punched_hitler | For all of us who've seen the light

Entry tags:

(mcu),
meme

For all of us who've seen the light

Meme Thread Continuation
From: Here

"Seriously," Steve said quietly, trying to smile nonchalantly, even if he still felt a little on-edge. He took a breath, held, it, then let it out at the question.

"That's the long story part. The short answer is, we've both been on ice. In my case, it was unintentional. In yours - not so much." There. That was the simplest explanation, wasn't it? It was the truth, too, if not all of it. "Honestly, you weren't gone more than a couple of weeks before I... ended up taking a very long nap. I woke up a couple of years ago when SHIELD - that's what the SSR turned into - found me. By accident, it turns out."

He watched Bucky as he spoke, looking for signs that he should stop, that it was too much - or that he could keep going.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only | Expand All

Soon enough the friction was easing and Sam started to respond to the slow, shallow thrusts, meeting Steve halfway. "Much better." He curled his arms around Steve more firmly. "Now get going." He dug his heel into Steve's ass and clenched down ever so gently, trying to show Steve that he was ready to go.

Steve kept a close watch on Sam's face, barely breathing if he could help it, trying to do anything to make sure his lover was getting more comfortable, and not less. So when Sam started moving with him, looking like he was enjoying things more, Steve started to relax, too.

That was, until Sam pulled that move, making Steve's eyes flutter and his back arch, not to mention a soft moan push past his lips. "Oh... yessir," he laughed, but he was already starting to move a little harder, a little faster pushing his palms into the mattress to get more leverage, if he could. That little spot at the base of his spine, right where Sam's heel was digging? It was sensitive, and what Sam was doing felt good.

Sam moaned as Steve started to thrust a bit harder. He let his head fall back, dragging his nails up Steve's back, knowing that he really enjoyed being scratched to hell. Maybe Sam hadn't trimmed his nails in a week on purpose, just because he was hoping this would happen. The grip he had on Steve with his legs loosened a little, the pleasure making his limbs all loose. He shifted his hips a bit, arching his back further and had to stifle a cry as the next thrust hit him right in the prostrate. "Oh, god, Steve..."

Steve could never explain what it was about Sam leaving those scratches that turned him on - whether it was the sharp heat they left behind on his skin, or the little red lines that, unfortunately, healed a couple of minutes after they were done. It didn't matter, although if he'd known Sam had been "preparing" for this all week, he'd have been both flattered, and ready to go another six rounds (or however many Sam could handle). As it was he was enjoying working up to his second release, and quickly, especially as Sam arched and looked like that. Steve always used his reactions to gauge how he was doing, and right now, he figured he was doing a lot better, rocky start or no.

He leaned closer, trying to keep the same angle, but thrust with a little more purpose - though still carefully controlling his strength. He didn't want to break Sam. One hand ghosted down Sam's body, looking for that slightly-flagged erection, wanting to bring it back in full force.

Sam moved his right hand up Steve's back, making sure to claw as he did so, before digging his fingers into the back of Steve's neck, scratching slightly in the short hair there. He willingly moved into Steve's touch, jerking his hips and trying to find a way to both meet the thrusts and also build up a steady rhythm pushing into Steve's hand.

He was reduced to small, moaning noises, all rational thought gone from his mind. Steve was huge, and they were moving together smoothly now, and he would be sore and empty-feeling when they were done, but he didn't care. Steve always left him unable to walk after sex, but it was always worth it, especially when he could keep Steve in bed with him afterwards.

Steve gasped - a very pleased gasp - and focused on the way Sam's nails were pulling his attention in one direction, while the heat and hardness of Sam's body pulled him in another. He always felt a little bad, about leaving Sam pretty boneless after sex, but Sam had never complained. He'd just made sure to yank Steve down into the bed with him, and that wasn't such a bad price to pay, either.

His hips started to speed up, as Sam made all those noises, as their bodies started moving more fluidly. His fingers wrapped around Sam's length, trying to stroke in time with the motions of his hips, pulling out every trick he'd ever learned about how Sam liked to be touched to try and bring him back to that edge, and over it. He leaned down, forehead just above Sam's, and though they were breathing too hard to kiss, it didn't mean they couldn't brush lips past each other's, with every rock of their hips.

Steve speeding up seemed to be doing it for Sam and he moaned, "Steve, I'm gonna..." His hand not on Steve's neck moved down, cupping an asscheek and pulling only slightly. He was so close to tipping over the edge, just a few more hard, fast thrusts and he would be there. His other hand tightened on Steve's neck - not clawing anymore, just squeezing. If it had anybody but Steve Sam would have worried about hurting him but he knew Steve could take this, and tell him if it was too much. "Just a little bit more..."

