#sam wilson x female reader

[anonymityisfunwriter]

Midnight Rain

“I broke his heart because he was nice. He was Sunshine, I was Midnight Rain…”

Request from ao3- "ok but imagine a grumpy/sunshine fic with sam but the reader is the grumpy one 🤷" For one of my fave readers, @/badasswithafatass I hope you enjoy! 💛

Pairing - Sam Wilson x Reader Sam Wilson Masterlist | Inspired By Taylor Swift Masterlist Anon's 1K Celebration

“You know, for a smart guy, you’re pretty fucking dense," Bucky mutters, taking another swig of his beer.

“Aw… you think I’m smart?” Sam sarcastically awes from the bar stool beside Bucky.

Bucky rolls his eyes, shaking his head, “Do you honestly think she had any real interest in me?”

Bucky doesn't miss the tick in Sam's jaw at the mention of you. Months had passed since the last time Sam saw you, and he wasn’t too keen on remembering that dreaded last night. Just the memory of you leaning over the bar counter, hand resting on Bucky’s chest, whispering something in Bucky's ear, was enough to make Sam's stomach twist into a knot.

Even before that night, he could tell that you were pulling away from him, but there it was, that night, the final nail in the coffin. That was the last time he’d seen or heard from you. You walked out of his life without so much as a goodbye.

Sam rolls his shoulders back, his mouth twisting in distaste, “Sure seemed like it to me.”

“See? Dense,” Bucky declares, tipping his beer in Sam's direction.

“Alright, I’ll bite. How does any of that make me dense?”

“You’re an idiot.”

“Are you going to keep insulting me or are you going to actually explain?”

“Sam, she’s a spy, an assassin," Bucky explains like it should be obvious. "She knew you were standing there. She knew you were watching.”

"So maybe she wanted to make a point. It’s not like she was one for talking or communicating, maybe that was her way of letting me know how she actually felt. Trust me, I got the message loud and clear. That doesn’t make me dense."

"Sam..." Bucky takes a long breath. "We're a lot alike, me and her. And people like us, we cut and run, it's what we do. We don't wait for things to go bad, we live with the expectation that things will always go bad."

Sam tosses the rest of his whiskey back, flagging down the bartender for another one. "That's a depressing way to live."

“It keeps us alive.”

“We weren’t on a battlefield!" Sam spits through gritted teeth. "We were done with the fight, remember? We won, for Christ’s sake!”

“And where did that leave her, Sam? With a conditional pardon? People watching us 24/7?”

“With me!” Sam snaps, slamming his glass down on the bar. “It left her with me. We were good, Bucky! We were happy together. At least, I thought we were happy together. I even- I told her that after everything, that I would take her back home, meet my family, maybe settle down a little.”

"And while you're thinking about taking her home to meet your family, she's probably thinking how a family like yours is going to react to you bringing an actual assassin home."

"I... didn't think about it like that,” Sam confesses, faltering for a moment. He shakes his head. No. He refuses to accept that. It didn't excuse that he'd found you flirting with his best friend. It didn't change that you told him he meant nothing to you. “Because I don't think about her like that. And you know what? She could've talked to me, she could've told me she felt like that, Bucky, but she didn't."

"Sam, can I be honest?"

"Shoot."

"I don't think you two will ever work."

"That's a shitty thing to say to me," Sam spits.

"I don't," Bucky admits with a languid shrug. "Honest truth, I don't see it."

"You don't have to see it, I do,” Sam firmly states. “I see it working out."

Bucky claps a hand on Sam's shoulder with a tight lipped smile, "That's my point, Sam. That's the difference between you and us. You, you live for the hope of it all. She doesn't know how to do that. I don't know how to do that. We're broken, haunted people, Sam. We hurt people that get too close."

"You're wrong."

"Why else-"

"Because she was bored!" Sam angrily shouts, not caring at the stares his outburst brings. "She only wanted me because I was there."

“Do you honestly believe that?”

“Yes. I do believe that,” Sam hisses. “Unlike you guys, I believe the words that come out of people’s mouth. She was bored... She was bored and I was there.”

Bucky takes a long pull from his beer, rising from his seat with a defeated sigh. He turns to Sam to offer one last piece of insight, “All I’m saying is I wouldn’t go on the run with someone for two years because I was bored. Not unless I really gave a shit about them. Not unless I loved them, like really loved them.”

"Do you mean that?" Sam asks over his shoulder.

"Yeah, I mean that."

--

3 Years Earlier - Somewhere in Scotland

“Just let me do the talking, okay?”

Sam raises up his hands, “No arguments from me.”

The doorknob rattles for a moment, opening just enough for you to stand before them. You look at them and immediately try to snap the door shut, “No.”

Nat extends out her hand to stop the door from swinging shut. “Just hear us-“

“No.”

"You don't even know why we're here," Nat argues. “It’s important. Please.”

You relent, allowing the door to fling open. Standing tall in the doorway, your eyes rake over each of them, “Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanov or whatever name you’re going by now, and Sam Wilson, all in the flesh, all the most wanted fugitives on Earth. So I don’t care how important it is, my answer is no.”

Sam’s eyes comically widen, his voice taking a slightly bewildered, high pitched tone, “How did - Do you happen to know the names of all strangers that show up at your door?”

Your eyes dart over to Sam with a grimace, “Strangers that show up at my door end up dead. Consider yourself lucky.”

“I want you to know I’m choosing to take that as a compliment,” Sam quips, placing his hand over his heart. 

“Don’t worry, Sam," Natasha smirks over her shoulder. "She’s more bark than bite. And this is me calling in a favor.”

Your eyes narrow at Natasha, "Which favor?"

"Budapest."

Your mouth narrows into a thin line as you glare at her. You hated that favor.

You look back at the three of them. Even dressed in street clothes they all stuck out like sore thumbs. They’re all disheveled, clearly exhausted, and you did owe Natasha. You convince yourself that there is no good in this deed, it’s just a repayment. Even as your eyes linger back to Sam for a second too long. You tell yourself you don't care what happens to any of them. It's just paying a debt. “Fine. Just keep me out of it.”

Natasha nods, offering a small grateful smile, “Thank you.”

You turn on your heels without another word, striding down to your room. You slam your bedroom door shut, leaving the others on their own.

“It was nice meeting you,” Sam calls after you.

You don’t bother to reply.

After a few hours, the sun sets and your safe house returns back to its normal quiet state except for the soft snores of Steve Rogers in your spare bedroom. You’re certain that they’ve all gone off to get some rest. That is, everyone, except Sam Wilson.

“Have a good nap?” Sam greets you, sitting on the small couch in the middle of your living room.

Your eyes snap over to Sam, lightly scoffing, “Actually, I was avoiding you.”

Your brutal honestly doesn’t phase Sam. The corner of his mouth twitches up as he playfully tugs on the collar of his t-shirt, “I tend to have that effect on the ladies… That sounded better in my head.”

“For you and me both,” you quip.

“You know, you’re kind of a jackass.”

“I know. Thanks.” That's the only conversation you plan on having with Sam Wilson. You continue walking to the kitchen without saying anything else.

"So how long have you and Nat been friends?" Sam asks, trailing you as you walk to your kitchen, clearly not taking the hint that you don't want to talk to him.

You scoff over your shoulder, "Who said we were friends?"

"So you're not friends? Because the whole letting us hide out here, housing us, letting us eat your food, not turning us in, sorta gave me a different idea."

"We're not friends."

In truth, your relationship to Natasha was much more complex than that. At one point, you were like sisters. In the Red Room, she was all you had. Your only friend. Your confidante. And still, you could never quite live up to her, always second to her. You knew all her secrets, all the blood spilt, all the skeletons in her closet, and she knew all of yours.

The night before your graduation, you ran. As far away and as quickly as your legs could carry you.

You were never quite sure if it was irony or simply Dreykov’s own cruelty, but she was the one tasked to find you and collect you. You never stood much of a chance against the person that spent almost two decades besting you. She found you in Budapest. It would’ve taken a single shot. And still, it never came.

But you weren’t going to tell that to Sam.

"You're not friends?”

"No."

After that, your paths crossed only once in a blue moon. Once Natasha left Dreykov, she never sought you out. And you didn’t bother to either. You weren’t friends. You weren’t enemies. She was the sister that became little more than a stranger.

"Do you help all your not friends run from the law?"

"Natalia and I have an agreement of ... mutually assured destruction."

"Mutually assured destruction?" he dubiously repeats, quirking an eyebrow. "...So best friends."

In spite of your best efforts, your outwardly stoic expression gives way as a chuckle bubbles out of your mouth.

"Did anyone see that?” Sam proudly announces to the empty house. “I want it on the record that I made a Black Widow laugh!"

"Don't push it," you warn, though the hint of a smile that pulls at the corner of your mouth dampens the threatening undertone of your words.

"You've got a nice smile," Sam compliments.

You wipe the smile off your face, but there's nothing you can do to tame the slight blush creeping up your face, so you say the first thing that comes to mind, "Fuck off."

--

That's how it went between you and him. Push and pull.

Their time at your safe house in Scotland was short lived. No more than a few weeks. And even in those few short weeks, he saw it, saw the good that you desperately tried to keep hidden. Even then he knew, he knew you cared so much more than you would ever let on. Cooped up in your little cottage, he found that behind your barbed words and tough exterior, was a person that he really liked. You didn't let him see very much of it. Most of the time, it was in little slip ups, little cracks in your armor, but he saw it. He swore he did.

Sam ambles alone through the streets of New York, the pavement is still damp from the midnight rain, the noisy cityscape is the only thing keeping Sam from fixating on the endless loop of memories playing in his head.

He’d be lying if he said that he didn’t think about you anymore. He did. All the time.

He thinks about how good it used to be. How even on the run, constantly looking over your shoulder, it was good. He'd like to think you were as happy as he was.

In truth, he wasn't sure how or when it happened. You weren't very nice to him - to any of them really. You kept them at arm's length. He had to earn every glimpse of the person behind the armor. He had to earn every smile, every laugh, but he found each one was worth it. To him, you were worth it. You were worth all of it. 

And when that time came, when that safe house wasn't safe anymore, you stayed by his side, you became his home. 

--

You simply walked up to the breakfast table and announced that it wasn't safe to stay much longer. "You have to leave."

"What?"

"We've been here too long. People in town are beginning to talk."

Natasha didn't miss a beat. "How long?"

"Tonight."

Sam watches the interaction closely. You refuse to look at him. For a moment, Natasha's eyes look at you, imploring. She utters a quiet question in Russian.

You don't respond, only shaking your head once.

"I understand." She softly inhales, her shoulders slumping slightly, "Thank you."

You nod, turning on your heels and heading to your room. You didn't expect Sam to follow after you.

There's some part of you that's unsettled by how easily Sam fits into your life. You don't like how he speaks to you like you're friends. You don't like that there's a part of you that would love to know what being in Sam's life would feel like. And you most certainly don't like that Sam has no problem questioning you. Prying into your life. He won't like what he finds. He'll run the moment he sees the number of skeletons in your closet. No, you don't like that at all. 

And you definitely don't like that he feels comfortable enough to follow you back to your bedroom. He wedges himself into your doorway, leaning against the wall, "So what about you?"

You don't turn to look at him as you pack your duffle bag, "What about me?"

"Where you gonna go?"

"I have other places."

"By yourself?"

"Typically."

"Why don't you stay with us?"

You pretend like you're surprised by the offer. As though Natasha didn't offer the same thing two minutes ago. You just didn't expect Sam's kindness to extend past his need for your safe house. "What?"

He takes a step off the wall. Even turned away from him, you can practically hear the grin he wears in his words. "We could always use the help. You seem like kind of a pro at being a fugitive."

"I don't think your team would appreciate my presence."

"I would. I want you to come." Sam turns back at the doorframe. He pauses for a moment, looking back at you. "You should come with us."

--

You never told him why you ended up joining them. It was the one question he couldn't ever get a straight answer for.

He couldn't really remember how or when you ended up in his bed - or more accurately, when he ended up in your bed.

All he knew was that for two years, you were his sanctuary. Each and every night. He held you. Kissed away your fears. You allowed him to see parts of you that you buried long ago. 

It made the moment you walked away hurt even more. 

He doesn't know what the hell he's doing here. He's pacing through the streets of New York in the middle of the night. It won't bring you back. It won't change what happened. You still left him.

It was easier believing that you left him because you didn't love him. 

The other option hurts. It hurts too much. His heart almost shatters at the though of you leaving him because you didn't see it working out, because you thought you would hurt him. 

That's the worst part - he believes Bucky. He believes that no one, not even someone as prone to finding trouble as you are, would ever go on the run with someone for the hell of it. Not unless you cared. Not unless you loved him. 

He should've seen it. The panic in your eyes when he suggested going back to Louisiana. The pain when you lost Natasha, the last person you considered family. 

It eats at him. He didn't even try. Not really. Yeah, you walked away, but he could've gone after you. He could've believed in the love he knew you shared. 

He reaches for his phone, tucking into the crook of his neck as he hails a cab, and calls the one person that could possibly help him, "I need your help. Can you find someone for me?"

--

1 Year Earlier - Somewhere in Eastern Europe

“Stop watching me sleep.”

Sam kisses your bare shoulder, resting his chin on your arm, “It’s the only time you’re not frowning. Except when you’re with me, of course.”

