It all starts with kisses, soft at first, scattered between your cheeks, your jaw, your lips. He's on top of you in bed, his body warm and swaying, pressed against yours as if he's afraid to let go. The moment is innocent… until it isn't. His hand slips under your shirt, his mouth opens on yours, and then he moves his hips—barely—enough for both of you to feel that desperate friction.
His breath catches in his throat instantly. You notice how he tenses, how his fingers freeze for a second as he realizes what he's doing.
"I'm sorry," he whispers, his voice choked. "I wasn't... I didn't mean to."
But when your legs wrap around him tighter and you pull him closer, Peter lets out a soft moan, resting his forehead on your shoulder.
"It's just… I like you too much," he admits, in that shy tone that always comes out when something is too much for him. "I don't want to ruin this."
But he doesn't. After you encourage him to continue, he moves carefully, as if afraid the moment might break, searching for a rhythm that won't take you out of it; that won't feel rushed.
"Is this okay?" he asks, looking at you with those eyes full of tenderness, of nerves, of suppressed desire.
You nod. And the sigh he lets out is almost shaky. His body adapts to yours again, and though everything is soft, there's urgency in every touch, in every kiss, in the way he melts against you. Totally and utterly yours.
With Bob, everything is silence and depth. It's late, the light is dim, and the two of you embrace slowly, unhurriedly. You're on his lap, straddling him, while you kiss intensely. Being with you has become like a drug for him; he constantly seeks to forget his troubles by sinking into your lips, caressing you as if the answer to all his problems were etched against your skin.
Nothing is rushed. Every brush of his hips seems to seek something more than pleasure: closeness, connection, relief. He lets out a soft moan when you align yourself right where he burns, even though all the clothes are still between you.
His hands hold you gently, running over your back, your ribs, your thighs. He takes his time, trying to memorize as much of you as possible.
He doesn't speak much during these moments, but every gesture of his says what he can't. How much he needs this. How much he needs you.
His mouth finds your neck, warm and open, but there’s no softness to it. It’s not sweet. It’s hungry. The pace quickens. His body presses harder against yours, his restraint slipping with every movement. He’s chasing something now—release, control, a moment of stillness inside the chaos of wanting you.
“I love you, baby. I swear I couldn’t worship anyone but you.”
He trembles as the wave hits him, burying his face in your shoulder like the sound of his own confession is too much.
It all starts off quietly. You're on top of him, on the couch, playing, pushing him, and his firm hands on your waist keep you right where he wants you. You move your hips once—playfully—and his smile cracks instantly.
"Oh, yeah?" he says, his voice low, his eyes blazing.
The joke barely lasts a second longer. Joaquín sits up a little, his hands sliding down your sides to your lower back, holding you tighter. He keeps you still against him, but you resist just to provoke him, moving again.
"Don't do that," he warns you in a tense whisper, his forehead now on your neck.
"This?" you repeat, rubbing yourself against him again deliberately, feeling the pressure between you grow.
The moan that escapes him is brief, but raw. His fingers dig into your skin.
“Don't play games if you don't want this to end badly,” he says, staring at your lips with a mixture of hunger and frustration.
Your movements become slower, more steady. The friction disarms him. He grits his teeth, throws his head back for a moment, and then presses his forehead back to yours, breathing heavily.
“You're going to drive me crazy.”
His hands slide under your shirt, less gently now. He lifts you barely to push you back against him, seeking you, wanting you, without needing another word.
And when his lips find yours, there's nothing to slow the rhythm or the intention. It's desire, pure and unadorned. He wants you, now, like this, on top of him, no matter what.
You're cooking, the stove on and the ingredients already in motion, when you hear him enter the kitchen. You don't look up at first—you're used to him wandering around, in your pajamas, looking for something to snack on before dinner is ready.
But this time is different.
Johnny stops right behind you and, without saying anything, places his hands on your hips. His body is tense, pressed against yours, and it's impossible not to notice the persistent erection brushing against your ass.
