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megamindsecretlair · 6 months

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It Started With a Whisper - Chapter 9

Chapter 8 Chapter 10

Pairing: Sam Wilson x Black!Fem!reader / Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+. Minors DNI. You are in charge of your own reading experience. Some sentences are intentional AAVE. ANGST. FILTH. Cursing, oral (fem and male receiving), fingering (fem receiving), PIV, slight cum play, possession kink if you squint, pet names, referring to male anatomy as "he", Dom Sam, Hurt/Comfort, super fluffy towards the end. Sorry if I missed some!

Summary: You are the front desk clerk who started a few months ago and you somehow managed to snag Sam Wilson, the handsome and sweet trauma counselor. Sam wakes up with only ONE thing on his mind.

Word Count: 3,382k

Masterlist

A/N: I am SO sorry this took forever. I missed yall LOL. Sam wasn't speaking to me and I went down some They Cloned Tyrone brainrot tunnels LOL. Boyega...mmm.. Anyway! Hopefully, we can more or less get back on schedule. Sam woke me and reader up on some bullshit! Could not concentrate at work because I was frothing to get this out. So enjoy this pure filth. Likes are always awesome. Please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! I love hearing your thoughts!

Taglist: @multiversefanfics @chaos-4baby @leahnicole1219 @capswife @anghstybean @targaryenvampireslayer @sheabutterbabes @browngirldominion

A tight coiling in your belly forced you to wakefulness. You moaned as you woke up. The raspiness of your voice grated over your ears. Another swipe to your clit made you twitch with a hiss.

Sam moaned and kissed the side of your thigh. “Mornin’ beautiful,” he said.

His tongue swiped against you and you scrunched your face, unable to handle the sensation. “Sam?” You asked. But his heavenly tongue worked against you and you ended up moaning his name.

“Fuck, say it again just like that,” he murmured against your incredibly wet pussy.

“Unf, oh god, Sam? What happened to the go-ahead from the doctor?” You asked. Your legs were pushed up to your stomach. You had gone to sleep the night before in one of Sam’s shirts and your panties. He had groaned and said you weren’t playing fair.

You merely told him that it was encouragement. Wishful thinking for the clean bill of health from his doctor.

“Went yesterday,” he said. He licked you like you were an ice cream cone on the hottest day of the summer. Your hand flew to his head, pressing him closer. Now that you were awake, you felt everything.

Your body was like a live wire, responding to every lick and suckle. “Wha- fuck - why yesterday?” You asked.

“Couldn’t wait,” he said. His words were sloppy and slurred. You looked at him. He was devoted to eating you out. He moaned and returned to your pussy, flicking that sensitive little nub with his tongue.

“So why–?” Your body collapsed as you came, a slow unfurling of wave after wave of pleasure. Your legs shook and trapped Sam’s head in between your legs. He had pulled your panties to the side so he played with the damp material while you came down.

Sam wiped his chin on your thigh then licked up whatever remained behind. He grinned at you and you swore your heart stopped. “You do not know how fuckin’ long these two weeks have been for me,” he said.

“Didn’t you go a year before we had sex?” You asked.

“I have never felt like this with anyone else,” he said. He kissed your thigh and hummed. “Every piece of you I want it tenfold.”

You sighed and opened your mouth to say something. He returned to eating you out, suckling and running his tongue all over your pussy. He went slower, drawing circles. You gripped his head.

“Oh fuck! Sam!” You cried out. He felt amazing in between your legs. What a fuckin’ way to wake up!

You felt boneless. Your free hand flopped uselessly against the bed. Clutching the bedsheets and releasing it. Sweat gathered on your brow. “Oh fuck, oh fuck,” you moaned.

The second orgasm rushed through you, setting off bombs within your body. Your body detonated, splintering you in tiny shards.

“That’s it, little one,” Sam cooed. “You’re so damn gorgeous when you cum. I wish you could see yourself,” he said.

You shook violently as you came down from this one. You pushed at Sam’s head. You were overly sensitive. If he touched you with that tongue again, you were not responsible for your actions.

Sam chuckled as you pushed his head away. He got to his knees and crawled up your body. His hands snuck under the shirt you wore and he plucked your nipples like a guitar. You hissed and jerked. His thick fingers rolled your sensitive nipples in between his fingers. He kissed up your neck, your jaw.

Finally, his lips slanted against yours and you sighed into the kiss. You ran your hands across his bare back. He was so damn scrumptious. Sometimes, you had to take a mental step back and pinch yourself. How the hell did you get so lucky?

Sam slipped his hand up the shirt, out of the collar, and wrapped his hand around your throat. You moaned, widening your legs so Sam could fit better.

“All I did was dream about getting back between your legs,” he said as he placed strategic kisses on your jaw.

Was this the same man from before he went on the mission? He seemed…so different. More in control. More settled.

“I know, you nasty ass. You were getting shot at and still managed to call me about getting back in here,” you said. You played with the edge of his briefs.

He kissed your cheek and flicked his eyes up to yours. “Wouldn’t you do everything you could to get back to heaven?”

“Shut up! Corny ass!” You said and giggled. But deep down, your belly flipped.

Sam kissed you, cutting off your giggles. He kissed you expertly, exactly how you needed to be kissed. He sucked your bottom lip into his mouth and you groaned. You whined when he bit down, tugging on your lip. You felt it like a tug in your pussy. You squirmed, fresh arousal gushing between your legs. He licked the sting away.

“I’m the nasty one, but you the one making a mess,” he said. His free hand that remained on your chest now moved south. He trailed his index finger around the outer parts of your pussy lips. You felt his hand swirl around your arousal.

“S-Sam?” You asked. You weren’t sure of your question. Sam only returned to kissing you, loving on you, while one finger continued to play around the edges of your pussy. He seemed like he was going to finally push in further and play with your clit. Perhaps dip his finger into the core of you.

He did none of those things. He ran that single finger up and down, getting to the outer rim of your entrance before retreating up and down your slit.

Your legs were shaking noodles. Your eyes were closed trying to process all of the different sensations. He was trying to kill you. Kill you with seduction. His hand squeezed on your throat and you moaned. You were sure he felt your clit throb. It ached. Bordering on painful.

A puddle formed underneath you by how wet you got. You lost track of time. Not caring how many hours or days passed as Sam edged you. Your teeth began to chatter as he made out with you.

“You okay, little one?” He mocked. Knowing fuck well you were anything but.

“Sam, please. Mercy,” you begged.

“Oh! You want mercy?” He asked.

You looked at him and nodded. You gave him puppy eyes, rolling your bottom lip in between your teeth.

“Aww, poor little one. You think that’ll work on me?” He asked.

You gasped and he chuckled at your expression. He kissed his way to your ear. His warm breath fanned across your neck, tickling you. But you were too far gone to laugh. You were wound tight. Needing to cum but he wasn’t letting you.

“Sam, please.” You placed your hand on top of his, but he wasn’t letting go of you any time soon. It took tremendous effort to say those two little words. One touch, that was all you needed.

“So, which is it? You push my head away and now you want me to keep going,” he said. He hummed as he thought. His finger kept up his torture and every now and then, he squeezed your neck to make sure you were still with him.

He took his finger off of you and brought it to your lips. “Suck,” he said.

You opened your mouth and sucked your juices from his fingers. You kept your eyes on him so he could see the raw hunger in your eyes. You would agree to sell your left kidney if it meant he’d let you cum. He groaned watching you.

He dropped his head into the crook of your neck. He placed a sloppy kiss there. His tongue brushed over your pulse point and you jerked.

“I need…”

“Mhm. I know what you need. You gonna stop pushing me away?” He asked.

“Feel too good,” you moaned around his fingers.

“I know, I know,” he cooed and licked your neck again. Your legs jerked, wanting to close them, to get some friction. But he was poised in between your thighs and there was no way to close them. You were stuck, with no friction and a demonic man who didn’t want to let you cum.

He chuckled darkly. “Get these wet for me, I’ll stop teasing,” he said. He pushed a second finger into your mouth. You sucked on him like you wanted to do his dick. You swirled your tongue around the tip of his fingers.

He chuckled. “Keep on and see if I won’t keep you here forever,” he said. He withdrew his fingers. Wasting no time, he pushed them inside of you and you cried out.

“P-promise?” You asked.

He kissed you and pumped his fingers inside of you, pistoning them. Your pussy squelched loudly in the room. The wet smack only turned you on more.

“Don’t test me, little one,” he said.

He pressed his thumb against your clit and you came immediately. It was like he set fireworks off inside of you. You twitched, your body going boneless once more. Sparks set off behind your eyes, random flashes of light behind your eyelids. You were yanked from your body, torn from it, torn inside out, and put right back together.

“So fuckin’ gorgeous. So fucking pretty. Need you,” Sam murmured plenty of sweet nothings against your throat, kissing and licking around his hand still around your throat. You panted as you calmed down.

Your eyes stared unfocused at his ocean blue walls. You had no words. No rational thought in your head beyond wow.

Just a few weeks ago, he had you mumbling incoherently off of a few orgasms. You were approaching that limit and you weren’t sure if you could take more. Sam hadn’t even entered you yet. You felt rolling waves of heat radiating off of his skin. His covered dick strained against your thigh.

You licked your lips as if you could already taste him. “Need you, need you so bad,” you slurred against his lips. His tongue delved inside and you moaned at the mingled taste of you and him.

“I don’t think I could last that long, little one,” he said, his lips dancing across yours.

He set off a dangerous fever beneath your skin. You were driven mad with need. With urges. The urge to touch and seek and make him feel half as good as he did with you. You pushed forward, somehow finding the strength to move.

You pushed him onto his back and crawled on top of him. You kissed down his chest, far too interested in getting to him that you didn’t want to tease. You didn’t want to play games. Your hands greedily pushed his briefs down, freeing his bobbing thick dick.

He chuckled at your enthusiasm. “He missed you too, girl,” he said.

You swallowed him down in one fell swoop and his hips bucked off of the bed. “Shit!”

You slobbered on him, getting him nice and wet before going to town on him. Sucking him down as you teased his tip. You braced yourself on his thick thighs and bobbled your head up and down, taking him as far down as you could.

Your tongue played with the head, juicy leaks of pre-cum filling your mouth. You swallowed that down. You were like a hungry gremlin, sustaining off of his moans and hisses and “oh fucks”.

His hands slipped into your hair, pulling you closer. Making you take him faster. “That’s it, little one. So good. Mouth feels so good. Oh fuck, show me you missed me,” he moaned.

Did he have no earthly fucking clue how much you missed him? Missed this? You, the girl who kept everyone at arm’s length, were begging for his company. Not in so many words, but…shit, did you need to prove it to him? How lonely these weeks had been?

Ariel was a godsend. But you had to lay up at night, worrying your guts out that he was in danger. You barely left his side since he’s been back, opting to stay over at his place longer and longer each night. To the point that he would chuckle and say it was too late for you to drive so you might as well stay over.

Did he not hear what you meant when you said he was yours now? There was no hemming and hawing. There was no going back on your word. He was it for you. You were ruined for any other man. You didn’t want anyone but him.

You poured all of that frustration and eagerness and feelings into slobbering on his dick. Your wet slurps were words you couldn’t speak. Your added hands to his shaft and balls were feelings you couldn’t name. Your hums and moans on his dick were binding ropes that you twirled around you two.

“I wanna cum in you,” he moaned.

Your pussy clenched around nothing hearing those filthy words. But you kept going. Kept working him. Kept reaching for every sigh, hiss, moan, and sound from that sexy ass throat. You wanted it all. You wanted him. You sucked hard and he unloaded into your mouth. His hot, pulsing cum splashed down your throat and you drank him down. Drank every last drop.

He shivered underneath you. You felt the muscles in his thighs bunch and contract. You released him with a wet pop.

He lazily got to his elbows and looked at you. His face was bunched as if he were mad at you. In a short amount of time, you were getting used to his expressions. Getting used to how he projected his thoughts onto his face. He did it on purpose, to let you in. You knew that he had to fight to close that side of him off while away on mission. You saw his face on the news.

This was not anger. It was like he understood what you were trying to do. The way you were trying to wrap him in your heart and keep him safe forever. The way you were trying to write your true feelings in the seams of his soul.

He took off his underwear completely, chucking it to the floor. He helped you pull off your shirt and motioned for you to kick off your underwear as well. He scooted up the bed and motioned for you to follow. You straddled him and he groaned. He was still hard.

He lifted you and then you sank down slowly onto his length. He stuffed you completely, bringing him home in a way you couldn’t put into words. When he was fully seated, he rubbed your arms, sides. The underswell of your boobs. He watched you as he did so, his head crooked to the side.

You relaxed more and more into him. You didn’t realize you were so tense. His soothing hands worked magic on your skin. Lulling you. You swayed a bit and leaned forward, resting your hands on his shoulders for balance. It brought you closer to him, your nipples rubbing against his chest.

It also put you at a new angle and his dick twitched inside of you. You shared a groan and giggled at it. He kissed you lazily, rolling his lips softly against yours. It was at odds at how he revved your engines earlier, you were getting whiplash.

“I’m right here, little one,” he whispered against your lips.

“I know, Sam,” you said. You opened your eyes and looked at him. He stared at you as well.

“I mean it. I’m right here. Feel me, touch me. I’m right in front of you,” he said.

You looked at him like he lost his mind. Of course he was right in front you. You felt his dick twitch every so often. He braced his feet against the bed and moved his hips, moving you along his hardened length. You moaned and bit your lip. You were so full of him and wrapped up in him. You circled your hands around his neck and he chuckled. He kissed your lips again.

“Baby, I’m right here. I didn’t die. I came home to you,” he said.

You reared up, leaning away. He wrapped his hands around your waist and held you against him. “Sam..”

Your panicked voice was new to you. Sam made soothing shushing noises and rubbed your back.

“Feel me, baby. Please. Don’t back away,” he whispered. He moved his hips and moved within you, letting you feel every slow glide of him.

You relaxed against him, putting your head on his chest. You touched him like he asked, running your hands along old scars, new scars, his thick biceps. His broad shoulders. Along his close cut fade.

You moaned softly at the way he moved, how amazing he felt. If only you could stay this connected.

“Sam,” you said. Tears gathered in your eyes. A knot of tension untangled from your chest. Each string slowly unfurled, loosened, and the relief was staggering.

“That’s it, baby. I’m here, in flesh and blood. I promise you, I will keep promising you that I will come home to you. I will never be where you can’t touch me. Where I can’t hold you. Where I won’t let you know every single day that I’m yours. I’m safe. I’m here.”

You softly cried against him as he pulled another orgasm from you. This one was soft, tender. An acknowledgement that he wrung anything he wished from you. There was nothing you wouldn’t give him. It should scare you. You’d known him a few months and only started this a few weeks ago. But you felt nothing but safe and supported.

You brought your head up and kissed him. He kissed you back. There was no hurry. Because he was right. He was right there, beneath your fingertips. You could touch him whenever you wanted. Feel the strength of him. Listen to his heart beat. Hear his breaths. Feel the wind fan across your neck.