You sleepily sigh, trying to suppress the smile that Sam so effortlessly puts on your face. You halfheartedly push him away, rolling further away from him, “I’m going back to sleep.”

Sam’s arms wrap around you, pulling you closer to him, “No, come back.”

“We’ve got a lot to do tomorrow, we should get the rest while we can.”

“I miss you,” Sam whines.

“I’m right here.”

“But we’re always talking about work, about the world ending, I just - I just want a minute, just me and you.”

You finally turn around to face him with a cheeky grin, “You had me to yourself all night, remember?”

“How could I forget?”

You settle against him, resting your head on his chest, “So why couldn’t you sleep?”

He smiles down at you, absentmindedly playing with your fingers, “I was thinking.”

“About?” you urge.

“What comes next. After the fight, after everything, about going home, finally seeing my family again. My sister would love you. I can't wait to introduce you."

Your smile slips from your face. "What?"

"I mean, I know we're on the run and everything, but I'm still holding onto hope," Sam confesses. "You'd love Louisiana."

A sinking feeling overtakes you. Those survival instincts you've spent your entire life cultivating bubble up. You could see Sam's family picture where he left it on the dresser. His picture perfect, shiny family.

That wasn't you. Not even in your wildest dreams could that be you. The closest thing you had to a family was the Black Widow sitting in the other room cleaning her knives. You weren't meant for domesticity. You weren't built for the happy ending that Sam deserved. The happy ending he wanted. 

Sure, he loved you now, but would he love you when his family looks at you with disdain? Would he love you when Sarah refuses to let you anywhere near his nephews? 

Or even worse, what if he did? What if he loved you through it all and you broke him in return? What if he loved you and he lost everything else because of it?

You could tell Sam. Right here and now. Tell him that you weren't built for that life. He would listen. He would hear you. Like all of your other scars and imperfections, Sam would take it in stride. You knew he would. 

But could you really do that to him? Doom him to a life tethered to someone so tainted.

He was perfect. In every conceivable way. He was Sunshine. And though you'd done unspeakable things, there would be nothing quite as vile as dragging him down to the dim, murky depths of the wasteland you called home.

He deserved more. More than you would ever be. 

--

6 Months Ago - A Bar in New York City

"You don't have to do this."

You bitterly chuckle. It was too late. You'd made up your mind. You gave yourself until the war against Thanos was won. You gave yourself that time to say your silent goodbyes, to memorize the one and only love you would ever allow yourself to have. You were selfish in that way.

Now was the time to save Sam while you still could, to finally set him free. Even if you had to break his heart to do it. You rest your hand on Bucky's chest, the furthest you could allow yourself to go without making your stomach turn. "Do what?"

Bucky's jaw ticks, "He's a good man."

"I know." It's the only time your voice reveals even an ounce of your pain. Your eyes flicker to over Bucky's shoulder. It's too late. Sam stands a few feet from you, watching you with anguish in his eyes. For good measure, you lean in closer, whispering in Bucky's ear, "But I never did well with sunshine."

"Can I talk to you outside?" Sam demands. 

You roll your eyes and snort, "If we have to."

"We do."

Sam doesn't waste a single moment. The second you step outside, he points back to the bar, "What the hell was that?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Are you kidding me? I saw you. You were all over him. He's my friend!"

"I was just having a little fun, Sam."

"A little fun?" Sam scoffs. "Are you kidding me?"

You don't allow a single ounce of remorse to show. You don't allow him to see the regret. Your face is purposely blank, cold and uncaring. You were good at this part. You were good at hurting people. It's exactly why you have to let him go. "I don't see what the big deal is, Sam."

"You don't see what the big deal is?" Sam's voice wavers. "You were just coming onto my friend! What about us?"

"What about us?" you scoff. "I was bored, Sam, we had our fun but it's done now. We're not on the run anymore. It's not a big deal."

"Just like that, we're just done?"

"You were there, Sam," you lie through your teeth. Acid churns in your stomach, rising up through your esophagus and coating your every word. "There's nothing more to it, nothing more to us."

You'd done a lot of bad things in your life, but nothing made you feel quite as wretched as watching Sam's heart shatter before you. It was better this way. He didn't know it, but it was for the best. You couldn't ruin his life anymore. You couldn't hurt him if you walked away right now. Those were the last words you ever said to him. 

--

He did it. He couldn't believe it. He'd found you. There you were, standing out on a rooftop, out in the pouring midnight rain. He almost laughs because of course you wouldn't even realize how theatrical this whole scene was. "Do you realize how dramatic it is to be standing out in the pouring rain all by yourself? And without an umbrella?"

"I'm working, Sam."

"Shooting your next romantic comedy? Is this the breakup scene?"

You don't even turn to look at him. “You shouldn’t be here, Sam.”

Sam scoffs, “That’s all you have to say? That I shouldn’t be here?”

“Go home, Sam," you demand. "I don’t want you here.”

“You’re such a jackass, you know that?”

It pisses him off that you still refuse to even look at him. If you were going to break his heart all over again, the least you could do was look him in the eye. You speak through clenched teeth, "I know."

He storms around, planting himself in front of you, forcing you to look at him. "No, I mean that, I really, truly, from the bottom of my heart, I mean that. You're such an asshole. You're one of the most difficult, abrasive, cold, and selfish people I've ever met."

You can't bring yourself to meet his gaze. You look just past him, mustering every ounce of your training to stay stone faced, "I know."

"Do you know how hard it was to find you?"

"I didn't ask you to come here," you spit at him. "I didn't want you to come looking for me. You knew that."

"And you're a liar!" Sam exclaims, a bitter laugh bubbling up from his chest. "A damned good one, too."

"I never lied to you about who or what I was."

"But you did lie, didn't you? You've lied to me before."

“Yes, I have," you softly admit. You catch yourself, reminding yourself of why you're being so harsh with Sam. You force yourself to speak with that venomous tone you know all too well, "Many times, so if you’re done insulting me, I have to go.”

"God, you're so selfish, and- and you're mean! You brood way too much. You're so fucking angsty all the time. You act like the tortured character in every shitty teen movie every made. You're inconsiderate. You don't listen. I swear, talking to you is like talking to a brick wall. And sometimes - sometimes, I want to hate you so much."

It takes everything in you to sound as unaffected as you do. You quirk an eyebrow at him, crossing your arms over your chest, "Is that why you came here? Because you're upset?"

"Upset?" Sam incredulously repeats, taking a step toward you. He's still several feet away from you, still far out of your reach, "No, I'm not upset. I was upset six months ago. Now, I'm angry. I'm pissed off - with you. I have never been so mad at another human being in my entire life."

"I didn't do anything to you. You knew who I was - who I am."

"You think that's why I'm pissed? I'm pissed because you made me like you. I'm pissed that you made me fall so hopelessly in love with you."

For the first time in six months, your eyes find his. His warm eyes, the ones that grounded you through storms of midnight rain. He'd never said he loved you before - there's no taking that back. You suck in a breath, "Sam."

"I'm pissed because I believed you when you said you were bored. But mostly, I'm pissed that I let you go, that I let you walk away without fighting for you."

You try to warn him, beg him to stop before he says something that'll make it too hard to walk away from him. "Sam."

"Because I'm in love with you."

Your voice wavers as you beg him, "Don't do this, Sam."

"I'm in love with you," Sam announces again to his audience of one. "And I know you don't think you're good for me. And I know that it won't be easy, but I am. I am in love with you. Every part of you. Especially the parts you don't like. I like that you're mean, I like that you're tougher than any other person I've ever met, I like that you're grumpy. I like that you don't see how dramatic it is to stand in the pouring rain all by yourself! I love you. I love all of you."

"Sam..." His name leaves your mouth in a whisper. It's too late. You're not strong enough to survive walking away from him. He's doomed himself.

He takes a step closer to you. "And maybe it wasn't real... but I think it was. I think you feel the same." And then another step. And yet another. Until you're face to face, close enough that you could reach out and touch him for the first time in months. The rain beats down on the two of you. The dampness on your cheeks has nothing to do with the rain. "Tell me that you don't love me and I'll leave. Tell me and I won't bother you again, I promise."

You can't. You can't bring yourself to say any of it. "Sam, it'll never work for us. You have to know that."

"We're not at war anymore." His hand skates across your cheek. "We don't have to hide. We don't have to run."

"I'm not - I'm not good, Sam." And you are, you want to say.

“No, no, you’re not good. You’re great. You’re amazing. And it’s a damn shame you haven’t stepped into the daylight long enough to see how incredible you are.”

You jerk your face away from his hand, “And what if I can’t give you what you want? What if I can’t be what you want?”

“What do you know about what I want?”

“You want a bride. You want someone to bring home to your family - that’s not me, Sam. I don’t think that’ll ever be me.”

“I want you." Sam takes your face in between both hands, begging you to see the sincerity in his eyes. "I want you in whatever way you’ll have me.”

“I’m not worth it," you softly exhale. "You have to know that I’m not worth the trouble and the heartache I’ll put you through.”

“Break my heart," Sam offers without hesitation. "Do it over and over again. Do it for the rest of our lives. It’s all yours. You’re worth it.”

“Sam…” You didn’t have any other defense. He’d broken down each and every argument you spent years cultivating. You didn’t know where to go from here.

“Do you love me?” Your lips press into a thin line, eyes squeezing shut to keep the tears welling in your eyes from falling. The rain slows to a halt. His thumb and pointer finger grip your chin, forcing you to meet his warm brown eyes. “Do you love me?”

“I love you.” You don't think you've ever said those words before. You don't think you've ever seen the daylight until you saw him. It'll take time for your eyes to adjust, but he's worth it. "I love you so much it hurts, so much that I let you go."

“You don't have to let me go anymore. We'll figure the rest out together."

Sam Wilson Masterlist AnonymityIsFun Masterlist Inspired By Taylor Swift Masterlist

As always, let me know what you think! Reblogs and comments are always appreciated! 💛

Taglist: @marianita195 @meli18gonzalez@ludicbouquetfromearth@matchat3a@famousbreadcherryblossomsstuff@valoraxx@blue786sworld@buckyandgeraltsupremacy@geminigengar@ansaturn@ecolle@lexhalstead3@ybflkmj@mediocre-daydreams@shanye1112@thegirlnextdoorssister@toomanyfanficsbruh@moonlightreader649@breathtaking-cynthia@mirikusashes@beans-and-toast@niyahcoca@katiechikin@elxvrr@antiheroxsblog@infamouslyclumsy@krissydclayton93@buckysbarne@deadheadwbedhead @qualitygiantshoepsychic@whitexwolfxx310 @getosprettyboy

[navybrat817]

November Reading List - Part 1 - Marvel

Hey, lovelies! For some reason my original post won't let me save everything , so I have split this into two parts. Here are the Marvel character fics I've had the pleasure of reading and reblogging throughout the month of November. Please show these writers some love and heed the warnings for each fic. Remember, you are responsible for your own media consumption. Banner by yours truly and divider by the talented @saradika .

Love, thanks, and happy reading! ❤️

Bucky Barnes

Bucky vs. Book by @lostgirlmuseum

For A While by @mochie85

Birthday Cake by @writingliv

Ace of Wands by @flordeamatista

The Beat of a Heart by @rookthorne

Burn the Witch by @sgt-seabass

Every Breath You Take by @vellicore

Babysitting Duty by @nicoline1998enilocin

Superheroes with Style by @angelltheninth

After the Mission by @ghostofskywalker

Pulse by /@lostgirlmuseum

Trust by @samwilsonsbabymama

Nirvana by @tumblin-theworldaway

Store by @noctumbra

Safe by @flightlessangelwings

Love Changed the Minds of Pretenders by @tom-whore-dleston

Massage by @writing-for-marvel

Little Games by @mrsbarnesblog

Bartender by @sweetdreamsbuck

Steve Rogers

Our Last Summer by @lostalioth

Neighbor Steve by @buckets-and-trees

Mouth to Mouth by @thornsnvultures

I Just Love You by @ofstarsandvibranium

Anew by @ttyls

The Learning Curve by @bluemusickid

Doubting by @nekoannie-chan

No Place Like Home by @mellowsaturns

Habits and Kinks by @tuiccim

Advent Calendar Day 2 by @haravath0t

Hurts by @slothspaghettiwrites

Brave (Ch. 2) by @boxofbonesfic

Mastery by @ronearoundblindly

But We Lost It by @princessmisery666

D*ck Pic Steve Rogers by @xsapphirescrollsx

Sit Still (Look Pretty) (Pt. 1) by @megamindsecretlair

Too Big (Pt. 1) by @evansbby

Green Room Mirror by @luxeavenger

Stucky

In Want of a Treat by @awesomerextyphoon

Sam Wilson

Sugar Daddy by @fluffyprettykitty

[gemstone-roses]

A song so sinful

Sam Wilson x Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

summary: Sambucky tells you how good you are for them. Can be read as part of the 'good girl' fic world but also on its own. Kinda threesome? But There's no DP here sorry!

You can read my other two fics which exist in the same universe as this but there is no need to read them before this, here.

Warnings: smut, Lots of praise, like sooo much 🙌. This is so incredibly filthy I don't know what to say to be honest. Overstimulation, spit kink,? Breast/nipple play. Praise, unprotected sex! Pet names, Mentions of squirting at the end. NSFW minors be fucking gone from here I swear!

There shall be another, where Sam makes the reader squirt.

