i need me some one night stand Sam smut, maybe they met at a bar or mutual friend’s wedding/any event. whatever your little heart desires i just know that it’s gonna be amazing especially with Sam’s nasty behind. ily 🩷
A/N: I know I keep apologizing, but I am SOOO SORRY! I did not intend for this to take so long. I know you said it's cool, but I can't help it. Thank you for being so patient with me. ILY, ILY!
Feel Like I Do
Pairing: Sam Wilson x Black!Fem!reader / Plus Size reader
Warnings: 18+. Minors DNI. You are in charge of your own reading experience. Some sentences are intentional AAVE. SMUT. Cursing, PIV, oral (female and male receiving), teasing, use of pet names, mentions of birth control, size kink, praise kink, one night stand smut.
Summary: See Ask. While out at a club for your friend's birthday, you bump into Sam. He's sweet, charming, and there's something achingly familiar about him. You go home with him, needing to see where this goes.
Word Count: 5,505k
A/N: When an ask kicks my ass, it kicks my ass!!!! However, once it finally came together, it flowed so beautifully. Thank you @planetblaque for helping me! ILY. This is based off of one my fave songs. Likes are always awesome. Please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! I love hearing your thoughts! I block ageless blogs.
Taglist: @multiversefanfics @chaos-4baby @leahnicole1219 @capswife @anghstybean @targaryenvampireslayer @sheabutterbabes @browngirldominion @theunsweetenedtruth @thecookiebratz @we-outsiiiide @iv0rysoap @nerdieforpedro
The cover band was too loud. You grimaced as you made your way past the press of bodies towards the bar. You could barely hear the singer and the instruments sounded disharmonious on top of it. You hated nights like these. Why couldn’t your friend’s birthday fall during the week?
This was your favorite club but you mostly went during the week when you could sit back and relax. There were less people, less lecherous men, and you could actually hear who was playing. It was a great spot to discover new and local talent.
You shoved past a guy leaning in some poor girl’s face. You dug your elbow into his side hard enough for him to turn around. The girl he was speaking with gave you a grateful smile while she took off, disappearing into the crowd.
You waved innocently to the man. There was a small opening at the bar that you made a beeline for. As soon as you reached it, you lifted a hand to get the bartender’s attention. At the same time, a man bumped into you and raised his own hand.
“Hey!” You said.
The man looked at you and you gasped. He was so cute. Smooth chestnut skin, a neat goatee, and high cheekbones. He wore a simple outfit with dark jeans and a carmine T-shirt but he wore it extremely well. The shirt bunched around his upper arms, bulging under his massive muscles.
“I’m so sorry! I didn’t see you! Please, go ahead,” he said. He waved for you to go ahead.
“Thanks. You’re not a regular here ,” you said.
The man shook his head. “Trying to cheer up my friend,” he said. He pointed to a section of the club where the booths were. There were two men sitting there. One with blond hair and looked like he bench pressed entire trucks for a living. The other had darker, longer hair and was whispering something to him.
“Girl troubles?” You asked.
“Always is. I’m Sam,” he said. He held out his hand. You shook his hand and introduced yourself. It was warm and big, strong in a way most men these days weren’t. You reluctantly dropped his hand, wondering what the hell was wrong with you. You just met the man and there was no reason to feel so..connected to him already. As if you knew him.
“What brings you to this madhouse tonight?” Sam asked. You both waved for the bartender’s attention, but he was too busy at the other end of the bar. It’d be a while before he made his way down this way. The other bartender was too preoccupied by a group of guys on the opposite end. Fuck, you just wanted a damn drink.
“Birthday for my friend,” you said. You pointed to your friends in a different booth. They were currently whooping, yelling and throwing their hands up while they danced. They looked like they were having fun. It was the goal and you were happy.
“Ah, so they send the errand people to grab their drinks, huh?” Sam asked.
“Seems like. But we’re good friends, so we’ll grin and bear it,” you said.
Sam nodded. “Since we’re gonna be here a while, you mentioned that I wasn’t a regular here. Does that mean you are?”
It was your turn to nod. You leaned on the bar and faced him better. There were too many people crowding on either side, screaming for the two bartenders behind the bar. They pressed against you until you were flush against Sam. To his credit, he did his best to get away and give you some room.
“Guess we’re getting personal tonight. How ‘bout your next drink is on me as an apology?” He asked.
Something about him was so disarming. It was unnerving. Your natural defenses were useless against him. Usually you were trying to get out of there as fast as you could. Picking up women in bars always seemed so cheesy to you. Full of bad pick up lines and beer goggles.
Sam seemed as sober as a judge. And he smelled divine. Something earthy. Something that reminded you of taking hikes in the forest, faint mist in the air, and the sound of a small waterfall nearby.
You hadn’t had much to drink but being near him was like you were buzzed. Like time was hazy and the only plane of existence was inside the club. You swayed a bit towards him. Drawn to his gravitational pull.
“I’d like that, but no apology needed.” You smiled at him, suddenly at a loss of what to do or say. Your body was becoming electrified. The sounds in the place receded to the background as your attention narrowed to Sam.
“No apology needed, but how about an answer to my question in exchange? Is it strange that I feel like we know each other?”
You grinned. Good, it wasn’t just you. You shook your head. “Right? Like what is that?”
Sam ran through places that you might have in common. Like grocery stores, no. Or gyms, hell no. He ran around nearabout the Washington monument every day in the wee hours of the morning.
“If I’m up before the sun is up, shoot me,” you said.
He laughed, throwing his head back and closing his eyes. He had a good laugh. One that you wanted to hear over and over.
“Not a morning person, huh?” He asked.
“Not even a little bit.” You were quite the terror in the morning when you woke up. As if the day owed you a personal favor for getting up on time. You had no time for morning chats or chores or anything that required brain activity until your first cup of coffee. Even then, it was hit or miss on how your mood would progress until the sun was higher in the sky and you didn’t feel like crawling back into bed.
You abandoned the drinks and simply talked to Sam. You learned more about him, about his time spent in the military and that he was a counselor now. You told him about your soul-sucking job and how you came here often to listen to local bands.
He had a great voice that melted like butter around everything he said. And the way he told a story made you feel like you were really there.
Every now and then, you would get bumped into and in turn, bump into him. Every push against his body was its own hit of dopamine. Every time he steadied you, his hands wrapped around your forearms, turned your brain to mush. Every time he smiled, you wanted to grab him and never let go.
“We still haven’t gotten any drinks,” he said.
You chuckled as you realized that you were probably talking to him for the last thirty minutes. In your own bubble, getting to know one another.
You looked towards your friends. They were still dancing but were now on their phones. You pulled yours out to see the dozens of missed texts. The threats to call the police started. You texted them back to know that you were still alive and not kidnapped. You showed Sam and he laughed.
“We’re pretty bad friends,” he said. He looked towards his own. The situation looked a bit better. Maybe the dark-haired one was able to cheer up the blonde.
“So bad! What are they gonna do with us?” You asked.
“Well, I still haven’t gotten you that drink but it doesn't look like we’re having much luck at the bar. I can’t let you leave without making it up to you,” he said.
You grinned and looked towards the dance floor. The cover band had mercifully stopped and now the DJ was spinning records you could actually dance to. You turned your attention back to Sam. “How about a dance?”
He looked towards the crowded dance floor and then turned back to you with a chuckle. “Think you can keep up?”
You giggled and stepped away from the bar. You glided your hand across his chest and he looked down to follow the movement. “Can you?” You asked.
Sam smirked. He grabbed your hand and led you to the dance floor. The bottom of the floor was illuminated with squares of color. Neon blues, reds, and purples danced over you as you stepped onto the floor.
You started bobbing your shoulders and getting into the rhythm. Sam followed your lead, getting closer and shaking his hips. His hands coasted along your exposed arms in your black tank top, pulling you closer and closer. You grinned at him.
The song changed to a funky, techno type hip-hop song. It made everyone scream with joy. You popped your booty more to match the quick beat and Sam turned you around. He grabbed the belt loops of your jeans and pulled you closer into his body roughly, your back to his chest.
You twerked on him, rubbing and grinding your booty into his crotch. If you weren’t mistaken, he was definitely happy about that. He already seemed so thick and heavy behind his jeans but he had given no indication that his mind went there.
He dropped his head closer to your shoulder, his breath fanned across your damp neck. Sweat pooled along the slopes of your body. He switched up the way you were dancing on him, controlling your movements to the way he liked and you were powerless to do anything but go along with it.
You slid your hand along the back of his neck and cupped his head. He moaned in your ear as you continued this dance, rocking with each other like you wanted to devour each other whole.
You thought that feeling like you were the only two people in the room was a joke. Experiencing it with Sam was surreal as no one else mattered. No one else existed.
He moved his hands from the belt loops to grab your hips. His fingers rode up your shirt a fraction so that he could play with your skin where your jeans stopped. Just that tiny bit of friction, his calloused fingers rubbing along your smooth skin, made your panties even more soaked than what they already were.
You were in tune with this man. You felt him on a cellular level. Every breath of his tugged at your cells. Every sound he made tickled your veins. Everytime he ground his hips into you, to let you know nonverbally that he was feeling you, was like a twitch in your muscles.
Your bodies moved in sync. Neither one of you could keep your hands from roaming. Seeking. A compulsion for more and more. There was no end in sight. No limit for this need driving you. A need to feel him, all of him.
Sam kissed your neck, licked right over the pounding vein in your neck and you dropped your head back against his shoulder. This felt too right. Too overwhelmingly good that you wanted to freeze this moment. To exist in limbo with him.
His thumbs pressed into your lower back and you moaned. Sam continued kissing up your neck until you turned your head. Your lips pressed together, a mini explosion all its own that rocked you to your core.
His lips were warm, inviting. His breath was minty with a subtle hint of beer. He kissed as well as he danced. Perhaps better.
“Come back to my place,” he said against your lips and then dived in for another scorching kiss.
“Yes,” you answered, though he hadn’t phrased it like a question. God, you wanted to see where this could go. It was soul crushing to part for even a minute. You didn’t know him. But you felt like you did. Like you had known him your entire life.
He stopped dancing and took your hand from his head. He pulled you off of the dance floor. “Meet me outside and then follow me to my place.”
You nodded. You departed, holding onto each other until you’d either have to let go or risk injury. You watched each other until the crowd obscured him. You took a deep breath, returning to reality for half a second.
You poked your way through the crowd, reaching your friends at the booth.
“Who the hell was that?” Your friend, Alana, said and waved a napkin in front of her face. The birthday girl, Cece, nodded her head.
“Shit, I feel like I need a damn cigarette,” she said.
You waved them off. Your insides were jelly, a giddy nervousness that wouldn’t quit. “Will you hate me for dipping?”
“One of us needs to get laid. Go ‘head girl,” Cece said and hi-fived you.
“I love you, I love you,” you said. You hugged them both and made them promise to look out for each other.
“I’ll accept my name as the middle name for the baby ya’ll finna make!” Cece yelled and you smacked her arm.
“Nasty ass!” You waved goodbye and headed to the parking lot. You kept expecting for that feeling to disappear. That desperate neediness in your veins to return to Sam and never leave his side. But it never did.
It increased tenfold when you reached outside. The cool air fell over your sweaty skin like stepping into a freezer. It should have woken up your senses. You didn’t “do” one night stands. You didn’t randomly go with strangers and have sex.
However, seeing Sam standing by his car made you want to jump his bones even more. He saw you approach and he smiled.
“You can change your mind if you want to,” he said.
“I don’t want to,” You said and smiled.
He told you to follow him. Your eyes cataloged everything about him. The way he moved, the way he talked. The way he stood there and radiated peace and calmness like walking melatonin.
You climbed into your car and followed Sam. He didn’t live far. He lived out in a bunch of townhomes, neat and tidy in their uniform rows. You supposed that to a military person, this would feel like home.
Sam parked first and you parked in front of his place. He got out of the car and so did you. You made your way to him. Nerves prevented you from speaking but there was a comfortable familiarity with him that didn’t require words from either of you.
He grabbed your hand and led you into his house. It was tastefully decorated and most importantly - clean. There were too many grown men comfortable with living in absolute filth and had the nerve to think women were just supposed to excuse it away.
Sam turned on a few lights, enough to see by. After locking the door and throwing his keys on the table beside it, he faced you.
He slowly approached, his eyes raking over your body. You felt it like a physical caress. His face showed nothing but appreciation and desire. He liked what he saw. And damn, did you like what you were seeing as well. He moved like a large cat, like a lion lazily stretching its muscles.
He stepped to you and then tilted your head up by your chin. He grinned and then closed his eyes, kissing you softly. Reverently. Like it was a long-lost reunion after decades apart. You felt like you would float away at any moment.
He deepened the kiss. He grabbed both sides of your face, pulling you closer as if he couldn’t get enough. Your hands finally grabbed his thick arms, rubbing his shoulders and hanging on. He moaned low in his throat, continuing to be content with just kissing you. Tasting you.
“Upstairs? I’m assuming?” You asked.
“Beauty first,” he said. He let you go so you could turn around and head towards the stairs. You passed by pictures of him growing up. Two parents and what looked like a sister. There were more pictures of the sister with kids. Pictures of Sam with his unit.
Sam placed his hands on your hips and escorted you to his room. He turned on a lamp and the light was a little harsh but still intimate. The walls were painted a deep, soothing blue. His sheets matched the walls and he had blinds on the window.
He wasn’t much for useless junk. Everything had its place and section. He’d have a fit if he saw your place. It was clean, but you definitely tended to cherish trinkets, gadgets, or souvenirs. Proof of life. Of love. Of friendships and relaxing trips.
