#sam wilson au

[anonymityisfunwriter]

Midnight Rain

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re an idiot.”

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

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

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

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

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

“It keeps us alive.”

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

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

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

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

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

"Sam, can I be honest?"

"Shoot."

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

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

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

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

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

"You're wrong."

"Why else-"

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

“Do you honestly believe that?”

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

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

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

"Yeah, I mean that."

--

3 Years Earlier - Somewhere in Scotland

“Just let me do the talking, okay?”

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

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

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

“No.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your eyes narrow at Natasha, "Which favor?"

"Budapest."

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

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

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

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

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

You don’t bother to reply.

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

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

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

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

“For you and me both,” you quip.

“You know, you’re kind of a jackass.”

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

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

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

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

"We're not friends."

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

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

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

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

"You're not friends?”

"No."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

--

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

--

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

"What?"

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

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

"Tonight."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Where you gonna go?"

"I have other places."

"By yourself?"

"Typically."

"Why don't you stay with us?"

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

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

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

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

--

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

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

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

It made the moment you walked away hurt even more. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

--

1 Year Earlier - Somewhere in Eastern Europe

“Stop watching me sleep.”

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

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

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

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

“I miss you,” Sam whines.

“I’m right here.”

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

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

“How could I forget?”

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

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

“About?” you urge.

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

Your smile slips from your face. "What?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He deserved more. More than you would ever be. 

--

6 Months Ago - A Bar in New York City

"You don't have to do this."

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

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

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

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

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

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

"We do."

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

"What are you talking about?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

--

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

"I'm working, Sam."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Because I'm in love with you."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What do you know about what I want?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sam Wilson Masterlist AnonymityIsFun Masterlist Inspired By Taylor Swift Masterlist

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

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

#anonymityisfunwriter #anonymityisfun #anon's 1k celebration #sam wilson x you #sam wilson x y/n #sam wilson x reader #sam wilson x fem!reader #sam wilson x female reader #sam wilson fic #sam wilson fanfiction #sam wilson imagine #sam wilson fluff #sam wilson fanfic #sam wilson au #sam wilson angst #samuel wilson #sam wilson #reader insert #based on a taylor swift song #x reader #the falcon #midnight rain

[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+

#jane’s writing #kinktober 2023 #fawktober 2023 #sam wilson #sam wilson x f!reader #sam wilson x reader #sam wilson x you #sam wilson x female reader #sam wilson x fem!reader #sam wilson fic #sam wilson fluff #sam wilson captain america #sam wilson fanfiction #sam wilson imagine #sam wilson au #sam wilson marvel #captain america x reader #captain america x f!reader #fem!reader

[fluffyprettykitty]

Fortify

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

Word Count: ~1000 words

Outline: childhood friend to forever protector who was your guardian angel truly?

Warnings: car accident, blood, biting, vampire stuff, transformation, sam has wings, military experiments, some stalking, some angst.

Author’s Note: happy belated halloween folks! this is the fic that won the previous poll! and you can still pick between dragon!sam and werewolf!sam for the next monsterverse fic! this would come earlier if people knew how to drive lmao!

PS: dividers & banners by @saradika

Main Masterlist ・❥・ Sam Wilson Masterlist

Sam blinked slowly. He couldn't believe his eyes.

He couldn't react fast enough, not even with his heightened senses. You were lying on the concrete floor, your heart weakly beating, in the dead of the night. The car that hit you had long sped ahead, afraid of dealing with tragedy. That's what humans always did anyway.

Your heartbeat is getting weaker, and there's no one around. No one witnessed this crime. Sam looks around, his eyes darkened with desperation, he spreads his wings and flies to you. Close enough to see you weakly shut your eyes as the holy image of him flying to you enriches your mind. You doze off to a dream as Sam wraps his arms around you bringing your body close to his chest and engulfing you in his wings.

He could call for an ambulance, but it would be too late, they never show up on time anyway, not today not ever. He shakes his head in disbelief as he knows what he must do to save you.

Just a few drops, they would save you, just a little exchange of power could help you get strong enough to get to the hospital where you'll be treated.

It won't take more than a minute, no one will see.

Sam sinks his teeth into your lifeless neck, your heart had stopped beating a mere second ago and he wasted no more time. He was scared, of you, of your reaction of maybe losing you forever but he couldn't not even try at all.

He had this curse, this gift you could have said if it was up to you. If you knew. He had been a vampire only for a decade now, a very bad experiment gone wrong in the military so he always kept himself hidden, kept himself away from people, from pretty girls like you.

But he never thought you'd be here, looking exactly like the girl whom he knew back in kindergarten. He tried to keep away from you, he tried not to smell you, not be near you but he was drawn into you. His past emotions were so prominent inside his extra-developed brain. Full of passions and sins yet so far away. He observed you, day and night. Day was the privilege of this being an experiment, night was his primal right.

He sucks in a breath, the sweet taste of your blood is enough to drive him insane. He tries very hard to un sink his teeth from your neck and with tears in his eyes he withdraws his fangs. How does he wish he could taste you every day, every night, his brain rushed with naughty thoughts but he quickly pushed them away.

With a swift motion, he bit into his own hand and with his other hand slightly opened your mouth. With determination, he twisted his wrist so the blood would start falling into your lips. Three droplets were enough to open your eyes. Once you were conscious enough, he would run away, that was his plan to tell you that what you saw was a dream, that he was never here.

Your eyes gaze into his eyes as your heart starts beating slowly again, a slight gasp leaving your lips as the air gets back inside your lungs.

"Sam?" You ask not even slightly confused. You could have sworn he your guardian angel. You kept seeing him everywhere, you knew what that could have meant.

"Shhh. You're seeing a dream." He shushes you taking his gaze from you and withdraws his hands.

"Don't lie to me, Sam, please." You plead, suddenly the previous from before became so apparent that made your whole body ache.

Sam looked concerned as you started hurting, taking you back into his arms and trying to figure out what happened to you. Did he screw up? A few drops wouldn't be enough for a full transformation.

"It burns." You protest, your eyebrows drawn in a pained expression.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, it's my fault." Sam starts apologizing, guilty as ever, knowing well he managed to screw up saving you.

"No." You wince and turn your head to look at him. "Sam, please."

"I shouldn't have, I shouldn't. Goddammit."

“Look at me, look at me. I’m not hurt, okay? You didn’t hurt me.” You protest, tears in your eyes.

Sam's face winces in pain and he turns his gaze away from you.

"I'm alright, Sammy, look at me. You did good." You grab his still muscular arm and try to comfort him. His face slowly turns, afraid to face you, afraid for when you realize what is truly going on.

Suddenly you feel stronger, your mind clearer, your heart racing. "I'm alright. I'm alright." You repeat, feeling your heart beating faster.

"I'm sorry." Sam whispers and you can't catch his tears fast enough.

"I don't mind Sammy, I don't."

"We gotta be careful, we can't know for sure you won't turn."

"Will that be such a bad thing?"

"You don't know what you're signed up for."

"I'm not afraid, Sam." You say determinedly.

"It's not a good life." He protested.

"And I know you'll be right by my side to protect me. I know you will."

"I will." He confirmed, nodding his head.

"I trust you." You smile and slowly caress his face.

"I love you." He blurts out knowing at this point everything has come to light.

"I love you forever." You reply, knowing very well you no longer feel human.

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

#selenewrites #sam wilson #sam wilson x reader #sam wilson angst #sam wilson au #vampire!sam wilson #halloween fic #sam wilson x you #sam wilson imagine #sam wilson fanfiction #sam wilson x y/n #sam wilson x fem!reader #sam wilson fic #captain america

[imyourbratzdoll]

After everyones request is it ok to ask for sam willson pls

Fluffy sam request with him and reader chilling at movie night and them cuddling in a shared blanket please

hello honey! I'm so sorry for taking so long, and I hope you enjoy it! also, thank you to @lokiandbuckysdoll for supporting me on kofi!

summary - your partner comes home, and you two best relax by watching a movie together.

the gif I use isn't mine, divider by @newlips

“Yay! Movie night!” Sam shimmies, holding a handful of snacks, and heads over to you. You smile as you watch him place the snacks on the coffee table and open your arms for him to crawl into them. Sam lifts the blankets, getting under them and snuggling into you. He sighs as your arms wrap around him, and you press play on the horror movie. “I’ve missed you so much, baby. This is the best way to unwind. You, me, some snacks and a movie, perfection.” He kisses his fingers, grinning as you giggle at his words before he reaches over and grabs some of the chocolate sitting there, handing you a few blocks while eating some for himself.

You rest your head against his shoulder, squeezing your arms around him tightly as you’ve missed having him close to you. “I’ve missed you too, Sam. You tend to light everything up with your presence.” You turn your head, kissing his cheek softly, loving how warm he is. You tend to run cold, but you become so much more warmer when he's around. “I love you so much.” 

