#sam Wilson x you

[late-to-the-party-81]

Guess what’s coming soon? 👀

Conclave Master List

You thought you'd been rescued by angels. It turned out they were demons. But what if you started to like being in hell?

This series is a Soft!Dark! Series and deals with adult themes

Not suitable for minors.

Find my main master list here

Behave 😭🍆🩸🌑

Here with us 😭🍆🌑

Loyaulte me Lie 😭🍆🌑

All for one and one for all 🍆🌑😭

Tit for tat 🍆🌑

[lives-in-midgard]

Steve: Why did you hit Sam?

Bucky: He made y/n cry.

Steve: Y/n always cries!

Y/n: That's not true. [starts crying]

Bucky: Steve what did you do!

[of-many-incorrect-quotes]

Bucky: *shyly* are you uncomfortable?

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

Bucky: *blushing* no

Sam:

Sam: I’m uncomfortable

[romanoffshouse]

Bucky: Y/N, what does IDK, ILY, and TTYL mean?

Y/N: I don’t know, I love you, talk to you later.

Bucky: Alright, I love you too, I'll ask Sam.

Y/N: Wait- Bucky , no-

[marvellover76]

Zemo: I had planned on tearing the Avengers apart from the inside out. Making them hate eachother as they remained oblivious to my intentions. Now I go after the Flagsmashers and the remains of the super soldier serum.

Sam: *horrified*

Bucky: *not even phased*

Zemo: *looks over at y/n* Turkish delight?

Y/n: *shrugs* sure why not.

[aquaticmercy]

The Future’s Overdue

Summary : A year after breaking up with Sam Wilson, he shows up at your doorstep.

Pairing : Cap!Sam Wilson x ex-avenger!reader (written with she/her in mind, but I don’t think there’s gendered language in this) 

Warnings/tags : mentions of violence and trauma, cursing. Mild alcohol consumption. Angst with a happy ending. 

Word count : 3.7K

Note : This fic was inspired by the song ‘Overcome’ by Nothing but Thieves. And of course the Brave New World trailer. That flight suit? Phew. When he sliced that truck in half?? Have mercy on me my god. I do have a couple of other requests for Sam but I have so many WIPs and series so please bear with me. Enjoy!

You first met Sam in Washington, when Steve realised Hydra was growing inside of S.H.I.E.L.D.

It was the day three helicarriers got shot out of the sky. 

You and Sam were initially just two operatives thrown in the mission together by coincidence— and a little persuasion on Steve Rogers' part. 

When the dust settled, you found a strange comfort in each other, a kind of trust that only comes from people who've survived the same battles together. It was a friendship— one you had with Steve and Nat, too.

But Sam was unlike anyone you’d ever met. He was compassionate without being naive, funny without sacrificing his strength, and fiercely loyal without ever being overbearing. Everyone in your line of work fought with anger or a sense of duty— and Sam did, too. But he also fought with his heart, with a passion and a clarity of purpose that earned an incredible amount of admiration from you. 

But it wasn’t until after Sokovia fell from the sky that you realised just how much he really meant to you. 

The battle against Ultron had been brutal, a mission that left you questioning everything you’d come to believe. 

You stood among the rubble, surrounded by your teammates, and yet you felt more alone than ever.

The realisation hit you: time was fleeting. You didn’t have forever, and you didn’t want to keep ignoring the one thing that had started to matter more than any mission you’d ever had.

So that night, you sought Sam out. The rest of the team had been decompressing, recovering, but you pulled Sam into a quiet spot away from the others, somewhere under the night sky, where the stars glimmered faintly against the smoke. You didn’t say much, just let the silence and the closeness speak for itself.

When he looked at you, something like affection flickered in his eyes, a hope that maybe he meant as much to you as you did to him. It was then that you closed the space between you and kissed him—gently, like he was made of glass.

In a way, he was. This life was fragile, and his was one you couldn’t bear to lose.

After that, you spent as much time together as you could manage. Between missions, you’d crave moments of normalcy. Walks in quiet parks, stolen weekend getaways, breakfasts cooked together in your shared apartment. 

These small, simple moments began to feel like home, like the life you’d never thought you could have. 

Then came the Sokovia accords. 

When you and Sam sided with Steve, you didn't realise how everything could go so wrong. 