You faced him with a smile. There was no rush here. Nothing to indicate that he was trying to pressure you in any way. You grinned wider and reached for your shirt, throwing it on the floor.
Sam’s eyes widened, taking in your peek-a-boo turquoise bra. He licked his lips. Feeling emboldened by his obvious desire, you stripped out of your shoes and jeans, kicking them off to the side.
“I show you mine…” you sang. You grinned and sidled up next to him, reaching for his shirt. He helped you pull it off of him. Fuck, he was gorgeous. He was all smooth skin and muscle. Stack on top of stack. He took his physical health seriously. Your hands rubbed all over every inch you could reach.
Sam’s heavy breathing filled the room as you touched him. You stared into his eyes and leaned down to place a kiss over one of his pecs. He grinned. “Like what you see?”
“You know damn well how fine you are,” you said.
“Don’t mean I don’t wanna hear it,” he said.
“You are so fucking hot,” you said. You might have drooled. Didn’t care.
Sam chuckled as he finally shed his own boots and jeans, revealing black briefs and an impressive bulge. You reached for it, ready to feel that too but he grabbed your wrists before you made contact. You pouted at him.
“I was raised to be a gentleman. So get your sexy, gorgeous ass on that bed and spread them pretty legs for me,” he said.
Shivers wrecked you. There was no breeze in the house to blame it on. No whir of the A/C to excuse it away. His words alone had you rubbing your thighs together and grinning.
You backed up into the bed, holding his gaze. He licked his lips while you sat down and then scooted onto the bed. He stalked closer so that he could maintain that shared look as you laid down and got comfortable on his plush mattress.
Sam tilted his head at you. You rolled your eyes and spread your legs like he asked you to. He made a pleased sound that you felt down to your toes.
He reached out and rubbed your thighs and legs, getting you used to his touch. He hooked his rough fingers around your matching panties and tugged them down. He whistled softly as he got a peek at your glistening center.
“So fucking gorgeous,” he said. He looked up at you. As he descended down with a kiss to your tummy, he asked, “Can I taste it?”
“Yes,” you breathed out. Your breathing turned choppy.
He placed kisses along your lower tummy, not touching your pussy at all. His hands remained locked around your thighs, holding them open. He started to move down, kissing along your thighs. He stopped when he reached your inner thigh.
“Can I play with it?”
“Fuck yes,” you moaned.
His fingers massaged your thighs, digging deep and finding knots you didn’t know existed. You moaned, unable to stop yourself from squirming under his methodical hands. His thumbs traced patterns as he massaged you, tracing small circles into your skin. He kept his hands moving, gripping and learning you. His thumbs caressed the inside juncture of your legs, where your thighs met your pelvis.
“Oue, shit,” you moaned.
Sam chuckled and brushed his goatee against your skin. His face was smooth earlier but there were the beginnings of prickly stubble that rubbed along your thighs. You were unused to this type of teasing. Where it felt like your skin would melt off if he didn’t do something soon.
He placed lazy kisses to your inner thighs, making each area tingle. You felt phantom kisses all over and you continued to squirm.
“Calm down, relax,” he said against your skin.
“How can I? You’re driving me insane,” you said.
“Insane? Good. I wanna drive you to total and complete madness,” he said.
Fuck.
He kept placing these kisses along your skin and your body twisted and bowed off of the bed the closer he approached your pussy. You were probably already leaving a nice little puddle on his covers already.
“Sam, please,” you sighed. His fingers felt heavenly but you wanted more. You wanted to feel him.
“I’m sensing some impatience,” he said.
“Hella impatience,” you said.
Sam chuckled. You thought he’d say something else. You thought you’d get a warning and brace for whatever it was that he did next. But when his tongue flattened against your pussy, you leaned off of the bed with a long moan.
Your hands flew to his head, clutching him to you. He waited with his tongue against your pussy as you panted, twisted, and turned on the bed. That small act felt like a lightning strike. Sam kept your legs open waiting for you to calm down.
You took quick, choppy breaths trying to calm yourself down. This was so fucking embarrassing. You should not be this overly excited when he hasn't even done anything yet.
You planted your ass on the bed and then Sam groaned, licking up run away arousal. “Fuck, you taste so good. So sweet,” he said.
Your laugh was breathy. “It’s uh, been a while,” you said.
“That’s okay. Me too,” he said.
“Is this where I find out something’s wrong with you to scare off women?” You asked.
Sam laughed, kissing your thigh and leaving a wet mark behind. “I can only say that I just haven’t found the right woman yet.”
You were going to say something else but then he started licking in earnest. As if you were his own personal ice cream cone. He moaned more, settling further onto the bed. Then he really dug in.
You scratched his scalp as he ate you out. You couldn’t stop gyrating and grinding your hips into his mouth. He moaned and sucked and licked until your legs were shaking and you were screaming out your orgasm. Screaming at the ceiling and any neighbors nearby.
“Oh fuck!” You shook and twitched. As you came down, you leaned up. But Sam gave you a wink and dived back down, licking you again and teasing your entrance with his tongue.
“Sam?” You asked, but ended on a moan. Your clit was sensitive and you twitched with every pass.
“I ain’t done yet,” he moaned into your pussy.
You made a garbled, panicked sound. The hell did he mean he wasn’t done? He continued to lick and suck, wet smacking noises bouncing off of the walls. Your moans mixed with his. Both of you totally dedicated to the giving and receiving of oral pleasure.
Your tummy tightened, contracted, pulling another orgasm out of you. “Oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god,” you chanted, unable to control your body or thoughts. You were out of your mind with pleasure.
Your lungs burned since you couldn’t draw in enough air to properly breathe. You felt dizzy and disoriented. “Oh fuck,” you said.
Sam leaned back and smacked his lips. You barely managed to look down at him over your belly. His lower jaw was drowning in your juices. He gave you a wink and kissed your thigh. “Okay?” He asked.
You nodded, too far gone to speak.
“Good, I still ain’t done,” he panted. He took a deep breath and latched right back onto your clit.
“Shit!” You yelled, trying to scoot away from him. Those muscles were not just for show. He pinned your legs to the bed, opening you up further. He held you in place as he returned to devouring his meal, heedless to your desperate pleas and cries.
“Sam, Sam, Sam,” you said as you tapped on his head.
He lifted his head. “You okay?”
“T-too much,” you said.
“Aww, need a break?” He asked.
You nodded, tears swimming to your eyes. “I’m still hungry. Give me one more,” he said.
“What!” He returned to your pussy, licking all around your clit and making your eyes roll back in your head. You were unused to this much pleasure, this much bliss. Before long, another orgasm was steamrolling over you and robbing you of breath.
True to his word, he stopped and kissed up your thighs and rubbed his wet beard into your skin. He nibbled on your tummy. You felt all of this distantly, knowing he was doing it but what was one more sensation as you calmed down from your orgasm? Your nerves were on fire. Singed right down to the atom.
Sam rubbed your stomach. You closed your eyes and snuggled into the feeling. Of the tranquility you felt by his side.
“You are so mean,” you said.
Sam chuckled. He leaned over and started kissing your cheek and jaw. You faintly smelled yourself on him and it made you want to lick his face. His lips moved lower to whisper in your ear. “You should’ve warned me that you taste so damn good. I could spend all night in between your legs. Tasting that pretty pussy,” he said.
“Fuck. Sam,” you said. You turned your head to look into his pussy drunk eyes.
He grinned. He brought his hand up to caress your cheek. “You’re really gorgeous.”
“You’re gonna kill me,” you said.
He laughed. “I hope not. I feel like I’d miss you too much even though we just met,” he said.
You were completely limp as a noodle. You were relaxed and lethargic, incapable of doing anything more than concentrating on your breathing. However, you were a lady.
You got to your elbows and then reached for his briefs. You cupped him, running your hands over the material. Even though the color was black, there were obvious wet spots there. Sam groaned, rolling his eyes back.
He nudged his face against you, seeking your lips without opening his eyes. You obliged, kissing him and tasting yourself on his tongue. It was a heady thing.
You did the same thing he did to you. You kissed along the corners of his mouth, his jaw, his neck, and his beautiful chest. You moaned your appreciation for his body as you climbed down his body, grabbing his briefs and tugging them down.
His dick sprang free. Slightly curved and smooth, the tip leaked with precum. You licked your lips and settled onto the side of him so you could take him in your mouth.
“Fuck, me,” he groaned.
You worked his shaft into your mouth, coating it with your saliva. As you did, you bobbed your head up and down sucking him all the way to the back of your throat. His groans spurned you on to go faster, further, wanting to hand deliver the same pleasure he did for you.
His hips started to jerk the faster you sucked him down until he was pushing at your shoulders to get up. You wiped your mouth and looked at him quizzically.
“I want to cum while I’m inside you,” he said. He gave you a dark, feral look that made your pussy throb. How was it that he was so damn gorgeous and generous on top of it? It was like you found a unicorn. Or a man built for your pleasure.
You grinned. “I’m on the pill,” you said.
He closed his eyes briefly and took a few deep breaths. “Don’t tell me that,” he said.
You kissed his thick, powerful thighs and rubbed your cheek against his legs. The tiny hairs there tickled your face but you looked up at him. “I’m on the pill,” you said again.
He groaned and then got to his knees on the bed. He kissed you, his big beautiful lips slanting against yours. He was a nasty kisser. Tongues dueling against each other, lips smacking, moaning and groaning into each other’s mouths.
He pulled you onto your knees until he positioned you on your back. He fell over you and settled in between your legs, rubbing his large dick against your inner thigh. He humped you, grinding his dick against your clit.
“Please, please, please,” you chanted.
“Are you sure?” He asked.
“Hell yes, please Sam. Please, I need to feel you,” you said.
Sam grinned and went back to kissing you. He used one hand to guide himself inside you and you shared a loud groan. He was large. Stretching you to your limit.
“Fuck!” You yelled.
Sam kissed you and waited as you adjusted to his length. He slowly worked himself inside until he was able to glide more easily, aided by your essence. Once he was down to the hilt, he paused and looked into your eyes.
“Feel so fuckin’ good,” he said. He kissed you again, sweeter this time.
Slowly, he began moving. He groaned and sped up as if he couldn’t help himself. As if every slide inside of you was like climbing the staircase to heaven. Before long he was pounding inside of you, pounding you into the bed while still kissing you.
You would never get enough of kissing him. Your heart felt like it was ready to burst. He was so damn sweet and caring while being absolutely fucking nasty. You had never had sex like this. Sex that completely enveloped every inch of you and lit you on fire. Sex that made you feel seen and heard and like your pleasure came first.
He was driving your ass into the bed with the force of his thrusts. “Fuck, Sam! Fuck, Sam!” You gripped onto his forearms, nails digging into his skin.
“Hm, give me another one. Another one, beautiful,” he said.
As if your pussy responded to the command, you were squeezing him as you were cumming. You shouted, loudly, your body curling in on itself as the orgasm rolled through you and over you.
“Shit,” Sam whispered against your lips as he came. His hips were still moving to the pace he set, the momentum causing him to fuck his cum into you deeper and deeper. His dick pulsed inside, filling you completely.
“OH, fuck!” You shouted.
Sam dropped against you and you both caught your breath. He was deliciously sweaty, and all masculine energy as he laid on top of you. He leaned to one side to try and lessen his weight but you clutched his shoulders, hugging him.
“Stay, for a moment,” you said. He was the perfect size and weight to act as a weighted blanket. He laughed as he placed his weight back on top of you.
“You’re cute. And funny,” he said, nudging his goatee against your cheek.
“You’re cute and funny,” you echoed. Even after everything you shared, you were hungry for more. He seemed to have the same thought. He couldn’t stop rubbing against you. You welcomed it, not willing to leave him just yet.
He softened inside of you and then slowly pulled out. You were sad to miss the feel of him on top of you. He pecked your lips and disappeared into an adjacent bathroom. You heard the water running and then he was returning.
He placed a warm washcloth to your pussy and gently cleaned you up. He grinned as you made incoherent noises. He finished and returned the washcloth to the bathroom.
“Will you agree to stay ‘till the morning? I make a mean pancake,” he said.
“Mean, you say?” You asked. You stretched out like a fat cat, working out little kinks and tweaks from vigorous sex.
“Mean as hell. Probably got sent to jail a few times over it,” he said.
You laughed at his corny joke. He sat on the bed and waited for your answer. You smiled. “I suppose I have to see if you can back up this claim,” you said.
“Oh, I can definitely back it up,” he said.
“Oh, definitely. Someone is definitely cocky,” you said.
Sam chuckled as he helped you sit up so that he could pull the covers off of the bed. He grabbed another one from a closet in the hallway and then draped it over you. He climbed into the bed and snuggled up next to you on his side.
You talked, giggled, and kissed until the wee hours of the morning. You hated to admit it, but the pancakes were definitely mean and slamming.
Whew! Did you know I have a Sam series? Find more Sam here: The Secret Sam Wilson Files
84 notes
·
View notes
SAM WILSON | CAPTAIN AMERICA/FALCON (the mcu | tfatws | captain america: the winter soldier)
────────────────────
────────────────────
“Arm Day” (Sam Wilson x Fem!Reader)
| You don’t show up for your running “date” with Sam so he shows up at your place to get a different kind of exercise in.
| SFW, exercising, romantic tension(?)
| Jesus, my summary is very nearly an innuendo. (Pic Source — Captain America: Civil War [peachy-ash icon], Captain America: The Winter Soldier [iconpsds icon], The Falcon & The Winter Soldier [marina-na-na icon])
| Inspo: Instagram
| 1k+ words
It’s the sound of your phone buzzing against your nightstand that wakes you up, and with a groan you lift your head to squint at it.
‘Sam Wilson’ flashes across your screen and you in no way can suppress the eye roll that elicits.
He was your gym buddy more often than not, but this was getting ridiculous.
When y’all ran laps together he’d slow down for you so you could keep one another company. When you were on the treadmill he’d be running in the one right beside you and hold out his arm if you stumbled so you wouldn’t go flying, emergency stopping the machine for you. You would spot each other, go out to eat afterwards, even make meal plans together. Sam was your number one.
He was also more of a pain in your ass than your actual personal trainers had ever been in the past.
You grope around for the phone, lifting it up to your ear once your clumsy fingers stumble across it.
“Yeah?”
Your grunt is met with an honest to god laugh. At this early in the morning?
“Oh my god,” you whine. “Sam, please, what do you want?”
A scoff this time.
“Y/N, it’s Saturday. Get your ass up, we got places to be.”
Still laying on your stomach you flip your head over to press the other side of your face into your pillow and switch your phone to the other ear accordingly, eyes slipping back closed.
“We? I told you I’m not leaving my house today.”
A beat of silence and then: “Okay…”
“Awesome. Have fun sweating by-”
“I’ll see you in five.”
You choke on your spit, words coming out in a whoosh and eyes snapping open.
“Fuck no! Sam!”
The sound of the dial tone reaches your ears and you curse, shooting out of bed, sleep no longer an option.
You drop your phone on your sheets and then scramble around for some shorts. If you could get to Sam before he got all the way to your apartment maybe you’d be able to shove his overactive ass back in his car.
In a frenzy you stuff your phone in your pocket and start towards the front door scratching at your head when it hits you. You’re scratching at your bare head.
“Shit- where in the world…?”
You whip around and start back towards your bedroom to look for where your head wrap had hidden itself during the night. You weren’t going all the way downstairs looking a mess.
Anywhere on your bed was a no show. It wasn’t hanging off your lamp like you’d found it once (who knows how it ended up there in the first place), and it wasn’t under your bed.
You're just about to throw caution to the wind and run out as you are regardless when two things happen at once. You find your wrap sunken into your shoes at the end of your bed and someone knocks at your door.
“Oh come the fuck on.” You grit your teeth, snatch up and firmly situate your traitorous wrap, then stomp over to jerk open the door.
“No.”
In front of you, dressed in a gray pair of sweats, Sam frowns lightly, thick brows raising.
“You made a promise,” he hedges.
You flip off said thick - accusatory - eyebrows.
“Screw my promise. I'm going to stay home and you’re going to leave. Goodbye.”
The door closes right in his face. He doesn’t take the chance not to let it, only to step back so he doesn’t break his nose. You appreciate that.
“Now hold on-! Aw come on, Y/n!” There’s muffled shuffling behind the door, him adjusting his gym bag more than likely, before he knocks again.
While you ignore him to start taking stuff out the freezer for a smoothie - you were already up, you might as well make it worth your while - he knocks three more times.
It’s when your phone starts buzzing on the countertop that you cave, stomping back over to the door and cracking it open just enough for him to see the glower on your face.
“What part of ‘Bye’ isn’t clicking? I’m tired, my muscles ache in places I didn’t even know were possible, and if I have to meal prep anymore I’m going to scream.”
He peeks through the sliver.
“Just one little circuit, alright? I brought everything with me so you won’t have to leave… .” His eyes have taken on a particular brightness that makes you just a little weak in the knees. “I’ll even cook for you after.”
Goddamnit. Your face smooths out from the glare you were rocking and Sam’s lights up.
“See? That sounds nice, now, doesn’t it?”
“Fine. A full meal, not no damn sandwich, and you make my smoothie before we start.”
“Deal. Thought you were gonna break my heart for a minute there, I'm really glad we pulled through though.”
“Yeah yeah,” you grumble and drag him and all his crap in.
_ _ _
“If you’re still aching after two days then we probably have to adjust your routine,” he curls upward and the muscles in his arms flex, stretching the sleeve of his maroon shirt to its limit. “I’ll take a pen and paper to it and we’ll figure it out, that fine by you Queen of Sheba?”
You scoff while going down on your push-ups.
“Yeah, it’s fine Sam,” you make sure to catch his eye as you straighten your arms to come up, “thanks.”
He smiles, switching to do curls with his left arm.
You go down, but end up watching unblinking for a few seconds as the muscles on his bicep become well defined peaks.
Hn.
Sam glances up and you rapidly realize that you’ve been laying on the ground and staring creepily at him for the better part of a minute.
Roughly, you clear your throat; Sam smirks and seems to go deliberately slow on his next curl. The way you gulp hurts a little.
“See something you like?”
Scowling, you roll your eyes and pick back up where you left off on your push-ups. You’re focusing intently on the tile underneath your palms when you answer him.
“No,” you snap to the floor.
Everything about Sam’s laugh says he doesn’t believe you worth a damn.
You don’t particularly care what he thinks though; something that you reiterate over and over in your head as you go on to the next workout.
Where the fuck Sam’s forward ass got off hiking a portable pull-up bar up to your apartment you did not know, but here the thing is, sitting nice and pretty like it belonged to be an absolute eyesore in the middle of your living room.
You sigh and decidedly don’t stare at him too hard as he eases down to the floor to take your previous place and start his own round of push-ups, and probably a few floor presses or something considering he brings the dumbbells down with him.
On your end starting your pull-ups starts off relatively easy. They’ve never been your favorite - and you’re certain they never will be - but at least you could do them now since you started training with Sam almost a year ago now.
Sam was neat like that. Uplifting without slipping into condescension, and being one of the few people who could push you so thoroughly out of your comfort zone.
Certainly the only person you allowed to upheave your more flexible boundaries with so little push back.
Breath huffing out of you you force yourself to rest before starting on your next set, eyes running over your workout partner’s back and the way the muscles there are also incredibly defined as he engages them.
It was a little unfair honestly. Who gave Sam Wilson the right to look so perfect? With a grunt you start working out again.
Eventually you begin waning, you can feel it in the way your arms instantly start to shake as you try to pull your body weight up for your next set, and the excess heat building in your fingers. How even as you attempt to swing your legs to get more momentum to do the pull-up you just barely manage to get one in before your arms give out, straightening back, and you’re left just hanging there.
“Goddamn,” you curse. Today really was just not your day.
Distantly you note the soft thud of weights being set down at your left but you're so focused that you don’t notice Sam move until he’s already in front of you.
He jumps up and you make a startled noise as you come face to face before he does a pull-up as easy as can be. Your lips purse.
He grins, “I got you, come on. One more rep.”
You sigh but he’s looking right into your eyes with that soft grin on his face - and you’re a sucker - so you cave in less than five seconds. Also, you don’t want to keep hanging any longer than necessary.
“I might not have one more in me, period, but I’ll try,” you murmur as you look away. You prep your muscles to move, assuming the right position, when Sam shaking his head in your peripheral catches your attention.
“Didn’t I just say I had you?” He doesn’t wait for you to respond before he’s swinging just that much closer on one arm - fucking show off - and grabbing enough of your thigh to nudge you forward so he can get his arm around your upper leg and then pull you in.
“You’re such a show off, you know that?”
You still follow his line of reasoning, though; pulling up enough that you can get both of your legs around his waist.
Sam just laughs, teeth glinting.
“I’m just happy to help.”
“Ha,” you mock, but when he pulls up you do so with him. Your arms bend, but not with nearly as much strain as before with him taking the majority of your weight, and the pressure on your core significantly lessens.
You won’t admit to having to bite back a smile at the feel of him tucked against you.
“You okay now?”
“Yeah,” you pant out, legs tightening absentmindedly around his waist. Sam grunts lowly in the back of his throat. “You in the habit of catching people like this?”
The look that briefly flashes across his face is far more severe than you think your question merits, and when Sam answers he makes sure to look you in the eye.
“I try to be.”
Then the moment’s broken, he’s pulling you both back up into your final exercise of the day and you’re left wondering where the hell Sam Wilson got off making you love him like this.
NOTES: Hope you enjoyed!! If there’s any typos I’ll catch them later.
btw: if you’d like to leave a comment I’d very much appreciate it!
76 notes
·
View notes
The Sweetest Nectar
Pairings: Sam Wilson x Reader. Steve Rogers x reader
Summary: Steve is pining for you and the fact that you are Sam’s girl doesn’t mean a thing.
Word Count: 1K.
Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. RPF. SMUT,
Warnings: Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. SMUT! Read at your own risk; curate your own experience. Soft Dark Subby Nomad Steve Rogers. Darkish reader. Mention of pre-serum Steve, Lap dance in public, voyeurism, masturbation, mention of drugs and alcohol, pining, angst, teasing, exhibitionism (on reader’s part), possible non con exhibitionism (on Sam’s part). Oral sex (f receiving), p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it up), sloppy seconds, possible cheating. All errors my own.
A/N: Thanks for this ask! It streched me.
I no longer have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘
I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.
You were giving your boyfriend a lap dance on Steve’s couch, and it made the host irrationally happy.
Steve was glad that Sam had someone, especially someone as sweet as you. Damn, you were probably so fucking sweet.
Steve licked his lips as he watched your hips undulate in front of Sam’s face. This was the perfect opportunity to watch you and ogle your body, because everyone was a little tipsy and a little high and doing it too.
It was all in fun, right?
You glanced at Steve upside down as you gyrated on Sam’s lap now, and bent backward all the way over, your braids touching the floor, giving the room a view of your luscious tits.
Yeah. You were perfect. And this night was the highlight since Steve came out of the ice.
You winked at Steve and his face grew red, but he played it off by taking another drink and rubbing his beard while flipping his long hair out of his face.
It worked on countless other women, but you just sat back up and pulled Sam’s face into the valley of your breasts, gasping as he motorboated your clothed breasts and grabbed the glorious globes of your blue-jeaned ass.
People laughed, but Steve’s mood changed; he started plotting dismemberment and where to scatter body parts when Bucky came up to stand beside him and watch.
“Hold it up a little higher, buddy.”
Steve didn’t tear his eyes away from you as he took another drink and replied.
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“That torch you’re carrying. Maybe she’ll see it if you hold it up higher, Lady Liberty.”
Steve just scoffed and drank some more, not denying anything that Bucky had said.
Bucky laughed and went to get another beer, as Steve practically cried in his, his heart silently aching for you.
—-
You and Sam were in Steve’s bedroom, taking advantage of the fact that everyone else was doing body shots in the kitchen.
“F-f-fuckkkkk! Samuel T-t-t-hom… fuck, Samuel Thomas W-w-wilsonnnnn.”
You were grabbing Sam’s ears as he skillfully ate you out, looking down on him between your legs as he sucked and pulled and played with your clit.
“Fucky, Baby… where did you learn to do … goddamn…”
You panted to try and catch your breath as he inserted three fingers inside you and spread them out.
“Holyyyyyy Shhhhhhh!!!!!!!!”
You came like a freight train, your knees clamping down around Sam’s head. Sam’s large hands pried you from around his face and came up for air, a triumphant smirk on his face. He held your legs open and gazed at the pretty dark, wet lips of your cunt and the creamy liquid oozing out between them.
“Learning new techniques every day. Just to keep you satisfied, darlin’,”
Sam shook his head and watched as your pretty pussy lips sheltered your still quivering folds.
“It’s a beautiful view.”
Steve silently agreed from the closet, watching your beautiful cunt shine in the dim light from the street. He had his hand wrapped around his cock, fisting himself brutally at the sights, sounds, and faint smell of you. Steve silently willed Sam to action, wanting to hear how that wet pussy sounded when it was fucked good.
It was just like before the war, when he watched Bucky…
“Hmmmm, Daddy. Give me some. Please? Pretty please. Will you give me some of that thick dick?”
You leaned back, legs still open, looking up at Sam, who was standing now, in front of you.
Your face, fucked out and glowing, looked up at his friend as you licked your lips was everything in the world to Steve Rogers right now.
Steve imagined it was him you were begging, and he didn’t know if he wanted you to suck Sam off or let him fuck you senseless. He just knew that wanted to bust this nut.
“Assume the fucking position then.”
You whimpered, and Steve nearly bust in his hand.
“Yes, Daddy.”
You got on all fours on the bed and that view was even better than before. Oh, how he’d eat that ass, Steve thought.
Sam smacked both cheeks three times, and your moans and sighs alone were enough to make Steve cum. He watched his friend line up his thick dick and swipe it through your folds, and could almost feel your beautiful wetness. Stevehad to bite his lips to hold in his own grunts as Sam slowly, wetly, and solidly sank into you.
“Ohhhhhh… shit….DADDY!!!”
“Fuuuuuccccckkkkkk!”
Sam’s head lolled back on his shoulders as he bottomed out and Steve’s eyes practically rolled back in his head as he witnessed the ecstasy.
Then, Sam looked down and smacked your ass again. Steve watched, rapt, as Sam slowly pulled almost all the way out, then plunged quickly back into your wet goodness. He bet you were so warm. Sam did it again and again and again, faster and faster, and faster. Steve stroked in time as you moaned louder and louder and louder, oblivious to the others at the party.
Steve watched your back arch, and your flesh shake and ripple with every back shot delivered. He was so fucking close.
“Daddy? Daddy? Please Daddy.. I wanna, I wanna….I neeeeeed to…”
“Cum, Darlin’... give it to me. Fuck yeah!”
Sam’s voice was a growl and as you started shaking, Steve’s cum started spilling into his palm and the sock that he was using to contain it.
“Shhsshhhhittttttt….” Steve’s whisper was not silent, but quiet enough that you two wouldn’t hear it over your own noises.
You and Sam collapsed on the bed..
“That was great, Darlin’. You shouldn’t tease me like that in public. ‘S not gonna stop me from giving it to you.”
Sam kissed your nose.
“I am well aware of what that does to a man. Makes it that much better, Daddy.”
Sam laughed, and then moved toward the bathroom.
“We better get outta here, before Steve catches us in his bedroom.”
You looked toward the bathroom and then sat up on the edge of the bed, legs open again.
Steve saw your wrecked pussy, the combination of you and Sam seeping out, and his cock swelled again. He nearly yelled when he saw you playing in it again. It was like you were doing it just for him.
But you stopped when Sam came back out to get dressed.
“I need a little more time to get cleaned up. You go ahead.”
“Ok Darlin,” Sam leaned over and kissed your forehead and you reached for a peck on the lips.
“You made me hungry, took all my energy. I’m going to go eat some food.”
Sam winked and left the room smiling and happy.
When the door closed, you stared straight at the closet.
“Well? Are you going to stay in there and jack off again, or are you going to come out and clean me up?”
You leaned back on your hands, legs wide.
“Now’s your chance Steve. I know you’re in there. Are you going to come out Captain?”
Steve gulped. Then he couldn’t help but comply.
“Fuck…”
Steve emerged from the closet, the tip hard cock glistening and stiff at the opening of his undone pants. He walked toward you and dropped to his knees.
You threaded your hand in his hair, brushing it away from his forehead as he closed his eyes at your touch. You guided his head toward your throbbing cunt.
“You get sloppy seconds, but I bet that’s what you like…”
“Yes ma’am.”
Steve nodded vigorously as his tongue collected the sweetest nectar he’d ever tasted.
770 notes
·
View notes
°•☆Not so Sweet ☆•°
Kinktober Day 2 ♦️ Dirty Talk ♦️ Kinktober Masterlist
Sam Wilson x Reader
Sam’s never looked at you this way, or so you think.
CW: mutual pining
Words: 1k
Sam Wilson’s a sweet man, the sweetest man you’ve ever met.
His gap-toothed smile could light up a whole room and his smooth, humble confidence makes you swoon.
He opens doors for you, always compliments your appearance, showers you with gifts and attention.
Whenever the world gets you down, Sam’s always there, to cheer you up, listen to you and wrap you in his muscular arms. Whenever you’re tucked in his warm embrace, your troubles melt away. His deep, patient timbre soothes your worries with ease.
He’s perfect. But he’s never made a move. Not once.
So you never allowed your mind to wander there.
But today, your mind isn’t just wandering. It’s sucked in a rabbit hole of sheer, unprecedented awe as your wide eyes cling to his frame.
You swallow, your gaze gliding over Sam’s rich brown skin, glistening under the blazing sun rays. Sweat drops drip over his arms and chest, outlining each of his thick, defined muscles. He grunts as he throws and catches the shield, his movements lithe and practiced. Mesmerizing. You can’t help but note how his face tightens with the effort, concentration pinching his brow. South of your stomach, there’s a funny little tickle.
You lick your lips.
Sarah comes out onto the porch. As she catches your expression, a bright grin breaks out on her face.
"You need a glass of water or something, Y/N?" she asks.
"...I’m good," you answer breathlessly, eyes still glued to Sam.
Lightheadedness engulfs you. Breathing in and out, you wipe your forehead.
"That heat," Sarah says. "It’ll get you every time."
"Hm-hm," you mumble. You’re definitely undergoing the effects of some form of heat alright, but maybe not the one Sarah’s referring to. As your gaze falls to Sam’s shapely butt cheeks and you begin to mull over how firm Captain America’s ass would feel beneath your palms…your head spins.
What are you doing?
You blink as awareness plucks you from your lewd daydreaming. It’s a revelation, a belated awakening.
Sam Wilson’s a hot man, the hottest man you’ve ever seen. Sure, you knew that. You’ve always known that. How could you not? You aren't blind. But it was never more than a fleeting observation, the same way you absently noticed his friend Bucky isn’t not too hard on the eyes either.
Sam Wilson is hot. Very hot.
You don’t quite know what to do with that tidbit of information, so you run back inside the Wilson house, the ache to cool off pulsing inside you.
You bump into Bucky on your way up the stairs.
"Hey, watch it, Y/N. What’s the rush?" he chuckles.
"Get out of my way, Barnes. I’m horny."
Bucky’s eyes look ready to pop out of their sockets when he does as you say, freeing space for you to race up to the bathroom.
You gulp in two wide breaths as your hands rest on the bathroom sink. Water’s frantically splashed over your face. Your flustered reflection stares at you. You need to get it together. Quickly. Slamming your eyes shut, you try to school your features and quiet your clamorous heartbeats. One. Two. Three. You can do this, no biggie.
Four. Five.
Just think unsexy thoughts. Cute puppies. A cold shower. Siberia. Fuck…what else?
Six. Seven.
Maybe if you think hard and long enough, you can put out the fire burning in your loins. Hard and long. Your teeth sink into your lip. Damn. Another, rogue filthy image sneaks into your psyche. This isn't helping. You shake your head.
"I thought I was the one supposed to work up a sweat."
You gasp, whirling around as a deep, familiar chuckle carries in the small bathroom. He beams at you, his large body filling the door. Not letting your focus drift over Sam’s naked chest is a challenge, one you miserably fail at.
"Sam, hey. I should-"
You try to cross the door but he blocks your way, his muscular arm casually resting on the door jamb.
Soft mocha orbs pin you to your spot and your breath falters.
"You okay there, sweetheart?"
You force out a chuckle.
"I’m great," you croak.
His breath breezes past your ear when he bends over your shoulder. "Are you sure?" He pauses, his pillowy lips grazing your temple. "Cause it looks like you got dick on your mind, baby."
Your mind short circuits as words get stuck in your throat. As Sam’s grin widens, your eyes bulge.
"I don’t have-"
He hums, nudging you backwards until you’re trapped between the cold bathroom tiles and his warm body.
His half-lidded gaze dives into yours.
"Really, so you’ve never thought about how I would feel against you, then?" Your mouth dries. Shock courses through you. You’re pretty sure you could pick your jaw off the floor. Sam’s voice lowers to a velvety whisper. "Cause I thought a lot about how tight and warm you’d feel around my dick." Your heart misses a beat. His lips slant teasingly.
"Bet that hungry little pussy would squeeze everything out of me." You shiver as his fingertips skim over your arm. "Cling to my dick like it’s made just for me." His tongue darts out to sweep over his bottom lip. "Would you beg for me, baby?"
Heat rushes to your core as he continues. "You probably sound so pretty when you beg. Just desperate for me to stretch out and ruin your sweet little hole." Trembles travel through your frame when his hard chest presses against your nipples. "Make sure you can feel me inside you for days."
You unleash a shameful little whine as your core clenches around nothing, lamenting its dreadful emptiness. "Need to make sure you know who this pussy belongs to before letting you go anywhere."
You glower at Sam, your voice coming out weakly between quivering exhales.
"Are you playing with me, Wilson?"
Sam snorts, tossing you a look of disbelief. Your balance abruptly shifts as you’re lifted off the ground.
"Oh, so you think it’s a game, sweetheart?" Sam says, laughing at your yelp of surprise when he heaves you on his shoulder as if you were a prize he was most eager to claim. "I think it’s time for a different kind of workout."
I do not have a taglist anymore. Follow and turn up notifs for my sideblog @straytales to know when I post something new.
548 notes
·
View notes
Runner, Runner
Warning: NO PLOT, fem receiving, language, MDI
"Fuck," I whimpered gripping the sheets.
"Sam, please I can't take it anymore," I whined, begging him for him to stop. He pushed my back in making me arch my back deeper.
“Shit, you're so tight." He groaned The sound of his voice sent shivers down my back. I could never get enough of this man, but right now I need a break.
"You take me so good, baby." He moaned, thrusting deeper.
I let out a whimper trying to get away from him, "Uh-uh c'mere, and take this dick."
He growled his words slurred as he started moving faster I was panting harder, trying not to come.
I knew he had some built-up stress from the last mission he was on and I was just trying to let him release, but this, this is something different I never tried to run from him before.
He pulled me against his chest and he continued to thrust inside of me.
I let out a loud moan as he rubs my clit, making me jerk under his hand and his cock, hitting my clit at each stroke.
I screamed out my orgasm, gripping his arms for support. My eyes rolled back when a wave of pleasure washed over me.
I felt my legs start to shake uncontrollably, Sam didn't care he held me unsteady his strokes became slopper letting me know he was close to his edge.
“Cum in me,” I moaned.
“Fuck,” he grunted, finally cumming. We collapsed together, both breathing heavy and sweaty.
I could smell him on me. It made me want more.“You ready for round two?” He asked grinning.
He chuckled lowly before pushing up on his elbows staring into my face with lust. “You know that's gonna be a little difficult seeing as we aren't fucking right now.”
33 notes
·
View notes
set me free | sam wilson
summary: it is said that your skin will regenerate itself approximately every 27 days. although, that may be true... it's been two years. why doesn't it feel like it?
pairing(s): sam wilson x teen!black!reader [ minor natasha romanoff x teen!black!reader as well ]
warning(s): talks of sexual assault, panic attack
genre: angst, hurt/comfort
words: 2,278
authors note: IF THE TOPIC OF SEXUAL ASSAULT IS TRIGGERING PLEASE DO NOT READ!!! the parts that are in italics are flashbacks to reader's nightmare. the flashback doesn't go into detail of the reader's SA, only Sam comforting them about the nightmare. this is a vent fic is based on my experience as a SA survivor. i use writing as a way of coping and stuff. it's free therapy. i've been sitting on this fic for over a year debating on if i wanted to post it and finally finished it. the ending is kinda rushed tho.
Two years ago, you died. Well, not physically. You were still breathing and everything. But that was when your innocence had retired. You never told anyone when it first happened. You were too scared of the consequences. And, by the time you hadn't, it seemed too late to speak up, in your opinion. There was nothing anyone could do now. He already ruined you. So, you just let it be.
Eventually, you learned from Sam and Natasha that your uncle was arrested for multiple charges of sexual assault. You were immediately overwhelmed with tears at the announcement, for you finally felt free. You began to laugh as well. The pair were quite confused as they watched you laugh and cry. A weight lifted off your shoulders that day as you finally could admit what he did to you. Sam suggested speaking up, but you were still very fearful of even being in the same room as him. It didn't matter that you'd be protected during the trials; the thought of it made you sick.
You still get nightmares from time to time. Sometimes, they were manageable. Other times, they were not. Last night, it seemed like luck was not on your side. You didn't get much sleep due to how bad this one was.
~~
It felt too real as if he was watching in the shadows of your room. FRIDAY alerted Sam due to the spike in your vitals. You'd awakened in a state of panic. You sat in a pool of sweat as your heart pounded in your head.
Sam busted through the door in a frenzy. He hadn't noticed his mistake until you frantically hurried out of bed toward the widow bites on the desk. You trembled in the corner of the room as you pointed the weapon toward him. Sam lifted his hands as he attempted to persuade you to put the weapon down. "It's okay. You aren't there anymore. You're safe," he assured. "You can drop it. It's okay." He stayed in that spot, repeating those phrases until you lowered the weapon.
Finally, the widow bites hit the ground. You drop down along with it. Slowly, Sam takes a couple of steps toward you. Knowing you were still startled, he squatted down to your level to make himself less of a threat. He kept some distance between you, instructing FRIDAY to turn on the lights. "You're safe. I'm here. It's okay." You quivered in fear. Although you saw Sam before you, you only heard your uncle's voice -- the monster who took advantage of you. Your mind was playing tricks on you. "Breathe with me, yeah? Ready? One, two, three, four…." You obeyed his instructions.
Breathe in. Breathe out.
Soon enough, your breathing went back to normal. Your sobs shift to hiccups and periodic sniffling. Sam waited for you to settle more before questioning, "Is it okay if I move closer?" He didn't want to set you off again.
You nod.
"Are you sure?"
You swallowed. "Yes," you whispered with a croaky voice.
Carefully, Sam scoots to sit beside you. He makes a point of keeping some space between you. You sit in silence for a while. He wants you to take control of the situation. He doesn't want you to feel pressured to talk. You recognized the silent act and appreciated him dearly.
"I… I thought I saw him." You glanced up at Sam; your voice was low, shaky. You pointed to the corner adjacent to you. "H-He was right there." Sam doesn't speak. He held out his hand as a silent invitation of reassurance. His eyes and the expression on his face held sympathy. You clutch his hand like your lifeline.
"He can't reach you anymore." Those five words caused a loud sob to escape. Sam pulled you onto his lap and nestled you as you let it all out. He couldn't prevent the tears from falling. Sam hated that this happened to you. No one deserves to feel manipulated and violated.
"God, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
You sat there for who knows how long. Waves of grief and pain danced throughout the room as both of you cried. Sam grieved with you as you wept over the loss of who you once were. Truthfully, he felt responsible for what happened to you. The man wished that he was there to protect you that night.