No matter what he did, Sam couldn't permanently hurt Steve in this position, so he didn't care if Sam let got - a little or a lot. Not when he heard the tone of Sam's voice and felt the way he was grabbing Steve like a lifeline. It made Steve feel even hotter - and it made him want to make sure they finished together, or at least crossed the finish line relatively close. So even though it was what Sam already wanted, Steve started speeding up, pushing harder, pushing himself toward a second climax as his fingers kept working Sam, squeezing a little harder (but not hard enough to hurt, and definitely not hard enough to stave off an orgasm, that would defeat the point). He sure hoped Stark had made this bed sturdy, because Steve might have ended up damaging a few, in a couple of low-rate motels, when he and Sam were on the trail of the Winter Soldier.

Sam finally felt his orgasm roll over him and his eyes rolled back into his head. He went stiff, clenching around Steve, clutching him close at the same time. He came all over Steve's fingers and on his own belly then relaxed a little. He didn't let go of Steve, just went loose-boned and relaxed. It had been so long, and Sam was almost seeing stars as he started to recover. He looked up at Steve, smiling, scraping his nails up and down Steve's back.

Steve felt Sam stiffen, then his body tightened, just before he felt him spill over his fingers in the small space between them. He grinned, absently, feeling triumphant even as he tried to get his hips under control, make his movements smaller, tighter, trying to push himself over that edge, too, now that Sam had come. He lasted a few more short, hard thrusts, but by the time Sam scraped his nails over Steve's back, it was enough to send his body over the edge. His forehead dropped next to Sam's as he groaned - trying to keep it quiet, finally letting go as his hips pressed one more time into Sam's as he came, shivering a little with the effort - and the pleasure as his body gave in.

Sam hummed, feeling Steve's release pulse inside him. He switched from scratching Steve to simply running the tips of his fingers up and down Steve's back. He shifted his legs, letting his feet simply rest on the sheets. "It's been way too long," he said quietly, stroking his other hand through Steve's sweat-dampened hair.

The change in touches made Steve shiver, slightly, his mouth stretching into a broad, relaxed grin as his body sank down a little, though he was careful to keep his weight on his elbows to avoid crushing Sam. His eyes fluttered at the feel of fingers touching his hair, and he tilted his head enough to at least brush his lips over Sam's temple, nodding slightly. "Yeah. Sorry. That's my fault." He'd been a man on a mission, and Sam had gotten dragged along for the ride - but without a lot of the benefits. "That felt good."

"Yeah, it did." Sam grinned and closed his eyes at the kiss to his temple. "It was your damn fault, but it's hard to argue about sex with a super soldier even though it's been more than a week." He didn't blame Steve at all - Bucky had been all Steve had thought about for the past few months and Sam knew he took a back seat to Bucky, no matter what Steve might have said to protest that. "Now get out of me, you big lug." He pushed at Steve's chest playfully.

"No, I think it's just hard to argue about sex with me," Steve laughed, mostly because he knew he was damn stubborn. "But you should give it a go. Remind me how much I like it." And he tried to prove it, with a last slow kiss to Sam's lips, before he felt that hand on his chest.

"But I like where I am," Steve teased - even as he started moving, because he definitely didn't want to make Sam uncomfortable or sore - well. More sore. So instead he slid out of Sam, carefully, and moved to prop himself up on his side on the bed. "Are you tired?"

Sam smiled, though his eyelids fluttered when Steve pulled out of him. He moved a hand to his belly, where his own come was splattered over his dark skin. "I don't know if I'll ever be able to be with anybody else after you. You've ruined me for any other lovers." He grinned and rolled, tangling his legs with Steve's. "I'm a little tired, yeah." He blinked tiredly then said, "I might sleep, I think." He would regret not taking a shower when he woke up with his legs stuck together from Steve's come leaking out of him, but Steve was warm and comfortable and Sam leaned forward to relax against him, slipping a hand over his hips.

That compliment definitely made Steve flush, this time with true modesty. "I... didn't think I was that great," he tried to tease, though he didn't look exactly displeased, when Sam moved to tangle their legs together. Just because Steve had the stamina to get up and go several more times didn't mean he had to; he was pretty worn out, too, and while he knew they should shower, he didn't want to get up, either. They could shower in a little while. "Yeah... if you do, I will," he agreed, thinking just a little bit of sleep would be a nice reprieve from... well, himself. Sam had managed to clear his mind of all that worry. A part of him didn't want it back, just yet. "Thanks. For... uh, for letting me make things up to you." For the distraction.