Your world turned upside down again. You became a fugitive, a person without a country, constantly on the run, evading governments, ducking the scrutiny of former allies. Sam stayed by your side, fighting the same battle as you.

Despite the danger, despite the sacrifices, the exile only strengthened your relationship. He was your safe haven, the one person you trusted wholly. 

One night, as you sat together in some safe house with peeling wallpaper and torn furniture, you dared to voice the thought you’d been carrying for so long. 

"One day,” you said, almost hesitantly, “when we’re done running, when all of this is behind us… I want a real life, Sam. With you.”

He looked at you then, his smile one of equal parts sadness and hope. “Tell me more,” he murmured, smiling just a little. 

“I want to marry you,” you confessed, voice trembling. “I want a house. Somewhere no one can find us. I want a family, Sam.”

For a moment, he was silent, his thumb brushing along the back of your hand. “One day. When the world stops chasing us,” He pulled you close, his words a quiet promise against your ear. “I’ll give you all of that.”

For the first time in a long time, the future felt like something worth looking forward to. It felt like something you could actually touch, something just out of reach but waiting for you. 

His promise lingered: that once you were free, once you weren’t running anymore, you’d be able to build that life together.

But then came the Battle of Wakanda, and the life you had both fought so hard for vanished in an instant as you were both erased from existence, dusted away by Thanos’s snap. For five years, you were gone.

When you returned, everything had changed. The world was broken and scattered, When you looked at Sam, you saw it, too— the realisation that so much of everything was gone. How much of the world needed fixing.

And you knew your Sam. He would want to fix it.

You saw the responsibility that had been thrust upon him. You watched him take the shield, watched him step up in a way that was brave and selfless. Everything about this was so unmistakably Sam. Your Sam.

In that moment, you knew that the life you’d dreamed of, the one you’d whispered about in the dark, wasn’t possible— not when the world still needed him.

It broke you, knowing you had to leave, to walk away from the man you loved. But you both knew that your paths were diverging. You wanted peace, family, a quiet life that had no place in the shadow of Captain America’s legacy. And Sam, with Steve’s shield in his hands, couldn’t turn away from the fight. 

It happened on a quiet evening, back in the small apartment you shared. The shadows were long, stretching across the worn wood floors, as the last light of the day reached through the windows. 

Sam was sitting across from you, his hands folded on the table, and his face was set in an expression you’d come to recognize—the one he wore when he was carrying something too heavy to keep inside. You saw it in the slump of his shoulders, the way his usually loving gaze couldn’t quite meet yours. You reached out, caressing his arm.

Finally, you broke the silence. “Sam,” you said, voice wavering. “Are we okay?”

He looked up then, his eyes meeting yours, and the sorrow there was enough to make your chest tighten. “I don’t know,” he said quietly. “I don’t know if… if I can give you the life you deserve.”

The silence stretched on, thick and heavy, until finally, you pulled your hand from his. “Then we have to let this go,” you said, voice cracking with finality. “I can’t keep waiting for a life that isn’t going to happen.”

The look in his eyes was almost unbearable—regret, pain, and love all tangled together, raw and unguarded. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice thick. 

“I’m sorry, too,” you replied, your vision blurred

The first tear drawn came from him. “I’ll always love you,” he said, his voice a quiet, broken promise. 

You looked at him, feeling the truth of those words resonate in your lungs. You would always love him too, but love alone couldn’t bridge the gap between the lives you wanted. It was heartbreaking, knowing you’d finally found something so good, only to have it slip through your fingers.

You stood up, needing to move before you changed your mind, before you broke down completely. “Goodbye, Sam,” you whispered, barely able to get the words out.

“Goodbye,” he murmured, holding back everything he couldn’t say. He didn’t try to stop you, didn’t reach for you as you turned and walked toward the door. 

You both knew that if he did, you wouldn’t have the strength to walk away.

–

In the weeks after the breakup, you tried to convince yourself it would get easier, that the pain would fade. But the truth was, every day only sharpened the ache. It was clear that your lives were leading in opposite directions now, that Sam was destined for something larger than either of you had once imagined. 

He had the shield, the responsibility, the weight of a legacy that he hadn’t chosen but that fit him as naturally as if it were always meant to be his. 

And you? Well, after retiring, you finally had the quiet, the simplicity of a life you’d always craved, but it felt hollow without him.

You still loved him, of course. 

That was the hardest part.

There was no switch to flip, no way to undo the love that had grown in the depths of your heart. And he loved you too— you knew that as surely as you knew that the sun would rise tomorrow, the kind of knowledge you felt deep in your bones. 

But you both recognized that clinging to each other, seeing each other, would only deepen the hurt. So you made the hardest choice, cutting contact to give yourselves space to move forward, even if it felt like cutting out a piece of your heart.

You would go through your days thinking about Sam, feeling his absence as a phantom weight by your side. Sometimes, you’d catch yourself reaching for your phone, feeling the urge to share a thought, a joke, a memory— only to remember he was gone from your life now.

It was a loneliness harsher than any pain you’d felt before, and you've been shot at and stabbed multiple times. Sometimes, you couldn’t help but wonder if he felt it too— if he missed you as much as you missed him.

Months went by, and the world kept turning, but you could never fully escape him. And then one day, you saw him on the screen. It was in the news, footage of Sam at the Smithsonian, standing before the shield as he laid it down, offering it back. You watched in stunned silence as he walked away from the legacy Steve had entrusted to him. He looked so different from the man you’d known—tired, torn, and full of questions only he could answer. 

Still, you knew he’d only given up the shield, not the fight. There was still that fire in his eyes, that drive you knew he would never fully let go of. He was still your Sam, the man who couldn’t stop helping others even if it meant losing himself in the process.

Then came reports of his work with Bucky Barnes. You caught glimpses here and there: videos of Sam fighting, speeches to crowds, images of him standing strong and proud, still doing the work he believed in. Each clip, each mention of him in the newspapers you read was like reopening the wound, bittersweet in a way that only true love could be.

And then, one day, you saw him on the screen again—but this time, he was wearing the Captain America suit.

The shield sat on his back, the way it once had been with Steve.

His face was calm, resilient, and he carried himself with a confidence that you hadn’t seen in a long, long time. As he stood before a crowd, addressing the nation, his voice rang out strong and clear. He spoke of unity, of justice, of how much work still lay ahead.

There was something fiercely proud and unmoving in his stance, as if he had finally found a purpose that felt right, a cause he was willing to fight for as himself. 

The people around you could hardly believe it.

But you did. You always did.

As you watched him speak to the world, you felt your heart swell with pride. He finally stepped into a role he was born for, embracing everything that came with it— the good and the bad. You felt a deep, overwhelming admiration for him— the same one you had felt all those years ago. 

The man you love had found his calling. He had finally stepped into the legacy he’d once doubted. And though he was miles away, speaking to millions of people, it felt as if he was speaking to you. It felt as if he were telling you, Look, I made it. I found my place.

—

It had been over a year since you’d last seen Sam in person. But then, you heard a knock—a familiar rhythm, one you'd both come up with in those times of hiding, a signal you’d memorised to mean ‘it’s safe to open the door.’

Suddenly, all those buried memories resurfaced. You took a deep breath and walked up to the entrance, fingers trembling ever so slightly. 

When you opened the door, he was there. 

He stood tall, carrying an air of quiet confidence that you had missed.

“Hey,” he said softly, that deep warmth in his eyes settling on you like it always had. “I know you’re retired, but I… I need your help.” He hesitated, shifting his weight, a hand rubbing the back of his neck. “This mission… there’s something I just can't figure out. Tactical consulting, just advice, you know.”

Your heart gave a painful thud, torn between the part of you that had finally let yourself step back and the part that had always been drawn to Sam’s gravity. There was something in his eyes, in the way he looked at you—was it hope? Regret?

“Come on in,” you said, your voice surprisingly steady.

Once inside, you cleared space at your kitchen island, pulling out blueprints and maps from him and laying them between you. The small counter seemed even smaller with Sam standing across from you, leaning close as he unfurled more documents. The scent of his cedar aftershave filled your home in a way that felt so heartbreakingly familiar. You poured the both of you a glass of wine.

It didn't take long for you to settle into the rhythm. Soon, you were bouncing ideas back and forth, memories and laughs slipping through the cracks as you strategized, just like old times. You caught yourself chewing on the back of your pen—an old habit that Sam had always found adorable—as you debated where each exit and entrance might be. When it came time to relay the guard rotation, Sam scrunched his nose in that familiar way that always meant he was uncertain. You couldn’t help but smile, reminded of countless memories just like this one.