The two of you watch the movie, laughing and commenting on the scenes and how stupid the people can be. You continue to eat the snacks and cuddle with your partner, enjoying having him in your company after being away from each other for so long. As the credits roll, Sam rolls over and wraps his arms around you, burying his face into your chest and pulling you close to him. “I’ve missed this.” He looks up at you with a soft look, his eyes memorising your face. “I’ve missed you, everything about you.” Sam lifts his hand, stroking your cheek, and your breath hitches, eyes fluttering shut as his touch brings comfort.

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

#imyourbratzdollasks #anon reply #imyourbratzdollwork #sam wilson x y/n #sam wilson x reader #sam wilson x you #sam wilson #sam wilson drabble #sam wilson imagine #sam wilson fic #sam wilson fanfiction #sam wilson fluff #sam wilson one shot #sam wilson oneshot #sam wilson angst #sam wilson au #sam wilson imagines #anthony mackie fanfiction #anthony mackie #anthony mackie x reader #anthony mackie fluff #anthony mackie x you #anthony mackie fan fiction #anthony mackie fic #anthony mackie fandom #anthony mackie oneshot #anthony mackie imagine #anthony mackie imagines #anthony mackie one shot #anthony mackie angst

[sarahwroteathing]

Beginner’s Guide to Falling

[Sam Wilson x Reader] Journalist AU

Summary: Your life ambitions are simple and fairly straightforward: independence, an apartment with at least one window, a career you are passionate about, and a coffee maker that doesn’t break when it smells fear. Romance has never been on your list. But when a frustrated comment at a staff meeting lands you with an assignment way out of your depth, you find yourself teaming up with Sam Wilson, the senior staff writer of a viral romantic advice column.

Chapter 1 - Coming Soon

#sam wilson series #sam wilson au #literally too feral about this to finish what I intended to post today sorry not sorry #i’m screaming crying throwing up

[thesugarclubs-blog]

Put A Little Love on Me - Sam Wilson x OC

warnings: hurt/comfort, friends to lovers, air force friends, soft smut, 18+

word count: 8.4k

WP: https://www.wattpad.com/1437355323-put-a-little-love-on-me-lane

vibe: "That's not fair, Sam," she whispered, hugging her arms around her middle, her fingers gripping into the fabric of her dress.

Sam shook his head and stepped closer to her, chewing on the inside of his cheek, "No it's not, but it's all I had. We promised we'd always have each other no matter what happened. After everything you helped me through when Riley -" his words cut off and her let out a breath, keeping his dark eyes on hers, "I just wanted to be able to help you the way you helped me," he finished

Masterlist

A few raps sounded at his bedroom door as he changed his tie once more. 

“Mr. Wilson, sir?” Sam smiled  at Peter’s voice coming from the other side. “I don’t mean to rush you but Barnes-”

“Completely means to!” 

Bucky’s exasperated voice boomed through the first floor of the compound interrupting him causing Sam to snort out a laugh as he tightened his tie and looked over himself quickly in the mirror. The soft pink tie he had finally landed on looked great  against the crisp navy suit he had chosen for tonight. 

They had been invited to a spring gala in honor of the Armed Forces tonight and they’d asked him, as Captain America and former Air Force, to say a few words. 

“Looking good Wilson, looking good.” He winked at himself before pocketing his phone and wallet to head out the door. 

Sam made his way over to where Bucky was sitting alongside Peter in the common room, looking like he was going to burst into flames as the youngest showed him something on his phone excitedly. 

“Don’t scare him off Parker, he might bail on us.”  

His partner rolled his eyes and cleared his throat before standing and running a hand through his hair. 

Sam whistled, “You know for a person who didn’t wanna go you clean up real nice Buckaroo.” 

“Don’t push your luck Sam,” he replied pointedly. 

“But where’s the fun in that?” Sam grinned as he grabbed his coat and headed for the door. “Are you guys coming?” He asked innocently, just catching the way Bucky glowered, unimpressed, as he followed with a heavy trudge. 

The car waited outside, tinted windows and a security detail that felt entirely unnecessary and did little to ease Sam’s nerves. It’s not that he hated public speaking, it was a given now, but the cause for tonight was important. It sat close to his heart, in both pride and heartbreak, and he just hoped the small speech he had prepared did it justice.

As the cavalcade approached the Plaza, Bucky looked through the tinted glass and whistled. "Very fancy Sammy boy." The car pulled up in front of the huge double doors, the red carpet lined with press and reporters. "And they're all here for you." As the door opened Bucky held his arm out, "After you, I insist," he smirked to Sam, "Me and the boy will just hang here until the heat dies down." 

"So much for moral support, " Sam complained, over his shoulder as he stepped out of the car. The camera flashes and the cacophony of voices that greeted him confirmed that Bucky had the right idea.

He took a breath and transformed his face into the friendly, all-American grin that he knew the public loved and stepped forward. He held his arms out slightly, as if he were about to give the crowd a hug, and then waved. Here, there, up to the right, wherever he heard his name called as he slowly but resolutely made his way towards the doors of the building.

His right hand went to the watch on his left wrist and he surreptitiously fingered the tiny control panel. Gasps of delight came from the crowd as Redwing swooped down and performed some aerial acrobatics, guiding Sam the rest of the way to the doors through a chorus of cheers and applause.

Once inside, he took a moment to steel himself with a breath as everyone in attendance bustled around the room; taking pictures, grabbing glasses of champagne from trays. He took his phone out quickly typing out a text to Bucky and Peter letting them know he’d find their table. As soon as Bucky responded, he pocketed his phone and made sure his speech paper was still  safely tucked inside his jacket pocket before making his way through the crowd of attendees.

He scanned the room until he found the seating chart by the bar — open, he hoped — and found their names under table number one, right front and centre. 

The table was still empty when he arrived, eight exquisitely laid places and a beautifully crafted centrepiece. Sam wandered around the table, searching out his name and slid into his seat, just taking a moment of calm before he would inevitably be thrown into the fray. 

Bucky and Peter’s voices mingled with the music as they bustled over behind him. 

“I was waiting for a text so we could sneak in, Wilson. Do you know how many hands I had to shake tryin’ to find you?” Bucky grumbled, slumping into the chair beside him.

Sam cocked an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips, "Poor little super soldier, having to mingle and get appreciated"

The small stifled laugh from Peter caused a chuckle to bubble from his lips as Bucky rolled his eyes. Sam knew the spotlight was something Bucky was still getting used to and for the most part he always supported his friend's decision to hide in the shadows but with their recent successes and their new team growing, he'd have to accept the supportive attention, even if it was just for one night.

"To be fair Bucky, you were the one who insisted every man for himself," Peter started to explain, before seeing the look Bucky was sending him and pulling himself short. "I know, shut up kid, " he finished, pushing his chair backwards, he stood and suggested, "should I to go see if they have any Asgardian Mead?"

"Good idea, kid," Bucky replied, "I've a feeling I'm going to need it."

"You need to go easy tonight Buck," Sam advised.

"I know how to behave in polite society," Bucky shook his head at Sam, "I was brought up by a lady and know how to treat the dames."

“Rule number one,” Sam countered, “don’t call ‘em dames. They don’t like that anymore.” 

“Aw, shucks! That’s why I can’t get a date.” 

Sam rolled his eyes and turned his attention to the rest of the room. It was probably time to get this show on the road, be the man of the people and shake some hands. 

“I’m gonna go mingle, hold down the fort and don’t let Parker drink.” He pointed a finger at Bucky as he stood. Brushing his hands down his suit, he took a deep breath and headed towards Rhodey, the first face he’d recognised since he walked in.

Clapping his friend on the back, Sam grinned his signature grin and extended his hand to the two council members that Rhodey was talking too, "Gentleman, I hope my friend here isn't boring you with his tank story, again," 

"That story is a classic and always kills," Rhodey defended as the men with him laughed, shaking their heads. 

"Only to people who haven't heard it ten times," one of them retorted with a booming laugh. 

Sam nudged his shoulder into his friends with a smirk as the conversation moved on to the recent PR that was needed for their growing team and how it was going to be handled. They wanted Kate and Yelena to make appearance's at schools and Peter needed to do tech presentations, stepping into the shoes that Tony had left for him. But something caught Sam's attention, and the councilman's words drifted out to a dull whisper. 

A girl with soft brunette waves stood by the bar in a navy blue satin gown, her deep chocolate brown eyes trained on his with a soft smile playing on her lips as she took a sip from her wine glass. Sam's chest squeezed as his mind jolted to the last time he'd laid eyes on the girl in front of him. The soft goodbye she'd whispered into his ear, and the press of her lips to his cheek before she'd walked out for her last mission. The day she'd walked out the door, taking his heart with her. 

"Yeah, yeah that sounds good, we'll talk about it Monday," Sam mumbled, squeezing Rhodey's shoulder, "Will you excuse me?" He didn't wait for an answer before he walked away, his tunnel vision setting in as the rest of the room faded.

His heart rate picked up with each step he took towards her. Sam slowed to a stop in front of her, those eyes he'd fallen into time and time again trail up and down the navy suit he wore. "Lanie?" Sam breathed out her name like an unanswered prayer and her smile only grew. 

"I'm a little disappointed you didn't wear the wings." She quipped, taking a sip of her drink. 

He was too busy admiring just how much more beautiful she had gotten since the last time he saw her for her words to register and when they did he couldn't help but chuckle. "Shoot, I left them in the car." 

Lane laughed and the sound hit deep in his core. The feelings he had bottled up and tucked away started to bubble in his chest as her laughter slowed and it was just the two of them. 

"You look good, Sam," Lane said softly.

"This old thing," he gulped, trying to get his racing heart under control.

 Lane had always had this effect on him, even before the feeling was mutual. Just a look from her in his direction or a parting of her lips sent his pulse through the roof. Lane had been so weary of the guys in their squadron, conscious that they were a bunch of entitled A-holes, who made a female pilot work twice as hard for the privilege of wearing the wings.

 She'd finished in the top 5%  of their class, proving herself and nabbing a commission most of the other flyers could only dream of. When Sam had transferred to Dulles Air Force base a year after graduating he'd been delighted to discover not only was Lane still there but had blossomed into a confident, pack up your shit and take a hike, no-nonsense lady. Well-liked and respected by her squad, she had remembered Sam fondly and had been happy to show him the ropes and eventually allowed him to take her out for a drink.

“You, uh… you look good too, Lanie,” Sam murmured softly, taking her in properly. She’d always been beautiful, even with her hair in the regulation bun, slicked back and shining with gel and a fresh face. Now though, he wasn’t sure he could be in her vicinity much longer without a drink in his hand. 

“Thanks, big shot,” she smiled, that heart-stopping, flirty thing that always sent his heart a flutter. “How is that going? Being Cap?” 

Sam sucked in a breath. “Big shoes to fill,” he chuckled as Lane caught his elbow gently, leading him towards the bar. 

“And yet they fit you so well, Sam,” she replied, “I certainly had no doubt they would.”

A familiar fluttering filled his chest as Sam felt a blush creeping up his neck, “Thanks Lanie, that uh, means a lot coming from you” 

She smiled again, that smile that was seared into his brain from the first moment they met at training camp. A smile that brightened the room and dulled away all the worries that plagued his heart since taking up the mantle. 

“And you,” Sam cleared his throat, as his tongue darted out to wet his suddenly dry lips, “I hear you’re basically running the program now, but not flying anymore what’s that about?” 

A flash of a pained expression crossed her face, before she covered it with a soft smirk and shook her head, “you keeping tabs on me, Wilson?” She questioned, teasingly.

His heart flipped at the question. He had been keeping tabs on her, a small obsession and mainly just to make sure she was still kicking. "You know how airmen and women are." 

Lane raised a brow, "and what about you? Any new aliens I should know about." 

Sam chuckled and shook his head thankful for the change of subject. If she knew just how much he had been following her career on his own it would open that can of worms they decided to close a long time ago. "Androids maybe, aliens..." he shook his head, "not as of late."

"Good to know the world's in safe hands." She turned to the bartender. "Can I get an Old Fashioned and...?"

"Just a beer for me," Sam ordered. The area around the bar was getting crazy busy, with other attendees pressing against them trying to get served. 

Lane passed him his beer and stepped away from the bar, taking a gulp of her drink, she then motioned her glass towards the balcony doors. "I need to get some air, it's a little warm in here." She turned away from him and took another couple of steps. "It really is lovely to see you Sam," she smiled, a shy smile which reminded him so much of their first time together. "Maybe we don't leave it so long next  time."

He wanted to say something else, to follow after her. To continue the conversation that he craved so desperately but he could see she needed out. She had never quite fit in events like these. She was beautiful and good at pretending she was social but Sam could see the obligatory scowl flicker to her face when the important people weren't looking. Same old Lane. Wanted to be anywhere else than where she had to be. 

Sam spent the night fielding questions from politicians, and making sure his overgrown, chaotic dates, Bucky and Peter, stayed out of the mead. It wasn't until he was sitting alone with his third beer in the wind and the band started to play the after dinner music that he realized his mind had been on Lane all night. She floated around the room, avoiding the big crowds and speaking directly to a few important people but it never lasted long and she disappeared as quickly as she appeared. 

"Why don't you ask her to dance?" Peter slumped down into the chair beside Sam. "I've been watching you, watching her all night." 

"I haven't been watching no-one, Squirt." Sam brushed him off but his eyes found her again, slender curves and bright, fake smile as she awkwardly shook hands with another man. 

"She looks like she needs saving," Peter shrugged. 

But Lane had never needed saving, not really. 

"Chicken," Peter resorted to name calling and as soon as he turned on him the squawking stopped.

“I will put you on mission laundry duty,” Sam threatened, “and I know for a fact Barnes leaves his go-bag far longer than he should between washes. Every. Single. Time.”

Peter shuddered and Sam cackled as the younger man scurried away to the bar. 

“No mead!” Sam called after him before his gaze fell back to Lane. She was holding her own against the man, a Sergeant in full dress who was pushing his luck with how close he was standing. It wasn’t until his hand skimmed across the small of Lane’s back and she stepped out of his reach that Sam chugged back the rest of his beer and heaved himself up. 

“Not saving her, just deterring the creep,” he muttered to himself as he headed in their direction.

"Sergeant, I think it's important to remember we are in the company of many of our superiors." Lane reminded the man with that sickly sweet smile that to others seemed just polite, but Sam knew the venom around it. 

The man was just about to part his lips to counter when Sam stepped to her side, "Sir I believe Rhodey was looking for you." 

He frowned and shook his head walking away from them. 

"I didn't need saving Cap." Lane said after a moment when the man was out of earshot.

"No you didn't, but he did. I remember when you almost roundhoused a guy who thought touching you was a god given right." Sam responded, "And as you say, we're surrounded by superiors."

"That was a lifetime ago Sam, the new me doesn't get violent, I just get even. Unfinished business and all that." She bit her lower lip and looked like she wanted to say more, but took another sip of her drink instead.

Sam watched as another uniform approached her from behind and instead of leaving her to the dogs like she so clearly wanted to be Sam extended his hand. 

"How about a dance?" He asked. 

Lane eyed his hand, thoughts swirled around behind those pretty eyes and then she downed her drink and set it aside and slid her hand into his. 

"You still step on toes?" She teased and Sam huffed. "I'll take that as a yes."

“Hasn’t stopped you before,” Sam quipped, leading her onto the dance floor and Lane laughed lightly. 

“I’m a risk taker, Wilson. It’s like you don’t know me at all.” 

The music grew louder the closer they got to the band, big brass swelling around the crooning of the singer they’d hired. Sam pulled Lane closer, holding her slender frame against his body as they began to sway gently. 

“Now, I don’t know about that, Lanie. You’ve never hidden yourself from me.”

"That you know of." Lane smirked up at him, her long hair cascading down her back as her chin lifted to look up at him. Those dark eyes finding his, "I'm pretty good at keeping secrets." 

Sam raised a brow, "you can't keep a secret for the life of you." 

She grinned up at him again, a mischievous look behind her eyes, "that you know of."

Sam led Lane around the dance floor, the two of them in comfortable silence, but he was sure she could see the words brewing in his eyes, something he had been dying to offload ever since they parted ways. 

He cleared his throat, pulling her closer to him so that their cheeks met, entwining their fingers so that there was no escaping his nearness. "Before, when you mentioned unfinished business, did you mean us? Is that what we are?"

"What do you think, Sam?" she asked softly, "Are we unfinished or was this over a long time ago?"

Sam felt his breath catch in his throat before speaking, "You tell me, Lane. I wasn't the one who took a mission and didn't come home."

"That's unfair Sam," She said, "you know what it's like on those missions..." She trailed off. Her hands tight in Sam's as they spun in a lazy circle. 

"Out there, sure," Sam answered, "but you came home, all I expected was a phone call." 

"Phone calls can still be hard when you don't know what to say," She hummed and let him spin her out and away from him, before gently bringing her back against his chest. Her back molded to his front as their cheeks pressed together as they silently worked through all those hard unspoken emotions. 

"We were never very good at talking anyways, Lanie."

Sam felt the reverberation of her hum through his chest and he turned his head, letting his lips graze lightly over her jaw. 

“Sam,” she said softly, her breath hitching. 

“Tell me you didn’t want it to be over,” he whispered lowly, “because I know I didn’t.” 

Lane tensed in his arms and Sam sighed. He should have known. 

“Sam, you have a speech to make soon. Let’s not do this now, please? Just dance with me a little longer.”

"Give me something, Lane," he was battling to keep his voice neutral. He was sure that once he left her to make his speech, she'd take off again. 

"I can't do this here, tonight Sam. Just for now let's pretend that we're a couple," she rested her head against his shoulder and Sam tightened his hold on her slightly as she turned her face and rubbed her nose up and down his neck. If Sam  closed her eyes, he could imagine that he was her wingman, murmuring sweet nothings in her ear, making her shudder with want. 