Note: it has been a while, sorry! be kind! Likes reblogs and comments are much appreciated thankyou 🥺🥺 remember I am not responsible for your media consumption if this is not your jam then do not click the read more!

"God your taking me so well, isn't our girl taking me so well Sam?" Bucky croons, thrusting his cock into your soaked pussy.

You choke out a moan, the two men going back and forth while one of them has their cock stuffed in you and the other is stroking your face so gently has you almost seeing stars instantly.

Your lay on your back in between Sam's legs, his long fingers cup your face as he praises you

"You are, taking him so well baby, so good for us" Sam agrees, swiping his finger across your lip before pushing it between your lips.

You swirl your tongue around his finger, drool dripping down your chin onto your bare chest, coupled with the sounds from bucky pushing into you makes Sam throw his head back, moaning.

"Your so fucking beautiful" Sam says, removing his fingers to trail down to your breasts, a line of saliva followed his finger from your mouth, Sam swipes his finger over your nipple, causing you to push off the bed slightly.

Bucky has slowed down slightly, thrusting in and out of you lazily as he watches Sam toy with your nipples.

Sam rolls it between his fingers, pinching at the same time, your walls clench around buckys cock as he does.

"Mm, your so responsive baby" Sam whispers, leaning forward to spit on your erect nipple.

"m fuck" you choke out, gripping the sheets.

"So good for us honey", Sam's deep voice soothes you as your mind begins to cloud with the amount of pleasure

"I think she's close, buck"

"Are you doll? Are you gonna cum for us?" Bucky asks, he angles his hips differently and brings his metal hand to toy with your swollen clit

"Fuck doll, your just divine" Bucky mumbles

You arch even further off the bed, whining, the coil inside you almost ready to snap

"sh baby it's okay, we got you" Sam says as he softly pulls at both your nipples

"Please" you moan, Buckys finger moves so slowly around your puffy clit, his other hand comes to press on your lower stomach, and bucky feels your walls clench his cock tighter

"Doll your pussys gripping me so good, you feel amazing wrapped around my cock"

"Ohmygod" you breathe, his actions and his words push you over the edge, waves and waves of pleasure roll over you, stars dot your vision as your eyes fall shut

"Eyes on me honey, your face is so pretty when you come, that's it, good girl, come for us baby, " Sam encourages, his hands gently caressing your face as bucky continues to fuck you through your orgasm.

"Good girl, good fucking girl" Bucky growls, spilling inside you.

Sam continues to stroke your face while you come round. Bucky is in the bathroom getting a warm cloth and a cold drink for you.

"You did so good for us baby, so fucking good" he presses a kiss to your forehead before wrapping you in his arms.

You feel the bed dip as bucky begins cleaning you up. His free hand gently rubs your leg, they both know how comforting you find little touches like that.

You smile as Sam holds you tighter, he leans in and nips at the skin between your shoulder and neck.

"You know how you mentioned you wanted to experience squirting?" Sam whispers, his warm breath making goosebumps rise over your skin

"Mm" you say

"why don't we give it a try, after some food and a movie?" He nips at your neck once more, waiting.

You remember how you shyly brought up you'd never done it, and the two men in front of you shared a look, something brewing behind their eyes.

You'd wrapped your arms around your knees, embarrassed and Sam had to coax you out with assurances it was nothing to be embarrassed about and how they would be honored to be the ones who made it happen for you.

"yes" you breathe out, your pussy beginning to throb again at the thought.

"Mm" he moans into your ear,

"I can't wait to have you drench my fingers and cock" he adds.

[lunarbuck]

Kinktober Week 1: Phone Sex

header: @jen-with-a-pen

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

Word Count: 692

Prompt: Phone Sex

Warnings: phone sex, swearing, masturbation, pet names [baby, sweetheart]

my masterlist | kinktober masterlist | @lunarbucklibrary

Your phone rings, and you look around on the bed for the offending device. You try to have at least two hours of screen-free time a day, and today, you’ve spent that time reading. Your book rests against your chest as you see Sam’s photo flash on your screen. 

“Hello,” you grin. When Sam is off on a mission, he rarely has time to call, so you relish each opportunity to hear his voice.

“Hey, cutie, what’re you up to?” You can hear the roar of an engine in the background. He probably just got off the jet. Heat blooms in your chest, knowing that his first thought was to call you.

“Trying and failing to curb my screen addiction, what about you?” Sam laughs, the sound warm despite some distortion from the speaker. 

“Just thinkin’ about my girl.” You don’t miss the slight rasp in his voice, the way he practically growls the words. That heat in your chest migrates, warming you all the way to your belly. You press your thighs together, giving your clit the slightest bit of friction.

“Yeah? What about me?” Through the phone, you can hear Sam’s footsteps pick up speed before a door slams shut. His breaths come out ragged and rushed. He’s just as worked up as you are. Your book slides off your chest, falling shut, but you barely even notice.

“Shit, you’re gonna be the death of me, sweetheart.” A smile tugs at your lips while you trail your fingers down your body underneath the blanket. “I’m thinking about your perfect body, your soft skin. The way you fit so perfectly against me.” You trace the band of your sleep shorts, gently teasing yourself the way Sam always does. It’s not quite the same, but with the rasp of his voice in your ear, you can almost imagine that he’s here.

“I wish you were here,” you whisper, dipping your fingers into your shorts to slide over the fabric of your panties. 

“Me too, baby. I’m so fucking hard right now. I love the way you suck my cock. Love how you look with my dick in your mouth, so fucking beautiful.” You hear the snick of a zipper on the other end and shuffle your shorts down your legs. “Are you gonna touch yourself, baby? You gonna make yourself feel good until I get home?”

You whimper in response, circling your clit with your finger.

“Such a good girl for me, sweetie. If I were there, you know I’d be in between your legs, eating that perfect pussy of yours. I’d slide my fingers inside and warm you up for my cock just the way you like.” Your fingers follow your imagination, pressing inside your warm entrance. They’re not as big as Sam’s, but you still moan when you hit those spots.

“You sound so beautiful, baby. Keep fucking yourself on your fingers, just like that. I’m aching for you, sweetheart.” Your fingers are slick as they slide in and out of your pussy, but you want more. You manage to hit the speaker button and position your phone on your pillow to free up your other hand. You circle your clit while you fuck yourself, the sensations slowly working you toward your orgasm.

“Sam, I need you,” you moan, wishing it was his cock filling you, stretching you. You wish he was here, pressing you down into the mattress with his big, calloused hands. You wish you were grabbing onto his muscular shoulders, hanging onto him for dear life.

“I need you too, baby. I need you to come for me, please, baby. Need to hear you come.” You apply more pressure to your clit, imagining it’s Sam, and you screw your eyes shut. His cologne lingers on the pillow, and you inhale deeply as your orgasm barrels toward you.

You come moaning his name, electricity shooting through your body. Sam follows close behind, rasping your name as he comes. You suck in deep breaths and go limp against the mattress. 

“Shit,” you giggle, smiling to yourself. “Somehow, I miss you even more now.”

“I’ll be home soon, baby. Promise.”

i am discontinuing my taglist. please follow @lunarbucklibrary and turn on notifications to be notified when i post new writing. must be 18+

[awesomerextyphoon]

An Unintended Valentine's

Summary: You wanted Sam to have the best Valentine's Day, but the day had other plans.

Pairing: Sam Wilson x Black Female Reader

Word Count: 280

Rating: 16 / Teen

A/N: I wanted to write short (<400 words) something for Valentine’s Day and I haven’t written for Sam in some time. This popped into my head over the weekend and I knew I had to share. Thanks to @mrsmischief209 for the beta.

Back to Masterlist

“Could you tell Sam that I’m sick? Thanks.” you sigh-coughed as you sent Sarah the weary text.

It was Valentine’s Day and you planned on making Sam’s favorite dinner and dessert—your award-winning Toffee Crunch Chocolate Chunk Skillet Cookies—then you woke up with the flu.

Why did this shit always happen at the worst times?!

You were ecstatic at being Sam Wilson’s girlfriend. You finally confessed to your feelings and told him despite the nagging voice in your head calling you a loser.

Sam was understanding and always managed to find time for you. It made you feel special, but it sometimes had your anxieties and insecurities claw their way into your heart.

The disparaging whispers and biting gossip about Captain America ‘debasing himself’ by dating you certainly didn’t help.

A small part of you wondered why Sam even bothered with you.

You barely made it to your bed’s blanket fortress, nose running while your body was freezing hoping Sam wouldn’t see you in such a sorry state.

A stream of tears flowed down your face as you waited for the cold’s icy embrace. You failed Sam once again.

“Hey,” you gasped as Sam’s handsome face peered through your blanket cocoon and his body cradled you in his warmth.

“Wha-”

“Sarah texted me. Said you were sick,” Sam answered as he set you on his lap.

“What’s wrong?”

“No! No! I don’t want you to see me like this!”

Sam resisted the urge to caress your cheek, “Why not?”

“You’ve been working so hard and I wanted today to be special, but I blew it!”

Sam chuckled hugging you even harder, “That’s impossible. Every moment with you is special.”

[onceuponastory]

this lovely night - sam wilson x reader

“Is it out of line If I was to be bold and say, "Would you be mine?” - whistle for the choir by the fratellis 

Plot: After having no luck finding love the usual ways, Y/N decides to try her luck speed dating. At first, it seems her bad luck is continuing... until she meets Captain America himself, Sam Wilson. Pairing: Cap!Sam Wilson x Female!Reader (also the TINIEST hint of Sarah Wilson x Bucky) Warnings: Mentions of sexism/sexist comments, Sam being a little nervous about dating and a few alcohol mentions. No sexism from Sam though! He could never! Other than that, just sickly sweet fluff. Just how I like it! But as usual, if I miss any triggers please let me know! Notes: This was written for @late-to-the-party-81‘s Challenge Yourself Challenge, where you have to write for a character/trope etc that you haven’t written for before. This is my first time writing for Sam! Thank you again to @staticscreenwriting / @astartothemoon​ for my dividers! Not beta’d, so any mistakes are my own.

“You know.” The man in front of Y/N begins, stopping only to take another big gulp of his beer. Y/N’s stomach twists. God knows what he’s about to say now. “I really think you’d make an excellent housewife.” He leans back, grinning at her. Y/N’s stomach churns, and she wraps her jacket closer around herself, hoping it shields her body from his gaze. “And a great mother to our kids. You’d stay home, of course, and I’ll provide for us all.”

And there it is. 

“I have a job. I’m keeping that.” she snaps back. Fucking sexist loser. Thankfully, before the man can say anything else… or before Y/N can throw her drink all over him, the announcer calls out that it’s time to change over, and Y/N gets out of there as quickly as humanly possible. As she collapses into another seat, she can’t ignore the disappointment settling in the pit of her stomach. Sure, he’s a sexist pig, but that marks yet another failure tonight.

After so long of scouring dating apps for someone, yet having no success, Y/N turned to speed dating. After all, even if it all crashes and burns, at least she tried it once, right? And so far, like every of her other attempts to find love, tonight has been just as unsuccessful as the others. That’s not to say most of the men she’s encountered tonight have been awful human beings like the man she just had the displeasure of meeting. But almost every girl, Y/N included, wants to find her Mr Right, and none of the men she’s met have gave her that spark, that feeling in your stomach that tells you this is the one for you. Honestly, she’s already resigned herself to the fact that she isn’t going to meet the love of her life. Or at least, they definitely aren’t here. 

Although, if this night is a complete failure, at least she can just get drunk and forget it all.

As the night goes on, Y/N’s prediction seems to becoming true. Well, back to the dating apps it is. Maybe the third time will be lucky?

“Hey, Y/N right? Nice to meet you.” Another male voice speaks. When Y/N looks back up and recognises who’s sitting opposite her, she gasps.

Captain America himself, Sam Wilson, is sitting opposite her. And somehow, he looks even hotter than he does on TV. In that moment, she loses all ability to speak, think… or even breathe. This is not where she expected this night to go, to have a literal Avenger sitting in front of her. She didn’t even notice him come in or move around the room. It’s like he just materialised out of nowhere, right when she needed it. He holds out his hand, and she shakes it. As her fingers brush against his, something twinges in her stomach.

“Are you alright?” He frowns, clearly confused and concerned by her silence. Heat settles on her cheeks then, and she chuckles awkwardly.

“No, I’m okay. I’m just more shocked that Captain America is here more than anything. Forgive me for being so forward, but I thought someone like you would have no issue finding love. I mean… look at you.” Her sudden honesty takes her off guard slightly, and for a moment she’s worried that she’s embarrassed herself even more. Yet, to her relief, he chuckles, smirking slightly. Or maybe the reason she’s so forward around Sam is because of how safe and comfortable she feels around him already. It’s like they’ve known each other for years, rather than only just meeting now. But Sam’s kindness and ability to make anyone feel at ease isn’t surprising. After all, there’s a reason why Steve Rogers' chose him to be his successor.

“Well, dating is tough for everyone. And to be honest, most people I date aren’t as cool with me being gone for such long periods of time, or the whole dating a public figure side of things. Seems like they just want a ‘normal’ life.” He admits. Although he still seems upbeat, Y/N registers the disappointment lacing his tone. And it breaks her heart. The Captain America identity is such a huge part of Sam and his life, and he deserves someone who respects that, and is proud to have him representing it, and to be dating him. She wouldn’t mind that life at all. She’d be proud to be at his side, to know that her boyfriend is a symbol of hope and heroism for so many, and someone who saves the world day in and day out.