"Oh, not a problem at all." Sam grinned. "You should mess up more often, so you can make it up to me." He grinned and leaned forward, pressing his lips against Steve's. He blinked tiredly then rested his head on Steve's chest. He was tired and well-fucked and Steve was like a radiator. "I'm gonna sleep." And he was almost immediately dozing, tucking himself up in close to Steve. "Wake me up in a little while, and we can shower," he said sleepily.

"Don't tempt me, or I just might," Steve teased, though his words were a bit cut off by that kiss. He could tell that Sam was pretty wiped out, though, and just made himself comfortable as the other settled against him. "Yeah. Good plan. I'll try and keep an eye on the clock." He'd probably doze, rather than sleep, which meant he could check the time every time he woke up a little. Even if he didn't need a lot of recovery time, it still sounded nice, and he was comfortable here with Sam against him. He slid an arm around Sam, holding him close as he pressed against Steve's body.

Unfortunately, JARVIS was waking them up a little over an hour later. "I hate to interrupt, Captain, but Dr. Goss says she needs to speak to you. Immediately. Bucky is... upset."

Sam jolted awake at the sound of the AI's voice and groaned. He rolled away from Steve, dragging the sheets up higher. But he was already awake. He opened his eyes and stared up at the ceiling. He looked over at Steve. "You should go to him. I'm going to shower." He sat up with a wince but got to his feet anyways, stumbling for the bathroom. He was sore and every step sent a jolt up his spine, but he didn't really mind it.

Steve bolted upright the instant JARVIS spoke; he's not sore like Sam is, but he was enjoying the sleep and he'd dozed off a little more heavily than he anticipated.

He blinked blearily, but the instant JARVIS said Bucky was upset, he was moving. He'd managed to roll out of bed by the time Sam had started to get up; he felt bad, seeing the way Sam was wobbling and wincing, even if the other man didn't seem to mind. Steve was already looking for his clothes; if he arrives downstairs a little rumpled, well, it just can't be helped. This is important.

"Yeah - hey." He jogged over to Sam, pressing a quick, desperate kiss to his lips before heading for the door to their little suite. "I'll see you in a bit."

Then he was running, full-scale, for the cell.

Sam smiled. "Yeah, see you in a bit."

Dr. Goss turned when Steve came in. "He was fine for a while. I was sitting here, observing. For some reason, he switched from the Solider personality to Bucky and then..."

Bucky was sitting in the middle of a destroyed cell. His mattress was flung against the wall, sheets everywhere and torn, the bed frame twisted.

Bucky was staring straight at the mirror, features blank. It was hard to tell if it was Yasha or Bucky just yet, but it could have been either of them.

Steve flinched when he saw the destroyed remnants of the cell. He stepped up to the glass, staring, but the face looking back at him was just blank. It gave him the chills. "Can I talk to him?" he asked, glancing back, but his hand was already going for the door. "I want to talk to him. Something's obviously wrong."

Dr. Goss hesitated, then nodded. "Yes. Please be careful, though, Captain."

He looked up when he heard voices on the other side of the door. He felt off, a mash of a broken-glass touch and an iron-hard first. He felt caught, trapped between the two extremes. He had torn apart his cell in a fury, and was now stuck.

"I hadn't started the therapy yet. It's possible one of them overheard our plan, though. Yasha could be trying to assert himself over Bucky, or the other way around. He may be volatile."

"When am I not?" he tossed over his shoulder - a bad joke, because Steve Rogers had the tendency to do just the opposite. He wasn't always careful - with himself. But he would be careful with Bucky. Always.

He opened the door, slipping through and closing it behind him to protect Dr. Goss. Steve held up his hands, tried to look neutral, but friendly - but he was ready, if the Soldier decided to spring. "Hey, buddy," he said, slowly. "Redecorating?

He looked up when Steve came in, spinning and raising his right arm up. There was a long, deep gash along his forearm, gushing blood, that hadn't been visible from outside the room. It was already starting to clot - Bucky's serum had left him with heal rates close to Steve's, but unlike Steve's, Bucky's body would simply heal around a bullet instead of push it out, or heal right around cloth. There was no finesse, just brutal efficiency. It also left him scarred where Steve was unmarked. Bucky's body was a mess of bullet wounds and stab scars.

He asked calmly, voice an odd blend of Russian and Brooklyn accents, "What are you going to do with us?" He met Steve's gaze calmly, expression inscrutable.

no subject

no subject

no subject

ahh I'm sorry for being so slow life has been crazy busy XD

Haha no worries!

<333!

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject