stilled, panting, for a moment. James’s face was frozen in pleasure -- and something else, too, something unreadable that in the moment Sam didn’t have the mental energy to decipher, but made him pause to check.
“This okay?” he asked, and James’s face thawed, fixing Sam with a look that made him hot all over, like they both weren’t already slick with sweat.
“Thought I asked you to fuck me,” he said, rolling his hips, heaving himself nearly off Sam’s cock before sliding back down again, the thick muscle of his thighs flexing and shuddering beneath Sam’s hands -- they were both close, already; this wouldn’t last long.
“I can do that,” Sam said, leaning in and biting at James’s lip, drawing a low moan out of him. He pulled back, settled his hands on James’s solid hips, and then they were off: James keeping still and letting Sam really give it to him, dragging his cock in and out of James and feeling James’s heavy dick spurt and drool pre-come against both their bellies, adding to the slickness of sweat as they slipped and slid against each other.
Just when he felt James’s balls beginning to draw up tight, Sam stopped, easing James back down and sliding his hands from James’s waist to ass, his thighs, one finger tracing the edge of his rim, where Sam’s dick was stretching him tight. James let out a shocked, hot sound, putting his hands on the headboard on either side of Sam’s head and arching his back. He started off slow, rolling his hips in a smooth, dirty grind, building it up slow, teasing. In pay-back Sam pressed in close and bit at his nipple, pressing the nail of his thumb against the other one.
The action was like a spark on gasoline; James groaned, his movements getting frantic, flexing his thighs to angle Sam’s dick exactly where he wanted it and then shoving back against it, greedy now, his breath shuddering in his chest as his dick swelled. Sam reached down and got a hand around it, jerking it quickly, drawing him to the edge and then over it, James’s groans getting more breathy and then silent as he gave it up, come spurting between them. The rhythmic clench of his ass tightening reminded Sam with a choked gasp exactly how close he was to his own orgasm, and seemed to remind James, too; after a few more seconds he stopped shuddering, loose all over now that’d he come but determined to work through the oversensitivity. He cocked his head invitingly, almost like it was a challenge: come on.
Sam got a hard grip on his hips and thrust up hard, feeling James shudder and shake beneath his hands, biting his red lips and looking absolutely destroyed, with this look on his face - pleasure and happiness and longing and so many other threads that Sam wanted to pick apart, but then he was coming hard, gasping with it. After a few seconds he slumped exhausted against James, who eased himself off slowly with a wet noise, peeled off the condom and then guided Sam to lie down. His eyes closed, and when he opened them again James was sitting up beside him, tissues in hand, gently wiping the come off Sam’s belly. After a few moments he seemed to sense Sam watching him, and finished cleaning himself up before trashing the tissues and turning to face Sam. He was smiling - a faint echo of the look Sam had seen on his face after he’d come - but there was something closed off about it, too: he was going to leave. Sam knew it.
But James had said his apartment wasn’t exactly close, and it was late, and he’d just given Sam the best orgasm he’d had in -- maybe ever, and most of all Sam was getting cold, so it was easy to slide beneath the covers and hold them open, inviting. “Keep me warm?”
James looked surprised, and then his face cracked into a smile - a real one, this time. “Okay,” he said, and then he moved in close and lay down on his back and when Sam slung an arm over his waist he felt a warm weight on his hand as James covered it with his own; and Sam was struck with the sudden realisation that maybe James hadn’t been preparing to leave; maybe he’d been preparing himself for Sam to tell him to leave.
They lay in comfortable silence for a while, Sam slowly drifting off into the deep sleep of the thoroughly-fucked, but when James spoke he blinked his eyes open again.
"Thank you, for -- you know. That was, uh. That was fuckin’ incredible.”
Sam huffed a sleepy laugh into the pillow.
“You say that like it was your first time.”
When James stilled, Sam looked up, jolting back into wakefulness when he saw the expression on James’s face.
"Wait -- that was--?" Sam tried to keep the surprise out of his face, but he wasn’t sure he managed it.