When she spun away this time, her fingers slipped from his and just like before she slipped into the crowd and away from him. 

He made to go after her when the crowd parted and the mic screeched over the heads of everyone, "everyone please welcome to the stage our very own Captain America, Sam Wilson!" 

Sam nodded, turning on his heal and painting a smile on his face and raised his hand in the air making his way to the stage to do his speech but his mind wandered to his Lanie, where she would have run off to and how far he'd have to go to chase her down this time.

Jogging up the steps to the microphone, Sam squinted against the lights and gathered his wit, feeling a little out of sorts now. 

Under the attention of literally everyone in the room, he cleared his throat and patted down his pocket for his speech as his eyes settled on Bucky and Peter, the two of them lounging at their table with tumblers that were definitely filled with the Agardian mead he told them to steer clear of. Bucky grinned up at him and flashed two over-enthusiastic thumbs up and Peter cupped his hands around his mouth, whooping and cheering far too loudly for such a dignified gala. 

Still, it settled something within him and he dragged his eyes across the room, telling himself he wasn’t searching for her as he unfolded the piece of paper in his hand.

His entire speech felt distant, like he was on autopilot as he said the words and the crowd laughed from time to time. When the applause started and he folded the paper back up his heart raced with one last scan of the crowd. It wasn't until he caught a glimpse of navy satin disappearing out onto one of the balconies that he finally took a breath and followed her outside.

As he tried to make his way through the crowd, people clapped him on the back and stepped in front of him to comment on his speech. His eyes stayed trained on the balcony door, politely and professionally stepping around everyone who got in his way. He'd fight his way through an alien battlefield if it meant Lane was waiting for him on the other side. The glimmer of hope that clung to his chest drew him forward, through everything. 

Stepping out into the fresh spring breeze, Sam felt his breath catch in his throat once more as the moonlight shimmered on across her gown and illuminated her eyes, "Leaving me again so soon, Lanie?" he commented. 

"That's not fair, Sam," she whispered, hugging her arms around her middle, her fingers gripping into the fabric of her dress. 

Sam shook his head and stepped closer to her, chewing on the inside of his cheek, "No it's not, but it's all I had. We promised we'd always have each other no matter what happened. After everything you helped me through when Riley -" his words cut off and her let out a breath, keeping his dark eyes on hers, "I just wanted to be able to help you the way you helped me," he finished.

She stood there, throat bobbing. 

"Listen, I don't want to spend anymore time here and I don't think you do either. I did my speech, I paid my dues," Sam stepped forward, "why don't we go home?" 

Sam watched as her whole body tensed at his use of the word. He knew what he was doing, they had never lived together but home was less of a place for the two of them, more of a feeling. "You can talk," Sam said quietly but firmly as he reached out to her, "I can listen."

He watched the tears pool in her eyes as they darted softly across his face, almost like she was looking for the man he was all those years ago. Trying so hard to ground herself before putting her hand in his. Lane never did like showing her feelings, she always felt like she couldn’t and he could only hope to make her feel as safe as she did for him.

"Damn you, Sam Wilson," she muttered, but there was a soft, tentative smile on her face as she threaded her fingers with his. "If we're gonna do this, I need the greasiest, cheesiest burger you can get around here."

"I'll do you one better. You come back to the compound with me and I'll cook you up somethin' special, maybe somethin' from my Mama's secret recipe stash." 

"You mean Sarah finally shared them with you?" Lane chuckled, her eyes still glistening. "God, I used to love going home with you for that cooking." 

"Just for the cooking?" Sam replied, flashing her his best smile as Lane rolled her eyes. "What do you say, Lanie? We're both here, now, and if this is the only chance we get..."

"Take me home, bird boy," Lane smirked playfully, squeezing his hand gently. 

Another swarm of butterflies fluttered against Sam's rib cage at the familiar nickname he'd earned from his friends back on base. He let out a loud laugh, throwing his head back, "Oh that's what we're doing now?" 

Smiling brightly, Lane hummed and nodded once, bumping her shoulder into his as she dragged him back towards the door. Sam shook his head once more as he followed, tucking the two of them close to the wall as they snuck through the crowded room. Only a few people tried to catch his attention but there was nothing that was going to take him away from escaping with his girl.

The car was waiting out front and when he finally had her in the back seat it was like a tidal wave of relief had washed over him. He always knew how much he missed her, but seeing her here, ready and finally willing to just talk to him. It was different. He couldn't explain how real it all felt. So he kept his hand tucked in hers, craving the sensation of her skin until he could get her alone. 

Lane was nervous, he could feel it in her touch when she squeezed his hand with worry. He couldn't even remember the last time she had gone home with him. 

God he had missed her. "We're almost there," he rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand.

Lane smiled, small and tight, when the car pulled in through the security gate and she peered out the window at the sprawling compound. Once parked up, Sam helped her out, tucking her under his arm as they headed through the front door and through to the common room. 

The place was in relative darkness, the soft lighting usually set for night time, and Sam caught the way Lane’s shoulders fell, tension physically oozing out of her. 

“Take a seat,” he murmured softly, “I’ll open a bottle of red.”

He wandered over to the small wine storage, searching for the bottle of Lane’s favourite he knew he kept for memory’s sake, when his phone buzzed in his pocket. Sliding it out, he was met with a selfie of Bucky the idiot took when Sam wasn’t looking — Peter’s doing really, he’s sure — and he brushed his thumb across the screen to quickly take the call. 

“Are you allowed to bail on your own gala?”Bucky asked immediately, “at least tell me you’re alive.”

Sam breathed out a short laugh, "Alive and well, Buck. Just something I need to take care of," he smiled softly, grabbing the wine bottle off the shelf and turning it over in his hands. 

"Something or someone?" Bucky pressed, the hint of a joke in his grumpy voice, "If I have to stay here, I don't think it's fair that you got to leave, even the kid is leaving with Kate and Yelena, something about playing Kings" he grumbled, "but there's no royalty visiting the city,"

With a shake of his head, Sam couldn't help the roll of his eyes, "It's just a game Buck and you can leave too, just give the kitchen and common floor some space, I'll talk to you later" 

Letting out another laugh as he hung up his phone, Sam sauntered back into the living room presenting the wine bottle to Lane, with a proud smile, "Rippon Pinot Noir, just the way you like it,"

"Almost like you kept that sitting around in case I showed up," Lane teased but her voice was tight. 

"Better to be prepared than empty handed," Sam uncorked the wine. 

"Don't," Lane covered her glass with her hand, "straight out of the bottle or not at all," she smiled.

"Just like the good old days?" Sam nodded. 

"I wouldn't call them good, but they were days, and there was wine." Lane added, "and you."

"Then we got all we need," Sam replied softly as he took a seat beside her on the couch. Lane had kicked off her heels  and made herself comfortable, and something about that made him smile. That she could be so comfortable in his space again after so long apart. 

"So," she started, making grabby hands for the bottle and sipping it delicately. "Are you ready to listen?" 

"I'm all ears, sweetheart," he breathed, pressing his body against hers as offered him both the bottle of wine and her hand. He squeezed her fingers gently as Lane took a deep breath.

Lane turned her eyes down to their intertwined hands and swiped her tongue over her lips. Using two of his fingers, Sam lifted her gaze back up to meet his with a soft nod of his head, ensuring she knew that he was right there, whatever happened, he was with her. With a gentle smile ghosting her lips as her dark eyes skated over his face, Lane cleared her throat and began the story of her last mission. The amount of people they'd lost, and how she did everything to save as many as she could, but even the ones who came home didn't really. The emotion in her voice as she talked about her troops, the soft voice cracks and the small tear that escaped down her cheek made Sam's whole body ache. It was supposed to be a track and report mission, but it turned into a search and rescue. He'd been on difficult missions himself but this was something else all together. 

Sam wanted to gather her up in his arms and never let her go. To remind her that she was home and safe back in his arms. To tell her that he was never going to let anything bad happen to her again. 

"... I was shot out of the sky, just like Riley," she whispered, taking a small sip from the wine bottle in front of her, "My wings wrapped the wrong way and I just... fell. Shrapnel from the shot was lodged in my back with bits from my pack, if I hadn't been over water, I would've -" her voice broke again and Sam traced his thumb over her cheek, catching another tear. 

"There's a reason I didn't wear an open back dress tonight," Lane tried to joke, "The scars from surgery after surgery, it's not pretty Sam... and the - mental scars that I carry, it was too much to put on you. You were working with Steve Rogers when I got back, I wasn't about to swoop in and take that away just because I'm broken."

The words caught in Sam's throat, broken. He'd never once thought of Lane as anything but strong and fierce. Like a tidal wave. To hear her talk about herself in a way that was anything less than that, it broke down a wall inside of him.