Sam groaned, releasing his climax. You continued to make out, memorizing his soft lips. The way he sighed. How warm his hands felt against your waist and back. He rubbed your back and looked into your eyes.

“How you feeling?” He asked.

“How did you know?” You asked.

He smiled. “I know you. I don’t know how. But I know you,” he said. He kissed your cheek.

“I was so scared, Sam,” you said.

“I know. I’m sorry. Things moved so fast. But can you understand why I needed to?” He asked. He glanced at you, communicating too many things at once. You placed your fingers against his lips.

You smiled. Kissed his lips with your fingers in between. “I do understand why, Sam. I’m not asking you to choose. I know what I’m getting myself into with you. You’re a great man,” you said.

He chuckled. “You make me want to be a better man.”

“You already are, I promise,” you said. You put your head on his chest. You took deep breaths to smell him. To ingrain his scent in your nostrils. His heart thumped rhythmically.

It beckoned you to sleep. Sam would still be here beneath you all night if you wanted. You knew that in your bones. Unfortunately, you couldn’t fall asleep like that. He left you to get a towel and clean you up. You groaned about the huge wet spot on the other side of the bed.

“I’ll lay right there. You get some sleep,” he said.

“No, it’s okay. I made it,” you said.

“Aht, save your strength, little one. You’re going to need it,” he said. He tapped your nose and followed it with a sweet kiss. He climbed into bed on the other side, scooting against you and tucking you against him.

“Are you threatening me with a good time?” You asked sleepily.

“Got damn right. I got a lot to make up for. Some payback for you trying to suck the soul outta me,” he said.

You giggled and fell asleep to the sweet cadence of his heart.

Masterlist | Chapter 8 | Chapter 10

#Megaminds Secret Files #The Secret Sam Wilson Files #marvel smut #Sam Wilson x Black!reader #Sam Wilson x Black reader #x Black reader #Sam Wilson x Fem!reader #Sam Wilson x Fem reader #Sam Wilson x reader #Sam Wilson x you #Sam Wilson imagine #Sam Wilson smut #Sam Wilson marvel #Sam Wilson fanfic #Sam Wilson fan fic #Sam Wilson fanfiction #Sam Wilson fan fiction

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fluffyprettykitty · 2 years

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Introductory

Pairing: Sam Wilson x shy! female reader (no other specifications)

Word Count: 1400 words

Outline: The first time you gave Sam his favorite nickname and much more than that.

Warnings: daddy kink, fingering, penetration, first time.

Author’s Note: Based on this blurb! :)

P.S: dividers by @firefly-graphics// banners by @maysdigitalarts

Main Masterlist ・❥・ Sam Wilson Masterlist

NSFW UNDERNEATH THE CUT. MINORS DNI.

It hasn’t been a long time since you met Sam Wilson, the famous Captain America but it was enough for you to know that he was the one. Sam was perfect in every way, a pure gentleman, doting and caring, and above all a sweet and patient man.

There was an age gap between you, you were in your late 20s and Sam had just turned forty and yet he never felt discouraged by your shyness or your insecurities. Not everybody walked the same path in life.

You stayed often at his Washington DC apartment, drinking, eating, dancing, and doing all the cute things couples do and make out a lot and anywhere you could find.

You weren’t too comfortable with intimacy, whether it was past relationships or just general your own mind, Sam never pressured you or drifted away from you. He wanted you and he could wait for as long as you needed to and he’d never want you to feel uncomfortable.

Now it was a Saturday night, a week after his birthday where you were both on the bed, clothed and laying next to each other. Your hands drew circles on his chest while he told you an old story about his time in the military.

Yet your hand wants to wonder tonight, there’s something in the air, something thick that allures you in. You drag your hand all the way down to his crotch and all Sam does is raise an eyebrow and drop a low baritone ‘Excuse me?’ You only smile softly as you begin to trace his clothed crotch with your fingers.

Sam always lets you take your time with his body, wasn’t the first time touching him, won’t be the last. He knew how sexual tension was a thing of the moment sometimes. He always encourages you to feel confident in your body because he will love you no matter what and he genuinely liked you for who you were.

He knew how to teach you confidence, how to make you see your body through his eyes, and how to help you build up your self-esteem. He always stays close to your ear, explaining to you exactly how you make him feel, how you turn him on with your voice or your body, or anything else.

The first time he placed you in his lap in front of his mirror, tracing your body with his fingers had you soaking wet, and yet when you told him you weren’t ready yet he complied and even encouraged you to finish on your own and that’d he’d in the living room.

And so it happened.

The first time you let him watch your fingers on yourself, you did so under the covers, watching him as he gazed at you intensely, his hands firm on his thighs breathing in and out. He cursed hard when you screamed his name when you finished, his warm chocolate eyes guiding you to the purest ecstasy.

And he didn’t mind when he went discreetly to the bathroom.

The next time you let him work on his cock in front of you and he was more than happy to oblige. Watching him work on himself as his big hand wrapped around his girthy and veiny cock had you whimpering and moaning a lot but he still kept his distance as you wanted.

The first time he fingers you, you tell him you prefer the lights off. You were afraid he might now have liked what he’d see. But he didn’t mind, his goal was to make you cum as much as he could and as intensely as he could with his fingers.

Which of course he managed. It was hard for you to close your legs even hours after the session.

Then he takes you to the mirror again, this time naked, and explains to you again what he likes, what he would like to kiss and feel on your body. Every single part. And you let him, finger you sensually with his dexter, his lips on your shoulders kissing you and praising you again and again.

Now, your hand wraps around his clothed erection which makes him breathe heavily.

“What do you need darling?” He asks in your firm voice, looking at you.

“I need you. I think I’m ready.”

“Are you sure?”

“I am, Sammy, I am, I promise.” You nod your head and try to push his trousers down but he stops you.

Sam proceeds to take them off for your pushing down his trousers and taking off his shirt as you watch him with your mouth hanging practically open. He looked beautiful.

When he pushes his boxers down to reveal his cock springing free against his stomach, thick and long and looking so inviting.

“God, you look beautiful daddy.” The word falls off your lips without thinking it further and yet it’s what you call Sam in your head when you are masturbating.

Sam’s eyes glisten, a new feral feeling overcoming as he looks at you.

“What did you call me, princess?” He repeats and his voice hangs so low that fills your ears with your pleasure.

You’re too embarrassed to repeat it though so you only go back to taking off your clothes and then laying back down on the bed. Sam follows you, kneeling down on the bed and kissing your thighs and your pussy and your stomach, leaving a soft yet demanding trail of kisses.

“May I?”

“Yes, daddy, please.”

And his neck cracks at the word again and he shuts his eyes as he lets what feels like a mixture between a prayer and a curse.

Sam then starts slow no matter how feral the words made him feel but he knew, he knew you needed to open up. There was no way you could take his cock just like that.

He starts with his favorite finger scisorring it around as your hands touched your breasts arching your back at his movements, letting a series of moans hang in the air.

Then he adds another one, twisting and twirling them around, making you nice and open for him.

And then he adds a third one and your hand wraps around his wrist begging him to enter you, that you can’t take it anymore.

He takes his time though, lining up his cock to your entrance, pouring lube over it and on your pussy to make sure you are as wet as possible. And when his face comes close to yours, he wraps your lips in a kiss, his hands on the sides of your face and shoulders.

And he feels your mouth hanging open when he pushes his cockhead inside your pussy. The pleasure is immense, he is stretching you out so good, that it makes your legs tremble. You never thought he could be this big, he could feel this good and he could fill you like this.

And that was only the tip.

“Don’t think you will last on anything more.” He chuckles watching you as you tried to back your hips. It felt too good that your body was moving on its own.

“D-daddy!” You plead and he only slowly begins to move his cock against your body.

The pleasure is immense and overwhelming, it was everything you expected and more. The burning stretching sensation quickly feels like heaven, as your hands are holding tightly onto his muscles. His body strength moves you against the bed as he is pushing more and more of his cock inside you.

“You feel good?”

“Yes, it feels so good, daddy!”

His eyes are fixated on you as he is moving your body glancing down to watch how your pussy is slowly taking more and more of him.

When he puts a finger on your clit rubbing it, it makes you see stars. The tightness inside you grows so deep that a few more rubs have you wetting his finger and screaming his name in pleasure.

He finishes one moment after you, quickly managing to pull away from you and instead finish on your thigh by proximity, panting heavily as he collapses next to you.

“Sam…” You breathe out, and he reaches out to pull you into his arms and kiss your forehead.

And it definitely wouldn’t be the last time. Far from it.

If you want to be notified about my future stories please follow my library blog @fluffyprettykittylibrary and turn on post notifications! inbox is always open for thots and concepts!

#sam wilson #sam x reader #sam wilson smut #sam wilson x you #sam wilson x reader #sam wilson moodboard #sam wilson x female reader #sam wilson x y/n #sam wilson x fem!reader #sam wilson one shot #sam wilson imagine #sam wilson marvel #sam wilson captain america #sam wilson fanfiction #sam wilson fic #captain america x you #captain america sam wilson #captain america smut #selenewrites

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imtryingbuck · 6 months

Text

Skinny Love

~ gif not mine credit to owner ~

Pairing: Sam Wilson x fem!Reader

Summary: Sam finds you singing Skinny Love by Birdy

Word count: 709

Warnings: Angst. Swearing. Mentions of child violence/death and child and human trafficking, sex slaves. Please do not read if the warnings makes you uncomfortable!

Masterlist

“Come on, skinny love, just last the year. Pour a little salt, we were never here”

The soft melody travels through the long hallways of the compound, reaching the ears of the team minus Y/n and Sam.

“Buck go and get him” Steve instructs.

Not wasting any more time Bucky jumps up and runs straight to Sam’s office. Not caring to knock he barges straight in.

“She needs you, Sam”

Leaving his paperwork half-finished he follows his friend, his feet start to falter as soon as he hears the warm and powerful notes of her piano. He knew that the last mission of hers was rough, she told him she wasn’t ready to talk about it and being an understanding boyfriend that he is he knew she would talk to him when she was ready.

As much as he understood that she wasn’t ready to talk he just couldn’t help himself but look at the report file. Don’t judge him, he was concerned.

Bucky pats him on the shoulder, nodding to his friend and they part ways.

“My, my, my, my, my, my, my, my, my, my, my

Staring at the sink of blood and crushed veneer”

The mission briefing report stated that there was a group trafficking women from the Middle East, they were being sold to the highest bidder as sex slaves. Y/n had worked for the FBI Human Trafficking Prosecution Unit before becoming an agent of SHIELD. So naturally Fury picked her for the job.

“Tell my love to wreck it all. Cut out all the ropes and let me fall”

However, it’s wasn’t adults that were in the warehouses but children. Despite her seeing all the bad shit that happens in this world nothing could have prepared her for what she did see.

“My, my, my, my, my, my, my, my, my, my, my. Right at the moment, this order's tall”

Nearly 30 little girls. All under the age of 10. In all the years she’s been doing her job she never faltered, never once had she ever had to walk away to be sick.

Only seven of these poor innocent girls survived.

“And I told you to be patient. And I told you to be fine. And I told you to be balanced. And I told you to be kind”

She made sure she was the one who took the survivors home to reunite them with their grieving families. She made sure she personally told 23 parents that their baby was no longer here.

Sam would have tried to talk her out of it, if he had known.

“And in the morning, I'll be with you. But it will be a different kind. 'Cause I'll be holding all the tickets. And you'll be owning all the fines”

Standing in the doorway of their shared suite, he watches as her fingers effortlessly move across the keyboard, hearing her usual silky voice with a tinge of husk broke his heart.

“Come on skinny love, what happened here? Suckle on the hope in light brassiere. My, my, my, my, my, my, my, my, my, my, my. Sullen load is full, so slow on the split”

Since she’s back home she’s been plagued by nightmares. Nightmares that would cause her to wake Sam up with her screams.

He would hold her tightly every time, reassuring her that it’s just a nightmare.

Every time his heart cracks a little bit more.

“And I told you to be patient. And I told you to be fine. And I told you to be balanced. And I told you to be kind”

Slowly walking towards her, he smiles softly when she looks up at him. Taking a seat on the empty space of the bench he leans over to place a lingering kiss to her temple.

“And now, all your love is wasted. Then who the hell was I? 'Cause now I'm breaking at the bridges. And at the end of all your lies. Who will love you? Who will fight? And who will fall far behind? Come on skinny love”

He clings to his world as she falls apart.

“My, my, my, my, my, my, my, my, my, my, my, my, my, my, my, my, my, my, my, my, my, my”

~ banner credit goes to @sweetpeapod ~

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unadulteratedfandomtrash · 2 years

Text

Sam Wilson x Reader ~ Safe & Sound [Pt.3]

A/N: Hi, guys. I am sorry I took so long to post this final chapter. I had to put a halt to everything in order to focus on some personal matters. I still need time, but I hope to be able to post more consistently in the future. Please enjoy this final part to my Sam Wilson mini-series. Thank you to everyone who has been supporting this account and my writing! I love you all. [Pt. 1] [Pt.2] [My Marvel Masterlist] Word Count: 1979

– Previously –

“Tony!” Sam immediately shouts for the genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist. His nerves feel as if there is molten lava coursing through them. He cannot keep still. “I just got a confirmed location and visual on them.”

“Perfect,” the man in question lands right beside Sam as he replies. “Give me and Rhodey access to that camera feed so we can get to work right away.”

“On it.”

Without a moment’s hesitation, the camera feed is shared with the two men in the suits. Tony works on leading his army of AI-controlled suits with James manually shifting aside the smaller pieces of concrete as Sam notifies Scott of their initiation

– Now –

Dust and dirt billows into the air as the Avengers all work together to remove the smaller blocks of concrete and metal to get to the center where their fellow teammates are trapped within. Beads of sweat run down their foreheads as the harsh sun shines brightly in the sky. The mixture of sweat and all those particles leads to a sticky layer of grime clinging to the heroes’ skin.

Despite the exhausting labor, all of the Avengers, especially Sam, refuses to stop. The worse case scenario keeps running through his mind, leaving him even more panicked than before. He knows better than to escalate the situation by being careless, referencing the techniques he learned and taught to the veterans he worked with back when he worked at the verteran’s affairs office, but there is only so much he can do. He is only human, and humans have their limits—(Y/n) being injured is his limit.

A loud chirping beep startles the former airman out of his spiraling anxieties. Looking over to his right, Sam notices that the beeping from his drone is much louder than it was ten minutes ago, prompting him to look down at the gauntlet on his arm; the screen displays the three subjects being tracked: Red Wing, (Y/n), and himself. All three dots are clustered very close to one another.

Surveying the area, Sam notices some precariously balanced concrete slabs blocking the path closest to his injured girlfriend. He grits his teeth in frustration while shouting to gain the attention of his teammates.

“Guys, I just found the fastest route to reach (Y/n), but the debris here is very unstable. I don’t think we should proceed, bu-”

“We’re gonna have to proceed,” Tony interjects. “With the utmost caution, of course, but time’s running out. We’re losing sunlight.”