He hadn't noticed that you'd fallen asleep until he heard the sound of soft snores. Guessing that you wouldn't want to sleep in your bedroom for the rest of the night, Sam slowly maneuvered himself to carry you to his room instead. Sam spotted your teddy bear in his peripheral vision as he approached the door and grabbed it before walking down the corridors. Thankfully, he didn't have to worry about waking anyone else in the Compound because only You, Sam, and Natasha lived on this floor. As far as Sam knew, Natasha was still visiting her sister, Yelena, in Ohio.
Once he settled you in his bed, Sam made himself a makeshift bed on the floor at the end of the bed. Sam knew you'd end up scolding him in the morning for doing so, but he didn't care. He checked his phone for the time and noticed a message.
Message from Nat:
Hey. Friday alerted me that [Name] had a nightmare again. My flight isn't for another hour, but I'll be there before she wakes up. I know you've got them, so I'm not too worried. Update me tomorrow :)
Delivered at 2:35 a.m.
I finally got her back to bed. This one seemed much worse. I'll tell you more in the morning. Have a safe flight, Nat
Delivered at 3:56 a.m.
Sam checked up on you again before allowing himself to fall back asleep. "Sweet dreams, [Name]."
~~
As you wake up, the scent of lavender and pine trees greets you. From beneath you, you can hear Sam snoring. Usually, you'd scold him for the potential back pain he'd experience later. But you were too exhausted today to do so. Despite your body's protests, your brain determines you are better off continuing your education. Some of you believe that connecting with friends will lift your mood. So you try not to wake up Sam and sneak back to your room to prepare for the day.
You were better off staying at home.
The school hours are a blur. You lack self-control. You are not present mentally. You've detached yourself from everything. You were tired of your peers and those who didn't know you well. You wrote your exhaustion off as pulling an all nighter, which wasn’t too much of a lie in your eyes. That was your explanation when confronted with your unusual behavior. Most people bought it. It took more sway from Peter, Ned, and Michelle. They stopped bothering you after you assured them you were okay, though you still occasionally felt some concern. When the day is done, you are overwhelmed by the amount of skin you would brush up against while walking through the hallways to your next destination. You're quick to pack your belongings and rush out of the building. You don't bother to say goodbye to your friends.
A black Corvette Stingray awaits you just outside the school's main entrance. "Hey, Solnishko," Natasha says as you enter the car. When you questioned Natasha one day during your training session, she explained that it meant "little sun." She described you as having a bright and fiery essence, similar to the sun. And you became her little sun from then on. However, her little sun isn't shining as bright as usual today.
The term endearment makes you smile but doesn't reach your eyes. Natasha doesn't comment on your gloomy disposition.
"Hi," you reply. "How was your trip?" The upbeat tone you desire does not come through. As Natasha drives away, you concentrate on the blurry scenery outside the window. You cringe internally at your lack of enthusiasm. Even though small talk is the last thing you want to do right now, you last saw Natasha a while ago. You were missing her presence.
"It was great. Later, I'll fill you in on everything." Only a murmur is returned, so the redhead ends the conversation there. The only sound on the return trip home is the radio playing at a low volume.
Natasha knows that you're not yourself. Your body language reeks of detachment. She doesn't take offense to the lack of expression you offer her. Sam gave her the run-down of last night's events once you left for school. She sees herself in you, and it pains her. The same drained look in her eyes after the memory of the past that Natasha pleaded to any god who would listen to escape. She knows how it feels to have her body controlled in such a terrible way - Innocence that was snatched away without any consent. It upset her terribly, but the most she can do is comfort you in any way she can.
Once you enter the Compound, she guides you to her room, knowing that you usually find solace in her bed compared to your own. "Do you want to talk about it?" You still stand at the edge of her bed, arms crossed against your chest as comfort. She sits with her back against the headboard, waiting for you to make a move yourself. She waits patiently for you as you ponder whether you want to relive the nightmare again. You crawl over to the opposite side of the bed and lie so your head rests in her lap. "You know, I was talking with Bruce the other day, and he told me our skin regenerates itself every 27 days," you say as she caresses your cheek. "It's been two years, Tasha; why can I still feel him?" Your voice cracks as the tears you've been fighting away resurface.
Natasha's throat runs dry at your words. She wants nothing more than to harm the man that hurt you. Of course, there isn't a time limit when it comes to healing from trauma, but she hates that this still affects you so profoundly to this day. "I don't know, Solnishko," she whispers. She's at a loss for words. She knows nothing she says will immediately take away the pain you experience. "I'm sorry I can't take the grief away, sweetheart. If I could, I'd do it in a heartbeat."
"I know. But your presence is enough for me." You bask in each other's comfort for a while. "Is Sam still home?"
"Yeah, did you want to see him?" she asks, and you nod in response.
"Okay. Hey Friday?" she calls to the Artificial Intelligence. "Can you tell Sam to come to my room, please?"
"Of course, Ms. Romanoff," the AI replies after a beat.
After a few minutes, a knock sounds at her door. Granting the man entrance, Natasha gestures to the teen in her lap, who has their eyes closed. "Hi, honey," Sam greets them as he nears the edge of the bed. Slightly opening your eyes at the sound of his voice, you grin. "Hi, Sammy," you whisper.
"How are you feeling now?" He asks you. Observing your face, he can see signs of exhaustion in your eyes.
"Very drained," you admit. "But a little better now that both of you are here." As much as you love everyone on the team and have a strong connection with them, you've always been more connected to Sam and Natasha for some reason. And the two of them love you like their own. They both smile softly at that.
"How about we all take a nap, yeah? And then we can go out for dinner later?" Natasha suggests, looking at Sam for his thoughts on the suggestion.
He nods. "Sounds good to me. Is that okay with you?" He asks you for confirmation.
You nod in agreement. With a yawn from you, you all situate yourselves on Natasha's bed. Sam and Natasha lay on opposite ends, with you in the middle. They wait until your breath evens out before speaking quietly. "I might call the school tomorrow to excuse her. She needs a day for herself." Sam tells the redhead.
"Yeah, she needs it. Maybe we could plan an outing with the team for her." She kisses your forehead, brushing your braids out of your face. "Or just with us, depending on how she's feeling in the morning."
Sam nods at the idea and closes his eyes; Natasha follows suit. And for a while, it's quiet until he says, "You know, you'd make an incredible mother, Nat." The statement causes Natasha to open her eyes again and look at Sam. He knows the subject of motherhood is a touchy one, given her background, but he can't help but admit it. He honestly does believe his friend would be the best parent. "Thank you. You know, you wouldn't make too bad of a father yourself, Wilson. You already have the terrible dad jokes downpacked," she says with a light chuckle.
He sucks his teeth. "They not that bad."
She smirked lazily as the jet lag from the mission caught up to her. "Everyone else begs to differ."
"You think they'll be okay?" Sam asks as he stares at the sleeping teen between them.
"They always do. They have us in their corner to guide them," she reminds him, and he nods in agreement. If you were anything like either of them, you wouldn't let this throw you off track forever. You always bounce back from whatever obstacles life throws at you. With that, they fall asleep with a heaviness in their hearts for you, but they know you'll be alright.
13 notes
·
View notes
But hear me out 18+
This is a man that will fuck you anywhere. He'd loft you up like you weighed nothing and fuck you within an inch of your life. You could be washing dishes and he'd hug you from behind and place a kiss on your neck and the next thing you know, he's got you bent over the counter as he fucked you hard and deep.
And don't get me started on how often he's fucking you raw. Man's can't get enough. From the first time you let him hit raw, Sam can't control himself.
There's rarely a day when he's home that he's not inside of you. You wake up most mornings to him either already fucking you or him sliding into you. You'dve begged him to cum in you a thousand times already and you'd beg him a thousand times more.
You'll never tire of this man and the way he fills you up.
275 notes
·
View notes
How I Meet Your Auntie
Part 1: The Other Guy
Sam Wilson x black reader
Description: for the longest time Sam had been the other guy. The guy making moves both big and small behind the scene. But what if he was more?
Warning: this is a slow burn . But I will link all the additional parts here don’t worry. Eventual smart per usual.
A/N: While we’re getting into how they met this is always an introductory to the reader
This is gonna be a 3 mini part series. Maybe 4 but we’ll see. No beta.
(Unedited.)
The place was pretty empty. Deserted in fact, looking as if no one should be there at all. That's what made it a great hiding spot. No one would think to check for them there. This was all that was left from the good of S.H.I.E.L.D. The remaining agents that were alive who hadn't gone into hiding. In the corner of the downsized 'facility' were two persons separated by two glass boarders. The only sound that could be heard was whispering between the injured and his visitor.
"Can we tell them now?"
"No."
"....how about now?"
"No."
"Now-"
"Y/n!"
"Nick!"
He gave her a look which made her roll her eyes.
"Sorry. Fury!" She repeated.
"Will you stop pacing? You're giving me a bigger headache than I already have." The man groaned shifting the position of his head on the pillow of the hospital bed.
"I can't help it, I'm nervous." Y/n sighed, plopping down in the cushioned seat next to his bed, "I just- you didn't see their faces."
"Neither did you, you've been here with me." Fury deadpanned.
"I know but Maria said-" Y/n was cut off.
"It isn't time yet Y/n and you know it. If the world is to believe I'm dead, it has to be everyone." Fury explained once more. "HYDRA has been deeply rooted in S.H.I.E.L.D for quite some time now. To expose us now is dangerous."
"How do you know I'm not dangerous? "
She wasn't a danger, not to him at least. While Fury didn't trust many people, he was 100% sure he could trust Y/n. Not just because of their close history, but because he knew she was genuinely a good person.
"Look, how about you go ahead and meet up with them." He suggested instead of answering her question. "See for yourself that they are okay after the run in with Zola."
"Are you sure?" She stood to her feet, grabbing his hand. "I'm not sure about leaving you alone."
Glancing out the glass window around the small facility she wearily took in the few agents left. While she didn't trust them, Fury did. Usually it meant something, but after he was nearly killed, Y/n was no longer sure if his trust in people meant anything.
"He's not. He has me."
Maria Hill stood in the door way offering Y/n a small smile. With a nod in her direction, Y/n smiled back before looking back at Fury.
"Take it easy sir. I'll be in touch with the both of you."
Walking past agent Hill she stopped as Hill grabbed her hand.
" Be careful." Hill gave her hand a gentle squeeze.
"I'll keep you posted." Y/n agreed with a nod before departing.
Breaking into the home was fairly easy. It was clear whoever it was Steve and Natasha found refuge with didn't have any enemies. They were either really skilled or stupid to not have any form of protection. As soon as he threw the first punch, Y/n knew which of the two he was.
Stupid.
It was a clumsy punch, one that she evaded with ease. Ducking out of the way, she blocked the next with her forearm pushing him back slightly. Deciding to end this pointless battle Y/n prepared for the mans next throw.
Right arm elongated she caught his fist. With her free hand she landed 3 quick punches -1st to the abdomen, 2nd to the chest, 3rd to the face-
Before flipping him over her shoulder and onto the floor where he landed with a loud thud.
"Shit."
Groaning Sam rolled around slightly, trying to figure out how he got his ass handed to him so quickly. Through small slits he peered up at the caramel complected beauty that stood over him, wondering where the angel came from.
"Gets them every time." She grinned a little placing her hands one her hips.
"Nice to see you no longer throw your punches."
Turn her head quickly, Y/n relaxed at the sight of Natasha who now stood in the doorway of the dining room.
"I had really great teachers." she winked.
Hearing the commotion, Steve also made his way into the area, a look of confusion on his face once he saw Sam on the lying there slightly rolled.
"What happened to you?" He questioned his friend.
"Me? Oh. No. Nothing man. I'm good. This is my thinking spot." Sam waved off still lying on the floor. "Can I ask you something? Does everyone who comes after you guys look like her?"
It was then the Captain noticed there was someone else in the room. His eyes locked with hers, the corner of his lips twitching upwards.
"Uncle Steve," Y/n greeted with a wide smile.
"Y/n! What are you doing here?"
"Eh, I had a feeling you were going to do something dumb and stupid." She shrugged as Steve helped his friend up as she hugged Natasha.
"Eh, we've done worse." Nat shrugged when the pulled apart.
"Budapest." The two friends shared a laugh, Y/n turning to Steve who had yet to take his eyes off of her.
"Bring it in old man!" Y/n stepped forward smiling.
The embrace between Steve and Y/m was filled with love as they both seemed to relax into the hug. When S.H.I.E.L.D fell, they weren't together and even though they couldn't didn't show they're concerns, they were there. Knowing the other was okay was one thing, but seeing it right before your eyes was relieving. After all, all they had left was each other.
"I'm glad you're okay." Steve spoke kissing the side of her head.
"You too. You know I worry."
Feeling eyes on her, she shifted her brown orbs in the direction of the man she didn't know. "Whose the other guy?"
"Hi. Sam Wilson." He greeted holding his hand out for her to shake. "and uh......your uncle?"
"Son. Just don't." Steve held his hand out as a warning.
"Uh huh. Well," Sam scratched the back of his neck glancing at the hero and to assassins. " I made breakfast if you guys eat that kind of thing."
While Natasha and Steve sat at the table, Y/n leaned against the kitchen counter. Sam, who was going through a bunch of files, started up more conversation.
Y/n Rogers was a very distant relative to the Captain America. Believed to be an only child, the name should've died along with Steve. However, he wasn't an only child. His father had fathered another child, one whom he met at his fathers funeral. A half brother, Joseph Rogers the second, who later sought him in their late teens, Joseph being the eldest by 2 years.