"Sorry," he murmurs against your neck, his voice thick with suppressed desire. "I took a nap and woke up like this. I don't know what's wrong with me today."
His tone isn't a real apology. It's a warning. He gently leans you back onto the counter, clumsily shifting a few things, without removing your clothes, seeking nothing more than the immediate relief of having you near.
His movements are instinctive, his breathing quickening as his hips begin to move against you, seeking friction. A slow, steady, deliberate rhythm.
He asks if you're okay, and when you hum a nod, he doesn't stop. The tension grows with every movement of his hips against yours, with every ragged breath he lets out against your neck.
There's no nudity, but you feel everything. The touch is so precise that your fingers end up gripping the edge of the counter as he moves behind you, as if he can't stop.
After a few minutes, his body trembles. And from the way his grip suddenly tightens, from the way his movements become erratic for a moment before stopping, you know he came.
His forehead rests on your shoulder as he exhales a low, long, suppressed moan. His ragged breath fills the kitchen, and then he laughs softly against your skin, a sound stifled by both embarrassment and relief.
"I promise to make it up to you later," he adds, barely brushing your lips with his.
Warnings: reader has to give a lap dance to a suspect but not for long/slight non consensual touching, if you’re under 18 and you’re here even after the 29 other days of me saying go away....go away!!!
Summary: A mission at a strip club goes a bit awry. Sam refuses to let you leave his sight. Things ensue.
Kinktober Masterlist
“I just don’t understand why, out of everyone, you had to be the one to come on this mission,” Sam seethed. You rolled your eyes and threw back the shot of vodka without preamble. Bucky was somewhere off near the stages, watching with careful eyes. Normally, you were just a remote analyst who watched over their missions from afar.
But this time, you were up close and personal.
They needed someone that matched your description to entice the likes of a certain arms dealer who was currently under investigation for trafficking mutants. He also favored high end strip clubs.
Hence, you in a full crystalline body suit and sky high platform heels.
You shot Sam an unimpressed look as you passed him. “I know I’m not your favorite person, Wilson, but I would appreciate it if you were less of a dick right now.”
Barnes chuckled over the comms line. “She’s right, Sam. You look good, by the way.”
“Thanks, frosty.” You worried at your bottom lip, your teeth digging into the lipstick that painted your lips. Before you could express your nerves, a hand landed on your bicep.
“New girl, right? You’ve been requested in a VIP room.” The club promoter tugged you behind him and to a door on the far wall. You glanced back at Sam, seeing him follow you closely. You weren’t field trained. Hell, you weren’t trained in anything but computers. If this guy found that you were wearing a wire, you would be as good as dead.
The promoter pushed you into a small room. There was a platform in the middle of the room with two couches facing it. You gulped and tried to not let your nervousness show as you stepped onto the dais. You weren’t supposed to perform! You were just supposed to lead the guy away from the crowd so Sam and Bucky could grab him.
The door opened again and Sam slipped in the back. He wore a badge he must have snatched from one of the club bouncers indicating that he was security. No one paid him any mind, but you glanced back at him. He dipped his chin in acknowledgment and your shoulders relaxed.
As much as the two of you butted heads, you knew Sam would never let anything happen to you.
Some song started playing that you vaguely recognized, but you took it all in stride. You spun slowly on the dais and shook your ass to the beat. This guy would want a lap dance, right? Fuck, well, here goes nothing.
“I’m dismantling the cameras, taking out the guards, and then I’ll meet you both in the room. That work?” Bucky asked over the comms.
“Hurry,” Sam replied. His voice was strangled in your ear and you surreptitiously looked over your shoulder in his direction to find his gaze locked firmly on you.