“But how are we gonna get to her without dropping the remaining chunks of the building on top of her, Stark? That’s not a risk I am willing to take,” Sam rebuts angrily. He understands why Tony is insisting this, but the fear of losing (Y/n) trumps and rationale.

“We’re going to do this together,” Steve announces from behind, stepping up to place a comforting hand on Sam’s shoulder. “This will put our teamwork skills to the test, but given all the training and this given situation, I am confident we’ll all succeed in this rescue mission.”

Taking a deep breath in, Sam steels himself for the upcoming events that will soon take place. “Okay, let’s do this.”

“Easy, easy! Don’t pull yet, Rhodey!”

“Steady, Wanda!”

Tensions rise as each member of the team puts in all of their effort to pull away the debris at the same time to prevent any collapses. Wanda has a few of the larger chunks waiting in her glowy-red grasp, waiting to be levitated into the air as Tony and Rhodes get ready to work together to pull their own concrete boulders with the help of some heavy duty cables scavenged from the aircraft’s storage compartment and Bruce adjusts his hold on a block from the base of the pile as the Hulk. From above, Natasha is sitting in the pilot’s seat of the Quinjet, ready to swoop down to transport (Y/n) over to Helen for medical treatment; Steve and Clint are the ones in charge of running in to grab her as soon as the debris is lifted away.

Sam, on the other hand, is in charge of instructing everyone how and when to move their respective pieces, and to be honest, he hates it. Being the newly-appointed as the orchestrator of this rescue mission is adding on to his already astronomical stress levels. Any wrong move could lead to the death of his girlfriend and teammates, so the man makes an effort to keep a clear mind and concentrate on the problem at hand.

“Okay, we pull away on three,” Sam announces. “Everyone good to go?”

A chorus of agreements and confirmations sound off in response, and as soon as every hero has replied, Sam takes a few deep breaths.

In.

Out.

In.

Out.

In.

Out.

“One.”

Everyone tenses up. Their muscles contract and strain, readying themselves for the moment when they need to be put to use.

“Two.”

A small, minute distance between the ground and the blocks of debris begin to form. There is a loud, deep rumbling of the concrete shifting. It scares them, but nothing has happened yet, so they push forward.

“Three.”

Thrusters, cables, and muscles groan and stretch in complaint as every ounce of effort is put into pulling the debris up and dragging it away. Sam keeps a close eye on each Avenger’s progress, calling out anyone who was moving either too slow or fast in comparison to the rest of the team. It takes quite a while—they work very slowly to maintain as much control over the situation as possible—but after eighteen minutes of hard work, Sam is able to see (Y/n), Scott, and Red Wing behind the concrete.

Unfortunately, their success is cut short when segments of the concrete slab being lifted by Tony and Rhodes break away, descending down towards (Y/n)’s head. A panicked shout leaves all of the heroes’ lips, but all Sam can hear is the blood pounding in his ears.

Before any of them can react, Scott jumps into action. He is quick to return back to his normal size, throwing himself on top of (Y/n) with his arms caging her sides as his back shields the woman from the falling debris. The solid chunks of cement strike against Scott’s unprotected backside, but he pays no mind to the pain, focusing instead on ensuring that (Y/n) does not become injured any further.

A mantra of “thank you’s” escape Sam’s lips as he looks down at the camera feed Red Wing is providing, sighing in relief at the sight of Scott re-evaluating (Y/n) just in case his body could not deflect all the debris. There is a thin layer of dirt dusting over her skin, but none of her injuries have worsened since the excavation.

“Alright, guys, let’s get moving,” Steve’s voice cuts in, interrupting Sam’s thoughts. He realizes that the captain probably predicted his lapse in concentration. “I want to get (Y/n) out of here ASAP. Clint and I are headed over now, so I better see the Quinjet within the next few minutes.”

Having squeezed himself onto the small and uncomfortable plastic chair provided by the hospital staff, Sam waits patiently (Y/n) sleeps through the medications in her system. A part of him grows impatient—he wants her to wake up at this very moment to reassure his frantic heart that everything is okay now—but Sam knows better than that. After the chaos that has taken place over the span of less than twelve hours, (Y/n) deserves all the rest she can get.

As if she could feel the waves of anxiety exuding from her boyfriend, (Y/n)’s hand begins to twitch. This movement does not go unnoticed by Sam. He watches with bated breath as she gradually rouses from her medicated slumber, bleary eyes blinking away the figurative heaviness weighing down on her eyelids. Her eyes slowly survey the room in search of something, or someone, and once they find Sam, a small whine is all she needs to let out in order for him to immediately move to comfort her.

“Hey, beautiful. I’m right here. Don’t move just yet. You’re in the hospital,” Sam gently explains with a hand over (Y/n)’s, “I’ll go get a nurse to help get that tube outta your throat. Just gimme a second, I’ll be right back.” Sam is out of the room before the young woman can even blink; she barely had time to process what he had said to her. She uses the time to examine her surroundings: admiring the colorful blur of flowers and balloons crowding the bedside table, squinting when her eyes meet the harsh, bright lights above, and relishing in the softness of the blanket beneath her fingers.

For a moment, (Y/n) wonders why her fingers can feel something warm and soft when hospitals only ever provide thin sheets that may as well serve as tablecloth until she cranes her head to look down. Tears well up in her eyes upon noticing that Sam had taken the time to go back to their apartment to retrieve the blanket he had gifted to her for their first anniversary. The plush fabric envelopes her in a cocoon of warmth, both literal and metaphorical.

“I’m baaaack,” Sam calls out playfully as he re-enters the room with a nurse trailing behind him. “See, I was so fast you probably didn’t even notice I was gone.”

Despite how painful it is to verbally articulate her thoughts with a tube in her throat, (Y/n) manages a small smile. Her goofy boyfriend always manages to find a way to brighten a somber situation. His jokes might be corny and cliche at times, but the energy he puts into them never fails to make everyone laugh, or smirk at the least.

Finding her hand once more, Sam waits patiently at (Y/n)’s side as the nurse removes any unnecessary equipment. He cracks a few more jokes during her brief assessment, and once she declares his girlfriend to be on the path to a speedy recovery, he quickly thanks her before proceeding to shoo the poor woman out of the room.

“What,” he asks innocently upon seeing the stink eye directed at him. “Can I help you?”

“She was just doing her job,” she rasps out, her voice hoarse and scratchy thanks to the intubation tube. “You didn’t need to rush her out like that.” “I’m just tryin’ to maximize the time I can spend with my girl before the lady comes back to kick me out for the night.”

With the shake of her head and a playful frown of disappointment, (Y/n) slowly shuffles to the edge of her bed with a groan. Sam immediately rushes over to scold her, but is met with a soft “no.” He stares at her incredulously, but seeing the determined look on his lover’s face, he decides to help her instead, gently tucking his arms under her.

“And may I ask why my seriously injured girlfriend has decided to move from her perfectly comfortable spot on the bed to the very edge of the mattress,” Sam teases while setting her down. Cords and tubes are meticulously rearranged to avoid becoming tangled, or worse, before blankets are piled back on over her.

“Cuddles.” “Oh.” A proud smirk stretches across Sam’s lips as he gingerly crawls into the vacant spot beside (Y/n), wrapping a comforting arm around her shoulder. “Is this my payment for rescuing you?”

“No.” The smirk disappears, a pout replacing its place. (Y/n) has to force down the giggle that wants to bubble up to the surface. “This is.”

A quick kiss finds its way to the man’s cheek before a familiar weight settles on his shoulder. Looking down, Sam finds her head nestled between his arm and chest, cheek squished almost uncomfortably into his pectoral. Given the situation, Sam wants to scold her in fear of disturbing any of her injuries, but he cannot find the heart to do it. (Y/n) has always been a very touchy person—she craves physical contact, and seeks it out during stressful times—so seeing her pressed up against his body, Sam realizes she needs the close contact with him. It provides her with a sense of security and warmth that words can never convey.

“Payment accepted,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to her head. “I’m just glad you’re back in my arms, safe and sound.”

The End

Tag List

@pono-pura-vida @wanniiieeee @brujademente @justanothermagicalsara

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nastybuckybarnes · 6 months

Text

Car Rides

Pairing: Bucky X Reader

Summary: Road trips are usually pretty boring, but you and Bucky find a way to pass the time.

Warnings: Smut, Public sex, Car sex, Language, Fluff, Mutual Pining,

Word Count: 1.8K

A/n: I got this request AGES ago apparently and I'm only just seeing it now! hope y'all enjoy!

~*~

"Can you move your seat up?"

There's a brief pause, almost like Sam's thinking about it, before - "no."

Silence hangs heavily in the car for a long moment as Steve drives and you can't help but feel bad for Bucky.

He's squished in behind Sam, While you've got a decent amount of room behind Steve.

"We can switch, if you want?" You offer quietly, nudging Bucky's knee with yours.

"Steve's not stopping the car just so Terminator can feel more comfortable," Sam interjects, ignoring the ice of Bucky's stare.

"I'm sure we can switch spots while he's driving. We've done far more on missions with less room, I have faith. Unbuckle your seatbelt."

"Yes ma'am."

You take off your own seatbelt, ignoring Steve's warning look in the rearview mirror.

"Okay, I'm gonna climb over you in the middle seat so when you scoot over I'll climb over and then we'll be set!"

Foolproof! Brilliant!

Bucky scoots over to the middle and you take a deep breath, preparing yourself, then grab his shoulders and stretch one leg over his lap.

Steve chooses that particular moment to hit a bump in the road, sending you tumbling into Bucky and forcing his face into your chest.

Your shirt of choice today is fairly low cut, leaving little to the imagination, even less now that Bucky's face is pressed to your goods.

Regaining your coordination feels like it takes a lifetime, but you eventually manage to pry your boobs out of Bucky's face and plop down in the seat behind Sam.

Your heart hammers in your chest and you avoid looking at Bucky with all your might as you put your seatbelt on.

It's no secret that there's tension between the two of you that has only been growing the more time you spend together, but now? Now that you pretty much forced him to motorboat you?

Horrible. Stupid. The worst idea you've ever had ever.

You almost pray for the car to roll off a cliff to save you from the embarrassment licking up your spine.

The ride is silent for a little while, with some of Sam's music being the only thing stopping it from being too heavy, and soon his soft snores accompany the tunes.

After maybe about half an hour, Bucky's knee brushes against yours once briefly, then rests against it more firmly, with purpose.

Your gaze darts over to him but he's got his eyes focused out the window. You let your eyes fall to where he's manspreading into your personal space, and freeze when your eyes land on the bulge in his pants.

The bulge that certainly was not there before the two of you switched spots, not that you looked.

And now you can't tear your eyes away from it.

Sure, all this time the two of you have been flirty and a little more than friendly, but never to this extent.

Your eyes raise to his face once more and your heart stops for a moment when you meet his gaze.

You're caught now.

Swallowing hard, you glance at his crotch once more then turn to look out your own window, squeezing your thighs together in an attempt at fighting the warmth that's quickly spreading.

Bucky rolls his window down, and the light mechanical whirring sound masks the soft gasp that leaves you when his hand lands on your thigh.

You glance down at where his hand is, watching as his fingers flex as he squeezes your supple flesh.

Your body acts on its own, thighs spreading slightly and giving him the green light he needs to slide his hand up closer to your centre.

Eyes focused on the rearview mirror, you slowly grab Bucky's discarded jacket and drape it over your lap while spreading your legs further, successfully hiding his fingers as they dust over your core.

"Cold?" He asks, glancing at you as he slides his hand down your pants.

You swallow hard and nod, leaning back and breathing through your mouth as he slides a thick finger through your folds.

"With the window open it's a little breezy, but the fresh air is nice," you whisper, breath hitching when he rubs your clit gently.

He nods his agreement, coating his middle finger in your essence then slowly pushing it inside of you.

"Clears the head."

You nod, eyes falling shut as he begins a steady pace, pushing on your walls deliciously slow.

"Exactly," the words are a mere breath on your lips as you lose yourself in the feeling of him.

He leans his head back, his eyes focused on your face as he massages your walls, pulling his finger out only to push two right back in.

He watches as you pull your bottom lip between your teeth, brows furrowing as you try your hardest to stay quiet through the slow building pleasure.

It's almost torturously slow, and he knows that, but watching your small twitches and movements has Bucky's dick growing hard enough to cut diamonds.

"We got a good day for this, huh?" Bucky asks, grinning when you struggle to open your eyes.

"Yeah it's... good... it's really good," you whisper, eyelids fluttering slightly before you finally raise your glassy eyes to his.

"I could go for a snack soon though, something sweet to eat."

"Mhmm," you let out a soft moan of agreement as he slips a third finger inside you, pumping them in and out at a slightly faster speed than before.

Not fast enough to draw attention to the two of you, but fast enough for you to be struggling to keep still.

"Next gas station isn't too far out. They probably won't have much but we can stop there to grab a snack and stretch," Steve's voice says from the front seat, his eyes glancing at you and Bucky in the rearview mirror before focusing on the road again.

"Sounds good to me," Bucky says, his voice low and his mischievous eyes focused on you as you nod your agreement.

You dig your head back into the headrest, toes curling in your shoes as his palm rubs against your clit with every thrust of his fingers inside of your wet heat.

He stretches your walls deliciously, enhanced senses picking up the tangy sweet smell of your cunt on every gust of wind that blows through the car.

He can't help but lick his lips, greatly looking forward to tasting you once he's finished enjoying fingering your tight snatch.

Eyes slowly opening, you let your head roll to the side eyes finding his as you breathe softly through your mouth.

He grins cheekily at you and stuffs his fingers inside of you a little harder, watching in smug satisfaction when your face screws up with a mixture of pleasure and pain.

The car slowly rolls to a stop and Steve lets out a groan.

"All right. I'm gonna stretch my legs and grab a snack. Are you guys coming in?" Steve's eyes find Bucky's as he opens the door.

Sam jolts upright with a groan, rubbing his face then yawning and pulling off his seatbelt.

"I'm gonna come inside," He says groggily, stumbling out of the car and stretching.

"I think we're good back here, she's falling asleep," Bucky whispers, giving your clit a particularly rough rub before pulling his fingers out of you.

Sam and Steve head into the gas station, and as soon as they are out of sight Bucky is tossing the jacket off of your lap and yanking your pants down your legs.

He licks his fingers clean while using his other hand to undo his belt and shuck his pants down his thighs, exposing his weeping hot cock.

"We don't have much time, sweetheart, better make it count. N'when we get to the cabin I'll fuck you nice and slow and proper," he promises quietly.

You straddle his waist once more, wet core dripping onto his lap and Bucky can't help but hiss when he slides his aching cock through your folds.

He rubs your clit a few times then slides inside in one quick thrust, pressing his mouth to yours to swallow the sound of your moan.

With the window open, you guys aren't exactly safe. Anyone could drive or walk by and Sam and Steve will likely only be gone for a few minutes.

"Fuck, you feel so good, baby... shit..."

His voice is strained as you begin rocking your hips in his lap, eyes squeezed shut as the tip of his cock drags across your g-spot.

Rather than let you have your fun, he flips you onto your back in the back seat of the car and hammers his hips down to meet yours, his lips trailing over your throat as you moan softly at the new angle.