As the hours passed, you felt yourself relaxing, dropping your guard bit by bit. You found yourselves laughing over old missions, sharing stories of close calls and narrow escapes. When Sam’s hand brushed yours as he reached for a pen, there was a tension there that you couldn’t ignore, something that had always been effortless between you.

Then, as he raised his glass for another sip, his gaze landed on the roses on your counter— a fresh vase of red roses, bold and out of place in your otherwise grounded kitchen. He paused, frowning slightly.

“Red roses?” he asked, glancing back at you, a surprised smile lifting his lips. “You don’t like them. You always preferred pink ones.”

You felt a small pang of sadness, realising that after all this time, he remembered that small detail, one that even you’d almost forgotten. 

“I didn’t buy them,” you replied, trying to keep your tone casual. “A date brought them over. A couple of days ago.”

The words fell into the awkward silence between you. For a second, you saw the surprise flicker across his face. “You’re… dating again?” he asked, almost in disbelief.

“Yeah, well…” You gave a light laugh, trying to brush it off, “had to fill the void you left somehow.”

It was meant to be a joke, but the words cut deeper than you’d meant it to.

He looked down, fingers trailing the edge of his glass, lost in a thought he wasn’t ready to voice.

You wanted to break the tension, you had to. “What about you?” you asked, forcing a smile. “I mean, look at you. You’ve got to be dating, Sam. Come on. You’re still the most handsome man I know.”

But he shook his head, his expression solemn. “No,” he said, his gaze fixed on the wine swirling in his glass. “I guess I just haven’t moved on.”

The words struck you like a lightning strike, filling the room with a tension neither of you could ignore. For a moment, the breaths you took felt too thick, too charged. You watched him, studying his face, seeing a quiet pain etched into his expression as he finally looked up to meet your eyes.

He broke the long silence, his voice low. “Is he… good to you?”

You let out a shaky breath.  “He’s… he’s alright. We’ve only been on a couple of dates. It's not like we’re… exclusive or anything.” You paused, trying to find the words to explain. “He’s a nursery teacher. Sweet, good with kids.... But nothing serious.”

Sam nodded, a faint, bittersweet smile touching his lips. “Good with kids, huh?” his voice was filled with an ache that twisted in your chest. “Just like you always wanted.”

You felt a wave of frustration and sadness rise up. “Yeah,” you replied softly, almost to yourself, before you could stop. “But he’s not…”

The words caught in your throat, but Sam didn’t let you off easy. He leaned closer, his eyes searching yours with an intensity that took your breath away, “He’s not… what?”

“He’s not you, Sam,” you whispered, the words spilling out before you could take them back. And you didn’t want to.

Something broke in him— relief, pain, and longing all at once. Without a word, he reached across the counter, his fingers finding yours. He walked around the kitchen island, sitting on the stool next to yours. His skin was warm as he closed the distance between you. His hand moved up, cupping your face as his eyes traced over you, like he was taking in every detail, every piece of who you were now.

You were still you. But you had grown without him. You had found your peace, just like you always wanted.

He leaned in, and his lips brushed yours in a  trembling kiss.

The moment he felt you return it— the moment he felt the familiar force of your kiss, he deepened it. His hands slid into your hair, pulling you close, desperate to feel you, to make up for all the lost moments he had to go through without you.

When he finally pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours, his breath warm on your skin. 

The kiss had left both of you shaken to your core.

Sam’s hands were still on your face, his thumbs brushing along your cheeks, making sure you were real, and that this wasn't just one of his dreams about you. He searched your eyes, looking for something to reassure him this was more than a moment of weakness.

“We can do this,” he whispered, his voice raw, almost frantic. He believed now, he needed to make you believe, too. “Clint—Clint made it work, right? A family, a life— he did it. He’s raising kids and still comes back when we need him. We’ll talk to him. I’ll ask him, I’ll ask him anything, I’ll do whatever it takes.”

He swallowed, his breath shallow, his desperation pulling him closer to you. “If that’s not enough, if this— if me being Captain America is what’s in the way, then I’ll… I’ll give it up. Just say the word. I swear, I’ll give it all up if that’s what you need. None of this—none of it means a damn thing without you.”