Slipping one sleeve down, you shimmied out of the top of your bodysuit to reveal the lace bra and panties underneath. You tugged at the sheer fabric of the bodysuit and felt it tear away from your skin as you slowly approached the arms dealer who was spread out on the couch. You sank into a crouch in between his legs and gazed up at him from under your lashes. He grinned, his hand coming up to touch your cheek.
“How much longer?” Sam snarled.
“Just a second,” Bucky grunted.
You pulled away, your hands going to your back to the clasps that held your lacy bra. You released the clasps to the constant mantra of “it’s for the job” playing in your head. Just as the bra fell to your feet, the door burst open and the Winter Soldier marched towards the leering man on the couch. Bucky knocked the guy out with a clean punch as you scrambled to grab your bra from where it puddled on the ground.
“Get him out of here,” Sam snapped. He had moved from where he had been leaning against the wall and now stood in front of you, holding out the leather jacket he was wearing. You accepted it gratefully and pulled it on so it covered most of your torso.
“This is exactly why I didn’t want you on this mission,” he grunted.
You pulled the lapels of the jacket close to hide your body from view. “Was I really that bad?”
Sam turned his sharp gaze on you and the molten burning in his eyes sucked the air out of the room. “No, you were perfect. That’s the problem.”
He started after Bucky and then paused, glancing over his shoulder. Sam raised his hand, extending a metaphorical olive branch and a physical offer of safety when you two walked through the club. You tentatively grasped his hand and he tugged you closer, his warm and steady form pressing against yours.
“The next time I see you like that, baby girl, it’s because you want to.”
“That a promise, Wilson?”
His hand drifted down to the curve of your waist and he pulled you closer, leaving a burning wake along your skin where he touched. “One I intend to keep.”
“Hi, yeah, less flirting, more extracting,” Bucky interrupted over the comms. You snickered and followed Sam out of the club, eager to get back home.
warnings: SMUT (p in v), choking, light daddy kink, unprotected sex, pet name (babygirl), degradation kink
words: ~350
a/n: this is for @samwilsonsbabymama 💕 you didn't ask for this but your post about mean!Sam inspired me lol hope you like it!
a/n pt2: this is unedited stream of consciousness so if you see any errors, no you didn't :)
18+ BLOG, MINORS DNI. IF YOU INTERACT AND YOU DON’T HAVE YOUR AGE VISIBLE ON YOUR BLOG YOU WILL BE BLOCKED. 18+ BLOG, MINORS DNI.
(straight into smut under the cut)
"Filthy lil slut. Taking this cock so well. You were made to take cock, huh princess?"
Sam's hands squeeze tighter around your hips in a punishing grip with every thrust. You can barely breathe with your face pressed into the mattress like this but you don't give a fuck. He can pound out every last breath from your lungs and you'd still say thank you.
Your hands curl in the sheets below you in an imitation of reaching out for him. Desperate to touch any inch of his sweats slick skin. But he'd never allow it.
"You wanna get pounded like a whore? Whores don't get to touch. You're gonna bend over and take Daddy's fat cock. Now."
God only knows if he's kept you on your knees like this for minutes or hours or days. You've come around his cock so many times you lost count. But Sam doesn't care. He's taking what's his. What you were so fucking desperate to give him.
And it's still not enough. You're begging for his release inside you. Begging for the cream he's been churning up just for you in his heavy sac that beats a cruel rhythm against your clit.
"You want me to fill this cunt up, babygirl? You think you deserve Daddy's load in this hot little pussy?"
He pulls you up to his chest by your throat as you scream that yes, yes you deserve it. You want it so bad you're crying for it, your tears running down your face as proof.
"That's it," his hips stutter in eagerness when he sees those pretty little tears. He growls low in your ear and pounds harder. His other hand falls from your hip to work two fingers furiously over your clit. Giving you all he's got and then some as he pumps his hot load deep, coating your walls as you fall with him, the feeling of his release pushing you over the edge one last time.
He lays both of you down, curling his arms around you in a tight embrace.
"Did such a good job, babygirl. My perfect little girl."