He glances over at her again, grinning once more. “But I am glad that I came tonight.” And something deep in Y/N’s stomach flutters, like it never has before. Is this it? Is this the feeling that I’ve met the one? Looking over at Sam, Y/N smiles. If it is, she’s glad it’s come now. “And besides, you don’t need to worry about the formal stuff now. Please call me Sam.”

“When I’m back in Delacroix, I love to go fishing with Bucky, my sister, and my nephews. Spending all that time out on the open water, having an ice cold beer as the sun beats down on you….” 

“Stop!” she gasps, moaning happily. “That sounds incredible. I’d love that. Just a shame I’ve never been on a boat before.”

“Oh, you don’t need to worry about that. I’ll take you. It could be one of our next dates.” He winks, and Y/N giggles. 

“Oh, next time huh? I’d love that.” She sighs dreamily. God, this is incredible. Sam really is the full package. He’s caring, charming, hilarious… and, of course, drop dead gorgeous. After all, she noticed the outline of his muscles through his shirt pretty soon into their date. Although, given that he’s a literal superhero, that’s unsurprising. Despite that, though, she and Sam are still having a good time, regardless of his celebrity status.

Thankfully, tonight wasn’t such a failure after all.

Yet, a voice soon interrupts, bursting her perfect bubble of happy thoughts. “Excuse me? We were supposed to change over almost five minutes ago, and you two are still talking.” And that brings her back down to earth. Honestly, she’s been having such a good time with Sam that she forgot all about the speed dating element of this. Everyone else just faded away.

“Oh, sorry, man. I’ll go.” As Sam stands up to leave, Y/N reaches out, placing her hand on his and stopping him without even thinking about it. 

“Wait!” she gasps. “I don’t want you to go.”

“You… don’t?” Sam frowns. Almost as if he’s so used to heartbreak and failure that he can’t believe she actually does want him to stay. But Y/N doesn’t even need to think about it. It’s never been as clear to her as it is now.

“No. I don’t. Or at least, if you go, I’m coming with you. Besides… you owe me a fishing date, right?” She just hopes Sam feels the same way about her, and isn't ready to say goodbye just yet. So when he smiles, Y/N breathes a sigh of relief. 

“Okay. Let’s get out of here.” He interlocks his fingers with hers then, running his thumb over her knuckles. 

“I’m paying.”

“No, you’re not.”

“I’m an Avenger, remember? I got this.” Before Y/N can argue or even say another word, Sam has shoved his cash into the hand of the teenage burger joint employee. “Keep the change man, alright?”

“Okay, next time I’m paying. Besides, I’m the one who recommended this place.” She orders when they’ve sat down with their food. Sam raises a brow, grinning.

“Next time, huh?”

“Hey, what did I say? You owe me a fishing trip, remember?” Yet she can’t ignore how heat settles on her cheeks once more, and how something in her stomach flutters with the way he gazes over at her. He looks at her like she’s the most important person in the world to him.

The restaurant isn’t too busy this time of night, meaning she and Sam are practically alone. Like they’re the only two people in the world right now. But honestly, Y/N doesn’t care if the restaurant is packed or empty. All she cares about now is being by Sam’s side. Like she said earlier, it feels like they’ve known each other for years now. They’re both just so comfortable and open around each other, nobody could’ve guessed they only met earlier tonight. Y/N just wishes this night could go on forever. 

If she could, she’d stay by his side forever.

After their meal, Sam insists on walking her home like the true gentlemanly superhero he is.

“Those burgers were incredible.” He sighs happily, holding his stomach. Y/N giggles.

“Told you so. It’s your turn to pick next time, alright Cap?”

“You know… I kinda love it when you call me Cap.” He admits, chuckling.

“I’ll be sure to do it all the time then… Cap.” She winks, which looks like it almost sends Sam’s heart into overdrive. It’s so strange, seeing such a charming literal superhero reduced to a grinning, love struck mess around her. But then again, she’s sure that she’s the same around him.

Sam walks her all the way home, keeping her hand still clasped in his. In fact, she doesn’t think he’s let go of her hand since they left the speed dating venue, keeping her safe and close to him the entire night. Not that she’s complaining, though. Honestly, she hopes he never lets her go.

Unfortunately for them both, soon their walk comes to an end, and they reach the outside of Y/N’s apartment building.

“Guess this is the end of the line.” Sam sighs. 

“Oh please, that’s such a Cap line.” Y/N rolls her eyes. Yet, she can’t help but laugh at his joke. “Seriously though, thank you for tonight, Sam. I had a lot of fun.” Immediately, the mood changes. It’s almost as if the happy moments from earlier tonight are gone as the pair remember that, at least for tonight, the good times are over. All Y/N can think of is one thing:

She doesn’t want this night, or her time with Sam, to ever end.

“You’re welcome. Thank you for taking a chance on me.” Y/N scoffs.

“I wasn’t taking a chance. I really connected with you, Sam, and I want to spend more time with you.” He starts grinning again, one of those huge smiles that takes over your entire face and with a warmth that feels like the sun itself. And it’s all for her.

“You know….” He trails off, chuckling. “I was going to ask if you really did want to go on another date with me, so I’m really glad you said that. Mostly, though, it’s because you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen… and I think I’m falling in love with you, Y/N.” She gasps, and her heart begins to pound even faster. Sam comes closer, closing the gap between them both. So close they’re only inches apart now. “May I?” He whispers, tilting his head towards hers. Y/N nods, too speechless to say anything. Slowly, like they’re in a movie, Sam gently leans in, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. When their lips connect, it sends a tingle down her spine and sends her heart into overdrive. Sam wraps his hands around her waist, whilst hers go onto his shoulders. He holds her there for what feels like hours, safe in his embrace. “Can I call you tomorrow?” He asks once they finally, yet reluctantly break apart.

“Of course. Like you even have to ask.” He leans in again, this time kissing her cheek.

“Goodnight Y/N.” He whispers, his breath hot against her cheek.

“Goodnight Sam.”

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[fluffyprettykitty]

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.

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[fandoms-writings]

How about “you know me better than that” with Sam Wilson 💙

Hi Em! This is my first time ever writing for Sam <3

Sam stopped at your apartment to check on you. You hadn't responded to his messages, but he knew you probably wouldn't. He disappeared without a word for a few weeks with Bucky for a mission. It was last minute and you were out with some friends and he didn't want to worry you, but he knows he should've said good-bye at least. 

He had already knocked and was waiting with a bouquet of flowers in his hands for you to open the door. He heard some shuffling on the other end before the door whipped open. Looking up from the bundle of your favorite flowers, he wanted to throw on his best charming smile but halted when he saw the anger in your eyes. 

"Uh, hi sweetheart," He said, suddenly nervous at the rage swimming in your pupils. 

"Don't 'hi sweetheart' me, Wilson," You growled out, "Where the hell have you been? It's been two weeks!" 

Nervously swallowing and clearing his throat, he held the flowers out, "I can explain, if you wanna let me in?" He watched as you huffed a breath through your nose before taking the flowers from him. 

"I don't want to let you in, but I don't want the neighbors hearing either, so get in here." You turned and walked into your apartment, leaving him to shut the door behind him as he followed you to the kitchen, waiting while you got a vase and water for the flowers. 

Once you were done, you turned on him with your arms crossed as you leaned against the counter behind you. 

"Well? Care to explain?" 

"You know I'm Captain America now, sometimes I have to go away for a while." He offered, but you just scoffed. 

"Yes I know that, I'm not dumb. But you left without a word! Do you have any idea what went through my head thinking of all the things that could've happened?" 

"I know, I'm sorry." 

"No," You stopped him, "You don't know. I thought something happened to you. I thought you were never coming back." 

He froze at the sight of tears lining your lashes, ones you tried to keep from falling. 

"Part of me even thought that maybe I did something that made you leave. That maybe I ruined us," You muttered and he stepped forward, gently grabbing your elbows to pull your arms from their crossed position. He slid his hands down your arms to grab your hands, holding them between the two of you. 

"Sweetheart, you know me better than that," He softly said, looking down at you with his brows pinched, "Don't you?" 

You sighed, letting the tears slide past your lashes, "I thought I did, but then you vanished." 

At that, his heart broke in two and the pieces plummeted through the floor beneath his feet. Gently tugging on your hands, giving you time to resist, he pulled you into a crushing embrace. 

"I'm so sorry, love," He muttered into your hair, pressing his lips there, "I should've told you what was goin' on." 

"Yeah you should've," You mumbled into his jacket, your hands slowly but surely moving to wrap around his back. "If you want this to work, you have to tell me these things." 

"I know," He sighed, "I just didn't want you to worry while you were out with your friends that night." 

You gave him a light smack on his back, "You big dummy," you mumbled before pulling back, "I'd rather know and worry for your safety than sit here wondering where you went." 

"I know, I'm sorry." He squeezed you to him, trying to convey how sorry he felt through this embrace and you squoze him right back. 

"Just don't do it again." You demanded, pulling back to look up at him through your wet lashes. 

"I promise, never again." He gave you a small smile, "And if I ever do, I'll let Bucky smack me upside the head, how about that?" 

That pulled a soft giggle from you, "Only if it's not with the vibranium arm, we can't have him giving you a concussion now can we?" 

He let out a hearty laugh, "No I suppose we can't."

Come join me for a drabble weekend!

[late-to-the-party-81]

C, J, and/or P for Sam Wilson???

Thank you for this ask, Nonny. Love me some Sam Wilson goodness! I’m going with a Canon-esque Sam here, like from the one-shots found here.

Find my thots under the cut!

C - Crying (is it a turn on? a turn off? do they cry during sex? have they cried during sex? what was the reason?)

Sam’s not into dacryphilia and wouldn’t try to make you cry on purpose. However, once, when he’d been drawing it out as long as possible, rolling his hips oh-so-slowly and just enjoying the clutch of your body, you’d come so hard, so intensely, that tears had started to roll down your cheeks. The sight pushed him over the edge and as you both came down he wiped each one away with either his thumb or his lips.

J - Jelly (what kind of lube are they using? is it flavored? have they tasted it? do they prefer to use something other than real lube during sex?)

Your pleasure is of utmost importance in Sam’s mind and he knows that your levels of natural lubrication alter over the course of your menstrual cycle. To that end, he’s got a variety of lubes on hand and is happy to use them for your comfort. He has the water-based lubes for use with his fingers, cock and various toys for your pussy and silicone lube to use for shower sex or when you both feel like some back door fun.

P - Photography (are cameras allowed in the bedroom? do they send nudes? do they ask for nudes? would they ever record themselves having sex / being caught up in a sexual act?)

Sam loves taking photos, either ones of you looking all fucked out to keep him -ahem- warm when he’s away on missions, or ones of himself so you don’t miss him so much when he’s gone. If he’s feeling puckish, he’ll send you cheeky selfies throughout the day to get you going - slightly sweaty post gym snaps, where he’s only wearing soft grey training shorts and tape around his hands, a picture of him swigging a cold drink, with droplets working their way down his neck, an over the shoulder mirror shot of him wearing his suit so you can see just how good his ass looks in the state of the art Wakandan fabric. He knows exactly what it does to you and he’s more than willing to take every advantage he can get. And if you happen to send some of your own in response, all the better.

Find the link to the ask list here!

Feel free to send asks about my interpretation of canon hotties or any of my AU’s!

[jewels2876]

No Reason

A/N: Finishing up my bingo card!

Square filled for @marvelfluffbingo​: Buying flowers for no reason

Pairing: Sam Wilson x female reader Warnings: none, just fluff! Word Count: 171

He stared at the collection of flowers in front of him, racking his brain to remember... "Did you need some help?" the staff member offered.

"Unless you know what my girlfriend's favorite flowers are, probably not." Heat flushed across his face. "Are those roses?" His finger pointed just past the staff member.

"Yes. Is there a special occasion?"

You squealed at the massive bouquet headed in your direction. "Sam! You shouldn't have!" You inhaled deeply, savoring the scents of roses, carnations, and lilies.  

"I wanted to spoil my girl." Sam knew you needed no explanation but it felt good to say it anyway. "Do you like them? I know they aren't your favorite."

You screeched. "What?! I LOVE lilies; the lavender color is so beautiful! I think they should go on the dining room table so everyone can see them." 

Sam followed your direction and set them down on the table. "So you like them?" Sam bent his head as you reached up to kiss him.

"I love them," you muttered against his lips.

[anonymityisfunwriter]

Oh my loveliest nonny writer. I'm in great need of some protective Sam vibes, with a sick or hurt reader who hides it to not make a fuss, she's afraid the others think she's too weak to be in the team, cause she's new. But Sam noticing her being hurt or sick and goes all in full blown protective mode. And takes cares of her 🥹😪 and makes sure that she can trust him. 💔

"my loveliest nonny writer" 🥹🥹 i'm swear my heart is ready to explode. you guys are just all so sweet. i hope you enjoy and thank you so much 💛

Pairing - Sam Wilson x Reader Sam Wilson Masterlist | Anon's 1K Celebration

i'll take care of you.

Sam Wilson is the epitome of caretaker. He is Caretaker with a capital C. He notices something off with you the moment he walks into the conference room, far before anyone else does.

Your head is tipped into your hand, eyes slightly glassy, flushed pallor.

"You look like hell."