"Show me, Lanie," He urged, knowing the chances of her saying no were high but he also knew that telling her that she was beautiful, unmarked and flawless. Those words would mean nothing to her, he needed to show her. "I'll show you mine," he added with a soft smile. 

"I've seen all your scars, Sam." She whispered, her fingers tighter around the bottle now. 

"I have some new ones," he returned the tease, trying to make her comfortable enough to give in and trust him just one more time.

"I don't know, Sam." Her voice was hushed, a quiet murmur in their little corner of the common room. 

"How about I go first?" He responded, and with the slight nod of Lane's head, Sam hopped to his feet and shrugged off his jacket, chucking it across the arm of the couch. She looked up then, her sad eyes fixed on his fingers as he worked quickly to undo his tie. Sam flashed her a grin, wiggling his eyebrows as if he were undressing for any other reason but to show off the jagged lines and mottled skin he carried with him now. And he'd do it a million times over if it meant Lane could see the beauty in the scars she carried herself. 

Once he reached the last button of his shirt, he let it hang open before he moved onto his belt, ridding himself of his clothes until he stood in nothing but his boxers and his socks and he began to point out his most recent scar, a long, freshly pink line that was a deep slit in his thigh just a few months ago. 

"Sam," Lane breathed, her breath hitching. 

"One for one?" Sam replied as he held his hand out, waiting patiently for her to take it, to trust him with her hurt like he had with her all those years ago.

Hesitantly, Lane placed her hand in his and stood, leaving a few inches between them as she spun slowly and paused with her back to him, looking over her shoulder, "could you help me?" She whispered. 

Sam trailed his fingers softly up her back until he reached the zipper of her dress, pulling it down agonizingly slowly. A long line of raised, discolored flesh ran along her spine, growing the lower he got. He stopped his fingers when he reached the end and Sam swallowed thickly, tracing his thumb over the scar that ran the entire length between her shoulder blades. 

 "Surgery number one," Lane breathed, leaning into his touch and meeting his gaze once more.

His breath caught in his throat as she let the dress slip from her hips and stepped out of it, turning around to face him. Her face was tight and every agonizing motion she felt was on display as she arched her neck and closed her eyes. "Number two," she whispered, showing him a fleshy twisted scar that spiraled over her bicep and cut into her shoulder. Sam couldn't believe the pain she must have endured from the fall. Not knowing if she was going to survive it, even worse the agony she must have felt waking up alone, completely transformed by the accident.

The strength she must have held, still held, to get through that. Sam would never know what it was like to come out the other side of something as intense as what Lane had been through, but he knew a little something about grief, about the loss of something and the heaviness you live with after as you rebuild your life. 

"I think you might be the strongest woman I know," he murmured, taking a small step closer. "but then, you always have been." 

Lane's mouth curved into a soft smile, not quite meeting her eyes as she reached for Sam's hand and brought his fingers to her stomach and around to the side of her waist. 

"Scar number three," she murmured, as she pressed the pads of Sam's fingers along the thick, raised line that stretched around to her back. "This one's from a piece of my pack that decided to embed itself in my side on impact."

"Lanie," her name came out as a breath as his fingers traced over her skin. 

Scar after scar, each and every little one a small reminder of everything she'd been through. Every moment he wasn't by her side to remind her how amazing she was to him. He didn't see the ugliness that she did, all Sam saw was a strong, incredible woman who had been through hell and stood taller because of it. He saw her. 

He used his free hand to place two fingers under her chin and bring her eyes up to meet his, "You're beautiful, Lane. Every piece of you. Inside and out. And I will show you that as many times as you need me too and more, if you'll let me," he spoke quietly, drawing her closer, pressing their bodies together.

Sam felt her tremble when he dipped his head and his lips pressed to the scar on her shoulder. Her entire body giving into the soft, slow praises in the form of kisses. A tiny moan slipped from her tired lips as Sam began to show her just how beautiful each scar was. 

"I missed you," he said, so quietly it might have been missed over the sound of their breathing but it was out there and it was true. "More than anything."

"I missed you too, Sam," she breathed, as she tilted her head back and to the side as Sam's lips trailed up her neck to her earlobe. 

His fingertips dug gently into her skin as he moved up and pressed his forehead to hers. He needed her. He needed her to understand just how much he missed her. Just how beautiful she was in his eyes. Sam swooped down, and lifted Lane into his arms, pulling a giggled from her perfect lips as she pulled back a little to look at him. 

Sam shook his head once, and rounded the couch, heading straight down the hallway to his bedroom. There was no way his first time with her was going to be on a couch or the floor of the living room. Those pesky butterflies tickled his chest once more the closer they got and he let the feeling of them wash over him just like her warm citrus scent. 

"Sam," Lane practically whined as she dipped her head and kissed a small scar he had on his collarbone.

Electricity shot down from his head to his toes as her lips touched his skin. He’d been waiting, dreaming of her back in his arms for so long and here she was, finally. His Lanie. 

He held her tighter reaching a hand out to open his door as quickly as possible, once inside he kicked the door shut and walked them over to his bed. Lane kissed a line up his neck as she ran her fingers delicately through his scalp. A shiver ran up his spine as she reached his jaw and pulled back to meet his eyes. He propped his knee on the mattress before softly laying Lanie against it. He stared at her, looking just like the angel she was to him with her hair spread out along the mattress. Her throat bobbed under his gaze, and her breaths picked up, Sam smiled at her soft and full of all the love he’d been holding onto for her. 

He pushed her legs open a bit with his leg before he settled into a hover atop her body, holding onto his weight he dipped his head and touched his nose to hers eliciting a gasp from her lips. 

“Can I kiss you Lanie, please?” He whispered, his heart pounding in his chest. 

“If you don’t I’m definitely gonna kiss you,” she said with a soft chuckle.

Sam didn't hesitate, dipping into her soft laughter and consuming it whole. He wanted everything. Her lips felt like heaven dancing against his as he cupped her face and tangled his fingers into her hair. He missed her so much that nothing else mattered, he barely remembered to breathe. Her mouth parted and he swiped his tongue against hers, deepening their connection as her hands roamed his chest and back. 

Her fingers dragged over his shoulder blades, tickling his skin and drawing a throaty laugh from him as he broke away. 

"I'm glad we haven't forgotten everything," he winked at her as he pulled away and started to work down her throat with his teeth and lips.

Her soft laugh turned into a breathy moan as he moved over her skin, paying attention to the little scars that littered it like a story of everything she'd overcome. "My strong," he dragged his lips across her collarbone, "incredible," a soft kiss to the scar on her shoulder, "beautiful, girl" he moved down to press his lips to the large scar on her side. 

Her breath picked up pace as her fingers trailed, "Baby please," Lane whispered, as her eyes followed him down her body, "Come back to me," 

Sam obeyed, stretching his body back up and capturing her lips with his with more passion than he knew what to do with. Everything he'd ever dreamed of was laying beneath him and it was his new mission to make her understand how much she meant to him.

Sam pulled his lips from hers with a soft tug of her bottom lip, pulling a whine from her with the action. He kissed along her jaw and down her neck the soft mewls coming from her pushing him forward. He reached the curve of her breasts and breathed in her scent, smiling against her skin. 

“Sam please,” Lane whispered. 

He pressed wet  kisses along her clothed breasts, flicking his tongue lightly along her pebbled nipples. He pulled back, smiling at her and moved a hand under her lifting her gently, pressing her chest flush against his. 

“I’m taking this off now, yes?” 

Lane nodded and took his lips in his in a feverish kiss.

Sam smiled against her skin as his fingers worked deftly at her bra, unhooking it with ease and tossing it aside. He palmed her breast and brought her exposed nipple between his lips, sucking gently until her hips arched into his touch. Her hands raked over his scalp as he massaged her chest. 

"What do you want?" He asked her, not knowing where to start himself. His touch was fuzzy against her warm skin and all he wanted to do was kiss her until she begged him to stop.

"You... just you," Lane breathed, moving her hips up into his, "touch me, baby, please" 

Sam groaned into her skin at her words, kissing his way down her body and stopping at the edge of her panties, "Can I take these off, beautiful?" he hummed. 

It still felt surreal to him that she was here, allowing him to explore her body and take in each and every sound she made for him. He wanted to savour the moment, remember every movement but his own body betrayed him. It ached to touch her and drink her in, to keep her skin pressed against his and make her whine his name over and over. 

With a nod of her head, Sam hooked his fingers into the sides and pulled them down her legs, pressing soft kisses along the way until he flung her panties across his room, landing them over a picture of him and Steve, making Lane giggle softly.

He sat back and admired her taking his time to commit every single inch of her body to memory. He wrapped his fingers delicately around her ankle lifting her leg up and pressing his lips to her calf with a teasing smile as she writhed under his touch. 

“Really, all this time and you wanna tease me now?” 

Sam breathed a laugh against her skin, pressing more kisses along her leg, inching closer to her center painfully slow even for himself. 

“I’m savoring you,” he hummed. “Two very different things, your cute little scowl is just a bonus.”