The words hit you hard, more sincere than anything else you’d ever heard him say. You saw the same unwavering love in his eyes, but this time it came with a willingness to do anything, sacrifice anything, to make room for you in his life.

It terrified you because you knew he meant every single word. 

You closed your eyes, finally feeling the burn of tears that you barely managed to hold back. You reached up to hold his face, your fingers brushing along his jawline.

“No, Sam,” you said, your voice shaking but unbreakable in its resolve. “You’re not giving up the shield for me. I’ve seen you out there. I’ve watched you bring people together. And I… I can’t be the reason you walk away.”

He shook his head, his eyes pleading. His breath came quicker. It was moments like this when you realised that he was human. Not a super soldier. Not enhanced. 

He was human with an unnatural resilience.

“But if this is the only way to have you—”

You can’t help but interrupt him, before he dug himself a fantasy so deep that he would struggle to get out of it. You closed the small gap between you, kissing him again. His arms wrapped around you instinctively, holding you like he never wanted to let go. You could feel the tremor in his hands, the way his breath hiccuped, so close to breaking. When you pulled away, you pressed your forehead to his, calming his silent pleas.

“Listen to me,” you whispered. “You are Captain America. That’s a part of you, and I would never forgive myself if I took that. But that doesn’t mean we have to give this up,” you added, willing him to understand. “I want to try again.”

He closed his eyes, taking a deep, shuddering breath. For the first time in a year, he was letting himself hope again. “You’re sure?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper, vulnerable in a way you’d never heard before.

“Yes,” you said, your voice steady, filled with a conviction you hadn’t felt in years. “I want you back.”

The relief on his face, the gratitude, was like sunlight breaking through a storm. He leaned in, pressing a kiss to your forehead, and then another to your lips, softer, filled with a tenderness you had missed so damn much.

“I’m all in,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “I don’t care what it takes. We will make this work.”

As you nodded, he lifted you into his arms, spinning you around. For the first time in a year, your giggles filled your quiet kitchen. When he set you down, his gaze landed on the flowers once again.

“First on the agenda,” he said, smiling mischievously, “we’re getting rid of those damn red roses. I’ll get you pink ones tomorrow.”

You laughed through happy tears as he pulled you to the couch, the mission he had come to consult you for forgotten, even if only for tonight.

You watched him leave the blueprints behind to spend time with you, when he would’ve been obsessing over a year ago. This time, you felt a conviction that he was right— that it would work.

This time, he was willing to compromise. And so were you.

-end.

[anonymityisfunwriter]

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

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

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

i'll take care of you.

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

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

"You look like hell."

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

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

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

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

You softly grunt in objection, "No."

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

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

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

"Sam..." you grumble.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"The door," Sam cheekily replies.

"It was locked."

"I may or may not have a key."

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

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

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

"Just let me take care of you."

"You don't have to."

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

"I hate you."

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

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

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

Anon's 1K Celebration Sam Wilson Masterlist AnonymityIsFun Masterlist

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

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

[megamindsecretlair]

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

[fluffyprettykitty]

SELENE‼️‼️U AND UR DIRTY (and super talented may i add) MIND ARE GONNA BE THE DEATH OF ME😵‍💫😵‍💫

i saw ur ✨dbf!sam✨ post yesterday... so imma add fuel to the fire... and suggest *drumroll*

sugardaddy!sam😏

Warnings: oral sex, daddy kink, age gap, oral fixation, penetration, pretty much everything. if I missed anything major please let me know!

WC: 900 words

Author’s Note: thank you and sorry, this took a while sweet nonnie but it's here several heatwaves later & onto winter! still accepting requests for any sam wilson au particularly!

Main Masterlist ・❥・ Sam Wilson Masterlist

Sugar daddy Sam is a bit older than you, very confident in himself, loves showcasing his love at any second, and never hesitates to present you as his woman.

He loves to gift you things, of course, he loves learning each and every unique trait that represents to you to better determine what you need. He loves to say that every want and a whim is actually a need so he never hesitates at all.

Besides getting you a whole new wardrobe for each one of your dates, (Because you need to change at least four times to know what you look good in the most) completely set with shoes and jewelry and booked nail and hair appointments, a driver with fancy limousine waiting outside your house for as long as you need, he also likes giving you a big bouquet of flowers.