Her grandfather, however frowned upon, unapologetically married a black woman. Together, that union brought about Y/n’s mom, Scarlet. Her mom raised her a single mother, before unfortunately passing away from an illness when she was only 12. From there, her grandparents both raised her. The pair passed when she was 25, her grandmother first, her grandfather following suit shortly after. If you ask her she believed it was from a broken heart.  however fat, she believed they would get it and that alone bought her peace. Still good no remaining family, Y/n was alone. 
So when Steve woke up from his icy slumber he looked up his estranged family. Imagine his surprise when the only remaining member turned out to be little ole Y/n.
“He found me at the end of my first tour.”
“Army?” Sam raised an eyebrow.
“Airforce. JAG.” She answered.
"Finding you wasn't the problem. It's getting rid of you." Steve commented playfully.
"Rude. You love me."
"Debatable. Is it Wednesday?"
A small smirk on her face, Natasha couldn't help but observe the interaction between Steve and his niece. Whenever they got together, she felt like she was seeing the real Steve. scarlet bought out a side of him they didn't get to see too often
“Of course that was just a cover.” Natasha teased making Y/n laugh at what Sam and Steve could only assume was a memory the two women shared.
"I met Nat a few years back when I was working for Tony."
“Stark?”
“That would be the one.” She laughed. “I was caught hacking into his Iron Man database.”
“Why?” Sam asked perplexed.
For..fun?” She smirked before continuing. “ Anyway, he gave me a job and when Natasha came in as an assistant clicked. When her cover was ‘blown’ she told me she thought I had potential and asked if I wanted to do something more.”
“I taught her everything she know," smirked Natasha.
As she leaned back in her chair to stretch she winced slightly.
You okay?" Asked Steve.
A 'yes' came from Natasha, while 'no' came from Y/n.
"It's nothing I'm fine." Shook off the red head.
"Nat, let me see."
“Y/n.”
“Natasha.”
“Fight me.” Natasha said after letting out a groan.
"Your out of shape right now. I'll kick your ass. Now, let me see."
Reluctantly shows her wound, which Y/n begins to examine.
"Ribs are slightly bruised. This cut is going to need stitches."
Not only was she extremely beautiful, smart, she was resourceful. Good with her hands. Everything about her was sexy to him.
"Sam....Sam....Sam!"
"Huh?" He coughed as he snapped back to reality.
"Do you have something I can stitch this up with?" Y/n asked sweetly.
"Uh sure."
Discreetly his eyes scanned the faces of his companions;
- Natasha was stifling a laugh
- Steve was not so subtlety glaring at him
- Y/n wore her best poker face leading Sam to believe she hadn't noticed him staring.
She had.
"So, the question is: who in SHIELD could launch a domestic missile strike?" Natasha asked as Y/n stitches her up.
"Pierce." Chorused the Rogers.
"Who happens to be sitting on top of the most secure building in the world." Y/n added.
"But he's not working alone," Steve continued. "Zola's algorithm was on the Lemurian Star."
"So was Jasper Sitwell." Frowned the Russian.
"So, the real question is," Y/n began after pulling down Natasha's shirt having finished patching the assassin up. "how do the two most wanted people in Washington kidnap a SHIELD officer in broad daylight?"
"The answer is: you don't." In the perfect moment for a mic drop, Sam dropped a huge folder in front of Steve.
"What's this?" Steve curiously began to pick through the files.
“ Call it a resume.” Samc winked in Y/n direction when she glanced at him curiously.
Natasha picks up a photo of Sam with his para-rescue team.
“Is this Bakhmala? The Khalid Khandil mission, that was you.” She then directed her next statement at Steve. “You didn't say he was a para-rescue.”
Steve Rogers: Is this Riley?
Sam Wilson: Yeah.
“I heard they couldn't bring in the choppers because of the RPGs.” Natasha recalled.
“ What did you use, a stealth chute?” Quizzed Y/n directing her attention from the files to Sam.
“No. These.”
The next older Sam handed the trio consisted of several photos of him as the falcon. The full mission report as well as how effective him and his wings were in combat.
“I thought you said you're a pilot?” Steve raised an eyebrow at Sam, recalling their previous conversation.
“I never said a pilot.”
“Impressive.” Y/n voices with a grin.
“I can't ask you to do this, Sam. You got out for a good reason.”
“Dude, Captain America needs my help.” Sam spoke with enthusiasm l. “There's no better reason to get back in.”
Steve mulled over for just a minute before: “Where can we get our hands on one of these things?”
"The last one is at Fort Meade, behind three guarded gates and a twelve-inch steel wall." Sam informed them as if the 12 inch wall would stop them.
Steve looked at Nat and Y/n who both shrugged.
"Shouldn't be a problem." Steve stated nonchalantly.
"I could use a warm up." Y/n confirmed.
"Sorry about your face." Y/n apologies feeling a little bad about the bruise she caused under his right eye.
"Don't worry, it'll never happen again." Sam stated indefinitely.
"At least it's still a nice face." She winked at him before following after her uncle and Natasha.
Thankful his skin was just the right shade of brown to mask his blush.
-------
I decided to start this far back because I don’t feel like Sam got enough love back in today. Not the way he should’ve so I am planning to break everything down from the beginning to where we are now, with TFAWS.
This is a slow burn, I repeat this is a slow burn.
Xoxo
115 notes
·
View notes
Take Care of U
Sam Wilson Thots Below…18+ ONLY!
Written on my phone, not beta’d. Just a smutty lil blurb inspired by the Sam fics I’ve been reading ;)
Clothes are scattered all over the floor. The tv plays quietly in the background. that’s not your concern. You’re not even hearing it because all you can hear is the squeak of the chair as you ride Sam into oblivion.
You swirl your hips, lifting up slightly to sink back down onto him. His head is thrown back in pleasure as your grip on his shoulders tightens.
“Fuck,” He curses. “Just like that, baby.”
You moan, throwing your head back. Your clit rubs against him as you ride, teasing the ever-tightening coil inside of you. Ecstasy rises in you, spurring you to move faster.
“Shit, daddy.” You whine. “I’m so close.”
Sam’s grip on your hips tightens as his hips buck up to meet you. You press your forehead against his, nails digging into his shoulders. You feel dizzy with pleasure as your orgasm builds, you move erratically as you search for that release.
Sam notices and immediately takes over, chasing his finish right along with yours. He slams you down on his length, bouncing you up and down. You whimper incoherently as he repeatedly hits that spot inside you. You grip him tighter and tighter, shattering on his cock. Still, Sam fucks into you hard and deep.
It’s time for daddy to get his. You’re a rag doll on his dick as he tucks your face into his neck, cradling your head. Shockwaves ride through you as pleasure mixes with pain, the stimulation overwhelming. But you’ll be damned if you ask him to stop. So, you let your daddy take what he needs without complaint.
“I got you, baby. Let daddy take care of you,” He pants. “You just be my good little fuckdoll, okay?”
A/N: I don’t know if I wanna take this anywhere 🤷🏾♀️ But these fics got me tweaking lmao. Inspired by @stargirlfics and @samwilsonsbabymama.
Backup blog: @thegirlonhamilton
104 notes
·
View notes
It Started With a Whisper - Chapter 9
Chapter 8 Chapter 10
Pairing: Sam Wilson x Black!Fem!reader / Plus Size reader
Warnings: 18+. Minors DNI. You are in charge of your own reading experience. Some sentences are intentional AAVE. ANGST. FILTH. Cursing, oral (fem and male receiving), fingering (fem receiving), PIV, slight cum play, possession kink if you squint, pet names, referring to male anatomy as "he", Dom Sam, Hurt/Comfort, super fluffy towards the end. Sorry if I missed some!
Summary: You are the front desk clerk who started a few months ago and you somehow managed to snag Sam Wilson, the handsome and sweet trauma counselor. Sam wakes up with only ONE thing on his mind.
Word Count: 3,382k
Masterlist
A/N: I am SO sorry this took forever. I missed yall LOL. Sam wasn't speaking to me and I went down some They Cloned Tyrone brainrot tunnels LOL. Boyega...mmm.. Anyway! Hopefully, we can more or less get back on schedule. Sam woke me and reader up on some bullshit! Could not concentrate at work because I was frothing to get this out. So enjoy this pure filth. Likes are always awesome. Please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! I love hearing your thoughts!
Taglist: @multiversefanfics @chaos-4baby @leahnicole1219 @capswife @anghstybean @targaryenvampireslayer @sheabutterbabes @browngirldominion
A tight coiling in your belly forced you to wakefulness. You moaned as you woke up. The raspiness of your voice grated over your ears. Another swipe to your clit made you twitch with a hiss.
Sam moaned and kissed the side of your thigh. “Mornin’ beautiful,” he said.
His tongue swiped against you and you scrunched your face, unable to handle the sensation. “Sam?” You asked. But his heavenly tongue worked against you and you ended up moaning his name.
“Fuck, say it again just like that,” he murmured against your incredibly wet pussy.
“Unf, oh god, Sam? What happened to the go-ahead from the doctor?” You asked. Your legs were pushed up to your stomach. You had gone to sleep the night before in one of Sam’s shirts and your panties. He had groaned and said you weren’t playing fair.
You merely told him that it was encouragement. Wishful thinking for the clean bill of health from his doctor.
“Went yesterday,” he said. He licked you like you were an ice cream cone on the hottest day of the summer. Your hand flew to his head, pressing him closer. Now that you were awake, you felt everything.
Your body was like a live wire, responding to every lick and suckle. “Wha- fuck - why yesterday?” You asked.
“Couldn’t wait,” he said. His words were sloppy and slurred. You looked at him. He was devoted to eating you out. He moaned and returned to your pussy, flicking that sensitive little nub with his tongue.
“So why–?” Your body collapsed as you came, a slow unfurling of wave after wave of pleasure. Your legs shook and trapped Sam’s head in between your legs. He had pulled your panties to the side so he played with the damp material while you came down.
Sam wiped his chin on your thigh then licked up whatever remained behind. He grinned at you and you swore your heart stopped. “You do not know how fuckin’ long these two weeks have been for me,” he said.
“Didn’t you go a year before we had sex?” You asked.
“I have never felt like this with anyone else,” he said. He kissed your thigh and hummed. “Every piece of you I want it tenfold.”
You sighed and opened your mouth to say something. He returned to eating you out, suckling and running his tongue all over your pussy. He went slower, drawing circles. You gripped his head.
“Oh fuck! Sam!” You cried out. He felt amazing in between your legs. What a fuckin’ way to wake up!
You felt boneless. Your free hand flopped uselessly against the bed. Clutching the bedsheets and releasing it. Sweat gathered on your brow. “Oh fuck, oh fuck,” you moaned.
The second orgasm rushed through you, setting off bombs within your body. Your body detonated, splintering you in tiny shards.
“That’s it, little one,” Sam cooed. “You’re so damn gorgeous when you cum. I wish you could see yourself,” he said.
You shook violently as you came down from this one. You pushed at Sam’s head. You were overly sensitive. If he touched you with that tongue again, you were not responsible for your actions.
Sam chuckled as you pushed his head away. He got to his knees and crawled up your body. His hands snuck under the shirt you wore and he plucked your nipples like a guitar. You hissed and jerked. His thick fingers rolled your sensitive nipples in between his fingers. He kissed up your neck, your jaw.
Finally, his lips slanted against yours and you sighed into the kiss. You ran your hands across his bare back. He was so damn scrumptious. Sometimes, you had to take a mental step back and pinch yourself. How the hell did you get so lucky?
Sam slipped his hand up the shirt, out of the collar, and wrapped his hand around your throat. You moaned, widening your legs so Sam could fit better.
“All I did was dream about getting back between your legs,” he said as he placed strategic kisses on your jaw.
Was this the same man from before he went on the mission? He seemed…so different. More in control. More settled.
“I know, you nasty ass. You were getting shot at and still managed to call me about getting back in here,” you said. You played with the edge of his briefs.
He kissed your cheek and flicked his eyes up to yours. “Wouldn’t you do everything you could to get back to heaven?”
“Shut up! Corny ass!” You said and giggled. But deep down, your belly flipped.
Sam kissed you, cutting off your giggles. He kissed you expertly, exactly how you needed to be kissed. He sucked your bottom lip into his mouth and you groaned. You whined when he bit down, tugging on your lip. You felt it like a tug in your pussy. You squirmed, fresh arousal gushing between your legs. He licked the sting away.
“I’m the nasty one, but you the one making a mess,” he said. His free hand that remained on your chest now moved south. He trailed his index finger around the outer parts of your pussy lips. You felt his hand swirl around your arousal.
“S-Sam?” You asked. You weren’t sure of your question. Sam only returned to kissing you, loving on you, while one finger continued to play around the edges of your pussy. He seemed like he was going to finally push in further and play with your clit. Perhaps dip his finger into the core of you.
He did none of those things. He ran that single finger up and down, getting to the outer rim of your entrance before retreating up and down your slit.
Your legs were shaking noodles. Your eyes were closed trying to process all of the different sensations. He was trying to kill you. Kill you with seduction. His hand squeezed on your throat and you moaned. You were sure he felt your clit throb. It ached. Bordering on painful.
A puddle formed underneath you by how wet you got. You lost track of time. Not caring how many hours or days passed as Sam edged you. Your teeth began to chatter as he made out with you.
“You okay, little one?” He mocked. Knowing fuck well you were anything but.
“Sam, please. Mercy,” you begged.
“Oh! You want mercy?” He asked.
You looked at him and nodded. You gave him puppy eyes, rolling your bottom lip in between your teeth.
“Aww, poor little one. You think that’ll work on me?” He asked.