You barely move - another sign that you're not feeling good. Your eyes dart over to him as he stands over you, "Thanks."

"Go get some rest. I'll catch you up on anything you miss," Sam offers, concern painting his face.

You wave him off, or at least, you try to wave him off, "I'm fine. It's just allergies."

He presses a hand to your forehead, his lips pursing in distaste, "Allergies don't give you a fever. Go back to bed. I'll check on you when the meeting's over."

You softly grunt in objection, "No."

You know you're being stubborn, but the whole reason you dragged yourself out of bed this morning was to prove a point. You wanted to prove you could handle whatever this team threw at you - even if that was just a little virus.

The point was getting a little murky with the fever, but it was a point nonetheless. You shake your head, making yourself a little dizzy.

"Listen, you're not helping anyone by being here like this. Help us by helping yourself," Sam softly explains like he can see exactly what's going on without you even having to tell him. "And if anyone gives you shit for it, I'll kick their ass. Promise."

"Sam..." you grumble.

"Go or I'll carry you out of here."

Your glare is softened by how miserable you look. "You're really bossy, you know?"

It doesn't stop there. Not with Sam Wilson as your Caretaker.

He was right, even if you don't want to admit it. Because after he sent you away, the second your head hits the pillow, you're out like a light. You're not sure how long you've slept until you're suddenly awoken by Sam's presence.

"Knock, knock," Sam announces himself, entering your room armed with the sick survival kits of sick survival kits.

You sleepily groan, "Aren't you supposed to do that before you walk into a room? How did you even get in here?

"The door," Sam cheekily replies.

"It was locked."

"I may or may not have a key."

"We'll talk about this when I can see straight."

Sam crouches down to the edge of your bed. He presses a hand to your forehead again. "You're still burning up. You might have the flu."

You halfheartedly push him away. "The flu is contagious, Sam. Go away."

"Just let me take care of you."

"You don't have to."

"I want to." He tenderly strokes the hair out of your face. "This would be a lot more romantic if you weren't all sweaty."

"I hate you."

"And in spite of how mean you're being, I brought you a few things." He reaches for his bag, unpacking item by item. "Tissues. Cooling rags. Plenty of fluids, Gatorade, ginger ale, and some tea. But most importantly, my mom's world famous chicken soup. Perfect for when you're feeling sick."

"You take such good care of me," you hum, reaching out and gently stroking his cheek. "My favorite nurse."

"I think you're delirious," Sam chuckles. His heart fluttering at your sweet caress. He reaches over you, pulling your thick cover over you, tucking you in. He presses a gentle kiss to the crown of your head, "I'll always take care of you."

Anon's 1K Celebration Sam Wilson Masterlist AnonymityIsFun Masterlist

As always, let me know what you think! Reblogs and comments are always appreciated! 💛

Taglist: @marianita195 @meli18gonzalez @ludicbouquetfromearth @matchat3a @famousbreadcherryblossomsstuff @valoraxx @blue786sworld @buckyandgeraltsupremacy @geminigengar @ansaturn @ecolle @lexhalstead3 @ybflkmj @mediocre-daydreams @shanye1112 @thegirlnextdoorssister @toomanyfanficsbruh @moonlightreader649 @breathtaking-cynthia @mirikusashes@beans-and-toast @niyahcoca @katiechikin @elxvrr @antiheroxsblog @infamouslyclumsy @krissydclayton93 @buckysbarne @deadheadwbedhead @qualitygiantshoepsychic @whitexwolfxx310 @getosprettyboy @matchat3a @weallhaveadestiny @mostlymarvelgirl @honeydew3064

[buckets-and-trees]

Are We Falling

Fandom: MCU Characters/Pairings: Sam Wilson x female!Reader Word Count: 1k

Summary: It wasn’t going to be more than one date, but he’s not like anyone you’ve ever known – suddenly, unexpectedly, and dangerously becoming everything.

Content Warnings: smut with feelings, oral (f receiving), unprotected vaginal intercourse

Additional Notes: Written for @wndalovebot’s Words Written by the Sea challenge. You’ll find the prompt I snagged bolded and italicized in the dialogue. I listened to Taylor Swift’s Snow on the Beach on repeat much of the time I was composing this. You can imagine whatever you want for this reader, but I feel like this reader is over thirty, and she hasn’t been in a million relationships, but she’s also hit that stride in her life where she’s maybe come to terms with being happy with her life, doesn’t need a man, but somehow she’s crossed paths with Sam, and he just seems to fit into her life little by little over a couple of months, and she doesn’t need him, but she wants him, and that feeling can be terrifying.

You had one hand clutched to your chest and the other was twisted in the sheets as you desperately tried to catch your breath after shattering from an orgasm, decidedly looking at the ceiling and not at the man between your legs, softly caressing your hip and pressing a kiss to the tender flesh of your inner thigh.

After a moment, he began to move up your body, slowly planting more heated kisses, charting your skin methodically with his lips and fingers as he made his way upward, in no rush. One of his hands moved beneath your back, sliding up your spine, and you arched up as his fingers sought the clasp of your bra. Deftly, he managed the hooks with just the one hand, and then pulled the satin garment from your body, tossing it away, completely naked for him at last.

“Beautiful,” he whispered, his hand moving to caress one of your breasts and his lips kissing along the swell of the other breast before moving to your nipple, sucking gently, and drawing a moan from you. He grinned, but he wasn’t done with his exploratory path upwards.

The kisses he left on the center of your chest were pure and soft in a way that made your heart ache, but you couldn’t think long on that, because then when his lips moved to your neck, the heat was back.

“Still with me?”

“Mhmm,” you hummed.

“Good.”

He seemed already to know too well how to pull you apart piece by piece, continuing to do some expert work along the column of your throat and across your collar bone, and then back up.

But too soon he pulled those lips away from your skin, and you were about to pout, but he planted his forearm beside your head and leaned up over you, and the way he looked into your eyes made you forget how to breathe for a moment, his brown eyes seeping into your soul.

Finally, it was too much, your breath hitched, and you looked away as a short laugh escaped from your chest.

“What's the matter, love? You get nervous when I look at you like this?”

You had been nothing but nerves around him tonight. But did he call everyone love? His other hand came up to cup your cheek, urging you to look back at him again.

He murmured your name sweetly, another entreaty to answer him.

Your body was naked beneath him, why not just bare your soul, too?

“Yes, Sam, I’m more nervous than I’ve probably ever been in my life,” you said in a rush.

“I’m sorry, this was too fast,” he responded, rolling over to the side.

“No, no, it’s not – it’s just –“

You paused and took a deep breath, turning to face him.

“When we went on our first date, I didn’t really care, I had no expectations, I figured I’d just go out with this guy who was Captain America, and it’d be an interesting anecdote I could file away, but then it went really well,” you started.

“I thought so, too,” he agreed.

You pressed your fingers gently to his lips. You knew he could talk, he was so good at it that it was one of the things that had you wrapped up in this relationship more than any other man before him, but you needed to get your thoughts out without interruption.

“And then we started really talking, and sure it sucked that because you were out saving the world a lot our schedules didn’t line up to physically spend the time together, but maybe we got to know each other even better over all those weeks because of that. But what really made it the worst, and I really tried not to, but I still put ridiculously high stakes on this second date of ours. I was hoping I had built you up too high in my memory, and then every part of tonight just got better and better, and somehow it doesn’t feel like it’s too fast even though it might be, but I’m so nervous only because I can’t stand the thought of this not continuing. I more than like you, Sam, I–“

“No!” he interrupted. He covered your hand with his and pressed a kiss into your palm, then pulled your hands down to rest on his chest. “I’m right there with you, and I’m staying. Two dates is fast, but like you’ve already said, we’re so far past that – at least I know I am. My heart wants you and no one else.”

“Sam,” you gasped.

“If I’ve learned anything from this weird life I live, it’s not to waste a moment. I love you, and I’m saying it first so you don’t question that I mean it, and I want you to get used to me looking at you like this,” he said.

Your heart was racing, and you couldn’t help the smile that burst across your face. “I love you, too.”

“There will probably never be anything normal or conventional about being Captain America’s girlfriend, but as Sam, know that I’m yours.”

You leaned forward to capture his lips in a kiss, winding one arm around his neck to move flush against him. His hand splayed across your back, moving slowly up and down.

When you were out of breath, you broke off the kiss, and rested your forehead against his. “I don’t need normal or conventional as long as it’s real.”

“Never doubt it, love. You wanting me as much as I’m wanting you feels impossible, but it’s real.”

He rolled you both so he was hovering over you again.

“You have me,” you breathed against his lips. “So take me.”

He reached between the two of you, lining up his cock with your entrance, and slid into your heat, just like he’d slid into every bit of your soul. It was exquisite, and beyond the physical, you knew this moment was everything, and you were ready to fall and never let him go.

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

[ghostofskywalker]

Where Love Blooms

Sam Wilson/Fem!Reader

Words: 2,362

Summary: You’ve started secretly using your powers to help the Avengers’ little garden flourish, but what happens when you get sick? 

Sam Wilson Masterlist 

Sam was the only other person in the kitchen when you walked in, and you smiled shyly at him as you made your way to the coffee machine. “Morning Y/N,” he said brightly. “Got any big plans for the day?”

You shook your head in response. “Not really. Tony wants me to help him make the flower beds at the front of compound look nicer, but that won’t take too long.”

Sam laughed. “That’s the problem of having flower powers I guess,” he said. “Everyone wants you to do their landscaping.”

“Well it doesn't work exactly like that, but yeah,” you responded. “But I don’t mind, it’s nice to make pretty things with my magic.”

You chatted with him for a few moments while you waited for your cup of coffee to finish brewing, but he had to step away after being called for a meeting. Sam was always your favorite of your teammates, as he was the first to warm up to you and consistently was one of the few people (other than Wanda) who made an effort to include you in team activities like movie night or game day (when you got to sit to the side and watch Clint, Steve, Sam, Bucky and Tony all get way too competitive over monopoly). It didn’t help that you had a huge crush on him as well, something that you didn’t think anyone else was aware of yet (and you wanted to keep to yourself).

It wasn’t that you thought everyone was afraid of you, but after being found just over a year ago in a HYDRA base surrounded by people experimenting on you because of your powers, you weren’t exactly the most extroverted person in the world. Bucky was probably the one who most understood your struggles, but the fact that he had Steve, someone that he was familiar with before his life as the fist of HYDRA, helped him to adjust fairly quickly, whereas you had no one. Your powers didn’t even seem that useful compared to others on the team, because what good was being able to conjure up plants and flowers at will or bring wilted plants back to their strongest state when you were joined by people with superhuman strength, expert marksmen, or people who could fly? And there was still so much you didn’t know about your own power that really all you could do was reliably keep vegetation alive and bring no-hope houseplants back from the dead.

You were just finishing your breakfast when Tony stepped into the kitchen. “Ah, just who I was looking for!” he said as he poured himself some coffee. “You all ready to head outside and look at the flowerbeds? The Avengers are many things, but none of us are gardeners, so it’s looking a little sickly.”

You laughed. “Yeah, let me just put my plate away and then we can go look. And I’m sure it’s not as bad as you were saying.”

Tony started to laugh at your response, but stopped himself. “I think it is. Although Cap, Barton, and Barnes are good teammates, I think they’re behind the fact that every single plant we seem to acquire dies within three months.”

“Why are they doing the gardening then?” you asked.

“Beats me. I asked Capsicle if he wanted me to get your help with this, but he insisted that he was fine. Now I’m just tired of looking at those poor plants and imagining them screaming for help, so here I am. If he asks, I’ll just say I forgot to tell you which flower beds not to touch.”

You chuckled as you walked with Tony out to the gardens of the compound. The flower beds at the front were fairly easy, as they just needed a little bit of water, but the garden in the back (which was apparently being tended to by Clint, Steve, and Bucky) was really just a small patch of dirt with some pitiful looking plants. After surveying the area, you turned to Tony. “Do you have any idea what they’re trying to grow? It would help if I knew what was going wrong.”

He shrugged. “I have no clue, sorry.”

You sat down on the ground next to the garden and gently laid your hand over the soil. One of the two plots was bone dry, and the other one looked like it was more water than dirt. After using your magic to dry out one plot and water the other, you turned your attention to the biggest problem: the fact that the garden was placed just next to the building, and wasn’t getting as much sunlight as you suspected these plants needed. That was thankfully something you could fix, and you rested your hands on the soil of both plots and thought about strengthening what was growing. Immediately, there was a noticeable difference. Sprouts that you thought were just greenery started to bloom, and soon there was a small array of colorful flowers spread out in the two plots.

“Holy shit,” Tony said as he watched a small sunflower bloom from what had looked like a sad patch of weeds. “You fixed it.”

“Well, not exactly,” you said. “As long as I pay a little attention to it every few days, they’ll be fine. But unfortunately whoever picked this area didn’t realize that it doesn’t get the best sunlight, so that’s part of the reason they were having trouble.”

“Can you do that without telling the clown car that you’re using your magic?” Tony asked. “Steve was a little insistent that he didn’t want any help, but you saw how dire the situation was.”

You laughed. “Yeah, I can keep it on the down low, don’t worry.”

After that day, you kept your word to Tony. Steve, Bucky, and Clint were over the moon about the success of their little garden, and you just sat by and waited until they were at meetings to make sure the plants weren’t being over watered or under watered. It seemed like Natasha suspected something might have been up, but she never said anything about it. Sometimes it felt like Sam might know the truth about the garden too, because he seemed to seek you out more often in the following weeks, but you couldn’t be sure, so you chalked it up to nerves and your crush on him.