"This cute little scowl is impatient," Lane cooed at him but her words were swallowed by a sharp gasp. 

Sam's tongue flickered out over Lane, already so wet and sweet. He couldn't stop himself as his hand roamed over her hip and pressed against her stomach. He peered up at her, drinking in how euphoric she had become under his touch. He worked in slow circles that drew the sweetest sounds from her lips as he quickened in pace, chasing the sounds of her pleasure.

Lane’s hands ground him in place, soft but firm as her hips moved in sync with his tongue. Her moans filling the room as she whispered his name over and over like a prayer as she chased her high. Sam felt her tense up beneath him before he fingers reached for his cheek, calling his attention to her. 

“Sam please, I need to feel you,” She panted and he smiled pressing a kiss to her thigh, “Come here handsome.”

Despite wanting to please her, Sam took his time, kissing his way back up her body, paying specific attention to each scar that littered her torso. A soft whine escaped her lips and her soft hands found his cheeks as she gently tried to pull him back to her. 

"So impatient," Sam whispered, ghosting his lips up her throat and capturing her with his before she could say anything, tangling their tongues together and letting her taste her sweetness. 

He settled himself between her legs and teased her entrance with the head of his cock, ignoring his own throbbing to take in more of her beautiful pleading sounds. He hoped to any god listening that they would have many more moments like this, just the two of them enjoying each other, but he also knew that life could be reckless and unpredictable, their scars telling that exact story to one another. It just made this moment with his girl all that more important to him. 

Lane's hand travelled down and cupped his ass, urging him forward, "Sammy," she breathed against his lips.

Nothing else mattered in that moment as he slipped into her entrance with a soft, silky thrust that melted their bodies together. She was so tight that it took him an moment to adjust, gently rocking his hips back and forth until she was a puddle of breathless moans and tiny huffs. His lips found hers again, needy and hungry for more. He wanted to be closer than ever before and he accomplished that mission with each thrust forward. 

"You're so beautiful," he hummed when he parted, cupping her face with his hand and admiring the soft freckles that danced across the bridge of her nose. Her lips partially open and her eyes searching his as they rocked together at a delicious pace chasing their high in unison.

His fingers danced along her skin trailing from her cheek down her side. Her scarred skin was soft and smooth under his touch while he mapped a constellation of scars on her side. Lane wriggled beneath him, her moans bringing a smile to his face. There were so many times that he felt an incredible pang in his chest with every moment he ached for her and now having her so close feeling the way her body molds to his, Sam wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to let her go after this. 

“Lanie,” he breathed, dipping his head and pressing soft chaste kisses along her collar bone to the spot on her neck that always makes her squirm. His hands traveled down her sides to the outside of her thighs, pulled her even closer and hiked her hips off of the bed in a new angle, one that dragged a delicious moan from her lips.

Lane's head lifted as she pressed a kiss to the scar on his collarbone, gasping into his skin as he thrust forward and hit her sensitive spot. A shiver of pleasure shot down his spine as she gripped his length tighter and fluttered around him, her orgasm growing within her. They're soft sounds echoed through his room as his pace became quick and needy, chasing their highs together. 

"Sammy," she whined, moving her hips in tandem with his, craving the same closeness that he was as her head fell back into his pillow and pressed backwards. 

The pressure grew deep within his stomach but Sam needed her to reach her climax first. He needed to give that to her, to feel her pleasure erupt around him.

Her nails dug into his skin as her breathing became ragged and her body tensed in his arms. He felt the cord snap within her as his name danced off her lips in a series of breathless moans that made him heavy dizzy with pride. 

"That's my girl, keeping going," he praised both verbally and physically as he picked up the pace, his rhythm growing sloppy as he chased her orgasm in search of his own.  Her lips on his skin was enough to drive him crazy as her cunt fluttered around him, dragging him inch for inch closer to the edge.

She felt like heaven around him, gripping his length and still fluttering. Warmth spread through his veins and pleasure curled around his lower back the further he pushed himself. Lane’s moans turned into soft whimpers as he buried his face into the crook of her neck, whispering soft praises as his hips snapped against hers, out of rhythm until it was too much. He felt her nails dig into his back, her legs hooked around his waist as he came. 

His hips slowed, rocking lazily as he trailed kisses along the inside of her neck.

Her fingers trailed up his spine and scraped into his scalp as she did her best to catch her breath. The overwhelming sense of comfort drifted over Sam as he kept his lips pressing into her skin, relishing in the moment of their bodies together. The sound of a hitch in her breath made him sit up slightly, catching her soft brown eyes with his own as he furrowed his brow. 

"Lanie, what's wrong? Did I hurt you?" He asked, his hand coming up to cup her cheek gently. 

She shook her head with a ghost of a smile and placed her hand over his, "I just - I missed you so much, Sam" 

With a small breath of relief, Sam returned the smile, leaning his forehead down against hers and brushing their noses together, "I missed you too, Lanie. More than you know"

#sam wilson #sam wilson au #captain america #captain america au #sam wilson oneshot #sam wilson one shot #sam wilson imagine #sam wilson smut #sam wilson x oc #marvel imagine #marvel oneshot #marvel one shot #marvel au #marvelous #fluff #hurt/comfort #friends to lovers #one shot

[crazyunsexycool]

A lil childhood friends to lovers prompt for a drabble?

'There was always that one place they would both run off to - to escape parents, annoying siblings and just the world in general. They haven’t had contact in a long time, but when things get rough, they both end up in their safe place again.'

Meet me at our spot

Sam Wilson x Reader

A/N: since there’s no specific pairing I chose Sam. Kind of a college AU.

It was hot but that was Louisiana still there was no where else you’d rather be. It would be better if your life long best friend would be here but it’s been a while since you’d talk to him and even longer since you’ve seen him in person. He had been the one to find the secluded lake, dock included. It was both of your safe haven. From school bullies to overbearing parents and annoying siblings. The lake and the dock was just for the two of you but recently it was only yours.

With your feet dangling over the edge of the dock and the sun beating down on you, you breathed a sigh of relief. You lay back and wonder why you’d bothered to come back home for the short school break. Your parents kept nagging you about the major you’d chosen. It was getting to be too much staying in the house so you’d gone to your spot.

After a few minutes you feel and hear footsteps on the short wooden dock and you tilt your head back. You’re surprised to see a military uniform and none other than your life long best friend Sam Wilson looking down at you amused.

“Sam?” You sit up and turn around to get a proper look at him. He looked great. Definitely much broader and sturdier than when he left for boot camp two and a half years ago.

“The one and only.”

You stood and closed the small gap between the two of you and threw your arms around his shoulders.

“I can’t believe you’re here. You look great.” You murmur.

“So do you.”

“So what brings you back home?” You ask once you pull away.

“I’m on leave. Just for a few days.”

You nod as you sit back down, Sam taking his usual spot beside you. The two of you catch up on what you’ve been up to for the last two years. You offer him a drink from the cooler you always brought out.

As the sunsets you both finally get up and start heading back.

“Why did you never reply to my letters?”

“I didn’t want to worry you.” Sam says as you both start walking toward the hidden trail.

You stop and look up at him. This was probably the only time you’d see him before you went back to college and him back to the Air Force.

“Don’t lie to me.”

Sam sighed and looked back toward the lake. You didn’t say anything while he worked through whatever it was that was going through his head.

“There’s something that I wanted to tell you for a really long time but every time I wanted to say it I got scared. Then we both went out separate ways and I thought that time apart would be good and I’d get over what I had to get over.” He says after looking at you. “Then I got your letters and I knew that I needed to tell you the truth but I thought that saying it over and over letter wasn’t the right thing to do either.”

By now your heart was beating wildly. Whatever he had to say could be anything. Maybe he didn’t want to be friends with you anymore. Or worse maybe he found someone and you never got a chance to tell him how you felt.

“The truth is that I’m in love with you. I thought that’s something you deserve to hear in person.”

“You what?” You stared at him wide eyed.

Sam laughs and shakes his head. He can’t help but take in how beautiful you look in the last few rays of the sun.

“I said I’m in love with you. I have been for a while. I don’t know if that will ruin the friendship but this time apart made me realize that it wasn’t just some dumb little crush. It’s ok if you don’t feel the same.”

“I do.” You nod excitedly before smiling. “I do I love you too. It’s why I was so hurt that you never replied. I thought I’d done something wrong.”

“Yeah, about that.”

Sam pulls out envelopes out of his pockets and presents them to you. There aren’t as many as you wrote him but each envelope was thick.

“Here is every single reply to your letters.”

Tears well in your eyes as you take them from him. You smile up at Sam and then throw your arms around his neck and your lips slot over his.

“I love you.” Sam murmurs in between kisses and pulling you closer to himself. “Go out with me.”

“I love you too.” You reply. “I’d love too.”

Some of the most important moments in your relationship with Sam happened at the lake it made sense that you confessed your love for each other in the place that watched it bloom. It was more than just a lake, it was your sanctuary, safe place, it was your spot.