Author's note: sorry that this isnt the whole part. I thought if you're thirsty, drink!
part 1: Soul Food:
...
You were huddled on the couch in Zemo's place after the shenanigans that was the Madripoor visit. You didn't think it would hit you tonight, you thought you still had time. But here you were, holed up on the couch, clutching Bucky's red Henley and one of Sam's Underarmor shirts he wears when he goes running.
it was the middle of the night and you didn't feel like waking up your two Alpha co-workers. You'd always felt that giddy little spark when you were around Bucky and Sam. Your heat was hitting hard this time, probably because you still hadn't been mated and deep down you knew who your Alphas were. Your body was absolutely begging for them, and only them.
your jaw clenched down from the pain and the need getting worse as you thought about them. You wanted to bite down on Bucky's Henley but you didn't want your fangs to make holes in the fabric. You writhed and twisted onto your side, face burying into the couch biting with desperation as slick dampened your sweatpants.
You were lucky Zemo was a loud snorer, for now they'd hide your moans and barely controlled whimpers. You'd practically drowned yourself in Scent blockers. As the current heat-cramp left you, you released your fangs from the fabric. Shit! I put holes in the Rich-Bitches' couch.
Alphas! Please! I need you, both of you! Knot me! You'd whined at the thought of having them inside you, their knots filling you up with that special kind of pressure. Feeling them locked inside you, finally becoming whole. You tossed and turned rummaging through your bag on the floor next to your poor excuse for a nest on some Baron's couch. You'd found your scent blocking spray and shook it to see how much you had left. Fuck me! It's damned near gone!
Your eyes clenched together as a second wave came burning into you, as if someone was striking your womb with a smoldering cattle prod.
You felt a calloused palm gently caress your hand. It startled you, you opened your eyes to see Sam in front of you, his eyes studying you and your state. He tugged the bottle of scent blocker gingerly from your grasp. He took your hand and dotted sweet kisses into the back of your palm purring into your skin, like he was satisfying a long abandoned need. You didn't really expect this kind of gentlemanly demeanor from him. It was a side you'd never seen before.
"We didn't mean to startle you, 'Mega." Sam said flipping your arm to reveal your wrist pressing it to his soft lips sighing as he took in your sweet floral scent. We? You thought before lifting your gaze to see Bucky staring at your heated face, all red and flushed. He was savoring the way you looked, committing it to memory. You moaned lightly as Sam began to kiss, suck, and nibble on your scent gland gripping your hand looking small in his. You felt more slick seep from you, Sam and Bucky's eyes flitted to your center, as if they were watching your slick drip from you like sap on a maple tree.
"Let us take care of you, Omega. Y/N so beautiful. Our Doll." Bucky's deep timber of a voice praising you as his hand smoothed the roundness of your cheek. You were perfectly entranced in their siren's song. Bucky's tongue dipped into your mouth as you moaned from Sam's continuous teasing. The soft touch of Sam and Bucky's deepening kisses was sending you into the stratosphere. Sam was growing impatient and let his hand snake down your leg and drag back up slowly to reach your inner thigh. Sam was still sucking on your scent gland diligently. Sam dotted kisses up and down your inner thigh, making you gasp and moan into Bucky's lips.
Bucky broke his kiss to take another look at you. He smiled lightly down at you, his eyes momentarily flitting to meet Sam's gaze. Another wave of heat-cramps began making you wince. The two Alpha's scents were mixing into your bloodstream and working to quell your heat. Your hand reached up to meet Bucky's flesh hand, your fingers interlocking.
Sam shifted to sit between your legs, wrapping them around his torso, his large hands smoothing your soft skin behind your upper thighs. He was being so gentle with you. Bucky was more of the rough one however, both of them were treating you with such passion. You panted and whimpered from their touches and scents and everything you thought they were but much more. A tightness formed in your center, a mix of pain and awaiting pleasure.