***

After nearly two months, everything was going along beautifully, until one day out of nowhere all the flowers on the little plots started to wither and wilt, and Steve, Bucky, and Clint had no idea why. Sam walked by the three of them and stopped to see what they were staring at. He was used to seeing their little garden bright and full of life, but now it looked like something was wrong, with many of the flowers wilted and leaves turning slightly brown. “What do you think happened?” he asked Steve. “Did we forget to water them?”

Steve shook his head. “I don’t think so, I just watered them yesterday morning, and the weather isn’t even that extreme, so I have no idea what might be causing them to look like this.”

At that moment Tony happened to walk by, and he joined the conversation. “Do you think Y/N might be sick or something?” he asked. “And that she’s affecting all the plants in the general vicinity?”

“I don’t know if she’s sick, but I don’t think she’s the one affecting the plants here,” Clint said. “Because all the trees around here are fine, and so is all the grass on the lawn.”

“Yeah, but Y/N never invested any of her magic in the nearby trees or grass.”

Steve stopped, turning towards Tony as he caught onto the implication. “I thought I told you not to ask for her help,” he said. “Is that why everything has been growing recently?”

Tony nodded slowly, and Sam had to stifle a laugh. He had watched Steve, Bucky, and Clint “take care” of this garden, and honestly it was a surprise the plants even lived at all. He had even brought up the idea that you may have had something to do with the success of the flowers (because no plant could ever stand watering habits that terrible, no matter how resilient they were), but Steve always denied it. He thought it was nice, the way you had been helping them in secret, and the way that you obviously cared about these plants even though you didn’t have to. “I think I’m going to go check on Y/N,” Sam said, and the other men nodded. “And even if she isn’t sick, maybe she could help figure out what’s wrong with your garden.”

He went directly to your room, and knocked gently on the door. “Who is it?” you asked, and he could immediately tell from your voice that you weren’t feeling your best.

“It’s Sam,” he said tentatively.

“Come in,” you said, and FRIDAY unlocked the door for Sam. Your room was almost completely dark, except for a single lamp on your bedside table, but even that was on the dimmest setting. Sam couldn’t see you, but there was a lump on your bed, a cocoon of covers that housed your body. He could hear you sniffling as he walked in, and the mountain of tissues that was slowly growing in the garbage can was hard to miss.

“I just wanted to check on you, but I think we’re past me asking if you’re okay,” he said quietly. “Do you want me to get you anything?”

Your head popped out from under the covers, and you definitely looked unwell. Sam’s heart broke for you, because he never wanted to see you unhappy. “How about a cold bottle of water?” you asked quietly, your voice slightly scratchy.

After he returned to your bedroom with a bottle of water for you, he found that you had pulled yourself into a sitting position. “Here,” he said, and you took a long drink.

“Thank you,” you responded. “How did you know I was here?”

“Tony thought you might be sick,” he said. “All the plants you’ve tended to recently are drooping and withered, so we thought it might be a side effect of your magic.”

“Oh no,” you said, and you moved to get up, but Sam held out his hands to stop you. You managed to pull yourself up to a sitting position, but you didn’t get out of bed. “Then I guess Steve knows I’ve been helping him with his little garden, right?”

Sam laughed. “Yes, but I don’t think he’s too mad about it. He really should have realized that he wasn’t doing anything right.”

For the first time today, your face cracked into a smile. “I should go fix them though.”

“No, you need to take care of yourself first,” he said. “We can always buy Steve some new flowers, but you’re irreplaceable.”

“I don’t know-”

“Y/N, stop,” Sam cut you off, and your eyes widened slightly. “You see yourself as less than the rest of us, but that’s not true. We may not know the full extent of your powers yet, but we like being around you, and it would break my- our hearts to see you overexert yourself because you think that a few flowers are more important than your health.” He was hoping that you didn’t catch his little slip up, because this really didn’t seem like the best time to ask you out (something he’d been trying to pluck up the courage to do).

“Thank you Sam,” you said quietly. “And for the record, I like being around you too. I like everyone, but I think it would break my heart too if I stopped seeing you.”

So obviously you had caught his slip up. “I like you,” he said, immediately cursing himself for not choosing something a little more eloquent.

“I like you too.” Your smile was beautiful, and Sam decided that he never wanted to see it go away.

“No, I like you more than just as a teammate,” he said. “And it broke my heart to see you sick like this. You don’t need to lie to me if you don’t feel the same way, but-”

“I mean it like that too,” you blurted out, and Sam’s heart felt like it had just jumped from his chest. “I was always too afraid to say it, and it is a little embarrassing to be admitting this while i’m too sick to leave my room, but I didn’t want you to think I didn’t care about you.”

“I’m so sorry-”

“No, it’s okay. Please don’t beat yourself up over it.”

He sat down on the edge of the bed, and reached out to gently take your hand. “When you’re feeling better, I’d really like to take you out on a date, if that’s okay with you.”

Your smile grew even bigger. “I’d really like that.”

Sam was completely ready to lean in and kiss you (even if it meant catching whatever sickness you had), but at that moment FRIDAY had something to say to him. “Mr. Wilson, Mr. Stark would like to remind you that you’re five minutes late for a meeting as of right now.”

Sam sighed, but you only laughed. “Fine,” he said. “I’ll be down there in a minute. I’m so sorry about that.” The last sentence was directed towards you, spoken more quietly than his words to the AI.

“Don’t worry about it,” you said. “How about you come back in a little while? Even if I can’t go out just yet, we can still eat dinner together.”

He smiled at your suggestion. “I’d like that.”

But FRIDAY was not done interrupting just yet. “Mr. Wilson!”

“Oh tell Tony I’m on my way already!!”

He bid you goodbye and gently closed the door behind him before heading down to the meeting room, where he would definitely be complaining about the way he was interrupted, if he could manage to keep the smile off his face for a few minutes that is.

- the end -

[onceuponastory]

desperately seeking sam - sam wilson x reader

Plot: After meeting Sam at a festival, Y/N finds herself falling deeply and madly in love with him. When they are forced to go their separate ways, Y/N can't wait to see him again... but there's only one problem. She doesn't know his surname, or even his phone number. But Sam has the perfect idea to find her. Pairing: Sam Wilson x Female!Reader Warnings: Mentions of alcohol. As always if I miss any triggers, let me know. Notes: Sam is not the Falcon or Captain America in this, because I figured he'd be really recognisable if he was, and I wanted to add the element of them searching for one another! I saw a poster like this the other day, and thought it would be something Sam would do, so here we are.

Joining the long queue for the bar, Y/N hums along with the music playing from behind her, the sounds of drums and guitars filling the air. Bopping her head to the beat, she steps closer and closer to the front of the line, smiling as the sun beats down on her. Y/N’s been spending the day at a music festival, and despite being alone, she’s actually having a lot of fun. But that may be because of the cocktails they have. After paying for her drink, she turns, ready to go back to the music, not really paying much attention to her surroundings. That is, however, until she collides with someone, the cold liquid of both of their drinks splashing on his chest. Y/N’s eyes widen, shame seeping through her… much like the remnants of her drink. “Oh, my god. I’m so sorry.” She gasps, immediately sobering up. “I’ll pay for a new one… and for that to be dry cleaned.” She expects the person to be angry, but to her pleasant surprise, the man grins, instantly filling her with relief. His smile is so bright, and fills her with such a warm feeling, that her worries soon fade away.

“No! Not at all. It happens.” He reassures her. “I will definitely accept that drink offer, though. Can’t let a pretty lady like yourself feel bad, right?” He flirts, and Y/N chuckles. It’s been so long since someone flirted with her so openly, and she definitely wasn’t expecting to fall in love with someone at a music festival of all places. …But the man is so attractive, she doesn’t seem to mind. “Well, thank you.” She grins as they rejoin the growing queue at the bar, trying to act cool and like she definitely knows what she’s doing, and isn’t woefully inexperienced at flirting. “Can’t let a handsome guy like yourself go without, now can I?” Y/N watches him curiously, waiting to see how he reacts to the line she dropped. Thankfully, he grins. “I like your way of thinking.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

She soon learns the man’s name is Sam, and he’s originally from Delacroix, but lives and works in New York now. He tells her all kinds of stories, and Y/N hangs onto his every word. He’s so interesting. So funny, so charming, so kind.

And honestly, she thinks she’s falling in love with him.

Y/N and Sam spend the rest of the day together, learning more and more about one another in between musical acts. It certainly is the most unorthodox way she’s ever met someone, but that just makes it more exciting, a funny story to tell all their friends and family. If they ever make it that far, that is. And god, she hopes they do. Thinking about their future may be moving on too quickly, but Y/N doesn’t care. She’s just so happy in the moment. That night, as the festival draws to a close, she and Sam go see the headliner, dancing and singing along at the top of their lungs. As the music pounds, almost pumping through her entire body and bloodstream, Y/N has never felt so alive. And it seems Sam feels the same. “Can I kiss you?” He calls over the music. “What?” She asks, wondering if she misheard him. But then he asks her again, and Y/N realises he’s serious. Smiling, she nods. Sam grabs her, pulling her close as the last song reaches its climax. He presses his lips to hers in a passionate kiss, grinning. Y/N cups his cheeks with her hands, pulling Sam even closer to her. Her heart pounds, and her stomach swells. As they kiss, the band turns on their confetti cannon, raining multicoloured pieces down on them, landing on their clothes, their head, their feet.

It’s perfect.

After the last act has ended, Sam walks her back to the train station with the rest of the crowd, keeping a soft, protective hold on her hand. Honestly, Y/N is glad to have it. After their kiss, she feels like she’s walking on air. Sam’s helping to bring her back down to earth again. “It was great to meet you Y/N.” Sam smiles, and Y/N nods, her smile just as wide. Hopefully this dream night lasts forever. “It was wonderful to meet you, too.” She replies. He leads her all the way down to her platform. As her train thunders into the station, he finally lets her hand go. Y/N’s heart sinks, and she reaches out for it again for a moment. Somehow, she already feels at home in his grasp. “Goodnight Sam.” Y/N whispers, pecking his cheek as the train doors open. “Goodnight Y/N.” Y/N almost considers staying there and missing her train, even if it’s just for another second of Sam’s time. As he looks over her, smiling softly. But as the doors' loud beeping, signifying they’re about to close, fills the air, Sam gently nudges her inside. “You better go before you miss your train.” He chuckles. She sits by the window, staring out at the man who changed her night and made her feel incredible. He gives her a wave, and the train slowly pulls out of the station.

But as Sam disappears from view, a horrible realisation dawns on Y/N, spoiling her cheerful mood. Like a rain cloud on a bright, sunny day. “I don’t even know his last name. Or his number. How will I ever see him again?”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“You kissed her? And you didn’t even get her number?!” Bucky gasps in disbelief from across the table, his eyes wide. Sam sighs, nodding. The second he woke up the day after meeting Y/N, after making sure it wasn’t a dream, he headed off to see Bucky and ask for his advice. Or at least… what Bucky classes as advice.

“Yes, I did. And no, I didn’t.” Bucky shakes his head, still in disbelief, which doesn’t make Sam feel any better. “Yes. I know I’m an idiot. But I wasn’t thinking about that sort of stuff, you know? I just was thinking about kissing her, holding her and maybe taking-” 

“Okay, I get it.” Bucky nods, cutting him off. “So, you've already searched through social media for her?" Sam nods. "Well what are you going to do? You can’t exactly camp outside of the train station until she comes back, can you?”

“Can’t I?” Sam jokes, and Bucky frowns. “I know, I know. I’m kidding.” He sighs. And then… an idea strikes. “I know what to do.” Sam grins.

Every day since the festival ended, Y/N hopes and prays that she’ll find Sam again. She scrolls through social media every day, checking for a post or message about her. But each day only brings more and more disappointment. And after a few days with no messages, Y/N just settles back into her regular, mundane existence: going to and from work each day and getting home to enjoy what little time she has to herself before doing it all again the next day.

And trying to ignore the aching feeling in her heart whenever she thinks of Sam, of course. Y/N tries to stop herself from feeling disappointed, telling herself that this is just life. It gives you the best thing in your life… and then snatches it away from you. It may be unfair, but it’s just what happens. Although it may have been foolish, she was still hoping that things for her and Sam would be different, that he’d find her again.

But as the days pass, that seems less and less likely. “You like him.” Her coworker grins, smirking at her from across her desk one day. “You should try to find him.” “How? I don’t even have his number, or his last name. Do you know how many Sams there are in New York alone?” Y/N groans, resting her head in her hands. “I can’t believe that in this world full of technology, you can’t find your true love who you met at a festival. It’s like… some modern Cinderella story or something. And you didn’t even need to lose a shoe!” “Really not helping.” Y/N groans, not even looking up. Deep down, though, she knows her coworker is right. And she’d be lying if she said that despite her disappointment, this whole experience wasn’t exciting her. To have someone searching for her, and to be searching for him just as much, trying every possible route to find one another, like some modern fairytale rom-com mashup.

It doesn’t make the longing for Sam any better, though.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Later that day, after her shift is finally over, Y/N joins the throngs of commuters heading home. Her mind is on other things, like what she’s going to have for dinner, and if her neighbour has actually taken his trash out.