James took a few seconds to answer. "Well, there was one time in college, but. Yeah. Kind of, I guess."
Which answered some things - his moments of hesitation throughout the night, the way he pushed himself too hard, at first - though Sam had so many questions too: but -- you were so confident? why now? why me? But James had trailed off into silence, and Sam sensed that there was more he was still figuring out how to put into words. He waited.
"My parents were kind of -- conservative," James said after a while, voice quiet in the darkness. "But I guess it was mostly just me: took me a long time to. Accept it, or whatever." His voice cracked, and then he laughed, a harsh scrape of a noise. He scrubbed his hand over his face. "Sorry, this is -- stupid, I don't know why the fuck I'm telling you this," he said, shifting like he was about to get out of bed.
Sam reached out and put a gentle hand on his wrist, rubbing his thumb over James's racing pulse. "Hey, man," he said. "I'm glad you told me. I'm sorry it wasn't easy for you, but. You're here now, right? You got there eventually. Also," Sam added, letting his smile bleed into his voice as he felt James's pulse even out, "I'm real glad you picked me."
James rolled over, turning onto his side to face Sam. The thin bars of light filtering between the gaps in the blinds cut across his face, illuminating the sharp line of his jaw, his furrowed brow, his dark eyes as he gave Sam a long, searching gaze, before leaning in and brushing their mouths together, in a way that somehow felt more intimate than any of their other kisses.
"Yeah," James murmured. "I'm real glad I picked you too."
+++
me: has never written a proper sex scene before
me: writes nearly 4k of filthy, filthy bucky/sam
Anyway, this is partly inspired by hansbekhart’s Make a Thing Go Right (link: http://archiveofourown.org/works/4195266/chapters/9476418) because (okay, mild spoilers here) I was really interested in the way that Sam had never been with a guy before, and yet still dived right in with James, maybe because (being former pararescue) he’s already had a lot of practice at improvising with what he has in unfamiliar situations - something that I think would’ve come through clearer in this thing that I wrote if I’d had the time to research in order to make the context more apparent:
This is an early scene from my paramedic!Sam/firefighter!Bucky modern au - that I hope to write in full one day (I have the basic plot outlined, but it was this prompt that made me sit down and start fleshing it out, and here we are now, with a lot of porn and only a tiny bit of plot), except that I have literally no knowledge of Brooklyn or how the EMS system works there, and right now I don’t have much free time for research -- if anyone has some pointers on where to look for that kind of thing, I’d really appreciate it!
Come yell at me on tumblr: url is the same as here!
Re: Rise Up (2/2)
Date: 2016-01-17 03:28 pm (UTC)Re: Rise Up (2/2)
Date: 2016-01-20 01:28 pm (UTC)Re: Rise Up (2/2)
Date: 2016-01-18 05:17 am (UTC)Re: Rise Up (2/2)
Date: 2016-01-20 01:35 pm (UTC)I've made a new tumblr, helahler.tumblr.com, where I plan to post updates and snippets from this (and my other Sam/Bucky stuff) as it progresses, if you're interested!
Rising to a Challenge
Date: 2016-01-15 08:54 pm (UTC)Captain America - Steve Rogers centric, with a suggestion of Steve/Bucky and Bucky/Nat
-
All birthday parties were starting to look the same: all the teenage guests cramming into someone's bedroom, passing bottles of beer with hushed voices and giggles. Steve was really hoping Bucky's fifteenth birthday would be more creative, but here he was, tangled cross-legged on the hardwood floor in Bucky's attic bedroom holding an unopened bottle of Smirnoff ice someone had shoved at him.
“You don't have to drink that bitch beer,” Bucky said, but Steve shook his head.
He wasn't going to drink, but people asked fewer questions if he had something in his hands. He'd learned that at Clint’s birthday a few months ago.
This time Natasha brought vodka, which was new. Something nice she'd nicked from her aunt's liquor cabinet. The way she told the story made her sound like an action hero, disabling booby traps and dodging security cameras, and it made Bucky look at her with big, cow eyes like he'd volunteer for the role of damsel in distress.