"Alphas. Is this real?? Ugh! Please tell me I'm not d-dreaming. I need your-your knots. Sam. J-James." Your voice came out in slurs, love drunk from their scent and your heat overwhelming you. Sam's hands reached up and under you to gently grip the globes of your ass, his lips coming down to pepper very gentle kisses over your womb.
"It's so real, Peach. God, wanna knot you so good. Gonna make your pain go away." Sam's voice deepened, ending in a low purr. Bucky and Sam stopped momentarily, letting you clear your mind a bit. They were anxious and waiting for you. You panted and you knew they wanted you to give your consent in a sober manner. Or at least as sober as possible with your heat in full swing. Sam stroked the tops of your thighs admiring how beautiful you looked. Bucky kept holding your hand and rested his chin on the arm of the couch where your head was resting. Bucky nuzzled your head gently and purred more.
"Sam, Bucky. I know you've thought of me in the same way. I'm ready for you. For both of you. I give you my permission, knot me, claim me, mark me, make me yours." you said grinding your hips up to have some kind of contact with Sam's body. Sam pulled up your sleep shirt, his wet lips kissing the space just below your belly button.
Bucky chuckled as he kissed the side of your cheek, reaching down finding a spot on your neck to put his claim mark, he sucked, leaving hickies and licking at the spot seductively. Bucky's hands went underneath your shirt to cup your breasts still locked in the confines of your bra.
"Never heard sweeter words, Babe. Can't wait til these are swollen and you're round with our pups." Bucky said with a certain gruff that made your insides twitch. Bucky's hands tightened on your breasts, kneading them and you felt the pricking of sharp fangs on your upper shoulder close to your neck. You moaned out into the room. You felt Sam's hardened length desperately creating friction on your slicked up center. Clothing was absolutely stifling.
Sam extended one of his claws, sharp and dangerous, even more lethal behind his lustful eyes. He took your shirt and with a satisfying rip, he cut the fabric revealing your stomach with a naughty smirk. He growled as he dipped his head back down to your center, giving it a kiss and making sparks fly within you.
You were simply mesmerized by the way they were fine tuning you like a priceless antique instrument. Sam’s fingers hooked into the elastic band of your pajama shorts and he growled at your strong scent invading his senses. Agonizingly slow he pulled down the clothing dotting your fiery skin with kisses.Bucky caught your attention by brushing a lock of your hair out of your face, tucking it behind your ear, the metal of his left arm sending chills down your spine.
With his other hand he brought forth one of his claws, seeing just how sharp it was, was outstanding. The Super Soldier serum had affected that? Did it change his knot size too? You wondered and kind of hoped it was big and thick and powerful accompanied by a mammoth cock.
Bucky’s extended claw made fast work of your pajama top, severing the straps of your bra too. Your heart skipped a beat when you felt a firm pressure lapping at your core, the only thing preventing Sam from tasting you was your lacy underwear. The both of them were making your insides twitch. You were sure Sam could feel your sweet pussy calling for him. Sam growled and dragged his tongue across the thin fabric, finding your erect bud and taking great pleasure in nibbling on it.
You moaned out, the sound filling the room. You covered your mouth quickly, the thought of Zemo waking to the sounds of your love making was not pleasant. Bucky moved your hand as soon as your moan was exhaled. He wanted to get another taste of your velvety lips, so pink and sweet, especially when they were calling his name.
Sam hooked his fingers around the elastic of your underwear and tugged them down, a string of slick following them. Sam could barely control himself as it was. He was struggling to keep from pounding into you, now that your scent was practically wafting through the room.
You were unsure just who had who wrapped around who’s finger. Maybe it was all three of you, together, entranced in the other. Sam went down on you again, his mouth teasing up your sensitive thigh and to your raw core. You could feel his hot breath on yourself. You gasped in anticipation and squirmed, finding Bucky’s hand again. You lead his hand to knead your breast again, underneath the bra, making quick work to lose the garment. Sam dove into his dinner with pride. His nose tickling your clit in the sweetest way.