It’s only when she arrives at her train station and notices a group of people huddled around something on the wall that she’s broken out of her thoughts. Curiously, she strains her neck, trying to see what has everyone so interested. Finally, she gets close enough to see what they were looking at. A handwritten poster is on the wall outside the station. When she sees what is written there, her eyes widen.

“To Y/N, the gorgeous woman I bonded with at the festival, yet I was stupid enough to leave without getting her number. Hopefully this works. Keep dancing and call me sometime. Love Sam.” Under the message is a phone number. Y/N smiles, taking out her phone and dialling the number.  He answers right away, of course.

“Hello? Sam?” she asks. “It’s Y/N. …Yeah, I saw your poster. …No, no. I love it! It’s wonderful. Unique for sure.” She laughs. “...Sure, I’d love to meet up for coffee.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

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[literaryavenger]

Can I be him?

Summary: When Bucky finds something of yours, he hopes against hope that you feel the same way about him.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Enhanced!Fem!Reader

Warnings: Language cause it's me. Fluff. A lot of angst. Idiots in love. Self-deprecating thoughts, both reader and Bucky. No use of Y/N. My poor attempts at being funny.

Word Count: 4.8K

A/N: It’s 3am where I live, so… Happy 107th Birthday to my favorite Supersoldier! Today I’m posting 2 Bucky fics because my baby deserves it, this one and another one sometime around the afternoon. Hope someone likes it! Thank you to my angels @ordelixx and @mrsbuckybarnes1917 that gave me so many ideas that helped me finish this. I love you🖤

Masterlist

Being an Avenger is not easy.

The long missions, the intense training, the weight of the world on your shoulders…

Everybody on the team has a different way to unwind after a mission: Steve draws, Clint and Natasha compete doing target practice, Thor sleeps, Sam plays video games, Bucky takes motorcycle rides, Tony and Bruce work on side projects in their lab, Loki reads, Peter does his homework and Wanda cooks with Vision.

For you, it’s going to the rose garden behind the Compound.

It’s a bit of a sanctuary for you, Tony allowed you to put tall hedges of roses with a gazebo-like structure in the middle of them facing the lake, only it’s entirely made of vines.

You made it yourself, that’s your power: you can manipulate anything plant-related. 

Everytime you finish a mission the team splits up as soon as the debriefing is over and you walk straight here.

You sit on the bench, also made of vines, take out your diary and start writing.

You write about everything, from details of missions to your feelings about the team. From things you did that you don’t want to forget to things that you want to do after you’re not so tired anymore.

The hedges hide you from view and the only thing you can see when you’re here is the lake.

Sometimes, after a particular difficult mission, you don’t even write. You just sit there and look out into the water, the sunshine or moonlight shining down on you, and you feel at peace.

It helps that nobody else ever comes here. The team understands it’s your safe space, and the agents are mostly scared of your powers ever since you grew a giant carnivorous plant and it bit an agent that squeezed your ass during training. 

The agent got both taken to the medbay and suspended on the same day, and you got the thanks of about a dozen girls that had the same problem with the same asshole.

You walk out of the conference room, the debriefing of the team’s latest mission just wrapped up, and like usual everyone scatters to their own after-mission ritual.

Today, though, you can’t concentrate on anything.

Your feet take you to the rose garden by reflex, but your brain doesn’t even register you’re there until you sit on the bench.

Today’s mission took a lot out of you, not just because of the amount of magic you had to use to get everyone out safely, but also because it was your fault the team was in so much danger in the first place.

You fucked up your task, Natasha had to step in and save your ass, moving away from her post and making her late for her own task and that derailed the entire mission.

At the end, you had to use your powers to take out the hundreds of Hydra agents at the same time, which is no small feat and made you almost pass out.

Everybody told you on the way home not to worry, the mission was successfully accomplished and everyone made it out safely, but you know that if it wasn’t for your screw up the team would’ve gotten in and out of base without so much as a scratch. 

Nobody had fatal injuries, thank God, but Sam got shot in the leg, Clint got stabbed and everyone else had various degrees of injuries because Hydra got the jump on the team.

Because of me.

That was all you kept thinking about. Your brain had a field day making up all kinds of scenarios where your mistake cost someone’s life, a few of them even had the entire team dying because of your stupidity. 

You were so caught up in your head that you didn’t even notice someone following you to the rose garden.

Not that you ever do. 

If there’s one thing Bucky Barnes knows how to do, is move around undetected. He’s a master assassin, he was trained for this for over 50 years, he knows how to be a shadow.

Except now he uses his skills for good during missions and, occasionally, to follow you.

Not in a creepy way, of course, just to check on you. At least that’s the excuse he always uses so he won’t have to admit to himself that what he does is, indeed, a little creepy.

But he can’t help himself, Bucky knew from the moment he saw you that he was fucked. 

The moment you walked into the room to meet the team his heart was yours. You stole it with one simple smile, with one look of your beautiful eyes.

You introduced yourself and shook hands with everyone, but when you looked at Bucky he felt like a light came on and it was just you two.

You shook his hand and he felt like he had to take it off and give it to you, it was yours now. His hand, his arm, his leg, his head, his heart, his soul. Everything he is was now yours, he just knew it.

Then you said his name and he could’ve died right there and then. It was the sweetest sound he’d ever heard, and it was barely two syllables. Every word you said, every laugh and sound that came out of your pretty mouth, Bucky felt like it was all for him. Nobody else mattered.

Bucky knew then he was in love.

But he didn’t know how to approach you. You were like a fairy, like a princess. Growing flowers, always smiling, baking, growing everyone’s favorite flowers and always willing to help, like growing Aloe when Wanda burned herself cooking, or Chamomile to help with Tony’s anxiety, or Valerian roots whenever someone was feeling down. 

You were like sunshine and he was terrified he’d kill your light. But he’d be damned if he’d let the world kill it either, he’d protect you with his life.

So he took to following you, making sure you were safe from a distance.

But it’s not like he never talked to you, the more time you spent with the team the more comfortable Bucky got around you and eventually you became friends.

Bucky knew you could take care of yourself, you were one of the strongest members of the team, but he didn’t like it when you were in your rose garden by yourself. The tall hedges made it impossible to see incoming danger, so he kept an eye on you just to be sure.

For his own piece of mind. And you never saw him.

That was Bucky’s actual way to unwind after a mission.

He’d tell everybody he was going for a ride on his bike, but he’d drive it through the woods around the compound and to the other side of the lake where he’d have a perfect view of you without you knowing. 

Deep down he knew it was a little creepy, he could just ask you if he could join you, but he felt like you needed your time alone without anyone else around, and he knew if he asked you, you’d say yes no matter what you were feeling, because that’s just the kind of person you are.

So Bucky watched you from afar, always careful not to be seen. He watched you write for hours, it relaxed him to see your beautiful face so concentrated.

Sometimes you’d laugh quietly at what you were writing and those were the only times Bucky was grateful for the supersoldier serum that allowed him to hear such a beautiful sound even with so much distance between you.

But it was torture for him when he knew you had a bad day. Sometimes you’d hug your knees and cry, Bucky could tell how much you’d need a hug, and it killed him that he couldn’t just walk up to you and hug you.

Everytime he sees you cry his heart breaks a little and he always tries to make you feel better when you walk back inside. He doesn’t ask you what’s wrong, he just tries to make you laugh. But all he wanted to do was dry your tears.

You did notice Bucky always seemed to act a little goofy when you're feeling down, like he somehow knew, but you never thought much of it.

You knew he was a very observant person, so you assumed he just saw your mood through your behavior better than most.

Bucky loves hanging out with you, even if it’s just as friends. You make fun of him like with everyone else, you don’t treat him like could explode at any moment, never walking on eggshells around him like most people do.

You’ve never been afraid of him, and he’s glad that you don’t treat him like glass. You treat him like everyone else, and it makes him feel normal.

Everytime time he hangs out with you, you take him back to a time where he was unbroken. You make him feel alive again.

And he falls more in love with you by the second because of it. You’re all he wants, he wants to have you and kiss your lips and never let anyone hurt you. That’s all he can think about, but he knows that’s not gonna happen.

He heard you talk to Natasha and Wanda, heard that there’s someone you’d gone on a few dates with. But Bucky knows that guy doesn’t deserve you, nobody does.

Even Bucky himself doesn’t deserve you, you’re too pure for anyone in this world, but if there’s someone that has any chance of making you happy, Bucky prays to God that that someone is him.

Bucky knows today’s mission shook you deeply. He knows you blame yourself, and no amount of reassurance will make you believe that everything is okay.

So today, for the first time, Bucky actually follows you. He can see your unfocused eyes even as you walk and he wants to be near you, just in case.

He almost walks to you when you curl up on the bench and start sobbing quietly, but he holds back not wanting to startle or upset you further.

He just listens to your soft cries until you stop and compose yourself. You sigh and get up, walking back to the Compound to take a much needed relaxing shower.

But you’re still so much in your own head that you don’t even notice you left your diary on the bench in the gazebo. 

Bucky did notice, though.

He’s tempted to call after you and tell you, but something deep down tells him not to. He waits until you’re gone and then walks to the bench, picking up your diary and opening it.

He doesn’t know why, he knows it’s wrong, these are your private thoughts, but he’s just drawn to it for some reason.

When he starts reading he notices you don’t mention any specific names, which makes sense because only you read it, you know who you’re writing about. He reads a page here and there, reading about your missions or lazy days. 

He reads about some memories with the team you wrote about, some he remembers and others he probably wasn’t there for, but seeing all these memories from your point of view does something to him.

It makes him feel connected to you, makes him feel like he’s reading your heart and soul, because he kind of is. Then he reads something that captures his attention completely. 

You write about eyes blue like the ocean and just as troubled, about a smile that could light up the world. You write about someone with a complicated past that never lost his spark, never lost his love for life. 

A man that went through hell, and never once took it out on the world. A man that didn’t ever blame the world, even when he had every right to, choosing instead to protect it. 

You filled pages and pages with everything you admire about this man, everything you love about him that you know he hates. 

And Bucky feels like every word you wrote, you wrote for him. But could this be him? Could he be the one you talk about in all your stories?

He wants to. He wants this to be him. He prays you’re talking about him. He wishes this could be him… Who is he kidding?

Of course it’s not me. 

It’s probably the guy you’ve been dating. Yeah, that’s it. You’re in love with that guy, that much is clear. 

Bucky gets to the page where you write about your dates with the guy, but he can’t read them.

He closes the diary, not knowing that you compared your date to Bucky every step of the way. Not knowing that you granted the guy a second date just to be sure he couldn’t compare to Bucky, and went on a third date at a coffee shop just to let him down gently.

Bucky didn’t read how you know he’s the one for you, he didn’t read his own name written in your handwriting, the only name in your whole diary because he’s the only person you never want to forget, even though you know you never will.

But Bucky didn’t read that.

He puts your diary back where it was on the bench and, with his heart broken and his hope that one day you could be his lost, he goes back inside and to his room.

It’s only when you go back to the rose garden after your shower that you notice you left your diary there, but don’t think much of it. Nobody ever comes here anyway, as far as you know.

After finding out you’re in love with someone else, Bucky can’t stop himself from acting differently towards you, which you don’t fail to notice.

It’s not like he’s mean, but your interactions get shorter, like he tries his best to end the conversation quickly.

He no longer sits close to you, no longer tries to make you laugh when you’re feeling down, doesn’t hang out with you as much during your down time and if he does, it’s never just the two of you anymore.

It’s silly to say, but you miss him.

Bucky knows he’s been distancing himself, he knows you’ve noticed and he can see it’s affecting you, but he’s doing this to protect himself.

He knows it’s only a matter of time before you present your boyfriend to the team, the man you’re in love with and he doesn’t want it to hurt more than necessary.

You decide not to push Bucky, knowing he has his reasons to pull away from you. Maybe he’s just trying to deal with all the stress the team’s been under and you don’t want to add any more to that, so you let him be.

A few weeks later the team’s on their sixth mission in just as many days and everyone is exhausted. You’ve been taking down Hydra base after Hydra base, because waiting too long meant losing your chance to shut down their operations for good before they got the opportunity to leave.

You’ve been dividing in smaller teams to take down the bases while still giving the team a chance to recuperate, but this last one was the biggest and required the whole team together, which sucked for you because you were in the last team with Steve and Bucky that took down a base just yesterday, so the three of you got barely a few hours of sleep while you flew to the last base.

You’ve cleared the base, all that’s left is the agents in the courtyard who are really going down fighting. The whole team is outside now, the Hydra agents giving you a hell of a fight. You’re using your magic against your better judgment, giant vines coming out of your arms like whips, covered in poisonous thorns. One touch of that and anyone would go down immediately, everyone except you.

Or at least that’s what you think.

As you’re fighting you can see an agent trying to sneak up on Bucky who’s fighting near you, so you quickly take care of it for him.

Bucky turns around and sees the agent down and then looks at you with that charming smile you fell in love with and winks at you. “Thank you, doll.”

That’s the friendliest Bucky’s been towards you in weeks and you can’t help but smile back with a small blush.

You can see the last agent standing coming at you from your peripheral vision and you quickly whip him with a vine, taking him down as soon as you can so you can turn back to look at Bucky, still smiling at you.

Bucky’s smile drops quickly, though, as he sees your face draining of any color. You barely have the time to register the sting of your own thorn on your arm that you’re already falling to the ground.