Puberty - Steve understood. He was a little behind, and everyone could tell. They forgave him for it. For being short and clumsy, and having to ask why tossing a salad was dirty. Natasha said she couldn't wait for the day Steve finally got with the program. She had a list of girls and guys ready to throw at him the day he took an interest.
Tony was less delicate. “I bet you'll be one of those crazy ones in college. No way holding it in this long is healthy. One day you'll explode and have sex with everything.”
“I'm not holding anything in,” Steve said. “I do jerk off.”
That just made it worse. Steve missed the days when he could argue politics with Tony instead of sex.
“This'll blow over,” Bucky promised.
But what did he know? There were rumors of Bucky charming the pants off half the school, and Bucky never denied it.
“Is your mom going to be pissed about all the drunk teenagers in her attic?” Steve asked as Bucky smacked the bitch beer against the window sill, deftly removing the cap.
It was fuming lightly when Bucky handed it back. Steve took a sniff and wrinkled his nose.
“No,” Bucky said. “She knows we've been sneaking around her punch ever Christmas. Are you sure you want this? You strike me as more of a dark beer guy.”
“I'm not gonna drink it anyway. Probably wouldn't play nice with my meds.”
“Pretty smart wasting this shit, then,” Bucky said with a wink, because winking was a new thing he was trying to perfect.
He looked like an idiot, and Steve told him so.
“Good, that's just what I was going for,” Bucky told him, and winked again.
“Okay,” Natasha voice cut across the room. “I've got the first empty bottle of the night, so you know what time it is.”
“Please say Truth or Dare,” Steve said.
The room groaned collectively - all the teenagers and some of the furniture.
“We've been playing that since we were six,” Clint said.
“Yeah,” Sam agreed. “And Tony and Nat always pick dare, Bucky always picks truth, and you, Steve, have been banned from dares because of that time you almost died.”
“I broke my leg,” Steve corrected.
And the teenagers and the furniture chorused back, “you almost died!”
“Okay, so truth or dare is out,” Bucky said in his big brother voice. “Who wants to kiss me?”
“Everyone, obviously,” Natasha said.
She set the bottle down on the floor and everyone scooted into a circle, like planets in orbit.
“Steve, you're playing, right?” Bucky said.
He gestured to the empty spot he'd left in the circle, and Steve joined him, rolling his eyes. At least it was was a good excuse to abandon his drink on the window sill. He settled in between Bucky and Bruce and watched Natasha take the first spin.
“Shouldn't the birthday boy go first?” Bucky asked.
The glass bottled clattered against the floor, drooling out the last drops of Coors, and Steve felt his heart race in terror as it slowed in his direction. The bottle made a last awkward slide, and stopped in front of Bucky.
“Well,” Natasha said, “Looks like you're going second.”
She and Bucky leaned into the sentence of the circle, meeting in the middle like a bridge. Everyone whooped and cheered, but Natasha’s silky red hair swung in a curtain across her face, and Steve couldn't see their lips touch. He didn't want to; he didn't care.
When Bucky pulled back and gave him a dreamy-eyed grin with a purplish lipstick stain on his skin, Steve didn't care. He was going to make it through this without kissing anyone by sheer dumb luck alone.
“Wipe that shit off.” Steve gave him a shove, definitely not smiling at the dumb look of injury Bucky threw back.
“You're supposed to kiss it off, Steve, that's the point of the game,” Bucky said. He wiggled his eyebrows dramatically, drunk on stolen vodka or kisses, or some other forbidden thing Steve couldn't reach.
Steve watched Bucky twirl the bottle, his fingers hovering over it for a moment, as if trying to direct its target. It wasn't as elegant as Natasha’s spin; the neck of the bottle smacked the floor as it wobbled to a stop, and Steve looked down to realize it was pointed straight at him.
“Oh, ha-ha,” he said. Because it was ridiculous. No one could actually expect them to do this.
“Well?” Natasha prompted.