Once you complain that you don't have enough vases, he starts moving on to plants. Suddenly your garden is the prettiest in the whole neighborhood.

He has so many nicknames for you, sugar, love, baby girl, sunshine, and yet his favorite one is when he calls you a good girl when you are struggling to take all of his cock inside you. No matter how many times he has done that he still finds a little trouble going too deep. Only when you whine and beg that you can do it does he let himself loose.

Now he is a busy man, so he always makes sure to coordinate your schedules to spend as much as you need but also to make sure that he doesn't demand way too much of you. He knows that the time you dedicate to him is a privilege for him. He respects your job and your love for your family, he would never want to have you only living and breathing for him. So for every holiday, he books holidays for you and your family to take you all on.

He always takes his time to dote on you, a weekend getaway here or there, a day trip down to the beach, or the rooftop of a hotel booked exclusively just for the pair of you. He likes an inside pool just as much as he likes an outside one.

His favorite memory to keep through a busy day is the image of him on to you, his chain hanging above your lips, with sweat dripping down from both of your bodies as he pounds hard inside, your breasts vibrating just for him, he has thought of asking you to get nipple piercings many times but he still hesitates a little to ask you confidently.

He dreams of his fingers inside your mouth as you are sitting comfortably next to him on his velvet couch and he always misses you when you are not around.

He keeps little reminders of you on him all the time, besides love bruises. He loves keeping a necklace you got him for his birthday with your initials tucked underneath his chains. He has your name written on his cuff links, and he keeps a pair of your panties inside the pocket of his dress suit to remind him what he can return to after a long day.

Now each morning he texts you good morning without fail, he calls you when he knows you're getting ready for work, and he tries not to distract you too much but sometimes you end up being late for work, that's what happens when your phone has such a nice camera on it and his voice just sounds sweet and sensual like that.

Most of all he is a giver, when he's with you, he wants to spend his time worshipping you, asking you how much you love him as his tongue stays close to your pussy lips while his fingers caress your skin. He loves taking his sweet time eating you out only to relax you, and because as he says it's much easier for you to focus on anything with two orgasms drawn from out of you.

Sam always smiles whenever you call him daddy outside of the bedroom setting, he loves knowing you love him this much. His favorite moniker and the only thing that makes him harder at any given second. He loves tracing your lips with his fingers as you sweetly tell him about your day and he always listens, there's no piece of information that he ever forgets.

From diamond bikinis to expensive lingerie, to luxurious faux fur with nothing underneath, he never seems uninterested, in anything you do, or anything you wear, he likes them all as long as it's you and what you want.

And when he gets a little too frustrated at work he doesn't hesitate to call you for some sort of emotional or sensual relief and whenever you are available to get whisked away to his apartment or his office he makes sure to reward you in every way possible.

And he shows up to your house the day you've decided to deep clean everything, he takes off his shirt and helps you with everything. Never was afraid to get a little dirty.

If you want to be notified about my future stories please follow my library blog @fluffyprettykittylibrary and turn on notifications!

[pixiexdusts-world]

Incorrect quote

Bucky: What does ‘take out’ mean?

Steve: Food.

Sam: Date.

Natasha: Murder.

Y/n: IT CAN MEAN ALL THREE IF YOU’RE NOT A COWARD!

[super-marvel-dc]

Y/N: I’m gonna die alone.

Sam: Y/N, you’re not gonna die alone.

Y/N: Tony, was my safety net, okay? He got married and now I have to get a snake.

Sam, dialing Bucky: Uh-huh. Why is that?

Y/N: If I’m gonna be an old lonely person, I’m gonna need a thing, you know? A hook. Like that guy in the subway who eats his own face.

Y/N: So I figured I’ll be “Crazy Person With A Snake”, you know? Crazy snake person.

Y/N: Then I’ll get more snakes, call them my babies. Kids won’t walk past my place, they will run! RUN AWAY FROM CRAZY SNAKE PERSON!

Sam, on the phone with Bucky: Uh, I'm gonna need you to bring the straight jacket-

Y/N: *Still ranting*

Sam: Now would be great.