He's hitting your g-spot with every thrust, and kissing your cervix with every other roll of his hips.

The pleasure and pain mix and make your head foggy, and it doesn't take long for your toes to curl around Bucky's hips and your climax to creep up on you.

Metal fingers toy with your clit with expert precision, and within only a few moments, your walls are clamping down around him and successfully milking him of his cum.

He lets out a few shuddering breaths as his own orgasm washes over him, balls tight as he pumps you full of ropes and ropes of thick white cum.

His head rests on your chest for a moment, breathing you in as he basks in his high, and then he's carefully pulling out of you and yanking his pants back on.

You, on the other hand, are stuck on your back as aftershocks wrack your frame.

Chuckling softly at his handy work, Bucky helps you back into your pants then pulls you up into his arms.

You collapse against his chest when he leans back against the door, cuddled in his arms as much as you can in the cramped backseat of the car.

He holds you gently, his own eyes closing as he relaxes into his post orgasmic bliss with you.

Your heart is racing even minutes later when Sam and Steve return to the car, each climbing in quietly when they see the two of you curled up together.

Steve sets a grocery bag full of snacks and drinks down on the floor in the backseat, then turns the music on quietly and starts driving, oblivious to what's just gone on.

As he drives you settle against Bucky, falling asleep gently while his load drips out of your swollen cunt. A mess he plans on thoroughly cleaning up as soon as you reach your destination.

#Bucky X reader #Bucky X reader smut #Bucky Barnes x reader #Bucky X reader fluff #bucky fanfic #bucky smut #sam wilson #Steve rogers #bucky barnes #marvel smut #marvel fanfic #Bucky/reader fluff #Bucky X you #bucky/reader #bucky/you smut #bucky/reader smut

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ace-bucket · 2 months

Text

Happy 107th Birthday Bucky Barnes 🎉

#bucky barnes #steve rogers #sam wilson #natasha romanoff #stevebucky #marvel fanart #marvel #a little birthday celebration with nat and sam :)#didn’t think bucky would appreciate the loudness of a party popper so I drew sam throwing confetti instead #cap quartet #my art

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littleredwolf · 21 days

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Hungry Eyes

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary: The team overhears Nat and Y/N's 'girl talk' through the comms and feelings surface as a result.

Warnings: Suggestive content. Sex references.

Words: 956

A/N: I don't know what this is or where it came from, but if this goes down well I may write up something a little spicy for a part 2 *eyebrow wiggle* PART 2 CAN BE FOUND HERE

“Bucky's done nothing but undress you with his eyes since you walked in,” Natasha's husky voice came over your earpiece and your eyes snapped to the super soldier on the other side of the room, your cheeks reddening to find him already staring in your direction.

You let your gaze casually pass over him, playing the brief moment of eye contact off as a coincidence as you scanned the room for the mission, but your heart was pounding and you were sure he could probably hear it.

“Doubtful,” you scoffed, though you couldn't ignore the tingle that travelled up your spine at the thought of Bucky finding you attractive. You'd had the hots for him for months, but your fear of rejection strongly outweighed your desire to tell him so you'd kept your little secret to yourself…and Nat of course.

“Stop living in denial, anybody with half a brain can see how he practically drools over you every time he sees you,” Nat argued, and you rolled your eyes as you continued to survey the room. “Don’t roll your eyes at me, it’s true.”

“Stop watching me, you know it creeps me out when I can’t see you,” you hissed, eyes roaming the crowd in an attempt to spot the redhead.

“If you could see me, I wouldn’t be very good at my job,” she teased, and you resisted the urge to roll your eyes again.

“Just hurry up and do your job, Romanoff - the quicker we finish and I can get out of this dress the better,” you stated, readjusting the silky garment that Natasha herself had picked out for you. It suited your cover well, but it was a little provocative for your usual tastes.

“I’m sure Barnes would agree with you on that one…”

“As much as I’m enjoying watching Bucky squirm from this conversation, head’s up that this is an open channel,” Sam’s voice cutting in over the comms caused any reply you had prepared for Natasha to die on your tongue, the blood draining from your face as you turned to look at Bucky.

The super soldier was no longer on his mark, but as you searched the crowd you caught a glimpse of him as he was making a swift exit. More than anything you wanted to follow him, to defuse the awkwardness and recover from the embarrassment of him overhearing Nat’s comments, but you stayed rooted to the spot, unable to leave your position.

“Go,” Nat urged, as though sensing your inner turmoil. “Me and Sam have got this.”

A quick look towards Sam confirmed that he agreed, and you wasted no time in hurrying towards the same door Bucky had gone through moments ago.

Surprisingly, he hadn’t gone very far, and you found him leaning against the wall in the foyer. Heat rushed to your cheeks as his eyes landed on you, and you smiled sheepishly as you approached.

“Hey Buck,” you softly said as you reached him. “Sorry about what you heard back there - Nat was just teasing, she didn’t mean any of it.”

“Didn’t she?” He asked, raising a single eyebrow.

“What?” You frowned, unsure how to interpret his response. There was a way you wanted this to go, but you didn’t want to get your wires crossed and make even more of a fool of yourself.

“You said she didn’t mean any of it, but how can you be sure?”

He pushed himself off the wall and fixed you with an intense gaze, making your knees weak and your breath short. You didn’t dare look away - afraid that if you did, this moment would end.

“I-uh…I don’t know what you’re getting at here, Buck…” you stammered, too dumbfounded to form a better response. You were very aware of how close the two of you were and the smell of his cologne and warmth emanating from his body was making your brain short circuit.

“Then let me show you.”

There was no hesitation as he took your face in his hands and pressed his lips to yours, and you melted into him with a whimper. The sound gave him the encouragement he was looking for and he spun you round so that he could press you up against the wall, moaning into your mouth as you raked your hands through his hair.

Everything around you ceased to exist and all sense left you as you gave into your desires, the feeling of Bucky’s hands roaming your body setting your skin on fire. You couldn’t believe this was happening, you’d never even let yourself hope that Bucky might actually feel the same, yet here you were, making out with him while his sizable bulge pressed up against you.

Had Sam not cleared his throat over the comms, you were sure you’d have let the super soldier take you right there and then, regardless of the fact that you were in public and on a mission.

“Channel is still very much open, guys,” he informed, and Bucky’s eyes widened in horror as he pulled away. You giggled and gave him a quick peck on the lips.

“I’m not even sorry,” you told Sam teasingly, straightening up and readjusting your dress. You were aware of Bucky’s eyes on you and you looked up to meet his hungry gaze.

“I can’t wait to get that thing off you when we’re finished here,” he blurted, and you bit your lip as heat flooded your core.

“Then we’d better hurry up and finish,” you replied, taking him by the hand and leading him back to the main room so that you could get the mission, and later on your clothes, out of the way.

PART 2

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky imagine #bucky x reader #bucky x you #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #marvel cinematic universe #mcu #avengers #sebastian stan #fatws #winter soldier #natasha romanoff #sam wilson

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kayvsworld · 10 months

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marvel bring them back i am no longer asking

#@ THE MOUSE ARE U LISTENING........#they're just so good.....................#sambucky #sam wilson #bucky barnes #marvel art #mine

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notafunkiller · 3 months

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best daddy ever

Summary: When Sam drops by unannounced, he discovers something new about Bucky.

Pairing: thunderbolts!Bucky Barnes x female reader

Warnings: teasing, pet names, daddy kìnk, language, no mention of y/n

Word Count: 1K

Bucky Barnes masterlist

A/N: I really hope you’ll enjoy it!

Please, do not repost or translate without my permission!

“You know that’s not funny, right?”

You giggle when you hear his broody tone as you make your way to the kitchen. You don’t realize that his words are not directed at you until you almost have a heart attack.

Of course you scream in shock when you see Sam sitting casually at your table while Bucky is leaning against the fridge with his arms crossed.

He immediately rushes toward you, though, when you place a hand on your chest. Your heart is beating so fast.

“Are you okay, honey?”

The way he casually wraps his arm around your waist casually to pull you closer in front of Sam makes you melt. You might never get used to him initiating PDA, but it makes you really happy.

“I’m okay, I’m sorry for screaming.”

You know he’s about to scold you for apologizing, but thankfully Sam speaks first.

“Hi, cutie. No worries, I came to annoy your tinman.”

You don’t even have to look at Bucky to know he’s rolling his eyes, his grip tightening on your hip as he groans.

“How many times do I have to tell you not to call her that?”

“So you don’t think she’s cute?”

You bring your hand to his chest just to distract him a bit. Sam loves to push his buttons almost as much as you do.

“Yeah, James, don’t you?”

You know you’re playing with fire after earlier, but it’s too fun not to. Especially when he gives you that look... you’re in trouble look. And you love to be in trouble with him.

“Get out of our house, Cap, so I can show her exactly how cute I think she is.”

Neither of you expected this since you both gasped. Bucky is sassy, that’s for sure, but you didn’t anticipate this type of casual sexual innuendo comment. Because he meant sex, right? There is no way he didn’t unless he is cruelly teasing you in vain.

“Guess the Winter Soldier is not so wint-” But Sam doesn’t finish his sentence, throwing his hands in the air in defense while still laughing when Bucky looks at him again. “Glad it still works, I was a little worried.”

“No need to worry, Sam, I promise.“ You smirk, patting Bucky’s ass twice before going to the coffee maker, stealing a whine out of him. “Want to stay for breakfast?”

“No,” Bucky answers for him, and you roll your eyes. You know Sam doesn’t mind his attitude because he’s known him for a long time, but you still want to be a good host.

“I can make crepes if you-”

“Doll, please.”

Sam looks at Bucky, then at you, and winks, smiling widely. “I’m leaving, I’m leaving. But don’t forget what I told you and stay out of trouble.“

It’s too vague for you to understand, so you’ll just wait for Sam to be gone to interrogate Bucky.

“Goodbye, Cap.”

And there he is, softer Bucky. You grab a cup for him too, and he smiles. You’ve never seen a more beautiful man in your entire life. He is magnetic and charming, and you feel like kissing him all the time. You don’t know how you managed to get him as your boyfriend, but you’re grateful.

“What is this? Oh my god, you kinky old man!”

Confused, you immediately make your way to the living room, following Bucky. You don’t know what Sam could have seen to say that, and you definitely didn’t expect him to hold Bucky’s cap in both of his hands, analyzing it. Your gift... Shit!

“Best. Daddy. Ever?”

You close your eyes, embarrassed, but Bucky, surprisingly, doesn’t seem to feel the same way. You don’t sense any shame or change in his vibes or posture. He simply stares at Sam as usual and snatches the cap from his hands.

“That’s mine.”

“I realized, daddy.” Sam can’t stop laughing even when he turns his head toward you. But when he sees you all serious, his face drops. “Or do you mean…”

“Mean what?“ You snap, a bit annoyed about the fact you two got busted in such a stupid way. And it’s all Bucky’s fault since he’s the one who left it there.

Only when Sam lowers his eyes to your belly, do you realize what he means.

“No, she’s not pregnant, idiot!”

“So you really have a fucking daddy kink? How do you even know-“ He stops mid-sentence, still totally taken aback, and Bucky sneaks behind you to open the entrance door. “How did you manage to corrupt this old man?”

You can’t help but laugh this time. If only he knew the truth...

Bucky puffs, pushing Sam out. “Goodbye, Sam!”

Thankfully, before Bucky could close the door in his face, you manage to say goodbye and wave:

“Trust me, I was not the one doing the corruption with this.”

You wish you could see Sam’s face. What a loss!

“He won’t stop talking about this, you know that, right?”

“You’re the one who left it here, so blame yourself.”

You take the cap from the table, where he put it, and walk straight to him, getting on your tiptoes before placing it on his head. Bucky looks at you with a mix of surprise and amusement as you adjust the cap to sit just right. He is the best daddy ever, indeed. If Sam heard how dirty Bucky could get during sex, he’d die. Contrary to what he believed, Bucky is the one who came up with this whole daddy thing while you were in the middle of fucking raw, right after he finished a mission. It rolled shyly but naturally of his tongue, and of course you liked it. You love calling him daddy even if you do it just to tease him. But it must be so hard, probably, for Sam to picture this mountain of a man, quiet but also sassy, knowing his past, like this.

“You’re staring.” Bucky smirks, and you feel your knees weakening. God, that smile! “And you’re horny.”

“What if I am? Gonna take care of me, daddy?”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader smut #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes smut #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic #mcu #sebastian stan #sam wilson #blurb #bucky barnes blurb #my fanfics #my stories #tfatws

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womp-womp-chomp-chomp · 3 months

Text

Sam coming home to find Bucky watching strange unsolved mysteries: whatcha doing?

Bucky, watching intently: seeing how many of these was me.

Sam: …how many did you find so far?

Bucky: around 8, I’m still not sure about the one.

Sam: 😨

#bucky barnes #marvel #incorrect mcu quotes #incorrect marvel quotes #incorrect quotes #sam wilson #mcu #source: me #sambucky #incorrect sambucky #winterfalcon #james bucky barnes #james barnes #winter soilder #white wolf

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lunarbuck · 1 year

Note

" Are you wearing my shirt?"

AHHHHHH thank you for the ask alice <3

pairing: Sam Wilson x f!reader (any race)

wc: 1.5k

Sneak Peek: I know what I want, what I’ve wanted since the moment I laid eyes on you all those months ago. I just need you to say the word.

warnings: swearing, oral (f receiving), smut (p in v), fluff

my masterlist | 1.5k sleepover

You grumble to yourself as you walk down the hall, your t-shirt sticking to you like a second skin. You know it was an accident, but still. No one enjoys getting beer dumped down their chest.

As you approach Steve’s door and shove it open, you look around for his bag. The safe house is smaller than what you’re all used to, and everyone’s rooms are not only closer together than normal but way smaller.

Since Steve did all the spilling, he told you you could steal one of his shirts. It’s only fair. You find his go-bag open on his bed, and as you dig through the few clothes the man brought, you find a soft, olive-green t-shirt and tug it out. It’ll be big, but you’ve always loved an oversized T-shirt.

You tug off your beer-sticky shirt and replace it with the new shirt you’ve found. The door swings open as soon as you pull the shirt over your torso. There in the doorway, in all his wet, half-naked glory, stands Sam Wilson.

Your eyes follow a drop of water as it trails down his gorgeous muscular chest, his firm abs, and the v of his waist. The water continues its way down below the towel that’s wrapped tightly around Sam’s hips, and for a moment, you wish you were that drop of water.

Sam clears his throat, pulling your attention back up to his face. He grins confidently. “My eyes are up here, sweetheart.”

“Shit, sorry,” you stammer, suddenly embarrassed at the way you’d just ogled the man. Sam has always had this effect on you; his ability to draw you in with just a glance makes you weak in the knees. His charisma, his charm, are all your kryptonite. Whenever he comes into a room, it sends butterflies bursting in your chest. But he’s never seen you that way, at least, that you know of.

Sam can have any girl he wants. Why would he pick you?