You gasped and he chuckled at your expression. He kissed his way to your ear. His warm breath fanned across your neck, tickling you. But you were too far gone to laugh. You were wound tight. Needing to cum but he wasn’t letting you.
“Sam, please.” You placed your hand on top of his, but he wasn’t letting go of you any time soon. It took tremendous effort to say those two little words. One touch, that was all you needed.
“So, which is it? You push my head away and now you want me to keep going,” he said. He hummed as he thought. His finger kept up his torture and every now and then, he squeezed your neck to make sure you were still with him.
He took his finger off of you and brought it to your lips. “Suck,” he said.
You opened your mouth and sucked your juices from his fingers. You kept your eyes on him so he could see the raw hunger in your eyes. You would agree to sell your left kidney if it meant he’d let you cum. He groaned watching you.
He dropped his head into the crook of your neck. He placed a sloppy kiss there. His tongue brushed over your pulse point and you jerked.
“I need…”
“Mhm. I know what you need. You gonna stop pushing me away?” He asked.
“Feel too good,” you moaned around his fingers.
“I know, I know,” he cooed and licked your neck again. Your legs jerked, wanting to close them, to get some friction. But he was poised in between your thighs and there was no way to close them. You were stuck, with no friction and a demonic man who didn’t want to let you cum.
He chuckled darkly. “Get these wet for me, I’ll stop teasing,” he said. He pushed a second finger into your mouth. You sucked on him like you wanted to do his dick. You swirled your tongue around the tip of his fingers.
He chuckled. “Keep on and see if I won’t keep you here forever,” he said. He withdrew his fingers. Wasting no time, he pushed them inside of you and you cried out.
“P-promise?” You asked.
He kissed you and pumped his fingers inside of you, pistoning them. Your pussy squelched loudly in the room. The wet smack only turned you on more.
“Don’t test me, little one,” he said.
He pressed his thumb against your clit and you came immediately. It was like he set fireworks off inside of you. You twitched, your body going boneless once more. Sparks set off behind your eyes, random flashes of light behind your eyelids. You were yanked from your body, torn from it, torn inside out, and put right back together.
“So fuckin’ gorgeous. So fucking pretty. Need you,” Sam murmured plenty of sweet nothings against your throat, kissing and licking around his hand still around your throat. You panted as you calmed down.
Your eyes stared unfocused at his ocean blue walls. You had no words. No rational thought in your head beyond wow.
Just a few weeks ago, he had you mumbling incoherently off of a few orgasms. You were approaching that limit and you weren’t sure if you could take more. Sam hadn’t even entered you yet. You felt rolling waves of heat radiating off of his skin. His covered dick strained against your thigh.
You licked your lips as if you could already taste him. “Need you, need you so bad,” you slurred against his lips. His tongue delved inside and you moaned at the mingled taste of you and him.
“I don’t think I could last that long, little one,” he said, his lips dancing across yours.
He set off a dangerous fever beneath your skin. You were driven mad with need. With urges. The urge to touch and seek and make him feel half as good as he did with you. You pushed forward, somehow finding the strength to move.
You pushed him onto his back and crawled on top of him. You kissed down his chest, far too interested in getting to him that you didn’t want to tease. You didn’t want to play games. Your hands greedily pushed his briefs down, freeing his bobbing thick dick.
He chuckled at your enthusiasm. “He missed you too, girl,” he said.
You swallowed him down in one fell swoop and his hips bucked off of the bed. “Shit!”
You slobbered on him, getting him nice and wet before going to town on him. Sucking him down as you teased his tip. You braced yourself on his thick thighs and bobbled your head up and down, taking him as far down as you could.
Your tongue played with the head, juicy leaks of pre-cum filling your mouth. You swallowed that down. You were like a hungry gremlin, sustaining off of his moans and hisses and “oh fucks”.
His hands slipped into your hair, pulling you closer. Making you take him faster. “That’s it, little one. So good. Mouth feels so good. Oh fuck, show me you missed me,” he moaned.
Did he have no earthly fucking clue how much you missed him? Missed this? You, the girl who kept everyone at arm’s length, were begging for his company. Not in so many words, but…shit, did you need to prove it to him? How lonely these weeks had been?
Ariel was a godsend. But you had to lay up at night, worrying your guts out that he was in danger. You barely left his side since he’s been back, opting to stay over at his place longer and longer each night. To the point that he would chuckle and say it was too late for you to drive so you might as well stay over.
Did he not hear what you meant when you said he was yours now? There was no hemming and hawing. There was no going back on your word. He was it for you. You were ruined for any other man. You didn’t want anyone but him.
You poured all of that frustration and eagerness and feelings into slobbering on his dick. Your wet slurps were words you couldn’t speak. Your added hands to his shaft and balls were feelings you couldn’t name. Your hums and moans on his dick were binding ropes that you twirled around you two.
“I wanna cum in you,” he moaned.
Your pussy clenched around nothing hearing those filthy words. But you kept going. Kept working him. Kept reaching for every sigh, hiss, moan, and sound from that sexy ass throat. You wanted it all. You wanted him. You sucked hard and he unloaded into your mouth. His hot, pulsing cum splashed down your throat and you drank him down. Drank every last drop.
He shivered underneath you. You felt the muscles in his thighs bunch and contract. You released him with a wet pop.
He lazily got to his elbows and looked at you. His face was bunched as if he were mad at you. In a short amount of time, you were getting used to his expressions. Getting used to how he projected his thoughts onto his face. He did it on purpose, to let you in. You knew that he had to fight to close that side of him off while away on mission. You saw his face on the news.
This was not anger. It was like he understood what you were trying to do. The way you were trying to wrap him in your heart and keep him safe forever. The way you were trying to write your true feelings in the seams of his soul.
He took off his underwear completely, chucking it to the floor. He helped you pull off your shirt and motioned for you to kick off your underwear as well. He scooted up the bed and motioned for you to follow. You straddled him and he groaned. He was still hard.
He lifted you and then you sank down slowly onto his length. He stuffed you completely, bringing him home in a way you couldn’t put into words. When he was fully seated, he rubbed your arms, sides. The underswell of your boobs. He watched you as he did so, his head crooked to the side.
You relaxed more and more into him. You didn’t realize you were so tense. His soothing hands worked magic on your skin. Lulling you. You swayed a bit and leaned forward, resting your hands on his shoulders for balance. It brought you closer to him, your nipples rubbing against his chest.
It also put you at a new angle and his dick twitched inside of you. You shared a groan and giggled at it. He kissed you lazily, rolling his lips softly against yours. It was at odds at how he revved your engines earlier, you were getting whiplash.
“I’m right here, little one,” he whispered against your lips.
“I know, Sam,” you said. You opened your eyes and looked at him. He stared at you as well.
“I mean it. I’m right here. Feel me, touch me. I’m right in front of you,” he said.
You looked at him like he lost his mind. Of course he was right in front you. You felt his dick twitch every so often. He braced his feet against the bed and moved his hips, moving you along his hardened length. You moaned and bit your lip. You were so full of him and wrapped up in him. You circled your hands around his neck and he chuckled. He kissed your lips again.
“Baby, I’m right here. I didn’t die. I came home to you,” he said.
You reared up, leaning away. He wrapped his hands around your waist and held you against him. “Sam..”
Your panicked voice was new to you. Sam made soothing shushing noises and rubbed your back.
“Feel me, baby. Please. Don’t back away,” he whispered. He moved his hips and moved within you, letting you feel every slow glide of him.
You relaxed against him, putting your head on his chest. You touched him like he asked, running your hands along old scars, new scars, his thick biceps. His broad shoulders. Along his close cut fade.
You moaned softly at the way he moved, how amazing he felt. If only you could stay this connected.
“Sam,” you said. Tears gathered in your eyes. A knot of tension untangled from your chest. Each string slowly unfurled, loosened, and the relief was staggering.
“That’s it, baby. I’m here, in flesh and blood. I promise you, I will keep promising you that I will come home to you. I will never be where you can’t touch me. Where I can’t hold you. Where I won’t let you know every single day that I’m yours. I’m safe. I’m here.”
You softly cried against him as he pulled another orgasm from you. This one was soft, tender. An acknowledgement that he wrung anything he wished from you. There was nothing you wouldn’t give him. It should scare you. You’d known him a few months and only started this a few weeks ago. But you felt nothing but safe and supported.
You brought your head up and kissed him. He kissed you back. There was no hurry. Because he was right. He was right there, beneath your fingertips. You could touch him whenever you wanted. Feel the strength of him. Listen to his heart beat. Hear his breaths. Feel the wind fan across your neck.
Sam groaned, releasing his climax. You continued to make out, memorizing his soft lips. The way he sighed. How warm his hands felt against your waist and back. He rubbed your back and looked into your eyes.
“How you feeling?” He asked.
“How did you know?” You asked.
He smiled. “I know you. I don’t know how. But I know you,” he said. He kissed your cheek.
“I was so scared, Sam,” you said.
“I know. I’m sorry. Things moved so fast. But can you understand why I needed to?” He asked. He glanced at you, communicating too many things at once. You placed your fingers against his lips.
You smiled. Kissed his lips with your fingers in between. “I do understand why, Sam. I’m not asking you to choose. I know what I’m getting myself into with you. You’re a great man,” you said.
He chuckled. “You make me want to be a better man.”
“You already are, I promise,” you said. You put your head on his chest. You took deep breaths to smell him. To ingrain his scent in your nostrils. His heart thumped rhythmically.
It beckoned you to sleep. Sam would still be here beneath you all night if you wanted. You knew that in your bones. Unfortunately, you couldn’t fall asleep like that. He left you to get a towel and clean you up. You groaned about the huge wet spot on the other side of the bed.
“I’ll lay right there. You get some sleep,” he said.
“No, it’s okay. I made it,” you said.
“Aht, save your strength, little one. You’re going to need it,” he said. He tapped your nose and followed it with a sweet kiss. He climbed into bed on the other side, scooting against you and tucking you against him.
“Are you threatening me with a good time?” You asked sleepily.
“Got damn right. I got a lot to make up for. Some payback for you trying to suck the soul outta me,” he said.
You giggled and fell asleep to the sweet cadence of his heart.
Masterlist | Chapter 8 | Chapter 10
65 notes
·
View notes
Leah Gets Micro Braids
Sam Wilson x OC
Recently Leah and Sam have been rewatching Moesha and Leah has been dropping hints about getting micro braids.
"Don't you think I'd look good in micros? I haven't had any since middle school"
"Please don't. I had to help Sarah remove hers in Highschool. I can't do that again I just can't." Sam shudders just thinking about it
"It's ok babes I can just pay my braider to take them out"
*3 months after getting micro braids*
Heyyy Boo......... Her heart drops
"Shit!"
As soon as Leah got that "hey boo" text, she started plotting on how could she convince Sam to help take down her braids.
-2 hours later-
"What is her car still doing here? I damn well that it takes well over 2 hours to take out micro braids" Sam mumbles to himself
When the smell of Leah's Salted Caramel Peach Cobbler hits Sam's nose he already knows she's trying to butter him up.
Heyy there Captain *Leah says as she akwardly salutes him*
"Leah why did you make peach cobbler ? The only time u bake this is for my birthday, Thanksgiving or when you done fucked up. " Sam says with his arms crossed
"WHAT! NO! Wow so I can't spoil my beauuutifullllll boyfriend"
"Leah😐"
"ok fine...*sighs* my braider cancelled my appointment. Can you help me with my pleassseeee" all while trying to look as sad as possible
"Please Sam. They're falling off the bone and my scalp has so much build up from edge control and-"
"Ok fine but just know you owe me more than cobbler"
"Yay!!!!" Leah jumps up and kisses Sam all over his face
*Kiss*Thank*kiss* you *kiss* you're *kiss* the *kiss* best *kiss*
"Yeah yeah" Sam mumbles while mentally preparing for the next couple of hours, hell it might be days.
•••••••••••••••••••••••
Main acc: @princesscornbread
Writer's notes: This is something quick n fun ignore any mistakes.
11 notes
·
View notes
Addicted to You
Pairing: Mob Boss! Sam Wilson x Reader
Word Count: 932
Warnings: 18+ As always, MINORS DNI, Not Beta’d. All mistakes my own. Angst, Allusions to danger, talk of addiction, but not really. Substance use, partying, fake friendships, toxic parents, a sad, famous life, pining, peeing while on the phone, request for rough sex, Sam has a big soft spot for reader despite who she is, Rumlow! reader.
A/N: No one asked for this, but this is in the same AU as Try a Little Tenderness and The Representative. The AU is called This Thing of Ours.
I no longer operate a taglist. Follow @rampitupandread to be notified when I post.
I Do NOT consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.
——-
You were bored beyond measure.
There was also an indeterminate itch under your skin that you needed to scratch.
It happened every time you were in New York.
Like an addict, proximity to your drug of choice had you quietly feening, even though you’d found some safer, more life affirming substitutes.
The paparazzi swarmed you and your girls, and you gave them face although you were behind your designer sunglasses.
You knew that your body, clad in a skintight exclusive dress, the faux fur dripping off your arms, and the 24 inch weave flowing down your shoulders was what they were paid for.
The photogs called your name, ignoring the beauty of the crew around you as you entered the club.
Despite that, your girls bubbled up at the sight of the exclusive club and the other famous faces that turned to stare at you. The owner came over to greet you and lead you up to the VIP. Once settled, the popping of bottles commenced.
You knew why the girls around you stayed close, but you played the bestie game so as not to be alone.
Because that would mean you’d have to think.