[winters-hysteria]

Sam: L is for the way you look at me

Loki: 0 is for the only one I see

Tony: V is very, very extraordinary

(y/n): E is for everyone shut the fuck up it's 2am go to bed before I kill you all

[buckyalpine]

Okay so my cousin is looking for a fic that she was reading but she can't remember what it is. Here is the highly detailed, very very specific description she typed out:

Bucky and Steve are in the middle of some smutty fun. The reader sees them, and Sam then engages with the reader while both of them watch Bucky and Steve.

...the roles may not be accurate - i.e. it may have been Bucky and Sam together and the reader and Steve watching...

I cannot for the life of me think of anything but if any of you have read something like this or could recommend anything similar please let me know, we will love you forever <3

[romanoffshouse]

[Steve and Sam texting]

Steve: Bucky is in court right now. :(

Sam: And I broke my leg. Why is he in court?

Steve: Bucky hit someone with his car by accident but I don't know who.

How did you break your leg?

Sam: Someone hit me with their car.

Steve: Oh

[lunarbuck]

Kinktober Week 1: Phone Sex

header: @jen-with-a-pen

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

Word Count: 692

Prompt: Phone Sex

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

my masterlist | kinktober masterlist | @lunarbucklibrary

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ll be home soon, baby. Promise.”

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

[wwilsonbarness]

don't tell my boyfriend, it's not what he's made for

pairings:  sam wilson x reader

summary: you try hide your bad days from Sam but he knows you too well. (Based on What Was I Made For by Billie Eilish.)

warnings: depression, mention of bad relationship with parents, angst, fluff, sam being the best boyfriend. I think that's it?

word count: 1559

a/n: my first Sam fic YAY! 

Feedback, likes and reblogs are much appreciated :) 

I do not give permission for my work to be copied, reposted or translated on any other platform.

masterlist

It’s been 3 days since you last saw Sam, not because he was on a mission or fighting a giant purple-thumb looking alien but because you couldn’t bring yourself to let him see you the way you are right now. 

Things had been tough since you graduated college, you had your degree, you’d done everything your parents had asked of you, but you’d never really done anything that you wanted. Your parents didn’t seem to care what you did now, you’d gotten your degree, you’d moved to the city, you’d got away. They’d “done their job” they told you, but what were you meant to do now.

That’s what has been on your mind the last few months and all the stress has finally caught up with you. You weren’t leaving the house, you were hardly eating, you hadn’t seen your friends in weeks. Then there was Sam, you’d been pretending to be okay around him, and it was killing you. You couldn’t do it anymore so you’d been avoiding him, first not going to his apartment, then cancelling plans, and now avoiding his text messages. It only made you feel worse but you couldn’t let him see you this way. He’d probably break up with me. 

You had bags under your eyes from the 2 hours of sleep you were getting each night, your eyes were red and irritated by the countless tears that had fallen from them. You hadn’t showered since you last saw Sam and that was only because he surprised you with a picnic in the park. 

You’d tried to enjoy that day but all you wanted was to lay in bed and cry, to forget about everything else. But more than anything you wanted Sam, wanted him to hold you, to tell you everything would work out, but that couldn’t happen. You couldn’t have him realise what a mess you were, you couldn’t risk him leaving you. 

So that’s how you ended up here, curled up into a ball in the dark on your sofa, crying quietly into your blanket and ignoring the feeling of a slight buzz from your phone beside you. You didn’t know who it was and quite frankly at this point you didn’t care. It had been like this since you woke up, you have no idea how long it’s been, and you had no intention of finding out. That would make you feel worse, knowing you’d wasted another day. You had no intention of moving at all, and that didn’t change when you heard a knock at your door. Just leave it, they’ll go away soon. But they didn’t, they kept knocking and knocking, until Sam’s voice came through the hard wood. His warm and gentle voice being the only thing breaking your almost comatose state. 

“Y/N? I know you’re in there, please I just need to see that you are okay. Please?” You felt your heart break as his voice cracked with his last word.

You freeze at first, not knowing what to do. If you didn’t answer you were 90% sure he would kick your door down. So you did the only thing you could do and walked slowly towards the door, cracking it open slightly, not even removing the chain. 

His head fly’s up from the spot he was staring at on the ground when he hears your door creak open. 

“Hi Sam.” 

“Y/N,” He goes to push the door open only to be met with the resistance of the chain. “Can you open the door properly? Please?” 

You don’t really want to let him into your depressive bubble but at the same time you wanted him, his warmth against your skin, the smell of his cologne that always made you feel safe. So you nod slightly and remove the chain. 