“Are you wearing my shirt?” he asks, stepping further into the room. You feel your heart begin to pound in your chest. Is this his shirt?

“I– I don’t think so,” you answer, trying not to stare back at Sam. “I grabbed it from Steve’s bag.” Sam cocks an eyebrow, and a small grin appears on his lips.

“That bag right there?” He motions with his head to the bag you’d just gone through, and your stomach flips.

You nod.

“I like seeing you in my clothes,” he tells you, voice unwavering and calm. He steps even closer, forcing you to step back to try to keep the distance between the two of you. Sam’s resolve never breaks; he never loses himself. It’s something you admire about him but also something you can’t help but want to change. What would it be like if he just… gave in?

“It’s a nice shirt,” you say, internally scolding yourself for not having something better to say. Sam smiles, laughing lightly.

“You’re right, it is,” he agrees, turning to face you. “But I think what matters more is the girl wearing it.” Your fingers tingle with anticipation for what he’ll say next. Months of pining after this beautiful man has kept you on edge.

“Oh,” you breathe. Sam has managed to walk you back into the wall with nowhere to escape. But there’s not a bone in your body that wants to escape. No, you’re perfectly happy to be here, pressed against the wall by Sam.

Sam takes a moment before he replies. He runs his fingers up and down your arm, feeling the soft skin there. “I’m glad you’re here,” he tells you in a whispered voice. “In my room.” His fingers trace up your shoulders and neck until his hands cup your face. “Wearing my shirt.”

You’re putty in his hands, melting at his touch. Want and need settle in your belly, and you ache for him to close the distance between you two.

“Sam,” you whisper.

“Sweetheart,” he replies. “I know what I want, what I’ve wanted since the moment I laid eyes on you all those months ago. I just need you to say the word.” The smile he gives you makes your world stop turning. It sends you tilting on your axis.

“Please.” Sam’s lips are on you a breath later, sealing your fate. He kisses you sweetly, but you can tell that he’s barely holding back the fire and passion he feels. You want him to let go, to stop holding back.

Your hands fly up around his neck, pulling him closer, and you let your fingernails scrape slightly against his scalp. His hands leave your face, instead finding their way to your waist so he can bring your hips to his.

“I’ve wanted you for so long,” he practically moans into your mouth, pressing himself against you. Even through the towel, you can feel how hard he is, how much he wants you.

“Then take me.” It’s like a switch flips in his head. In an instant, he tears the towel off, leaving him naked before you. You do your best to tug your pants down your legs, but when you go to take off the shirt, Sam stops you.

“Uh uh,” he teasingly scolds, shaking his head as he kneels in front of you. “When I fuck you, sweetheart, you’re gonna be wearing my shirt. Screaming my name. Coming apart on my cock.” You swear your heart stops beating in your chest. As the last word leaves his lips, he presses a kiss to your clothed clit. Sam soon remedies this, though, and the moment you’re exposed, he devours you.

All you can do is hold on to him for dear life as he eats you out with a fervor you’ve never experienced before. He eats you out like a man starved, like you’re the first drink of water after he’s been lost in the desert. Every time his teeth graze over your clit, you see stars, and when he presses two of his thick fingers inside of you, you nearly keel over.

“You taste so sweet,” he tells you, sucking a mark into your inner thigh. “Just how I knew you would.” Sam plays you like a fiddle, feeding the fire in your belly until you’re about to fall over the edge.

“Please, Sam,” you whimper, fingers digging into his shoulders. “Please.” He smiles up at you, and the sight alone nearly makes you come.

“Come all over my face, sweetheart. Lemme taste it.” Your orgasm hits you like a truck, sending you spiraling. Sam doesn’t slow down; he just works you through it, prolonging the pleasure until it becomes too much. When you finally push his face away, he stands, a million-watt smile on his lips.

“Oh my god, Sam,” you say, laughing as you come down from the high.

“You’re perfect,” he says, leaning in to kiss you. The taste of yourself mixed with him is intoxicating. Sam reaches around you and picks you up, walking you over to the bed. He lays you down carefully, and you take in the sight of his sculpted body.

“Please fuck me, Sam,” you whisper, surprising yourself. Sam flashes you a big smile in response. He takes a second to grab a condom from his bag, and you watch as he rolls it into his length.

When Sam returns to the bed, he hovers over you and kisses you breathless before lining his cock up with your pussy. When he presses into you, you bite back a moan at the perfect way he stretches you.

“So tight, sweetheart. So fucking perfect.” Sam sets a perfect pace, hitting spots so deep inside you that you see stars but quick enough to build your pleasure all over again. His lips worship your lips and neck, pecking and nipping at your skin. His hand anchors on your hip, holding you where he wants you.

Everything works together to bring you right back to the edge. Sam doesn’t let you come yet, though. He watches your reactions and changes his pace to tease you. The entire time, he whispers words of praise of how well you take him, how good you feel. You’ve never felt so cared for during sex before, and his words alone could make you come at this point.

“Shit, baby,” Sam grunts, thrusting deep inside of you. “Need you to come for me now, sweetheart.” You nod, moaning wantonly. Sam snakes a hand between the two of you and uses gentle fingers to circle your clit.

“Please,” you moan, moving your hips with him. “Please, Sam.”

“Come for me, sweetheart. Come all over my cock.” You come apart under his touch, writhing and moaning as you fall over the edge. Your vision practically blacks out, and Sam picks up his pace as he follows you in finding his orgasm.

Sam rolls off of you with a sigh, tugging you into his side. His fingers trace over your back, feeling the soft fabric of his shirt against your skin. “You should wear my clothes more often,” he jokes, tickling your sides. You laugh and snuggle closer, soaking in the smell of him and the way his body feels against yours.

You make a mental note to steal another one of his shirts as soon as possible.

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megamindsecretlair · 3 months

Text

It Started With a Whisper - Chapter 11

Chapter 10 Chapter 12

Pairing: Sam Wilson x Black!Fem!reader / Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+. Minors DNI. You are in charge of your own reading experience. Some sentences are intentional AAVE. FLUFF. ANGST. Cursing, mentions of grief, violence against Black men, Soft Sam. Sorry if I missed some!

Summary: A year after dating Sam, things began shifting in your relationship as you two grow on this journey through a superpowered world. You go to the Avenger's party after the opening scene of Age of Ultron and later on a date with Sam where he shares devastating news.

Word Count: 4,491k

Masterlist

A/N: I mentioned there was ANGST so don't throw tomatoes at me LOL. Thank you so much for your patience with me. When a fic isn't speaking to me, I have to let it lie for a moment. Likes are always awesome. Please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! I love hearing your thoughts! I block ageless blogs.

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You were freaking the fuck out on the elevator. You were in Iron Man’s house. Technically, not yet as you were still in the elevator on your way up. But still. You were in a place only a few were privy to.

Sam stood next you, looking as dashing as ever in a red shirt and black jacket, keeping it casual. You decided to do the same, wearing a simple blue dress and flats. You were not going to fall on your ass in front of these people. At least not from heels.

The doors slid open and a wall of noise greeted you. You tried your best not to bug your eyes out looking at everything. It was so opulent, shiny, and new. The space was huge, obvious since Iron Man had the entire top floor to himself. But still, this place could fit five of yours and it still would be big.

Sam placed your hand in the crook of his elbow, took a deep breath with you, and joined the party. He smiled and nodded at people, seeming to open up further inward. You pinched him every few moments every time you saw an Avenger. A freakin’ Avenger!

Hawkeye stood off to the side talking to a few people. Iron Man was dressed in a dark suit as he schmoozed with people around him. There were a few veterans down by the pool table laughing it up.

“Sam! You made it!” You both turned to the right to see Steve making his way through the crowd. He wore a blue shirt and a brown jacket and you couldn’t help eyeing the similarities in their style.

No wonder they got along so well. They were both old men stuck in the body of thirty year olds. You couldn’t help but smirk as Steve and Sam greeted each other.

“Gorgeous as always,” Steve said, nodding to you.

Your cheeks heated and you giggled. Sam looked at you like you were crazy. Could he blame you? You were on a first name basis with a superhero. Your life was officially nuts.

“Thank you,” you said.

“Enjoy the party. Try to at least,” Steve said. He smiled and moved away but you got the sense that he was unsettled.

Throughout the party, Sam stuck to your side like glue. He introduced you around to the few people he did know. You saw Natasha speaking to a Black lanky man in a suit. Natasha turned her head to you and you waved.

Natasha excused herself and floated over to you. Her red hair was stark against her white dress and she looked dropped dead gorgeous. You told her as much and she waved you off. “I love to dress up when it’s on my terms,” she said.

“I’m stealing her, Sam.” Natasha looped her arm through yours and you turned to Sam. He lifted his eyebrows, asking if you were good. You found the one other person you knew here, so you weren’t completely alone. You nodded.

“Go grab a drink and catch up with Steve,” you told him. Though you were here to help celebrate their win against Hydra, you knew that Sam had to talk to Steve about Bucky. After a year of looking, you weren’t sure how much longer your man could continue. He placed so much stress on himself trying to impress Steve, it was worrying you.

“Come on, drink time,” Natasha said. She dragged you towards one of the bars. Yes, one of them. Iron Man had multiple. You grabbed your favorite drink, sipping it and letting it give you some liquid courage.

You and Natasha talked about your interview and how you took to the job. “I just hope I get it. I will strangely miss the front desk,” you said. You didn’t think that those words would ever cross your lips, but it was true.

You liked working with Ariel and you could hide at the front desk. Running meetings, you were front and center often. And you’d have to defend yourself to a group of people who had been in combat where you hadn’t.

“Hey, outside perspectives are just as important. Everyone could benefit from that,” Natasha said. An Avenger was trying to cheer you up. You really had gone to Loony town. You thanked her and asked about being an Avenger.

“It’s…something,” she said, getting a smile on her face that you couldn’t decipher. “Someone’s got to do it right?”

“Would you like to do something else?” You asked.

She shrugged her shoulders. “Never had a chance to consider it.”

You got the hint that there was more but you weren’t going to pry. You sipped your drink and scanned the room. Sam found his way to the pool table, playing with Steve and some veterans. He looked so in his element, you wished you could take a picture. You were not going to be one of those people.

A booming laugh sounded from across the room and you shrieked a bit. “Got a taste for hot Nordic gods?” Natasha asked.

If you could sink down through the floor, you would. “He’s just so…” You didn’t have the words. He was big, charming, and a literal god. Like…who wouldn’t be obsessed with him?

“Want to meet him?” Natasha asked.

“Absolutely not, I’d die,” you said with a laugh. You may regret it the rest of your coming days. You tried really hard not to let anxiety define you. You refused to end up like your mother, jumping at every single shadow. She had genuine issues but she refused to get any real help for it.

“Come on,” she said. She pulled you by the hand anyway towards that side of the room. You caught Sam’s eye as you did and he followed your path. He grinned and shook his head, noticing exactly where you were going. You mouthed for him to help you and he threw up his hands.

Asshole. You were so going to get him back for that later. Natasha brought you around some veterans by the couches. Thor sat there, telling a really wild story about something called…Frost Giants? You didn’t want to know.

Natasha introduced you as Sam’s girlfriend. Thor threw up his hands like you were long lost buddies. “Sam is a great man,” he said.

Oh god - god- that accent. You only smiled and bobbed your head. So many things you wanted to say got twisted in your mouth, forming a little ball of nerves that made your tongue stop working. Thor, a god, just smiled at you.

“She will be a counselor soon,” Natasha said.

“I don’t have it yet,” you corrected.

Thor smiled. “Ah, I’m sure you will be a fine…counselor,” he said.

“Thank you,” you said, finally able to speak like you had some sense. “And thank you for…all that you do.”

You wanted to die. You wanted to crawl into a tiny hole and never get out. You sounded so stupid. Natasha was enjoying every second of it. She leaned against a couch as you spoke and Thor clapped his hands together. If you didn’t know any better, you’d swear it sounded like thunder.

“Team effort all around. I’m only glad I could help,” he said.

A veteran came to punch Thor in the shoulder. “Let me tell you a story now, son,” the man said.

You smiled and waved to Thor as he excused himself and sat down to talk to the veterans. You were sick to your stomach, yet glad that you did get to speak to Thor. He was so gorgeous in his red jacket, long hair pulled behind him. If you weren’t with Sam…you’d be dating some loser. Because Thor already had a human girlfriend who was a friggin’ genius. And there was no way you would even attempt flirting with the man.

Besides, you didn’t want to compete for shower time when wash day came around.

You joked with Natasha and tried to keep an eye on Sam but he was too far gone in the swing of the party. You decided to relax a little. You were not a little kid with a security blanket. You were capable of relaxing and enjoying the party.

Natasha introduced you to a few more people, someone named Rhodey was the same man she had spoken to earlier. Another man named Bruce. You shook his hand. He was adorable with curls and a nice suit. He looked even more uncomfortable than you did at this party. There was also Maria who was also tall and gorgeous, with a beautiful red dress.

You managed to relax as you humanized these people. Yes, they were larger than life and taking on threats no one even knew about. But they were still people. Or human-like in the case of Thor. They were just people who had power who chose to fight for the human race. It was admirable and made you love these people even more. Not only as a fan but now as a…friend?

Were you friends with the Avengers? Was that a thing? They knew your name. Surely, that qualifies as friends right?

A snatch of movement made you look up to see Sam on the top floor, looking out over the crowd. He was in a deep conversation with Steve, sipping on his glass. Probably bourbon of some kind.

He didn’t see you so you were content to look at him, your eyes always drawn to him. He was so damn sweet and kind. This was beyond anything you had imagined for your future. But you couldn’t imagine your life without Sam now.

He was such a huge part of it, you weren’t even scared anymore at the thought. You just wanted to see where else you went and where else you found yourselves. He had been all over the world already, but he said he wanted to explore it again at his leisure with you.

The party was starting to wind down and Sam had come back to your side. You were still talking to Natasha when strong hands circled your waist. His chin came to rest on your shoulder with a deep sigh.

“I’m sorry I’ve been gone so long,” he said.

“That’s okay. I hogged Natasha all night,” you said.

She smirked and shook her head. “You’re way better company than these boys,” she said. She said good night and left you two alone.

You turned in your seat at the bar, facing him. He cupped your face and brought you closer for slow, deep kiss.

It took a moment for your eyes to blink open, but when you did, you looked up into his pretty brown eyes. “You are amazing, you know that?” He asked.

“You are,” you said.

“Home?” He asked.

“Lead the way,” you said.

Sam grabbed your hand and led you from the party. You giggled a bit as you saw an old man being escorted out. He looked like he partied a bit too hard. You ended up yawning on the way down from Avengers Tower, feeling a bit like Cinderella.

You rested your head on his shoulder as all the adrenaline left your body. You naturally felt so safe and calm with Sam, it was like he shooed all of your fears and worries away. On the way home, you barely kept your eyes open as Sam entertained you with his thoughts on the party.

Somehow, you made it to his place and in one of his T-shirts. You closed your eyes for half a second, and he was climbing in behind you, wrapping his arm around your middle and pulling you into his chest.

It was exactly where you wanted to be, forever.