“Damnnn… Y/N! That one guy from TMZ sure was sweating where D was tonight. You’d think he was dating him.”
The way Starr cut her eyes at you confirmed that she was the one sweating your latest beau.
You pulled out the phone that had your face plastered all over Times Square with ads and threw it on the table.
“Well maybe I should have let him answer my phone, because D has been blowing me up all night.”
Starr picked up the phone and scrolled through your notifications as Eve looked over her shoulder.
“Dammmm Son!” Eve shouted. “You got this man quadruple texting and shit, and calling too? Yo! Teach me the ways of that golden pussy.”
You laughed, flipped her off and took another drink of champagne.
You didn’t tell them any of what your other taught you. Ways to get a man and keep him, things to say and what not to say, how to eat, keep fit, but still make it all look natural. And yes, pointers on what to do in bed. Your mother was a piece of work, but she was sitting in a life of ease now. Even if her husband was a grade A asshole.
Your mother worked her way from being a drug runner’s girl to being the famous wife of a celebrated television personality, whom everyone (who didn’t know him personally) loved. He was everyone's uncle, and a multimillionaire.
Once the bag was secured, your mother made him adopt you, even though you were already 19, stating that because your father was dead, it was only right. But you knew it was only to have his powerful last name.
You carried the name around with you like the Hope diamond, and it allowed you access to handsome and talented musicians and rappers and actors for the last 8 years.
You were your mother’s dream, and your stepfather's prize. But you would always be a Rumlow at heart.
You were a gangsta.
Kiki’ing with the girls only fostered your boredom so you got wasted, literally dancing on the tables as the wee hours approached.
Around 2 am, you stumbled to the bathroom by yourself, your girls all wasted or having been picked up by the club’s clientele.
Once safe in a stall, and while you were peeing, you pulled your real phone out of your purse.
You closed your eyes and prayed as it rang. His sleepy voice answered.
“‘Lo.”
He sounded unsurprised at your call.
“Come get me baby. I’m at Knack. In SoHo.”
There were a few seconds of silence.
“What would your man have to say about that?”
You sucked your teeth.
“Now I know you’re not worried about him. Did you mean my brother? Brock?”
“You mean your half brother? Rumlow? Fuck him.”
You wiped and flushed the toilet.
“Why do you always call me when you’re in the bathroom?”
You heard rustling as he asked the question and your heart leapt that he might be getting dressed.
“Because what you and I have is so intimate, baby.”
You used your sexiest, sluttiest voice in him as you checked your makeup in the mirror. Of course it didn’t work. He laughed.
“Or maybe it’s because you’re full of shit. Meet me out behind the kitchen in 20 minutes.”
——
20 minutes later, a black R8 pulled up outside the kitchen entrance. All of the kitchen crew bid you goodnight as you climbed into the passenger seat. You’d spent the time waiting learning how to make risotto.
The car pulled out and headed toward Brooklyn. You greeted your man. Well, your man in your head.
“Damn, Baby. You smell so good.”
Sam’s gap-toothed grin did you in, as well as the side eye he gave you. He looked over at you and shook his head.
“You’re gonna be the death of me.”
You watched the muscles in his arm as he shifted gears.
“Literally.”
“Don’t be like that Sammy. Just take me to your place and fuck me real good. Hard. All night long. Make me forget my name.”
Your hand was on his muscular thigh and moving north. You told yourself that you craved his control, his hand on the column of your throat while he filled you to the brim.
Sam cleared his throat, clearly tempted. Then he moved your hand back to your lap, and again shook his head. He knew what you said you wanted, but he also knew what you needed.
“No. You’re wasted. What you can do is sleep in my bed tonight.”
He glanced over as you pouted and pretended to be mad.
But a night in Sam Wilson’s arms was the fix you’d been needing.
133 notes
·
View notes
☾☾☾Hello! Hope you enjoy what you’re about to read, I would appreciate it if you like, and reblog my work here on tumblr. Please do not share my work anywhere else, and if you see it has been, or someone is claiming the work as their own please tell me. My master list is pinned to my page if you wish to see more! ☽☽☽
Pairing: Sam Wilson x black!oc
warnings: none, fluff.Black love
Sam Wilson One Shot
Today was Washday, and since Amir skipped her last Washday, she had her work cut out for her. Her baby hairs were starting to turn crusty from the week old, dried up styling gel she applied for her last hairstyle. The dishes, laundry, and house were already clean. All she had to do was her hair. She sighed going into her bedroom to fall down next to her hair tools. An arrayment of combs, brushes, and a spray bottle. This didn’t include all the hair creams, gels, rubber bands, and oils she had in a bag across the room from her.
It should only take 5 to 10 minutes to take down the style, but if you’re like Amir, you have to take music breaks in between. By the time she is finished Sam comes walking through the door, a tired expression on his face, but his brown eyes light up the second they land on Amir. It wasn’t until she’s midway through a Beyonce performance that she finally saw him standing there watching her.
“Oh god you scared me! Why didn’t you say something?” Amir asked, she grabbed the remote from the couch to turn the music off, only to hear Sam’s laughter.
“There’s no way I’d miss a free Beyonce performance after the day I’ve just had.” Sam dumps all his stuff on the floor, and goes into their shared bedroom to throw himself on the soft cotton sheets.
“Aww hard first day as Captain America? You didn’t have to sign too many autographs did you? Ya know, I don’t remember Steve being this popular. In a minute you’re gonna have the paparazzi at our door.” Amir jokes sitting down next to him on the bed. She presses a kiss on his forehead, and lays next to him.
“I highly doubt we’ll have that issue in Louisiana Ami. Enough about my day, it looks like you’ve got a head full of hair to take care of.” Sam grazed his hand over her long, thick coils of a mane. He can tell she didn’t wash it, her hair still has a greasy residue.
“Ugh, unfortunately, and I can’t skip another Washday.” Amir groaned, and rolled off her side of the bed. She walked into the bathroom gathering her giant bottles of shampoo, and conditioner.
“Ya know, I could just wash it for you, since I’m home this time.” Sam offered, he came to stand in the bathroom doorway, arms crossed. The corners of his lips turned upward into a small smile. He enjoyed being at home with his beloved.
“Oh my god really? I will love you forever if you wash my hair for me.” Amir wiggles excitedly, Sam has washed her hair a few times before. She always fell asleep, that's how good it felt.
“Um we are married, legally you have to love me forever anyway, but yes really I will wash it for you.” Sam jokes, he throws his shoes off, and rolls up his sleeves preparing himself for the work.
Amir ran to grab her shampoo comb, and conditioning cap from the other room. She came back into the bathroom giggling, and bopping around a bit. Sam rolled his eyes at her goofy behavior, but he couldn’t resist the grin spreading across his own face.
“Alright get on over here Ms.Lady.” Sam waved his hand to Amir signaling for her to come closer. She bent her head over into the face bowl. Sam slowly turned the hot, and cold nozzles at the same time. He makes sure her hair is nice and soaked, and then he takes some shampoo, squeezes a medium sized dollop into his palm. He works it into her thick tresses making sure to use the wide tooth comb to work through any tangled strands. Sam then rinses her hair once, and repeats that step once more just to make sure he got all the old hair products out. Every once in a while he’d check on Amir to make sure she’s still alive down there, and she would reply with an appreciative groan.
Finally after the second thorough wash, Amir stands up slowly, and she lets Sam apply the conditioner. The bathroom smelled fruity, and delicious from her hair products. He finished her off by placing the plastic cap on her head, tucking in all the fly away coils, and then putting her hair bonnet on over that. She turns to him with a big smile on her face. Sam chuckles a bit, he’s sure she enjoyed the pampering, but he too got something out of it. Washing Amir’s hair, and sometimes styling it when she lets him, is therapeutic for Sam. A lot of the time his hands are being used to fight, but with Amir he gets to use them to love.
“Okay so after the conditioning is done, can you please, pretty please braid my hair?” Amir asked, her bottom lip poked out, her version of puppy dog eyes looking back at her superhero husband. Though she didn’t have to use puppy eyes, Sam would do it regardless.
“I thought you’d never ask.” Sam smiled, pulling Amir into a hug, and kissing her forehead. Then they spent the rest of the afternoon cooking, and dancing around the house to music. This Washday was successful indeed.
73 notes
·
View notes
Friend Of Mine {Long}
Warning: Language
Word count: 1,039
Hurt and anger formed in Sam’s eyes as the words fell from Bucky’s lips. “Sam please you have to understand,” Buck tried to reason stepping closer to Sam, but Sam only stepped further away from him.
Silence filled the room, Bucky searched Sam’s face for answers, or anything for that matter.
“He was my best friend,” Sam mumbles clutching his fist.
Bucky dropped his head, I watched from afar I didn’t want to interfere, at least not yet. “For years I mourned and grieved. And went through endless cycles of guilt.”
“I-“ started Bucky but Sam cut him off.
“And you know, I invited you into my home had you around my family, and expressed to you on multiple occasions how much Riley meant to me.”
Bucky tried apologizing for the umpteenth time since the truth was exposed.
I didn’t even know how to feel about the situation, Riley was my best friend to I was there with Sam on that endless emotional cycle.
I can only imagine the betrayal Sam feels compared to my own.
I loved Rile just as much as Sam does, but I also understand that Bucky wasn’t himself and was being controlled.
He took a deep breath and turned towards Sam again. "I know how important he was to the both of you. And I'm sorry, Sam. For everything." His voice broke on the last word.
Sam stared into the blue pools of Bucky's eyes, tears welling up in his own eyes.
He took a shaky breath as if his emotions were going to overtake him, “I trusted you.”
Sam left the room with nothing else left to say. It was quiet again, Bucky and I standing opposite of each other.
His eyes lingered on mine before he shifted them to the floor.
“If you need anything you know where to find me.” I gave him one last look before turning and following Sam outside.
It’d been over a month since we saw Bucky after what went down. Sam had been keeping himself distracted and distant.
He woke up extra early to leave and came home super late. Sarah would come by to check on him or bring the boys to get him out of his funk, but that never lasted long.
He would lock up in the garage working on something new for his suit or making upgrades on Red Wing, and if not that he was at the boat.
I knew that's where he'd be today, I braced myself and I turned the car off and got out.
I didn't know how any of it was gonna go, he kept everything bottled in and it could go left and fast. He sat on the edge of the dock with his fishing pole.
I could hear him humming along to Trouble Man.
I approached him sitting down next to him, he looked over at me and then turned his attention back to the water.
It was silent between us, and it had been like that for so long around the house I couldn't take it any longer.
"You okay Sam?" I asked.
"I just found out that my friend killed my best friend Y/N. How do you think I feel?" He spat.
I took in a sharp breath trying to keep my composure. "Sam, I know you're upset, but we can't blame-"
Sam scoffed and looked at me sideways, "Y/n, don't finish that fucking sentence, Riley was your best friend too and you just gonna brush that shit under the rug again just like everyone else did!" He yelled now standing and walking towards the boat.
I got up and followed him, I didn't want this to turn into an argument, but I'd be damned if I let him talk to me like that.
"Are you serious right now Sam? You don't think I stayed up nights on end dealing with my emotions after caring and catering to you? Yes Rile was my best friend and I loved him just as much as you did, but I also know Bucky wasn't himself either. I'm trying to force you to talk to him, all I'm saying is that this doesn't mean you have to give up on him."
I stopped talking and sighed, Sam turned to me still staring daggers at me. "Why are you defending him so much? Did you know he did this?" Sam threw the questions faster than I could answer them, so I stayed silent.
Taking my silence as a yes Sam asked, "For how long?"
I couldn't lie to him any more than I already had, "From the moment you started working with Steve," I watched as his facial expression changed from anger to disbelief.
"How could you keep something like this away from me for so long Y/N?" asked Sam.
"You said you'd tell me everything when I needed you most," Sam said looking directly at me. His voice filled with hurt and hatred.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because you were so excited to work with Steve and I didn't want to ruin that for you, but then once I saw on the news the attack on the bridge that day, I started doing my own digging, and that's when I found out. I wanted to tell you, but then you got into deep with him, and I couldn't bring myself to do it."
"I don't care, what was going on Y/N, you should have told me. You had plenty of time to tell me this Y/N/N."
"I'm sorry Sam," I apologized, I knew he wouldn’t care, but he needed to know that it wasn't the right time.
Sam closed his eyes and sighed deeply before opening them again, his gaze was soft, but held no warmth, "I think we need some time away from each other."
I stood there hurt running through me. I didn't say anything to change his mind, because I knew I couldn't do that.
"See you around," I said turning to walk out of the boat and to the car. I knew I wouldn't see him around anymore.
My heart felt like it was being ripped apart by the hands of the person I considered my friend and lover. I got into the car and drove home numbly, but now I know how he felt.
35 notes
·
View notes
𝑠𝑎𝑚 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑠𝑜𝑛
𝑡𝑜𝑢𝑐ℎ 𝑚𝑒
𝑚𝑒𝑒𝑡 𝑚𝑒 𝑎𝑡 𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑠𝑝𝑜𝑡
𝑡𝑜 𝑘𝑖𝑠𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑘𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑐𝑟𝑎𝑤𝑙𝑠 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑦𝑜𝑢
13 notes
·
View notes
SAM WILSON HEADCANONS
ABOUT HIMSELF
HIM AS A BROTHER
HIM AS A BEST FRIEND
HIM AS A FRIEND W FEELINGS/BENIFITS
HIM AS A BOYFRIEND
HIM AS A HUSBAND
HIM AS A FATHER
18+ HEADCANONS
13 notes
·
View notes