Steve shrugged. “Just let him try again.”
Clint got a wolfish sort of grin that looked a little eerie on his baby face. “No way - that's against the rules.”
“There's an exception for people who were in diapers together, dumbass,” Sam said, elbowing him into silence.
“You can back out if you want.” Bucky shrugged, like kissing Steve wouldn't phase him one bit.
Natasha eyed them from across the circle.
“When has Steve ever backed out of anything?” She asked, sounding like a proud squire at a joust. Steve wasn't sure how she could defend his honor and taunt him at the same time.“If you don't want to kiss him, Barnes, just say so.”
Bucky looked a little dumbstruck for a moment - almost as much as Steve - but he recovered with a shrug and a smile.
“I happen to like kissing,” he said.
He shrugged again in Steve's direction, which felt like a personal affront to Steve's racing heartbeat. There was no way Steve was getting out of this without needing his inhaler, and Bucky was staring at him blandly, like kissing each other wouldn't mean more than a hug.
They kissed on the lips when they were little kids. When they were three and their moms thought it was cute. This wasn't cute.
Steve shrugged back. “Don't blame me if you don't like my kissing,” he said.
Bucky shrugged again. One shrug too many, Steve thought. Maybe he was nervous - but he leaned out and brushed his lips against Steve's anyway, pulling away before Steve even had time to close his eyes.
“Boring!” Clint shouted.
“That's just rude, James!” Natasha laughed. “I kissed you for a solid minute.”
“Yeah, you're the one who wanted me to play.”
Steve heard the words escape his own mouth and still wasn't completely sure he'd said them. He didn’t want to pick a fight with Bucky, especially not over kissing, but he was running on adrenaline. If fighting was his default setting, no wonder he never wanted to kiss anyone. Punching was easier.
“Fine,” Bucky said.
Another shrug, Steve noticed, and he was biting his lip.
Bucky moved in slowly this time, making a show of it and reaching out to cup Steve's jaw before their lips met. His hands were soft - his lips were softer.
Steve shut his eyes and tried to focus on all the sensations separately. Bucky’s palm was a little clammy against Steve's cheek, and he seemed more nervous up close. He pressed in closer, mashing their lips together, but Steve felt like his own mouth was made of stone - all hard teeth and chapped skin.
“You can do better than that!” A voice called - probably Clint.
Natasha added, “Quit slacking, Barnes!”
The noise Bucky made was just an irritated groan in the back of his throat, but Steve could feel it buzzing between their lips. If it was going to take some theatrics to make their friends stop jeering at them like circus animals, Steve could step it up.
He grabbed Bucky by the collar of his henley. It would look good, even if Steve had no idea what to do next. A couple voiced cheered them on as Steve yanked Bucky forward, and he would have been satisfied, but Bucky pitched off balance, grabbing Steve's arms and slotting their mouths together with a gasp.
Applause broke out, and Steve’s own lips parted in surprised. It did something to the kiss - transformed it into something out of the movies. Steve knew, with a spark of pride, that this was more than Bucky and Nat had kissed. This was something else. It was a little wet. Maybe it wasn't the kind of thing they could laugh off the next morning.
Still, he was the reason they were cheering. If you could win kissing, Steve had won.
Just Slower (fanart) by Naomi Lasenby
Date: 2016-01-15 11:16 pm (UTC)Make it to the corner before he makes it to the end?
Can I help him this time?
Fighting against an enemy or fighting against a friend?
http://naomilasenby.tumblr.com/post/137373261919/mcu-flash-fic-meme-week-2-rising-to-a
Some pen sketches of Sam Wilson
Re: Just Slower (fanart) by Naomi Lasenby
Date: 2016-01-16 02:15 am (UTC)Rising to a Challenge
Date: 2016-01-15 11:34 pm (UTC)Premise: The serum cured Steve's erectile dysfunction.
Fact: I am unable to resist puns.