He immediately steps in and pulls you towards him. Your head finds its usual spot against his chest and his warmth seeps into you which instantly makes you feel a little bit lighter. 

“Thank god.” Sam sighs in relief as he wraps his arms around you, bringing his left hand up to the back of your head to cup it slightly. “I thought something had happened to you when you didn’t answer your phone all day, I was so worried about you baby.” 

All day? You had no clue that much time had passed, and now you were angry at yourself for worrying Sam, he doesn’t deserve all this. He deserves someone better. 

You start to feel your eyes burning as more tears threaten their escape. “I’m sorry Sammy.” 

“Hey, none of that, okay? You wanna tell me what’s going on?” 

Sam had kind of guessed what was happening, sure he mostly had experience working with Vets with PTSD, but he definitely knew the tell tale signs of depression. So when you started to pull away, and started acting not quite like yourself he had made sure to clear his schedule as much as he could to be there for you.

“I.. I don’t really know.”

“That’s okay baby. Can I stay with you for a bit?” 

You shake your head against his chest and start to pull away from him as it hits you how you look, how your apartment looks. Panic starts to overtake every other emotion already running though you. “Oh my god. The mess and I haven’t even- I look so gross and I didn’t-“ 

Sam cuts you off before you can spiral more. “Hey, take a breath. It’s okay.” 

“It’s not okay, nothing is okay anymore.” He guides you to the sofa gently and sits beside you, slightly turning himself in your direction. 

“Try and breathe for me, okay? In and out. Copy me.” You try to listen and copy his breathing. “That’s it, good girl. You're doing such a good job baby.” 

“I don’t know what to do anymore.” 

“What do you mean?” He replies, with a hint of confusion. 

You shake your head before continuing. “No, I don’t want to burden you Sam. You can leave if you want to, I’d understand.” You were so sure he’d leave, there was no way he could want to stay with you now. Right? Deep down you knew your brain was lying to you but you didn’t have it in you to fight what it was so easily telling you. 

“Baby,” He looks at you with pure concern and love in his eyes. “I’m not going anywhere, you can tell me what’s wrong, you can tell me anything.” 

You look down and start to play with your sleeves before you answer him. “It’s not what you’re made for, you don’t deserve to have to pick up all the pieces everytime I fall apart. You deserve someone who’s happy, and I…” You pause to try and figure out how to say what you are feeling. “I think I forgot how to be happy.” It comes out as an almost whisper, in fear of it chasing him away. 

Sam’s heart breaks hearing how you are feeling, he’s never felt this much love for someone or something before and wants nothing more than for you to be okay. He needs you to know how much you mean to him. 

“Y/N, look at me?” You shakily bring your eyes back up to him. “That’s exactly what I was made for, you’re everything to me and I want to help you in any way that I can. Who was there when I beat myself up for Karli’s death? You. Who picked me back up again when I worked myself too hard? You did. So please, let me help you. Let me in. I will be here to pick up every little piece of you for as long as you will have me.” 

The tears had managed to find an escape route now, and were freely rolling down your cheeks. You knew Sam loved you, he’d told you every chance he got and you hated that your brain could convince you otherwise.

“I love you Sam.” He brings his lips to your forehead and places a gentle kiss. 

“And I love you too, so much, and whenever you’re ready to talk, I’m here to listen, okay?” 

“Okay..” You weren’t ready to talk yet, you just wanted him. “Could you just hold me for now?” 

“Of course, anything you want.” 

He lays back on the sofa and brings you into his lap. Your head finds its place in his chest again, seeking his warmth. Things were silent for a few moments, each of you soaking up the feeling of being close with one another, until your stomach rumbling broke the silence. 

“Baby?” he asks gently but concerned. 

“Hmm?” You know where this is going but you try to play innocent. 

“Have you eaten anything today?” You shake your head in embarrassment that you hadn’t managed to do that.

“Want me to order something in?” You nod against him. “The usual?” 

“‘Mhmm. Can you get some of the-“ 

“Chocolate dumplings.” You say together which makes you both laugh, your first real laugh in a while and it feels nice. 

“How could I not?” Sam says as he playfully rolls his eyes. “But until there’s a knock at the door I’m not letting go of you.” He squeezes you extra tight to show you he’s not kidding.