Bucky tries to catch you, but he gets thrown back by your magic that goes into defense mode, creating a wall of thorns to protect your now unconscious body.

The team doesn't know what to do, none of them know enough about plants to be sure that these thorns wouldn’t just kill them all.

The only one that would know that is you, the person that’s passed out, or worse, trapped in the midst of a cocoon of thorns.

“Okay, we need to find a safe way to-” Steve starts but cuts himself off almost immediately. “What are you doing?!”

Bucky doesn’t even turn around to answer, too intent on breaking the thorns around you with his metal arm, not caring that the thorns are ripping his clothes and scratching his face, all he can think about is getting to you.

He finally manages to get through to you, but nobody can follow because your magic regrows the thorns Bucky broke, trapping him with you inside the cocoon.

But Bucky doesn’t care, his eyes never leaving your face as he kneels behind you, running a finger softly along your cheek and shivering when he feels your skin is cold as ice.

His mind goes to the worst possibility, that there’s nothing he can do, but his brain gives him some hope reasoning that your magic wouldn’t be working if you were dead.

Right?

He snaps out of his thoughts when he feels the thorns around you vibrate, he takes you in his arms and shields you with his body from whatever is about to happen.

But the only thing that happens is the shade cast by the thorns gets replaced by sunlight. Bucky looks up and realizes Wanda used her magic to lift the thorn cocoon.

“You couldn’t have done that before?!” Bucky barks at Wanda with a glare while carefully picking you up to take you to the Quinjet.

“She’s not the dumbass that threw himself headfirst in a mess of thorns without even considering another course of action!” Natasha came in Wanda’s defense, though she seemed more amused at Bucky’s antics than annoyed.

As the team heads back home in the jet, Bruce examines you and lets the team know you’re still alive but in a sort of coma.

Their relief is cut short when Bruce makes it known that he has no idea when, or if, you’ll wake up.

As soon as the Quinjet lands you’re taken to the medbay and hooked up to machines, an IV in your arm to keep you hydrated.

Bucky holds your hand through it all, staying all night next to you just in case you wake up. He didn’t want you to be freaked out and alone, he wanted to be the first person to see your beautiful eyes open.

When morning comes, though, you’re still unconscious, but Bucky doesn’t lose hope. You probably need a good sleep.

That’s what he tells himself for two, three, four days.

That’s what he keeps telling himself for a week, two weeks. Never once leaving your side, not eating unless Steve brings him food and makes sure he eats before leaving, and using the bathroom of your room in the medbay.

He barely sleeps and, when he does, he dreams of you.

Everyone was getting worried about him, he refused to leave your side until one day Steve came into your room to tell Bucky there was something wrong with your rose garden.

Bucky was torn between staying with you and seeing what Steve was talking about, but decided that it would kill you if something happened to your roses so he had to make sure everything was okay when you woke up.

Because you’re going to wake up.

Bucky follows Steve to your rose garden, and his eyes widen in horror as soon as he sees it. The roses, the hedges, the vines.

Everything is dying.

Bucky’s heart breaks, only one thought in his mind. If your plants are dying, does that mean you’re slowly dying too?

No. That’s unacceptable. You’re not gonna die, not if Bucky has anything to do with it.

He takes it upon himself to take care of your garden, watering it and doing everything he can to keep the roses and vines alive, fooling himself into believing that this will keep you alive.

He stays on the gazebo day and night, sleeping on the bench, spending every waking moment trying to keep a hold of even the smallest part of you.

But it’s not enough. Nothing is enough.

Bucky loses track of how many days he’s been in your garden, sleeping maybe an hour at a time here and there, watering the roses every few hours and crying the rest of the time.

After all it’s his fault, if he hadn’t distracted you none of this would’ve happened. You’d be in your beautiful garden, probably with your boyfriend, and the only broken thing would be Bucky’s heart.

That he could’ve lived with. 

But how can he live with the knowledge that he caused your end? That he killed your light? That he killed his sunshine, his hope, the love of his life? He can’t live with that.

Not that he has to.

While Bucky’s spiraling while surrounded by dying roses, inside your room in the medbay you’re finally waking up after almost a month.

You open your eyes slowly, looking around you at the hospital-like room. There’s nobody around and, as you look at the window, you can see it’s really late at night.

You sit up and try to make sense of what happened while rubbing your eyes. The last thing you remember is Bucky’s bright smile, and then nothing.

You look down at your arm and see an IV, which you take out while frowning. How long have you been sleeping?

You carefully get off the bed and make your way outside to your rose garden, just to be sure everything’s okay. It’s not like anyone’s gonna stop you anyway.

When you get close, the moonlight shines on the hedges and you gasp at what you see. Your beautiful roses withering away, the gazebo made of vines dying too.

But the most confusing thing is the sobs coming from the bench, although no one’s sitting on it.

You get closer and see Bucky sitting in front of the bench while hugging his knees and crying softly. You frown and get a little closer before stopping, not wanting to startle him.

“Bucky…” You say quietly and his head snaps up, his eyes instantly meeting yours.

For a moment it feels like he’s trying to decide if you’re real, he reaches out and you extend your hand to take his. That seems to convince him and he gasps.

“Doll…” His voice is barely above a whisper, almost as if he thinks if he makes too much noise you’ll disappear.

“What’s wrong?” You ask him while getting a little closer to him, concern clear in your every feature.

It’s only when you get closer that you see his face full of cuts and you frown. Those are not just any scratches, it’s clear to you that they were made by thorns. “D-did… Did I do this to you?” 

You’re kneeling in front of him now, one hand still in his one the other comes up to trace the cuts in his face softly, but he takes your hand in his and kisses your palm.

“I’m okay…” He reassures you.

Just then he realizes, you’re fussing over him when you’re the one that’s been in a coma for a month. “Are you okay? How long have you been awake?” 

“I… I just woke up.” You tell him honestly, then look around at the dying roses and vines before looking back at him. “What happened to me?”

“You got stung by one of your poisonous thorns.” He says quietly, his thumbs rubbing circles on your skin while he refuses to let go of you. “You’ve been unconscious for almost a month.”

“A month?!” You’re shocked at the news, not knowing what to say or do, so you just stay there while letting the information sink in. The silence is broken by Bucky after a minute.

“I’m sorry about your roses… I tried to keep them alive, but…” He looks around with a hopeless expression. “I failed you.”

Your heart breaks a little. Does he really think he failed you?

You take a deep breath, then close your eyes and when you open them again a second later everything’s back to normal. The roses are as beautiful as ever, the gazebo just as majestic. It’s like nothing ever happened.

Bucky looks around in awe when he feels you take his chin and you make him look at you.

“You could never fail me.” You say firmly, wanting him to understand you mean it. You look at the cuts around his face and you can’t help the guilt and pain that you feel deep within you. “I’m sorry…”

“It wasn’t your fault.” It’s like Bucky can read your thoughts, he knows all you can see are your faults, and he wants you to know he doesn’t blame you for anything. “You weren’t even conscious. You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“I never wanted to be one of the people that hurt you…” Your voice is a whisper as a tear escapes you. “The world hurt you so much already… I never wanted to be part of that. You don’t deserve it.”

Bucky frowns. He feels like he’s heard those words, but where? No, he didn’t hear them. He read them. He read them in your diary, where you wrote about the man you’re in love with. Could it be possible?

Could I be him?

“It’s me…” He says lower than a whisper, his eyes locked on yours, and it’s your time to be confused now.

“What?” You ask him with a frown while wiping your cheeks.

“It’s me you’re in love with.” His voice is a little louder, but firm. He’s not asking you, he’s making a statement.

Your eyes widen in surprise, you almost take your hands away from his but his hold prevents you from doing that.

“I-I… What?” Is all you can bring yourself to say, confused as to why he’s so sure of it. Are you really that transparent?

“I read your diary…” Bucky says, guilt written all over his face, but at least he’s owning up to it. “You wrote about the man you love… and you wrote the same thing you just told me. It’s me, isn’t it? You love me back?” His voice is more hopeful now, his confident demeanor weavering.

“You… You read my diary?” You say, your mind still playing catch up.

It’s only a moment later that you register the ‘love me back’ and you don’t give him a chance to apologize or justify himself before you’re speaking again. “You love me?!” 

Bucky hesitates a moment but nods firmly. “I love you, doll. I’ve loved you since the moment I met you.” 

You feel like someone punched you and all the air has left your body. You have no idea what to say, so you don’t say anything.

Instead you lean in and kiss him.

Bucky wastes no time kissing you back, but a thought pops into his mind and he reluctantly pulls back. “What about your boyfriend?”

“Boyfriend?” You frown again, having no idea what he’s talking about. “I don’t have a boyfriend.”

“You don’t?” Bucky feels like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders and he pulls you to straddle him. “What about the guy you went on a few dates with?”

You narrow your eyes at him but decide to table the conversation about how he knows that for another time, so you smile at him and decide to just be honest with him.

“Do you honestly think that anyone could ever measure up to you? Because if you do, you’re an idiot.” Bucky grins and kisses you again. 

Maybe he is an idiot. But when he’s the idiot you’re in love with, how much of an idiot can he really be?

It looks like he can be him after all.

[fluffyprettykitty]

Heat

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

Word Count: ~900 words

Outline: Sam is not at all happy with you randomly sending him nudes.

Warnings: teasing, swearing, dom/sub dynamic, daddy kink, furniture humping, brat taming, cockwarming, use of sex toys (butt plug), degradation kink.

Author’s Note: This came to my head, so I had to write it down before I slept lmao. Enjoy!

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

Main Masterlist ・❥・ Sam Wilson Masterlist

NSFW UNDERNEATH THE CUT. MINORS DNI.

"I need you…" you whine, arching your back. 

"No." He points a finger shaking it. "If you needed me you'd stick to the rules. But you didn't so now Daddy is not gonna touch your sweet little cunt for all the weekend. Don’t ever disrespect me again. " 

"But daddy!" You whine, rolling your hips against the armchair. "I am making a mess…it will be a shame for all this juice to go to waste…"

"And I am gonna take a shower. Have fun." You whine watching your tall and broad boyfriend leave the room and decide to make your moans knowing he can hear you. 

Quickly, he disregards his clothes. He turns on the showerhead and gets inside paying no mind to your actions. Sam had a strict set of rules and he never bent them for you. Why would today be any different? Well, it never hurt to try a little. 

You really hoped that watching you completely naked riding the fuck out of his armchair would shock him and have him rail you in no time. God knows how much you need it. You even sent him naughty and lewd pictures while doing so and even a short video. Yet he came home from the supermarket and immediately started sorting out the groceries telling you Daddy's busy and is not the right time for some fooling around. Didn’t even pay attention to you for more than five seconds. 

You decide to get up and follow him to the shower but you open the door just as he steps out. He was fast and efficient in anything but sex play. 

"I said no." He looks at you with a strict look on his face, grabbing his towel. 

"But daddy…" 

"No buts. You know the rules, you know I like my respect, you know I like clear rules and settings, and yet.” He stops, only to sigh for a brief moment and shake his head.” You sent me nudes like that when I was outside in an open space with my own sister. You don't do that. " 

You shift your weight wrapping your arms around you and pouting. Well, you hoped that he’d decide to hurry up and come home but you can’t really say that now, don’t you? But you can always become naughtier. 

"Would it have been better if I had put in a butt plug?" You ask, your voice innocent. You can tell that gets a reaction from him. He shoots daggers at you through the mirror while he is applying his face cream. 

"You'd still be punished." He doesn’t break eye contact through the mirror. “Pictures and worse videos are not allowed in public settings. You preparing yourself for me is but only after you have specifically asked me first. You know this.” 

"Why? It would have made me halfway ready for you. And oh the stretching would have been so nice. God knows how much I need my stretching you know how tight everything is. You can barely fit in all the way in. Maybe I could be sitting on the couch on all fours waiting for you to replace it with your cock. That would have been fun." 

Sam turns around to look at you and you know by the tent that's forming under his bath towel you are turning him on. 

"Maybe, but you didn't. " He points out, his voice dropping low. " How about you use that little butt plug now and go and make daddy dinner naked as the light of the day so I can see the little dazzling jewel? And then maybe I will even let you warm my cock while I eat my meal." 

Well, he could always one up you. 

You don't even reply to him as you quickly exit the bathroom running to the bedroom to find the plug. You know he is chuckling even if you can't hear him and you position yourself down. Using some lube on the plug and your fingers, you begin to lube yourself while he is now walking inside the bedroom. 

"Always such a whore. " 

You think about protesting or interjecting but you have well proven today that you are one so you continue like this, breathing steadily, pushing inside the metallic toy. No doubt he is looking at you even if you can hear fumble around the closet so you put on a little show, one finger, one bit of the plug until is all inside, and all the while you are putting on the moaning show of your life. 

“Not bad.” Sam chuckles and smacks your asscheek and then the plug makes you squirm. 

“Daddy’s hungry, come on. Fix him a meal.”

Your legs are a little bit wobbly as the horniness has gotten to your head and is hard for you to concentrate. You think that the easiest you could make right now is pasta so you try to focus on that and yet…

“Not pasta though, I would like some shrimps…maybe risotto.” 

“Anything for daddy.”

An hour later, you were still naked sitting on his lap, his cock inside your pussy while he teasingly twisted the plug around after each bite of the meal. You could wonder how much he could torture you like this but any thoughts had long exited your head…

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