One month later…

You giggled on the phone with Ariel while you got ready for dinner with Sam. Even though it was approaching a year and half with him, he still took you on proper dates. He wanted to see you dolled up.

By now, he’s seen you in your bonnet and still thought you were hot enough to snack on. He’s seen you at your absolute worst, sweating and heaving that time you got food poisoning. And he’d seen you at your absolute best, for your sibling’s graduation and how you clapped and whistled with pride.

Ariel was telling you about Ruby. They had almost been dating as long as you and Sam. “Ya’ll make me so sick,” you said, teasing.

“We make our own selves sick,” Ariel said, full of affection. “I still can’t believe I’m living somebody. Me!”

“I know. Miss Fuck These Hos,” you said.

“Right! That fuckin’ part there!” She screamed and you laughed. You held up two sets of earrings up to your ear, trying to decide which one went better with your tawny brown dress. You felt like being extra fancy, even going as far as to get a manicure and pedicure.

Tonight felt no different than any other night, but if he was going to keep asking you on elaborate dates, then you were going to continue getting pretty for no reason. The dress was a tad too short, showing off your thick legs, but Sam would love it. That’s all that mattered.

The doorbell rang and you told Ariel that you would talk to her later. “Tell Sam to have you home by eleven sharp. I don’t know why you think you grown all of a sudden,” Ariel said.

“Bye!” You cackled as you made your way downstairs with your shoes. Your dad was shuffling towards the door. It seemed like he got slower and slower every day now. He got winded walking up the stairs. Still, you begged him to go to the hospital but he was too afraid to leave your mother for anything other than work.

He opened it, greeting Sam and shaking his hand. Sam talked to your dad, his voice already doing wonders on your body. You descended the rest of the stairs and came around the landing. Sam’s face instantly lit up, taking in your outfit.

You twirled a bit for him, walking over to him and hugging him. “I don’t even know what to say. You are so gorgeous,” he said.

You smiled and patted his chest. “You charmer,” you said. “Dad, take your medicine, please? If you don’t, I’m driving you to the hospital.”

Your dad waved you off. “Son, will you remind this young lady that she is young and should be worrying about herself?” Your dad kissed your temple and shuffled back over to the living room chair.

“Yes, sir, I will.” Sam laughed and escorted you out the house.

“I’m worried about him.”

“I know,” Sam said and kissed you on your temple. “He worries about you too.”

You climbed into the car and soon you were off to some restaurant that Sam picked out. You talked about nothing and everything. You talked all day long and yet when you got in the car with him, you found more and more topics to talk to him about.

You talked about everything. Superheroes, life, the fate of the world, politics, religion. There was no subject off limits between you two. Though you tried hard to stop, there was always something in the back of your mind waiting for the other shoe to drop.

You weren’t expecting Sam to let you down. It was more that you couldn’t trust something that made you this happy. After a lifetime of cleaning up other people’s messes, it was a wonder that you got to keep something for yourself. Sam made you this happy.

After parking the car and holding your hand right up to the front door of the restaurant, you couldn’t help studying him.

“I got something on my face?” He asked.

You giggled and shook your head. “You just make me really happy, Sam,” you said.

He grinned at you, planting a soft kiss against your cheek. “You’re my happy place,” he whispered against your cheek.

Settled into your seats, the evening passed in a hazy like way. You talked and giggled and made fun of each other’s plates. It was like you were watching a montage of the greatest hits in your relationship. You paid attention to the vibe and atmosphere of the place.

Cozy, intimate. The pasta was good and delicious. You ordered your favorite one and spent the night defending it to Sam. He only chuckled and said he still liked you despite your weird choices.

You were perusing the dessert menu, wondering what you could take home. You always found a second stomach for dessert but tonight you were stuffed.

“I need to tell you something,” Sam said slowly. You looked up at him. He wasn’t really looking at you, playing with his napkin on the table.

Butterfly wings flapped painfully in your gut. Was he going to…propose? It had only been a year! You took in your surroundings. It would be a pretty nice setup for it. But, it was too soon right? Right?

“Okay,” you said. Your voice was small, breathy, fear clogging up your vocal chords. You wouldn’t be able to speak had you wanted to. You hadn’t even exchanged I love you’s yet. Did you love him? Could you marry him? Should you be panicking this much?

“It’s about the Avengers,” he said.

You loosed a sigh. Thank God! You didn’t know what you would do if he did propose. Now that he wasn’t, you weren’t that relieved. Did that mean something? Shit, you were turning into your mother.

The last you heard of the Avengers, they had been overseas involved in a huge conflict regarding some kind of sentient robot? The news coverage had been spotty and you weren’t sure you wanted to know.

Watching the news these days has started to break your heart. There was always something major going on in the world. And with these superheroes becoming more frequent, so did the bad guys. Sort of like a chicken and the egg situation. Did the villains come first or the heroes? Who spurred the other to action first?

The devastating effects of what happened in Sokovia was too much for you to comprehend. An entire country had dropped in on itself, killing thousands. The Avengers had stopped that ordeal, but barely. And with so much loss of life. You shivered.

“I do not envy them that job,” you muttered to Sam. You placed the dessert menu down and gave him your full attention. “What’s up?”

Sam took a deep breath and finally looked at you. “I have decided to join the Avengers,” he said.

You stared at him, your head cocked to the side, trying to decipher what he just said. You giggled nervously and shook your head. “Sorry, it sounded like you said you joined the Avengers.”

Sam nodded. “Steve asked me to join. With Tony retiring, Barton retiring, Bruce off world, Thor back in Asgard…he needs a new team. I said yes,” Sam said.

You licked your dry lips. A tickle in the back of your throat burned with a repressed cough. You drank some water. Tears pricked your eyes. Your chest thundered with your heartbeat. Beating wildly against your rib cage.

“Please say something,” Sam said.

You scoffed. “You took me to fucking dinner, knowing I can’t blow up like I want to,” you snapped.

“That’s not why,” Sam said.

“Are you kidding me? Like are you actually joking?”

“No, I’m not. I have a chance to do good in the world. Way more than I did as a pararescueman. I can help people on a global scale,” he said.

“Fighting aliens and robots and shit? Are you nuts?” Your voice was getting higher, drawing attention from nearby tables.

Heat burrowed through your chest. You felt explosive. As if you could simply burn from the inside out. You stared at Sam, desperately trying to figure out what was running through his mind.

“I know it’s dangerous, but it’s not anything–”

“So you just make this huge ass decision and say nothing? A year together and I supported you going off to hunt down you-know-who. I supported you working with Steve because it meant that you would come back. We talked about how you didn’t want to join the Avengers, that it wasn’t your thing. And now? What changed?”

“Steve asked me-”

“Oh, Steve asked you. That makes all the fucking difference,” you said. You couldn’t believe this. Couldn’t believe that he would just…accept it and not say anything. What did it mean for you? Did he expect you to join him? The hell were you going to do at an Avengers compound? Play mammy?

“Let me finish,” Sam snapped, a sign of his own anger. It was rare to see it. Rarer still that it was directed at you. “Yes, Steve asked me and I wrestled with this decision alone. Before you start, I’m not asking for anything to change between us. I know how you are with your family. I’m not going to ask you to move with me or give up the opportunity to become a counselor,” he said.

“How I am with my family?”

Sam sighed. “I didn’t mean it like that-”

“How did you mean it, Sam?” Your voice was deceptively calm. You were so furious, you could toss him through the wall and not give two shits about it. The tears in your eyes turned annoying. You swiped them away from your face. Sam saw the gesture and his mouth turned into a frown.

“I meant that I know you take care of your family and I’m not trying to rip you away from them. The compound is not that far from here. We can take the train to see each other. You always said you wanted to take more train trips.”

“With you! With you by my side. Not on my fucking way to see you,” you said.

“You have every right to be mad,” he said.

“Don’t shrink me, Sam. This is bullshit. You ambushed me,” you said. You couldn’t even inject any venom in your words. You were just hurt. So fucking hurt, your heart was on fire. He set it ablaze like a wildfire through your veins.

You knew this was too damn good to be true. Here was the shoe drop. Really, this was your first real fight and it was turning ugly fast. “You didn’t fucking trust me enough to make this decision with me. You just made it. Ever since you went on your little adventure with Steve, you’ve been chasing that high.”

“What?” Sam asked. “I don’t get high doing this.”

“You like feeling useful. Sticking up for this bullshit ass country that doesn’t give a shit about you!” You didn’t care if you were yelling. You didn’t care that you were making a scene. You didn’t care that you had become one of those cliched Black couples that fought in public and made it everyone else’s problem.

You were a funny story now in someone else’s life. While your world was crumbling around you, disappearing before your very eyes. Marriage, picket fence, some kids running around. All of it was snatched away with a few simple words from him.

You were about to ugly cry and you didn’t want him to see it. You stood up from the table and threw your napkin down. “I’m going home.”

You walked out of the restaurant into the bitter cold of DC. The cool air could not dampen your anger. In fact, it made you rage. Bubble over with it. Consumed by it. It swallowed you whole. You pulled your phone out of your purse with shaky hands. You could call Ariel but you didn’t want rationality right now. You wanted to throw something. Hit someone. Tears fell freely away from prying eyes.

Your temper has always scared you growing up. How your little body would fill up with so much rage. You would punch walls, break things, toss things. When your mom got on your case enough times, you internalized that rage. You listened to music too loudly to hurt your ears, you bit your lip to the point of bleeding, you picked at scabs to leave scars. You didn’t cut yourself, you didn’t want anything too obvious. You didn’t want people to worry about you. You had bombs quaking in your bones whenever you were angry and you wanted to minimize the fallout every time.

You had worked so hard not to be this person. To push your emotions away until you could trot them out in the safety of your room. Dole them out and feel them one at a time so you aren't overwhelmed.

You hated being ambushed most of all. There was no way to guard against that. No way to prepare and stick your feelings in tiny boxes to be unwrapped later. Away from others.

Fuck him. He knew that. You had no indication that he wanted to join the Avengers. How could he ask you to live with that uncertainty? In the military, he dealt with human villains. Human scum who committed acts of violence on others. That was one thing.

With the Avengers, there was no telling who or what he would go up against. And you were terrified that you’d get a call one day telling you that he didn’t make it home. You couldn’t lose him. Not like that. It hurt too much to think about.

You called for an Uber and waited away from the restaurant. Why couldn’t he be more selfish? Why couldn’t he protect himself? Hadn’t he done enough for this shitty ass country? When was it enough? When would Black men stop shedding blood for this cruel country?

“Wait!” Sam jogged out of the restaurant. You held up your hands.

“Not another step, Sam,” you said. You sniffled, the tears making a mess of your makeup.

“Baby, please,” he said. He was out of breath. Tiny clouds escaped his mouth as he stared at you. “Let’s talk about this.”

“Fuck you! Now you want to talk? When your mind is already made up?”

“I don’t want to lose you.”

Your heart cracked. You could feel the jagged crack splitting your heart in two. You wanted to run into his arms and hold on tight. But you also wanted to kick his fucking teeth in.

“I’m not safe to be around like this, Sam.”

“Let me take you home,” he said. He stepped closer and you stepped away. Your phone dinged with your approaching Uber.

The small sedan pulled over to the curb. You confirmed the driver details and license plate and climbed in. “Wait!” Sam called after you.

You told the driver to move and you didn’t look back. You let the tears cloud your vision on the way home.

Masterlist | Chapter 10 | Chapter 12

#Megaminds Secret Files #The Secret Sam Wilson Files #Sam Wilson x Black!reader #Sam Wilson x Black reader #x Black reader #Sam Wilson x Fem!reader #Sam Wilson x Fem reader #x Fem reader #Sam Wilson x reader #Sam Wilson x you #Sam Wilson fanfic #Sam Wilson fan fic #Sam Wilson fanfiction #Sam Wilson fan fiction #Sam Wilson x plus size reader #Sam Wilson #Sam Wilson Marvel #Sam Wilson MCU

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of-many-incorrect-quotes · 3 months

Text

Bucky: *shyly* are you uncomfortable?

Y/N: *also shyly* I’m not uncomfortable, are you?

Bucky: *blushing* no

Sam:

Sam: I’m uncomfortable

#avengers #avengers incorrect quotes #avengers x reader #marvel #marvel incorrect quotes #marvel x reader #mcu #mcu incorrect quotes #mcu x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barns x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #sam wilson #sam wilson x reader #sam wilson x you #sam wilson x y/n

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sunvmars · 4 months

Text

only you || s.r.

pairing: steve rogers x reader (brief platonic!nat, sam, and bucky.)

*navigation/directory | request box | taglist | masterlist

word count: 7.1k summary: only a few weeks after a breakup, you go out for the night with the team. steve doesn’t show up, and he’s been purposefully not showing up to anything non-work related after the breakup. however, tonight you drink a little too much, and insist that steve pick you up. warnings: angst (breakup, talk of bullying, body image issues), swearing, drinking, *smutty implications.

"I'm sorry, I just didn't know who else to call," Sam explains, his voice raised to speak louder than the blaring music.

"She keeps asking for you, and she won't go with anyone but you," Bucky adds as he and Sam lead Steve through the crowded dancefloor.

The blond sighs and shoves his phone into the pocket of his jeans. "It's alright, really- but how drunk is she, exactly?"

Before Sam can respond, they come to a stop right in front of the team's reserved booth. Bruce had only come for all of an hour of the night, but Clint and Tony had left about thirty minutes prior to Steve's arrival, leaving your well-being in Natasha, Bucky, and Sam's hands.

Steve looks over you and Nat; you're laid down on the long, cushioned seat with your head resting on her lap. Her jacket is slung over your lower half to cover your exposed legs from your dress rising up on your thighs. You're looking up at her adoringly, reaching up to twirl strands of her hair between your fingers as you mumble about how pretty her hair is.

"That answer your question?" Sam whispers, chuckling slightly.

Another sigh falls from Steve's lips, and although his heart aches, he has to stop himself from cracking a smile. "That it does."

He steps closer to the booth, taking in the sight of you with softened eyes. Typically, you never let yourself get this drunk, not in the public eye at least. Even though it's clear you've had more than a bit too much to drink, the sight is endearing.

Nat directs her attention from you and up at the three men approaching the table instead. Her expression is one of amusement with a slight hint of relief as she looks down at you again. "Hey, look who's here, honey," she says softly to you.

You turn your head in her lap and let your hands fall back down, finally releasing her hair from your gentle grip. Your eyes land on Steve and you blink up at him before a wide, drunken smile spreads on your face.

"Steeeeve!" you exclaim in a slur, reaching your hand out for him. "You came!"

He crouches down next to the booth, hesitantly taking your hand into his. "Hey, doll. 'Course I came, I always will. Looks like you've had fun tonight, huh?"

You nod excitedly and your smile spreads into a grin. "Nat's hair is sooo pretty, did ya know that? 'S soft too, like a pillow," you ramble, your words somehow not coming out scrambled.

"I bet," Steve says, watching Nat brush your hair out of your face. "Let's get you home, yeah?"

"Your home?" you ask in a softer voice.

Right. His home.