Read here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/5730241
1,319 words. Total PWP.
no subject
Date: 2016-01-16 03:03 am (UTC)Bucky just bumps his shoulder and sticks his hands in his pockets, all brash confidence because nothing bad's ever happened to him in his whole life. “We don't have to if you don't want to,” Bucky says. He even looks like he means it, until he glances around and leans down to murmur in Steve's ear. “But if we sit in the back, I'll kiss you at the top.”
Steve glowers at him. Bucky just grins like he's already won and bumps Steve's shoulder again. “Y'know. For good luck. You think you're up for it?”
Tracks
Date: 2016-01-16 03:43 am (UTC)Tracks (http://archiveofourown.org/works/5727721) ( words) by themirrordarkly (http://archiveofourown.org/users/themirrordarkly)
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe (http://archiveofourown.org/tags/Marvel 20Cinematic %%20Universe), The Avengers (Marvel Movies) (http://archiveofourown.org/tags/The%20Avengers%20(Marvel%20Movies))
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Clint Barton & Natasha Romanov, Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov
Characters: Clint Barton, Natasha Romanoff
Additional Tags: Fluff, Pining, Challenges, Video & Computer Games, Mario Kart, Flash Fic, Ficlet, Friendship, Romantic Friendship, BAMF Natasha, Pining Clint, rainbow road, alcohol drinking, Not Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie) Compliant, mcu flash meme
Natasha was Rosalina or rather Rosalina was Natasha. Sly, ethereal, sexy, flirty, she brought it home--not a princess but a goddess. And right now both of them were beating Clint's and Yoshi's ass. The little minx.
"I love Mount Wario," she said, her nimble fingers dancing over the controller. Her ATV spraying frosted pixels in its wake.
"Oh, I just bet you do," Clint grumbled as he watched Rosalina weave around the snow and trees like she was on a speeder bike in Star Wars.
Natasha's laugh bubbled mercurial and mellow, green eyes soft with humor.
And then a golden mushroom pirouette around her and zoom she was gone. Yoshi was left eating dust (snow). It was a lonely trip down with Toads and Shy-Guys cheering, but it wasn't for him. No, it was for her.
"That's right," she nodded, her lips quirking into a smile. The blending of Rosalina and Natasha was complete as Nat mimicked Rosalina's victory speech. Setting down the controller, she laced her fingers together stretching them out.
Clint reached for the sweaty beer bottle that was leaving a wet ring on the table beside him. He sucked down the last dregs of Coors and shoved Cheetos in his mouth. Damnit. The Star Cup was hers, but wasn't gonna admit defeat.
"Again," he said, licking sticky orange coating off his fingers.
"Sure. " She nibbled shy on her thumbnail as she glanced at him through her lashes. Her smile more enigmatic than ever as she took a swig of her own beer.
Bone-Dry Dunes was the track he wanted, but as the track queued ready it was anything but. And now knew why Natasha was throwing those coy looks earlier.
"Damnit Nat! I hate Rainbow Road!" He glared at her as her smile grew wider.
"I know."
Clint cringed at the hard track, as Natasha shot him a look that was a dare, a challenge. 'Catch me if you can', unspoken but understood. So carefree, her lips teasing a smirk, eyes sparkling in mirth. Playful, unburdened and seeing Natasha like this was worth it.
Rosalina roared off. And he chased her like a rainbow, a dream, to the end. This was why he loved this game. But he still fucking hated Rainbow Road.
Grace Barnes: Super Soldier Spy Extraordinaire
Date: 2016-01-19 02:51 pm (UTC)Title: There but for the Grace of Go go I
Fandom: Captain America (MCU)
Characters: Bucky Barnes, Rebecca Barnes-Proctor, George Barnes,Winifred Barnes, Grace Barnes, Steve Rogers - mentioned
Rating: G
Warnings: Mentioned infant death, panic attack, hospitals
Summary: Bucky’s never been a big brother before. Well... almost.
Bucky Barnes ain't no coward and that’s just the gods honest truth. There’s no challenge too great for him to overcome, his already lasting friendship with little Stevie Rogers is proof enough of that.