#Sam Wilson x reader #Sam Wilson Drabble #Sam Wilson fluff #Sam Wilson au

[sjsmith56]

Decisions - Chapter 10, Lord Buchanan

Summary: Thorn plans a speedy coronation to strengthen control of his throne. When the Queen and Ladies arrive, Lady Falcon is presented to the King, drawing the ire of her father, Lord Dreykov. Forced to back down in front of the assembly he leaves. King Steven sends Lord Falcon back to his lands to protect them from any usurpers.

Characters: Lord and Lady Buchanan, Lord and Lady Falcon, King Steven and Queen Peg, Lord Dreykov.

Warnings: Minors DNI - contains sexual content which is not suitable for readers under the age of 18. References to forced marriage and servitude. Talk of sexuality.

Author notes: Image of Bucky Barnes (Lord Buchanan) in the banner above is from Instagram artist Nixakimbo. More backstory about Natasha’s father because we just know he’s not going to sit idly by while she marries who she pleases. The young woman with him is not named in this chapter but she becomes very important in later chapters, helping to drive the plot along with another MCU character who ended up being given a much bigger role in this medieval world. That’s where the muse took me, lol.

<<Chapter 9

🧼 🍺

Queen Peg and Lady Buchanan were at breakfast when the falconer approached them with a message from the King. He handed the rolled up paper to the Queen and returned to his birds of prey. Peg unrolled it, read it, and her face broke out in a smile.

"The war is over," she said. "Prince Thorn has regained his kingdom. The King has directed us to bring any wives of the lords who are staying with us to attend the coronation. They also require a priest to conduct the ceremony and to bring clothes suitable for the occasion."

"I will advise Lady Falcon," said Ileana. "I believe Lady Stark is also here. Is it safe to leave the castle?"

"The Queen's Guard will still be responsible for defence of the castle," said Peg. "We will take our own attendants with us. Alert the staff to gather in the throne room and I will make the announcement."

Ileana alerted the staff to spread the word about the gathering in the throne room. By the time she returned it was already full and people spilled out into the large corridor outside. Peg began talking.

"Could we get everyone at the front to come closer together?" she announced. "There are many still out in the corridor."

Finally everyone was squeezed in and Ileana was able to make her way to the front.

"Good people," said Peg. "I received a message early this morning that the war is over, the situation is resolved and a new King will be crowned for the Kingdom of Green Lands. There have been some losses, although I do not have the names of those who fell, and if your husband was one of the fallen you will be taken care of, I promise. The King has ordered me, and the wives of lords who have taken refuge here to journey to the battlefield and together attend King Thorn's coronation. Those of you who travelled here for safe refuge may return to your homes. Those who live here, specifically the Queen's Guard, will be asked to continue to defend the castle until the return of the King and me."

"Your Majesty," shouted one man. "What of the church?"

"When they refused to recognize my authority and left the kingdom to fend for itself the church forfeited all their rights," said the Queen. "You may still worship at their places of worship if you wish to continue with the old church but we are starting our own church with some of the priests that remained. It's goal will be to help the kingdom raise the standard of living for everyone instead of making itself rich."

There were several murmurs but the Queen noticed most of the facial expressions were hopeful rather than upset. Satisfied that she could leave the castle under the protection of the Queen's Guard, she and the other ladies prepared to join their husbands on the battlefield then go on to the coronation. Ileana decided on wearing the same gold gown she wore to Lord Falcon's investiture. Alice packed it for her as well as two other regular gowns. She laid out the riding clothes for her to wear on horseback but Ileana looked at her breeches.

"I'm going to see the Queen before I change into the riding clothes," she told Alice. "I won't be long."

Hurrying to the Queen's quarters she was admitted and saw Peg also contemplating whether to wear riding clothes or her breeches.

"Is it too much too soon to ride into the battlefield dressed like the men?" asked the Queen. "I've become used to wearing them this past week."

"The women archers that Archer Barton recruited dressed like men," said Ileana. "I think if we rode in our breeches it would show them we are with them. We can change into our traditional riding clothes once there if anyone grumbles about it."

"I suppose you're right," she said. "Pass the word to the other ladies that we ride in breeches."

Soon they were ready to leave, with every lady wearing leather breeches to ride. Most were armed with a Queen's pistol or a sword. The King sent some men back to escort the women to the battlefield and at first they were surprised to see them in breeches and with arms, but when they saw how well the women rode it felt more natural to them and they held their tongues. When they rode into the combined camp of the King and Lords it made no difference at all as most of them smiled broadly at the arrival of their ladies. Surprisingly the men looked clean and refreshed themselves.

"We found a hot springs, not even half an hour from here," said the King to the women. "After so many days of fighting it was well worth the trip to cleanse ourselves in its waters. If you wish to go we would be happy to escort you there and guard your presence so you may enjoy it for yourselves. I'm of a mind to build a pavilion there, a respite home for those who wish to rejuvenate themselves."

Peg looked at Ileana and mouthed the word "Spa", which brought them both almost to laughter. The plan was to stay at the battlefield in the tents that had been erected for their shelter until word was sent that Prince Thorn was ready to receive them. The priest who accompanied the Queen, a monk by the name of Erasmus, went on to prepare the new king for his coronation. The Queen brought him specifically as he had approached her after the departure of the bishop to ask if she objected to him simplifying worship in the church. He made it clear he did not serve the King or herself but rather the Truth and God. He had always felt there was too much mysticism in the rituals of the church and wanted it to appeal to the sensibilities of everyone. After the monk's departure the King gave everyone the freedom to escort their ladies to their tents and conduct themselves as they wished. For many this command was accepted with large smiles.

While a groom came for the horse that Ileana rode Lord Buchanan offered her his arm and escorted her to his tent. Expecting to see something rough and primitive she was amazed to see a tent constructed out of painted canvas with a peaked top so rain could fall off. Inside was a large bed set atop a wooden platform with sturdy crates underneath. To the side was a sitting area made of large cushions on top of a canvas covering rough cut furniture built from trees cut from the nearby forest. One full side was open to the outside but when Lord Buchanan nodded at one of his servants they pulled a curtain across so the couple were alone. Immediately he stood in front of her and embraced her fully with deep kisses.

"It hasn't been long, my love," he said, after taking a brief moment between kisses, "but it feels like an eternity since we shared our marital bed. Come, I need to taste you and claim you as mine own once again."

Quickly they undressed and got under the covers where he gazed at her for some minutes, tracing her face with his fingertips and touching her hair, which she had unbraided and let loose.

"I missed you, James," Ileana whispered. "I worried about you on the battlefield."

"I survived," he said, then he looked down before looking her in the eye again. "There was something I didn't tell you when we married. There was an enchantment upon me, where I turned into a great white wolf. It was done by an evil man, a sorcerer, who tried to use me to kill the King. Only Steven's great love for me as a brother brought me out of the enchantment, but I am not cured of it. To rescue Prince Thorn it became necessary for me to assume the skin of the white wolf once more. The Sorceress implanted commands in my mind to allow my men to return me to human form. At first, it didn't work, and for a time I thought I would be a wolf forever, destined to love you and the child I hope you carry, from afar."

"Is that why you rode under the banner of the white wolf?" asked Ileana, her hand at his cheek.

"It was," he said. "I knew my wolf form would likely be needed. There is a hope that I have broken the enchantment as I killed the sorcerer who laid that curse upon me. I haven't tried to assume the form since but if ever I go away and a white wolf comes to you with recognition in its eyes say the words Longing, Daybreak, Homecoming. It will restore me to human form because the Sorceress also instilled your face deep in my mind as my mate, my one and only true love."

Pulling her face to his they kissed deeply. Their tongues explored the other's mouth and their bodies intertwined as they felt the comfort of her soft skin and his body warmth joining together. She pushed him backwards onto his back and took him into her mouth as he caressed her hair before pulling her off and positioning her on top of him. He wanted to see her in her glory, her hair falling like a wild forest nymph over her face and breasts. Her eyes filled with desire as they thrust together in the merging of their bodies and he firmly grasped her body at the hips rolling her forward over the part of him that would excite her being. She held her own breasts and then put her hands down to his hands before leaning over and kissing him sensuously as she moved her body into his. With soft whimpers and moans he felt her excitement building and caressed her breasts while touching her spot with his thumb to bring her to the crest of her passions. Her cry of joy at the release spurred him and he lifted himself hard into her, sending his seed deep into her with a cry of his own. Pulling her down onto his chest he kissed her head and stroked her hair as she clung to his body after they had returned to a state of contentment and peace.

"My wife," he whispered. "Thank you for staying with me. I truly don't think I could have survived if you had returned to your world."

"My James, my husband," she whispered back. "It was the only choice. As much as I will miss my world, you are my world now and I couldn't leave you behind."