"I don't..." Steve starts before falling into silent contemplation.

He looks up at Nat who's already looking back at him, her expression apologetic and soft. Then his eyes shift back down to you, and his heart clenches in his chest. Your eyelashes flutter as you blink at him, your eyes light up and twinkle in a way that they only do for him, and your lips part a little as you take slower breaths.

How could he say no to that?

"Sure, yeah, we'll go back to mine," he concedes gently, rubbing your knuckles with his thumb.

You smile again and scramble to sit upright. Nat lays a hand on your back to help keep you balanced, Steve taking your other hand in his free one to pull you up gently. When you're sat up straight, he takes Nat's jacket off your legs and helps you tug your dress back down.

He slides your phone off the table and into his pocket before throwing your arms around his neck. You take the hint to hold on as he slides one of his arms under your legs and the other behind your back.

Effortlessly, he lifts you into his arms. You clasp your hands together behind his neck and a giggle slips out of your lips- a sound that was once music to his ears which had now become one he longed to hear again.

"G'night, Nat," you say sweetly, turning your head to look at her.

Steve's body follows the direction of your head, turning towards the table so you don't strain your neck. Her eyes meet yours and she smiles at you once more.

"Goodnight, babe. Text me tomorrow, alright?" she requests before looking up at Steve and saying, "Make sure to get some water in her, we had to trick her into drinking some by watering down her tequila."

"Will do-"

Your gasp cuts Steve off effectively, her words only just now sinking in. "That wasn't tequila?!" you exclaim, your voice coming out quieter than you realize.

The three at the table laugh a little- even Steve lets out a low chuckle of his own.

"I'll let you in on a secret," Nat starts, her voice dropping to a whisper before continuing, "It was definitely tequila, but you know these guys are no fun, so we can't tell them that."

"Ohhh, right, right. I can keep a secret- you're the world's bestest adult sitter," you reply softly.

"The best, huh?" she questions with a half smirk.

When you nod, she takes a sip of her drink, placing the glass down before saying, "I'll be expecting my plaque soon then."

"You wanna say bye to Sam and Bucky?" he asks, looking over slightly to meet your eyes.

You hum in response and he walks you over a few steps to Bucky and Sam who are sitting at the other end of the table. The pair smile at you, though it's more of an amused grin on Bucky's end, and you return the gesture.

"Bye, Bucky," you say, sleep and intoxication ridden in your voice.

Bucky chuckles and rises to his feet to ruffle your hair playfully. "Bye, doll. You get some good sleep, alright?"

Your nose scrunches at the feeling of his hand in your hair. "Always good sleep when with Stevie."

Bucky sits back down, and Sam starts to speak, "Punch it in," he instructs, raising his fist up to your level.

You oblige happily, curling your hand into a fist to the best of your ability and bumping it against his. "G'bye," you slur, nuzzling your face into the crook of Steve's neck.

"Call us if you need us," Bucky says to Steve.

"Yeah, thank you for watching over her," Steve responds appreciatively, "Goodnight, be safe getting home."

"'Night," the three say collectively, smiling at him in a way that's bordering apologetic.

Steve forces a smile before turning to walk away. He makes his way through the crowd, holding you tight and protectively against his chest.

"You can go to sleep if you want, I can tell you're sleepy," he murmurs low enough for just you to hear him.

A small whimper emits from you, making a warmth spread through his body. He looks down at you adoringly before looking back up, shifting his focus back to the rather slow journey to the exit. Although some people part to make way for who they know to be Captain America himself, most of them are too drunk to care. So, Steve focuses heavily on navigating through the maze of bodies.

When he steals a glance down at you again, you're sleeping peacefully and your head has fallen back away from his neck. You must've felt him move though, because you immediately nestle your face back into his neck, and the warmth of your breath against his skin makes him shiver. The scent of the alcohol you'd been drinking lingers, but it's mixed with the familiar fragrance of your vanilla perfume, and it creates a blend that only you could pull off.

When you reach the exit, the cold, autumn night air hits both of your faces. Steve adjusts his grip on you to make sure you're comfortable and then walks to the car he ordered that dropped him off. The driver steps out, and opens the passenger side door for the two of you, allowing Steve to slide you comfortably onto the seat.

He thanks the driver as you whine at the loss of contact. You melt sleepily into his touch when he reaches in to brush your hair behind your ear to let you know he's not leaving. The bright city lights reflect in his blue eyes, and a soft, but achy, smile plays on his lips at the sight of you. Careful not to wake you or pinch your fingers, he fastens your seatbelt, making sure you're secure before closing the car door.

He walks to the other side of the car and gets in, choosing to sit by the window instead of next to you in the middle seat. As the car starts up, he can't help but look at you and admire you. The admiration quickly turns into longing, though. He takes in every part of your face, his mind plaguing itself with the memory of just over two months ago.

"I don't think I'm right for you."

The words flow easily from your mouth like water between open fingers. Steve looks at you, utterly confused and hurt. His jaw tightens, his eyebrows furrowing as he opens his mouth to speak, only to close it again when he can't find the words.

He gets off the couch, rising to his feet and looking at you from across the room. "You want to leave, to forget everything from the last year and a half, just because you don't think you're right for me?"

The weight of your decision and his words sit heavily on your shoulders as you slouch over, putting your face in your hands for a moment. "I... I'm no good for you, Steve, and you deserve better than me... I can't be what, or who, you need."

"What are you talking about, y/n? You're perfect to me, I wouldn't trade you for anything," he explains, trying to keep his voice soft and reassuring despite the fear and irritation building up in him. "Please, tell me what I can do to make you feel better and I'll do it, I'll do anything-"

"You can't do anything!" you finally snap, your emotions being misdirected towards him. You let the warm tears that were welling up fall freely from your eyes as you continue, "There's nothing you can do, Steven, I'm not the person you need, and I never will be. Drop it, just leave it at that, and move on."

"'Leave it at that?'" Steve repeats back in bewilderment. "We have been together for almost two years and you expect me to drop all of it just like that?"

All you can muster up in response is a quiet, "I'm sorry."

He watches you stand up and sling your purse over your shoulder. Desperately, he scrambles for the right words to say to make you stay. "Baby, please, tell me what's really going on here- this cannot be it for us, I won't let it be."

Steve takes long strides towards you only for you to back away from him. For some strange reason, that small action hurt worse than any of the words that came, or could possibly come, out of your mouth. He stops dead in his tracks, trying to search your face for any sign of changing your mind. When he doesn't find it, he bites down on his tongue to save himself more heartache from the useless begging he wants to let out.

"I'm sorry, Steve. You deserve better, and you always have," you mumble, wiping the tears off your cheeks and walking quickly to the front door.

"I love you," he says, only to receive no response other than the front door slamming shut as you walk out of it.

“You alright back there?” the driver’s voice snaps Steve out of his thoughts. “You need heat or air? Seat warmers? Anything?”

Steve shakes his head slightly, snapping himself out of it. His hand reaches over to you, and he rests the back of his hand on your forehead. “A little heat, thanks,” he says with a smile after nothing the tinge of cold your skin has.

“Of course,” the driver says with a returned smile as he turns the heat on.

As he avigates the familiar route to Steve’s apartment, with the sleepiness Steve feels, he's thankful for the fact that there's only a minute or two remaining of the drive. And on the other hand, he’s sulking about the short time left because that’s two minutes closer to you being gone by the time he wakes up.

He turns his gaze back to you, still peacefully asleep with your head resting against the window. The soft hum of the engine provides an almost calming backdrop that yet does nothing to soothe the ache that persists. Focusing on the rhythmic rise and fall of your chest always seems to soothe him though, and it still does so now.

The car comes to a stop in front of the apartment, and Steve reaches into his wallet to pull out some cash. He pulls out his keys too, to make it easier when he gets to the door. Then he hands the cash to the driver with a grateful nod before getting out of the car and making his way to your side. Gently, he opens the door, reaching up quickly to lean your head back on the headrest.

You grumble a little, and he's quick to ease you as he unbuckles your seatbelt. "Sorry, sweetheart, but we're home now."

"Home?" you murmur, still half asleep.

He carefully lifts you into his arms once more, and you instantly cling to his jacket. "Yeah... home."

The building's lobby is quiet as he enters through the automatic doors, the night shift doorman giving him a knowing smile. Steve offers nothing but a small and short nod in return, his focus solely on your drunken state. Luckily the elevator ride is short, but every second feels like an eternity to him.

The weight of your body curled up in his arms provides a comforting familiarity. It's a familiarity he soaks up though, having not seen you outside of work during the few missions you had together. In fact, you hadn't spoken to him outside of work since you left either.

Even during missions, you were short with your comments. And when you picked up your things from his apartment, of which you were actively moving into, you did it on a day when he was gone. You'd left your key under the mat and shot him a brief text letting him know. He replied, only asking how you were doing, but he got no response back.

The elevator dings, snapping him out of his thoughts again as he steps out, taking long strides until he reaches his door. He turns to the side, bending down ever so slightly to unlock the door with his keys in the hand hooked under your legs. He twists the doorknob and pushes the door open, carrying you inside with practiced ease.

The soft glow of outside city lights filters through the open windows. Paired with the dim tv, the lights cast a cool ambiance over the living room. With a deep breath, he heads straight to his room and slowly lays you down on the bed.

The bedroom is dark except for the blue and green aurora projected on the ceiling from the starlight projector you insisted he get since his room was too 'plain.' At first, the light kept him up at night because he found it too distracting, but since you'd left, he couldn't sleep without it on. After all, it was the only piece of you that you left with him other than the few shirts and undergarments.

Steve sighs deeply, taking your heels off your feet and placing them next to the bed. He covers you with your favorite blanket from the foot of his bed, and with a heart heavier than typical, he makes his way to the kitchen to fill up a cup with water. He then carries the glass back to the bedroom and sits it on the bedside table.

He takes a moment to simply watch you as he sits on the edge of the bed next to you. The soft features of your face relaxed in sleep makes him contemplate waking you up- you were always a peaceful sleeper, and he hated disturbing those few moments of peace.

Before he can attempt to wake you, you begin to stir, your eyelashes fluttering as your eyes slowly open. You blink slowly a few times, allowing your eyes to adjust to the dim lighting, and then a sleepy smile forms on your face when you see Steve.

"Hey," he greets you softly, reaching over to offer you the glass of water from the nightstand.

"Thank you," you say.

It's obvious that you're still not sober as you take the glass and sit up too quickly, the sudden movement resulting in your head throbbing as you groan. "Ouch," you mumble, pressing the palm of your free hand against your forehead.

"You okay?"

"Think so," you reply, sitting up much slower than before.

The cool water soothes you a little as you take small sips of it. A contented sigh falls from your lips, your body appreciating the non-alcoholic beverage. You place the glass back onto its spot on the nightstand and then focus your attention back on Steve.

Your eyes reflect the projector's lights as your eyes rake over him for a few seconds. Slower than you realize, you raise your hand and brush it gently over his cheek in admiration. "You're like... like an angel, but a reaaally handsome one," you croon.

Steve chuckles, a mixture of amusement and genuine joy spreading across his features. "I'm flattered, but you're the angel here, honey," he says with a smile.

He captures your hand in his and brings it to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to your palm. You giggle in response, the alcohol still evident in your system, and then your happy expression fades away. You look down, suddenly feeling a bit self-conscious.

"I'm sorry for, uhm, causing a fuss t'night. I never meant to ruin your night..."

The look on his face becomes one closer to sympathetic as he drops your hand, now reaching over to cup your cheek. Carefully, he forces you to look at him as he speaks. "Hey, you didn't ruin anything, alright? I'll always come when you need me, and I'm just glad you're okay."

Missing the feeling of his skin on yours all too much, you lean into his touch, letting his warmth soothe you. "Thanks for...everything."

"Anytime, truly," he replies.

There's a comfortable silence that falls between you, the weight of the obvious unspoken words lingering in the air. You look up at him, trying to keep yourself awake. Steve drops his hand and tries to memorize every detail of your face. He knows that tomorrow things will go back to how they were, and he's not sure he can stomach that.

It only takes a few more beats of silence before he breaks the said silence, his voice low and gentle. "Can we talk?" he asks, his blue eyes searching yours.

You hum for a moment, taking a slow breath before saying, "Jus' for a minute, very sleepy."

"I just... I have one question, that okay?"

"Hm?"

Steve musters up the courage to speak, only breaking apart from your gaze for a second. "Could you maybe tell me why you left? Like why you really left?"

When your eyes flicker with hesitation and sadness, he starts to regret asking. The air feels heavier than it ever has, holding the weight of everything spoken and not yet said, but he breathes it all in. Right as he's about to tell you to not worry about it, you take a deep breath and smother your vulnerability with the knowledge that he deserves the truth. Slowly as to not give yourself another headache, you nod.

"S'like I told you, that was the truth, 'm not good enough. You look at me with so much love and admiration, and I know...I know I could never live up to what you think of me," you explain, drawing out each word a little more than you would if you were sober. "'M holding you back, always have been, and you deserve better."

His eyebrows furrow as he takes in your words, his gaze intense and sharp. "I look at you like that because of who you are, not because of who I think you should be," he says in an attempt to reassure you. He reaches out to take your hand in his as he continues, "You're always been more than enough, honey. I mean, hell, you're more than I deserve, and-"

"No, no, you don't get it!" you exclaim lowly, cutting him off and taking your hand out of his grip. "Y-you're perfect, you're America's golden boy, and 'm jus' me. I hate my body, my mind, an-and everything about me. Could never be good enough for you, Steve. As if I don't already hate myself enough, everyone says and sees how much more you deserve, except for you."

Steve's mind races and his heart tightens as he takes in your words. The obvious pain in your voice cuts through him like a scalding knife, the tears welling up in your eyes cutting him even deeper. He's now sure that nothing could measure up to the pain of hearing you talk about yourself in the complete opposite way of how he thinks of you.

Silence passes as he dwells on your words. Then it clicks.

"Who's been saying that?" he questions sternly.

You avoid his gaze like the plague, immediately breaking the eye contact you were holding. Physically, you can feel yourself shrink. Whether it's the guilt from your outburst, the shame from everything you've heard and thought about yourself, or the intensity of his gaze- you're not sure.

His jaw tightens in anger, but not directed at you. "Who, y/n?"

A deep and heavy sigh falls from your lips as your eyes dart around the room. "Phone," you say quietly, holding out your hand to him.

Steve looks at your outstretched hand, confusion covering the concern etched on his face briefly. He pauses for a moment before reaching into the pocket of his jeans and pulling out your phone. Placing it in your hand, he watches closely as you unlock it with shaky fingers. Your eyes scan over the screen, but it doesn't take long for you to find what you were looking for, and your expression tells it all.

You hesitate to hand the phone to him, but you do so anyway, lying down on the bed and curling up into yourself as soon as the phone touches his hands. And, not that you see it, but his eyes narrow as he reads over everything rapidly. You'd had it all saved in a little folder; every message, every media report, every post made about you.

He's not sure what's worse of the situation, to be honest. To know that you'd felt this way about yourself for God knows how long and not have said anything about it was painful, sure. However, the words written about you were downright cruel, analytical, and simply not true at all.