So the fact that even the idea of being near the new baby sets his heart to jack-rabbiting in his chest just beats all.
Even with his mothers tired but encouraging smile, his fathers broad palm warm on his back and Becca smirking knowingly from Mamas side aren't enough to coax him forward. Baby Bessie had been born too small and too sick to survive much longer than the naming, and had been tiny and blue in his mothers arms.
The image is strong in his mind and the new baby in Mama’s arms is quiet and still and he can feel his heart race and his stomach is all twisted and now Mama and Becca are frowning and leaning towards him and he can’t breath-
- and the sound of a sharp cry from Mama’s arms cuts through the fog creeping around his edges and Bucky heaves a sobbing breath at the sign of life and-
- Papa’s talking to him in a low voice, sitting with Bucky on the cold linoleum floor, solid and warm. “-very quiet, she should make a nice change after you and Rebecca, howling like the devil himself was nipping at your heels.” The room comes into clearer view and Bucky slumps, secure in the knowledge that his father would catch him.
“There you are, you’re okay,” Bucky nods against his fathers chest, eyes still on the little bundle, a tiny fist waving in the air as if she knows. “We’re all okay.”
Bucky watches as Mama and Becca talk softly to each other before his sister takes the baby off Mama carefully, smiling at Bucky while Papa helps him to his his feet, guiding him to his Mama’s side and hefting him effortlessly onto the bed to be tucked in against his mothers side.
“Did you want to try holding her?” Mama murmurs in his ear, arms warm around his waist. “ You cans see how strong she is for yourself.”
Bucky looks back into her face before turning to Becca and Baby, swallowing hard before nodding his head slowly, words still too much for him. The bundle is silent again as Becca puts it into the crook of Bucky arms, the fist still waving slightly.
The first thing he resisters is the plump pink skin, the way it shifts when the baby blinks, the next is the wisp of pale hair that Bucky knows comes from his father and finally the blue eyes that Bucky had been told all babies had, though Papa had said they might end up brown like all the Barnes girls.
The babies face scrunches up as they stare at each other, the rest of the family a quiet mummer around them, but instead of the cry he’s expecting she seems to smile, babbling quietly and shoving her fist in his face. The speed of it startles him, causing him to jerk back suddenly, startling all five of them in turn.
There’s a long moment of stunned silence before George Barnes gives a deep snort of laughter, starting his wife and elder children into a fit of helpless giggles while the baby looks at them all with wide blue eyes.
“Well shit, she’s gonna be a challenge,” George says when they've all calmed down. “Maybe Grace isn’t the best name for her.” Bucky grins up at his father while Becca reaches over to ruffle his hair teasingly. “Maybe we should name her Stevie, seems more fitting.”
Bucky shake his head in both fondness towards Steve and to dislodge his sisters hand. “That’s all my poor heart need,” this time Mama is the one to snort a laugh,” Rabbiting outta my chest with worry for two Stevies.”
His family smother a shared laugh out of the corner of his eye as he shakes the finger baby Grace has clenched in her tiny little fist, her big eyes tracking the movement. “I’ve got enough of a challenge on my plate just with Stevie, Bunny, you gotta give your poor big brother a break here.” Bucky smiles widely at his sister as his mother runs a hand through his hair gently.
“Ah, but rising to the challenge is all apart of being an older sibling,” Becca has moved closer to Bucky and race, George moving to Freds other side to wrap an arm around his wife's shoulder to watch their children fondly.
Becca runs a long finger down Grace’s plump cheek and smiles warmly at Bucky who returns it. “And Bunny’s gonna have it better than most ‘cause she’ll have you and me and Steve to show her the ropes.”
Grace Barnes: Super Soldier Spy Extraordinaire
Date: 2016-01-21 01:39 pm (UTC)Title: Panic Attacks, Babies and You (also on ao3 and tumblr)
Fandom: Captain America (MCU)
Characters: Bucky Barnes, Rebecca Barnes-Proctor, George Barnes,Winifred Barnes, Grace Barnes, Steve Rogers - mentioned
Rating: G
Warnings: Mentioned infant death, panic attack, hospitals
Summary: Bucky’s never been a big brother before. Well... almost.