Bucky was starting to lose his control. Hungrily he raked his tongue across your breast, sucking in your nipple and playing with it, while his flesh hand kneaded the other. You could feel Sam chuckle into your core at Bucky’s need. Sam was happy that he was beginning to let himself go, let himself live. When was the last time he’d enjoyed a woman that in turn enjoyed him? Or had an intimacy to begin with? 90 years? That’s far too long.
Bucky’s fangs pricked at your perked nipple while Sam drank you in, Sam's eyes getting more and more love drunk on your sweet slick by each passing second. Sam grew more, hungry, more like a man starved. A once deprived man that now had the best feast imaginable served on a silver platter. He didn’t let one drop of your nectar escape. You moaned again out into the aether unable to control yourself. This time you didn’t care if the neighbors heard you.
Bucky growled low and possessive. He unlatched himself from your breast, something else taking up his attention. He disappeared for a quick moment. Your eyes curious to see where he’d gone. You reached out for his hand again, needing the warmth and that kind of gentle physical intimacy.
“I’m right here, Babe. Do, you, uh… want a taste?” He asked with a peculiar shyness. Here he was in pure sculpted adonal form. All you could do was stare, for a moment. You wondered if such a beautiful girth could fit. You gulped and nodded. Finding your insides twitching again from his proposal.
“C’mere Bucky. I want to taste you. You don’t have to be shy around me.” you said giving him that little shove he needed. Bucky mounted the couch, being sure to avoid putting any weight on you. Sam took hold of your thighs and anchored you to the couch, making sure you didn’t squirm out of his reach. He was enjoying himself too much at your slicked core. He loved the way your juices were dripping down his throat.
Bucky lined himself up at your mouth. You licked your lips and found yourself getting hungry for it, needing to please him in that vulnerable way. You looked up at him, doe-eyed and curious. You licked gingerly. His precum coating your mouth, tasting of him and his scent. It was a whole ‘nother kind of intimacy. And you loved it. You gladly took him in your mouth. Bucky braced himself against the arm of the chair, letting out a small gasp.
You explored the piece of beauty with your tongue. Swirling the muscle around his head and sucking on the rest of what you could fit without dislocating your jaw. You were careful not to use your teeth, you didn’t want to hurt him, but you sure were enjoying the noises he made.
You think you could actually suck the man dry, you found this action quite enjoyable and you craved more. You lapped and sucked and savored; your heat raging in your belly. Bucky’s hand cradled your head and tangled into your hair.
“Fuck!” He growled but took himself out of your mouth, his tip reddened and so close to bliss. You were a bit confused, did he not like it? Bucky looked into your eyes, and kissed your cheek.
Summary: After being away for two months on a mission, Sam has finally returned home for his loving wife. Y/n makes sure that their reuniting is both sweet and spicy.
Notes: Hi!!! It’s been a while, hasn’t it? I probably still won’t be quite as active on this account as I used to be, but I will definitely be back to post some new fics, like this cute one I thought up! I was running low on inspo, so I watched Ant Man yesterday, and the .5 seconds with Sam in it made me want to write this! I hope you like this one bc I really do!!!
Warnings: smut!! 18+ only!! oral sex (m receiving), unprotected sex (they’re married tho so it’s fine), sleepy morning sex :)
WC: 1.3 k
Sam was so excited to be home. He had been gone nearly two months, which was a month longer than originally intended. The mission in Barcelona, Spain was to sniff out one of the world’s most notorious mob bosses, but when it turned out that he also had connections to Hydra (it seemed like everyone did these days), he and Bucky stayed longer to take down Hydra’s Barcelonian sect. They were hoping it would take a week, max, but it ended up consuming another full month. But now, Sam was finally home, and was able to return to his loving wife.