But the amount of things that were written and you had saved for you to read at your whim, only reaffirming whatever untrue things you thought about yourself? That was a different level of hurt that he could imagine hurt you hundreds of times worse than it does him.

Unable to stomach anymore, he places your phone face down on the nightstand. Silently, he scoots up on the bed to be closer, reaching out to place his hand on your cheek. You flinch at the contact at first, but his touch is gentle, a stark contrast to the words you've been subjected to.

"I'm so, so sorry, my sweet girl," he says softly, trying to force down tears of his own.

You take a shaky breath in and out, your voice barely above a low murmur. "Didn't want you to leave me, so I left first."

Steve's heart sinks at your admission, his thumb gently stroking your cheek to wipe away the stray tear that escaped your eye. He leans in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, a gesture that's meant to offer some kind of comfort and reassurance.

"I would've never left you, and I still won't, okay? I know you care about what they say, but I don't. Nothing could ever skew my image of you, angel, you're my definition of perfect- you don't have any image to live up to in my mind," he promises with a soft-spoken tone.

You can't find it in you to respond even though you want to, all too scared of your voice failing you. Sheer pain radiates from you to the point where it's almost suffocating. While he's more than aware that no words can take back anything you've read or heard, the simple fact that he can't undo what has already been done riddles him with guilt still.

If he could, he would take all of that ache and bear it all for you.

"When did all this start?" he inquires, waiting patiently for your answer.

"I don't know..."

"I know you do, honey, you can tell me."

"Only... Only a week after we got together, got worse after I started moving in here."

"Scoot," he instructs gently, careful to control his tone with you although he feels a deep rage.

You oblige and scoot over slowly. Almost instantly, he lays down behind you, curling up so that his body molds with yours. He brushes a few pieces of your hair back before wrapping his arm around your midsection to hold you protectively against him.

"Can I ask you one more thing?" he asks, adding on, "And you don't have to answer if you don't want to."

After thinking about it for a second, you nod. He tries to find the best way to ask what he wants to ask. Deep down he wants, but somehow already knows, the answer, yet he doesn't want to make things worse. Nor does he want it to seem like the subject is the only thing he was thinking about.

"Is…is all of this, meaning what people have said and what you think about yourself- is this why we've never, you know, done anything together?" he inquires with furrowed brows from the overwhelming amount of emotions. "I'm just asking because I never thought this would be why, I thought I was doing something wrong or you just weren't ready."

Your body tenses at his question, and you have to steady your voice before answering, "Part of it. Never felt good enough, and I didn't want you to see me like that and be disappointed."

Steve frowns, sighing lowly as he presses a gentle kiss to the back of your neck. The gesture is simple, but it effectively conveys the depth of what he feels.

"I don't care how long it takes me to convince you, but I'll spend forever trying to get you to see yourself even a fraction of the way I do if I have to," he says as his thumb traces circles on your side. "You're absolutely breathtaking, angel. Fuck anyone who says you're anything other than beautiful."

A quiet giggle slips from between your lips, unable to hold contain your momentary amusement. For the first time in a while, he smiles a real, genuine smile. "You don't know how long I've missed the sound of that pretty laugh."

"You said 'fuck,'" you tease, trying to soak in the temporary joy.

He chuckles and the sounds rumbles through his chest. "Sometimes I can be a little hypocritical, especially when it comes to protecting you."

The smile you hold fades again, and you're left with nothing but the sadness and warmth of Steve's body behind yours. "Thank you," you whisper.

Steve tightens his hold around you and presses another gentle kiss to the nape of your neck. "You don't need to thank me for telling you the truth, it's what I'm here for, and I meant every word."

The two of you lay there in silence for a while. The room stays filled only with the sounds of your delicate breathing and the occasional passing of a distant car. This time, the silence isn't agonizing though. Steve's presence makes it feel comforting, and his words make your brain go mute even if just for tonight, making the weight of the world lift just a little.

"Stevie?" you murmur, breaking the silence.

"Hmm?" he responds.

Your fingers wrap around his wrist. "Don't wanna be alone t'night," you admit.

"Then you won't be," he promises softly. "Do you want me to help you out of that dress? No pressure, of course, I was just thinking it might be more comfortable for you to sleep if you changed. I think you've still got a shirt here or you could wear one of mine, and like I said I could leave if-"

"Steve?"

"...Yes?"

"Don't think I could get out of this dress by myself right now if I wanted to, and I'd love one of your shirts."

Steve smiles at your response, relief washing over him at your comfort with him. He unwraps his arm from around you, sitting up slowly before helping you sit up. When he slides off the bed, walking over to his dresser to find a shirt, you scoot yourself slowly to the edge of the bed. Your legs dangle off the edge and your shoulders slouch as you try to keep yourself awake.

With a worn-out gray t-shirt in his hand, he walks back over to you. "Alright, sweetheart. Let me take care of you," he says.

He places the shirt on the bed and reaches behind you to unzip your dress. You allow your head to fall against his chest, trying to soak in his warmth. His movements are slow and delicate, precise too, ensuring that he doesn't cause you any discomfort.

Once the zipper is down, he leaves his hands resting on your back to help you slide off the bed. Then he slips the thin straps down your arms, allowing the dress to fall to the floor, leaving you in just your underwear.

Crystalline, icy blue eyes rake over your body for a moment as he bends down to pick up the discarded fabric. It's not a sexual ogling, and you know that; he's simply admiring you the way he has always wanted to.

Suddenly feeling bashful, you avoid his gaze. You look at anything but him or your body, opting to focus on the street lights outside the big window. He catches your slight shyness immediately and quickly tries to soothe you.

"Hey," he coos with concern written on his face, one hand resting on your waist and the other cupping your cheek, "You're perfect, angel. Are you feeling uncomfortable, do I need to step out for a minute?"

"N-no," you answer promptly and force yourself to meet his eyes. "'M jus' not used to being looked at like this."

Steve's gaze softens, clearly showing he understands the vulnerability you feel. He leans in to press a lingering kiss on your forehead. "If you let me, I'll help you get used to it- and I'll make sure you never feel unsafe or uncomfortable with me. How's that sound?"

The corners of your lips manage to quirk up into an appreciative smile. "Sounds nice, Stevie," you reply, your voice low but still audible.

Returning the same appreciative look, he picks up the t-shirt and says, "Thank you for letting me see you, and touch you, but let's get into something more comfortable for right now. You need some sleep."

You nod and raise your arms up in the air so he can slide the t-shirt onto you. It's then that you notice he'd given you the same shirt you wore the first night you ever spent the night at his place, and almost every time since then, threatening to make you cry.

The fabric is as soft against your skin as it always has been, and the scent of Steve's cologne envelops you, providing a sense of security. A warm feeling spreads through your chest at how he cares for you.

Steve takes a small step back to admire you in the shirt, and just to get another look at you. A fond smile plays on his lips as he looks you over once more. "Always has looked better on you than it does on me. Good to know it still does," he says, honesty obvious in his voice.

Again, your eyes lock with his. You search him for any sign of anything negative, coming up with nothing almost instantly. He searches you for any look or hint of discomfort, but he finds nothing other than sleepiness and adoration in your gaze.

Silence passes over the two of you like it had just mere minutes ago. The quiet environment feels even more natural and comforting than it did before, though.

He clears his throat, trying to prevent the eye contact from becoming awkward for you. "Uhm, let's get you into bed, alright?"

You step to the side so he can pull the comforter back, your hands playing with the bottom hem of the shirt. He turns to face you, and you take a wobbly step towards him, balancing yourself by placing your hands on his chest. His hand flies to your lower back to offer you more support, and you look up at him through the eyelashes of your sleepy eyes.

Slowly, tracing your way up and down his chest once, your eyes stare into him with something he'd never seen in you before. In fact, the look is so intense that it could make any man weak, he's sure of it. His eyebrows raise ever so slightly at your sudden touchiness.

"Are you feeling okay?" he asks, somehow oblivious to exactly what look it is that you're giving him.

"Mhmm," you hum, drawing out the 'hm,' with a voice laced with a soft and sleepy seduction from still being tipsy. "Y'know, 'm not thaaat tired."

"Oh? The way that you're hardly able to hold yourself up says otherwise, angel. We have all of tomorrow to talk, let me just help take care of you tonight."

A giggle slips from between your parted lips in response to his cluelessness. "S'cute when you're so sweet," you croon.

"Do you, uhm, do you need something before bed? Like an Advil maybe?"

Instead of a verbal response, you grab onto his jacket and give it a slight tug. You take a step forward, pushing him back gently to force him to sit on the bed. He looks up at you in confusion, but you don't let go of him as you slowly straddle him. With your weight being supported by your knees on the bed and his legs under you, you lean in, nuzzling your face into his neck.

"Angel, what're you-"

Your lips brush lightly under his jawline, leaving a trail of tender kisses as you gradually make your way down to under his chin.

Steve's breath hitches, and his free hand comes to rest on your waist with a delicate, but firm, grip. "O-oh," he murmurs in a sigh.

You nibble gently on his jaw. "Jus' need you," you mumble before pressing your lips to his.

He lets you kiss him, unable to resist the feeling because, well fuck, how could he?

The taste of your lips is all too familiar, and as his lips work against yours, his hands find your hips. His hold on you is secure, and it does nothing to ease the arousal building up in your stomach. You whine from the contact, and he tugs you closer, still careful to keep you steady on his lap.

His resolve weakens, and he becomes hyperaware of your vulnerable state again. So, he breaks the kiss, looking down and into your eyes.

"Y/n, I'm not sure if-" he starts, only to be interrupted by you dipping down to bite on his neck. You suck harshly on his neck as you reach down and palm him through his jeans.

A low groan emits from his chest, his voice husky when he speaks. "God, baby.”

Thoroughly enjoying the reaction he gives, you whimper against his neck. He can feel the corners of your lips turn up into a slight smile. His other hand is on the other side of your waist, gripping it firmly, as soon as you start grinding down onto his thigh. He loses himself in the moment for just a second before reminding himself of your inebriated state.

“F-Fuck,” he murmurs, his voice low and husky. “Wait, wait- stop.”

You bite down once more, whining slightly before pulling away. The sensitive spot on his neck pulses, rushing with blood from the sucking and vibration. He tenses up with a mixture of both surprise and arousal at your forwardness. Then he lets both of his hands find your hips and settle on them, his hold tightening on you.

"D-did I do somethin' wrong? Did that not feel good?" you ask with a deep frown.

"No, no. That's not it, I promise; everything you've done feels amazing," Steve reassures you, quickly shutting down your negative thoughts.

Once again, he clears his throat in an attempt to regain his composure. "Angel, you're just… not in the best state right now. I won't take advantage of you, and I don't want you doing anything you might regret," he explains as he looks down to meet your gaze.

You're staring up at him with those big puppy dog eyes that you always use as an effective method to sway him. Tonight, though, is vastly different.

"C'mon, doll. Don't look at me like that. If you still want me in a few hours, when you're sober, that is, then I am all yours," he promises, trying to bargain with you.

You stick your lower lip out a little unintentionally, giving him the cutest pout he's ever seen. "Sober..." you repeat, looking away almost in shame as you add, "Promise you'll still want me then?"

Steve tilts your chin up with his finger and forces you to lock eyes with him. "I can promise you. I've never wanted anything more in my life than I want you. And that's never going to change."

Tantalizingly, he runs his thumb across your lower lip, a small smile playing on his lips. "But, I need you to be sure that this is what you want. I want you to remember every moment, not just bits and pieces of it, and know that everything we do is your choice," he says softly.

After taking a moment to process his words, you nod in understanding- noting the sincerity in his eyes. The room fills itself with an assortment of emotions, ranging everywhere from desire, uncertainty, and just a touch of venerable fragility.

Steve brushes a strand of hair away from your face, his expression one of soft neutrality. "Alright. Let's get you tucked in," he whispers, his voice a low murmur.

You let go of his jacket after he scoots back on the bed, bringing your knee from the other side of his leg and lying down. You curl yourself into a ball, and Steve's eyes never leave you as you do so. He takes a moment to appreciate the mere sight of you back in his bed, and a wave of warmth rushes through his chest. His earlier desires are still very much present, but so is the respect for the boundaries he set for your well-being.

He gets up briefly to pull the blankets over you before sitting down in the comfy chair in the corner of the room to take his shoes off. The chair you'd begged him to get as well to fill up the empty space in the room.

After sliding the boots under the chair, he makes his way to the dresser to change into some loose-fitting sweatpants. When he's about to put a shirt on, you grumble a 'no,' that catches his attention and makes him turn to face you.

"No?" he asks, quirking an eyebrow up questioningly.

"Nuh-uh," you respond with a shake of your head.

He chuckles lightly. "Why not?"

"Warmer without it, not a bad sight either," you say softly, following it up with a yawn.

Steve smirks in appreciation of your usual playfulness. "If you insist," he concedes, deciding to forgo the shirt. He slips the shirt back into the drawer and walks back over to the bed.

He settles himself in beside you and lifts his arm up, allowing you to scoot into his side and rest your head on his chest. Happily, you hum, soaking up his warmth and focusing on his steady heartbeat. He then reaches down with his free hand to pull the blanket over himself.

"Uncomfortable?" you murmur, sleep laced in your voice.

"No, I'll be alright as long as you're comfortable."

A second passes by before you speak again. "Thank you."

"For what, angel?"

"For being so...you."

You feel Steve's chest rise and fall with a deep, contented sigh. His fingers trace slow circles on your back through your shirt. "Always," he whispers, his soft voice lulling you even closer to sleep.

The room stays wrapped in a soothing silence, the only sounds heard being the quiet breaths from both of you. As you lay there trying to sleep, you can't help but marvel at the man beside you. Everything about him is truly perfect, from his basic concern for your well-being to the way he has always taken care of you.

Your eyes begin to feel heavy, slowly shutting fully as you find yourself on the brink of slumber. Just before you succumb to sleep, you muster up the energy to mumble, "Steve?"

"Hmm?" he responds, his chest rumbling under your cheek.

"'M glad it's you."

"Wouldn't trade you for anything, sweetheart," he murmurs, placing a kiss on the top of your head. "And, for the record, I'm glad it's you too."

Steve continues to run his fingers over your back as you fall asleep. His fingers create a rhythmic pattern that mirrors the peaceful in and out of your breathing, only making your rest more soothing. He looks down at you and smiles to himself, reveling in the sheer joy of having you back, even if it's only for tonight.

Often the weight of his responsibilities feels too heavy to bear, but with you, there's a sense of solace that transcends the chaos of the outside world. Everything about you and your presence is a sanctuary. It's all a nice reminder that, after everything he does for everyone else, he's worthy of a little tranquility at the end of the day too.

Steve presses another gentle kiss into your hair before closing his eyes, savoring the sweet moment. "Goodnight, angel."

He hears your tired, softly grumbled response before he falls asleep. Though he tries not to let himself get too wrapped up in the moment, too used to your presence again, he does anyway. If there is anything he wants for the rest of his life, it's you next to him.

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