Bucky Barnes ain't no coward and that’s just the gods honest truth. There’s no challenge too great for him to overcome, his already lasting friendship with little Stevie Rogers is proof enough of that.
So the fact that even the idea of being near the new baby sets his heart to jack-rabbiting in his chest just beats all.
Even with his mothers tired but encouraging smile, his fathers broad palm warm on his back and Becca smirking knowingly from Mamas side aren't enough to coax him forward. Baby Bessie had been born too small and too sick to survive much longer than the naming, and had been tiny and blue in his mothers arms.
The image is strong in his mind and the new baby in Mama’s arms is quiet and still and he can feel his heart race and his stomach is all twisted and now Mama and Becca are frowning and leaning towards him and he can’t breath-
- and the sound of a sharp cry from Mama’s arms cuts through the fog creeping around his edges and Bucky heaves a sobbing breath at the sign of life and-
- Papa’s talking to him in a low voice, sitting with Bucky on the cold linoleum floor, solid and warm. “-very quiet, she should make a nice change after you and Rebecca, howling like the devil himself was nipping at your heels.” The room comes into clearer view and Bucky slumps, secure in the knowledge that his father would catch him.
“There you are, you’re okay,” Bucky nods against his fathers chest, eyes still on the little bundle, a tiny fist waving in the air as if she knows. “We’re all okay.”
Bucky watches as Mama and Becca talk softly to each other before his sister takes the baby off Mama carefully, smiling at Bucky while Papa helps him to his his feet, guiding him to his Mama’s side and hefting him effortlessly onto the bed to be tucked in against his mothers side.
“Did you want to try holding her?” Mama murmurs in his ear, arms warm around his waist. “ You cans see how strong she is for yourself.”
Bucky looks back into her face before turning to Becca and Baby, swallowing hard before nodding his head slowly, words still too much for him. The bundle is silent again as Becca puts it into the crook of Bucky arms, the fist still waving slightly.
The first thing he resisters is the plump pink skin, the way it shifts when the baby blinks, the next is the wisp of pale hair that Bucky knows comes from his father and finally the blue eyes that Bucky had been told all babies had, though Papa had said they might end up brown like all the Barnes girls.
The babies face scrunches up as they stare at each other, the rest of the family a quiet mummer around them, but instead of the cry he’s expecting she seems to smile, babbling quietly and shoving her fist in his face. The speed of it startles him, causing him to jerk back suddenly, startling all five of them in turn.
There’s a long moment of stunned silence before George Barnes gives a deep snort of laughter, starting his wife and elder children into a fit of helpless giggles while the baby looks at them all with wide blue eyes.
“Well shit, she’s gonna be a challenge,” George says when they've all calmed down. “Maybe Grace isn’t the best name for her.” Bucky grins up at his father while Becca reaches over to ruffle his hair teasingly. “Maybe we should name her Stevie, seems more fitting.”
Bucky shake his head in both fondness towards Steve and to dislodge his sisters hand. “That’s all my poor heart need,” this time Mama is the one to snort a laugh,” Rabbiting outta my chest with worry for two Stevies.”
His family smother a shared laugh out of the corner of his eye as he shakes the finger baby Grace has clenched in her tiny little fist, her big eyes tracking the movement. “I’ve got enough of a challenge on my plate just with Stevie, Bunny, you gotta give your poor big brother a break here.” Bucky smiles widely at his sister as his mother runs a hand through his hair gently.
“Ah, but rising to the challenge is all apart of being an older sibling,” Becca has moved closer to Bucky and race, George moving to Freds other side to wrap an arm around his wife's shoulder to watch their children fondly.
Becca runs a long finger down Grace’s plump cheek and smiles warmly at Bucky who returns it. “And Bunny’s gonna have it better than most ‘cause she’ll have you and me and Steve to show her the ropes.”