He arrived home at exactly 2:54 am (not that he was counting), and their home was quiet. All of the lights were off, and the only sound he could hear was the snoring of Macaroni, their chunky bulldog. He couldn’t help but smile as he passed the sleeping creature, excited to start going on walks with him again. Sam made his way upstairs cautiously and crept down the hallway, the creaky floorboards threatening to disturb the peace as he took every step. He turned the doorknob to their shared bedroom and slowly pushed the door open, and was relieved to see that despite their noisey floor, his wife was still fast asleep. He smiled at her sleeping form, which was clad only in one of his t-shirts and clutching his pillow to her chest. He placed the bag containing his uniform on the floor, foregoing putting it away properly to climb into bed beside his beloved. He carefully removed the pillow from her iron grip and wrapped his arms around her waist, falling asleep almost instantly. He supposed he didn’t realize how exhausted he was.
When Y/n awoke the next morning, the first thing she noticed was the sun streaming through their curtains. The second was the uniform bag haphazardly strewn on the floor. And the third was her husband’s muscular arms wrapped around her waist. A sleepy grin stretched across her face, and she turned over in Sam’s arms to look at his face. He looked so at peace; a small smile was on his face, and when he was sleeping, the almost permanent crease in his brow was erased. She gently brushed her thumb over his cheek, wanting to take in the picture in front of her. But soon, she found herself wanting something else. Her gaze fell from his sleeping face to his shirtless torso, and she grazed the digits that touched his face down his abdomen. Sam shifted slightly in his sleep, but didn’t wake. Good. She wanted to wake him up herself.
Slowly, Y/n turned Sam so that he was lying on his back. She replaced her fingers with her lips, softly dotting kisses down his abs until she reached his pantline. She tugged his sweatpants down slowly, still not wanting to wake him. She did the same with his boxers, pulling the offending materials off of his legs. After throwing the materials on the floor, she returned to her husband’s side. Leaning forward, she gently took his now exposed cock in her hand, stroking it a few times to get it to full hardness. By now, Sam was starting to stir above her, and she knew she had to be a little quicker. A few kitten licks were placed at the head of his cock before leaning up and giving his balls the same treatment. Y/n could hear a few soft whimpers from above her, and she felt a pair of hands making their way into her hair.
She pulled back from him, looking her husband in the eyes for the first time in months as she crooned, “Good morning, honey. Welcome home.”
His eyes were wide, and still hazy with sleep. His lips were parted as she lowered her head back down and licked stripes up his cock.
“You’re a fucking dream, baby. Missed you so much,” he whispered huskily.
She pulled back again, “Missed you, too,” before sucking the head into her mouth.
He moaned softly, gently guiding her head further down onto his cock. She went pliantly, able to take everything he was giving her. That was the benefit of being married for 5 years, she supposed. Her nose soon brushed his pelvis, and she felt one of Sam’s hands move from holding her head to grasping her hand, rubbing it with his thumb.
“That’s perfect, Y/n. Always make me feel so good,” Sam praised, enjoying the soft moan that fell from her lips in reply.
Too soon, his cock twitched in her mouth, signaling his eminent release. But instead of letting him cum, she pulled her mouth off of him, pressing a kiss to the tip.
“Don’t want you to cum yet, Sam. Wanna ride you first,” she explained.
He nodded, moving to sit up as his wife moved to straddle his waist.
Sam ran his thumb against her cheek and murmured, “You’re so beautiful, Y/n. Don’t know how I got so lucky.”
“Thank you, Sammy. I got lucky too, you know. Just wish you were home a little bit more,” Y/n replied with a fond smile on her face.
Sam smiled sadly, “Sorry, honey. Wish I could be home more too, but-”
“I know, you need to go be a hero,” Y/n interrupted, “just promise you’ll come back to me every time, like you did this time.”
“I promise, my love. Every time.”
At his words, she slowly sunk down onto his cock, moaning softly at the stretch. Every time he’d return home from a long mission, it felt like the first time. She had to get used to his size all over again. But though the stretch burned slightly, it felt so damned good.
Sam’s own sounds of pleasure fell from his lips as her snug walls enveloped him. It was like coming home. He knew that no matter what happened outside of the walls of their home, he would come home to her and everything would be okay.
Before long, Y/n was bouncing on his cock. She set a slow, steady pace, her tits bouncing slightly with her movements as his hands gently cradled her hips. It was soft and sweet, perfect for an early morning, and even more perfect for their first time in two months. Soft whispers of “I love you” were exchanged, and the only other sound that could be heard was the gentle slapping of skin against skin. She leaned down and pressed loving kisses to his lips, which he eagerly returned as he guided her movements on his cock.
Soon, they were both close. One of Sam’s hands moved to Y/n center, rubbing her clit, while Y/n sped up her pace slightly, hoping to have him cum along with her. As soon as Sam toyed with her clit, she reached her high, gasping out her husband’s name like a mantra as her orgasm flowed through her. It was a pleasant warmth, washing through the tips of her fingers to the tips of her toes, like ocean water on a hot summer day. The tightening of her pussy brough Sam over the edge, as ribbons of cum coated her walls.
The two reunited lovers were silent for a moment, only their breathing filling the silence of the room. It felt good to finally be back together, after having been separated for so long. Soon, though, Y/n climbed off of Sam and flopped onto the bed beside him. Sam got up from the bed and wandered to their bathroom, coming out with a warm washcloth. He gently cleaned her off, and did the same for himself before returning to her side. They faced each other, placing warm kisses on the other’s lips, happy to be back in each others’ arms. Though they both knew that someday soon, Sam would have to leave again, they found solace in moments like these, where the only thing in the world that mattered was each other.
— ✧ means smut if you’re under 18 please don’t read, or if you’re not comfortable with reading it. (sorry for the so many warnings)
— feel free to request!
༄ atelophobia
y/n and sam haven’t been the best of friends. he always annoyed her and she annoyed him. he hates how snippy she is, she hates how sarcastic he is. however some jokes of his make her crack a rare smile and sometimes he catches that. two people made for each other.
Summary: The Reader and Sam enjoy some steam shower time together. (Sam Wilson x Female!Reader)
Cool tiles chill your heated skin as Sam presses you into the shower wall. His hips snapping wildly as he pounds into your core.
“S-Sam. Don’t stop. Don’t..” That’s the most you can get out as you mind hazes over with pleasure. The way he works your body is like no other. He knows every spot that has you a moaning mess.
You whine when he pulls out only to slam back in. You have to catch yourself from falling because of his aggressive pace. Your fingernails dig into the grout, clipping the edge of tiles as you look for stability. Bent over, there’s not much you can do but enjoy the pounding of his cock is giving you.
His hand slides up your back, tangling in your wet hair and yanking back. Your back arches uncomfortably to accommodate the new angle.
“Your pussy is clenching around me. You enjoy it when I pull your hair like you're a little slut, (Y/N)?” Sam asks, tugging again.
“Shit. Yes. Yes!”
“That’s it. Tell me how much you like it.”
“I fucking love it, Sam.”
Your praise causes his hips to stutter but he continues ramming into you. When his fingers connect with your clit, you gasp and your pussy twitches around him.
“I’m so close.” You announce to him, not that he didn’t know already. The way your walls flutter is a clear indication your orgasm is about to hit you.
“Me too. Let go, baby. Let me feel you cum around my cock.”
And you do. Squeezing his member as your climax hits and sending him toppling into his own. Ropes of hot cum pump into you as his hips still.
“Fuck! That was so hot.” He exclaims, tugging you by your hair to stand up straight. Kissing you deeply, you feel his hand circle your clit and his cock pulse inside you.
Not losing the shower’s hot water any time soon, you don’t mind going another round.