Repositioning herself to lay in his arms Ileana and Buchanan laid quietly as they heard the sounds of the camp all around them. Elsewhere they could hear the sounds of passion as other lords and their ladies resumed their marital activities. It struck Ileana as funny that in her world the sounds of passion between a couple were to be kept private but in this world it seemed to be part of everyday sounds. Buchanan asked what was so humorous and she told him.

"I have no answer for you," he said after some thought. "Perhaps, in your world a certain morality has been imposed upon you that says what happens between a couple is something to be hidden. Certainly, the church in recent years has come down against a woman coupling with another woman, or a man coupling with another man. It makes no difference to me and I was heartened to hear the Queen's Guard gives a place to those women that the church, or perhaps I should say the Bishop because the remaining priests seem indifferent, deemed deviant. I wouldn't make love to you in full view of my men, or our children because I want you for myself and no one else. Yet, if they hear us outside these canvas walls it gives me no trouble for in here, it is just us two, as it should be. It is the sound of life as normal, I suppose."

"My Lord Buchanan," said a voice outside the walls. "The King has requested the presence of yourself and Lady Buchanan at a meal in his pavilion. One hour hence."

"Thank you," called Buchanan. "We serve at the pleasure of the King."

He looked at Ileana and kissed her. "Gerard has already prepared a bath, knowing my intentions after you arrived," he said. "We will wash your ride off of you and be ready to be dressed for dinner. I trust you brought Alice with you."

"I did, my lord," she replied, "and several gowns. It will feel strange to wear one as none of the ladies at the castle have worn anything except breeches since the war began."

"I thought there would be more of an outcry against them but there was very little," he said. "It's possible you may be able to wear them more often. They have grown upon me, I must admit. But I do like to see you dressed in a gown as well. It is something we will have to work out between us."

A dressing gown was draped on the chair next to the bed for each of them and the pair donned them. Pulling back a tapestry Ileana was impressed to find a small room with a bathtub made of thick canvas treated to be impervious to water. Buchanan held her hand as she stepped into the warm waters and sat, watching as she bathed for it wasn't big enough for them both. Gerard informed Buchanan from outside the small bathing room that his clothes were ready and he left to get dressed. Upon his exit Alice entered and ascertained which gown Ileana wanted for the meal. She excused herself and returned shortly with a drying cloth, helping her lady out of the makeshift tub. Lifting another tapestry Ileana was surprised to find a dressing room set up just for her. It seemed strange for Alice to be attending to her once again.

"Alice," said Ileana, "this seems strange to have you dress me. I had become used to dressing myself. What did you do with yourself during the war? I never really considered you, I'm sorry."

"M'Lady," said Alice, "I found a place with the doctor, a woman from your time. She was most kind and instructed me in wound dressing and care. She thinks I may have the ability to become a midwife, which is an honoured profession for a woman."

"That's wonderful," exclaimed Ileana. "Will you explore that possibility further?"

"I would like to," said Alice. "Perhaps I can learn enough to become your midwife, M'Lady."

"I would like that also," said Ileana. "Your future husband could join the Buchanan estate and you could both serve all of our community."

Alice smiled and finished tying the back of the red dress. She styled Ileana's hair and then opened the tapestry out to the main part of the tent, which once again had one side open to the fresh air. Lord Buchanan rose from his chair and smiled warmly at Ileana, back in a dress again. Offering her his arm they walked to the King's pavilion and joined the other lords and ladies present there. Lord Buchanan saw Lord Falcon and his bride off to the side looking somewhat unsure.

"Sam," said Buchanan, "you have every right to be here. You are confirmed as Lord."

"It's not that," said Sam. "Natasha's father is here. They haven't spoken for over two years and we don't want to cause a scene at a happy celebration."

Sam pointed across to the other side of the pavilion where a large, florid man with a large tankard of beer was standing giving his opinion to any who would listen. He recalled the man was one of the last of those who rejoined the battle after the trebuchets had been destroyed and instantly disliked him. A widower, his companion for the meal was a young woman whose father had seen an opportunity to marry her off to strengthen ties between the two families but she didn't look happy about it and Buchanan felt distasteful about the whole practice.

"Let's go to the King," said Buchanan, "as your lady still has to be presented to him. Once that is done her father cannot make a scene or he risks offending the throne."

Together the four made their way to the King and Queen. They sat on chairs set on a raised platform built for the occasion. As they approached the King smiled broadly at them.

"Lord Falcon," he said with a smile. "The Queen told me of your marriage. You wish to take one of her best fighters away from the castle?"

"Your Majesty," said Sam, bowing. "May I present my wife, Natasha, Lady Falcon, also of the Queen's Guard. She will serve again when required."

The King stepped down and took her by the hand. "Lady Falcon," he said. "We are certain you will be happy with your Lord. He has served us well these many years and is a man of great honour."

Lady Falcon curtsied low. "Your Majesty is very kind," she said. "He is the best of men and I am a fortunate woman."

Buchanan looked towards Lady Falcon's father, noticing his frown. He came forward towards the king.

"Your Majesty," said Lord Dreykov, "why is my daughter being presented as the wife of your falconer? For two years she has been missing with her sister. I have not given permission for this marriage."

"Your permission is no longer required," said the King. "Your daughters were admitted into the Queen's Guard, which removed all prior ties on them. They became free women, with the ability to decide for themselves. The falconer, if you had bothered to attend the ceremony, is now Baron of Eden Vale, Lord Falcon, and your equal. The marriage has been sanctified by the church and I have received her as Lady Falcon."

Lord Dreykov sputtered and fumed, drawing dark looks from the King. "This is an outrage," he roared. "I won't stand for it."

"Are you challenging your King?" asked Lord Buchanan coolly. "Speak carefully, Lord Dreykov. You are close to declaring yourself an enemy of the crown."

Lord Dreykov looked around and noticed that many he had considered friends were drawing themselves away from him, leaving him alone in front of the King. Even the young woman had disappeared. His face grew red and his whole demeanour became defiant.

"By my recollection you became Lord of the North Lands after you offered fealty to my father," said King Steven. "Also by my recollection you were one of the first lords to submit to Thanos, the mad Titan after he slew my father and seized control of the kingdom. You were also the first lord to leave the battlefield during the fight against Prince Loke and the last to return. If you do not wish to continue to offer complete fealty to me, then I would happy to remove you from the responsibility of your lands. You have no sons to pass your title to. How you answer now will determine whether you stay as lord or not."

At first he was defiant then he bowed low before the King. "I apologize for my outburst," he said civilly. "I will not stand in the way of my daughter arranging her own marriage. Nor will I object to my other daughter's choice. I am pleased they are both safe and have been under your guidance and care these past two years."

Dreykov backed away, grabbing another tankard of beer, then retreating to the other side of the tent. The young woman had disappeared and a servant whispered to the King that she was riding to the castle to present herself to the Queen's Guard.

"You may have started something," said Peg, in a low voice to the King. "I am sure many of the Lords will not be happy about it."

The King sighed. "Let's get this meal going. Perhaps with a full belly they may be more amenable to the changes I plan on bringing."

A servant called everyone to eat and they stepped outside where a large table had been set up piled high with food. The mood did improve once people ate and the meal finished with no more challenges or problems. An emissary from Thorn brought the news that his coronation was set for the following afternoon and the assembled lords and their ladies would be welcomed starting that evening if they wished to proceed.

"The Prince seems to have worked quickly to prepare his castle for his coronation," announced the King. "He has invited those of you assembled to begin arriving at his castle starting tonight."

"If we choose not to go?" asked Lord Dreykov.

"Then go to your estates," said the King. "See to your tenants, your lands, and return to your castles. I don't require your attendance at King Thorn's coronation to confirm your fealty to me."

"By your leave, your Majesty, I choose to return to my lands," said Dreykov, bowing low.

Two other lords also begged to be allowed to return to their lands which the King granted. After they left the King beckoned Buchanan and Falcon to him.

"Have your men left the field of battle yet?" he asked. "Dreykov's lands border both of yours and I wonder if he has ulterior motives for leaving early. He was not at either of your investitures and I know he complained bitterly at not being given either of your lands. The other two lords live at the other edge of the kingdom and I know they worry about bandit incursions but Dreykov...I do not trust the man. The Sorceress has become aware of talk of discontent at the changes I wish to bring to the kingdom and he is at the centre of much of the talk."

"My men are still here," said Buchanan. "What are your wishes, your Majesty?"

"Send them back, but have them be on alert for any raids on your tenants," he replied. "Captain Rhodes is trustworthy enough to send in your place. Sam? Your men."

"I already sent them back," he said. "Although most fought well during the battle against the outlanders there are some whose loyalty was questionable. They may be easily swayed to join Dreykov if he dangles enough gold to them."

"I believe him to still be angry at the marriage between his daughter and yourself," said the King. "I can send a company of my men back with you and your knights, if you wish, to protect your lands. Your lady may stay and represent you at the coronation. King Thorn will understand if you must go back. I hate to ask this of you but Dreykov acquiesced too quickly in the matter of his daughters."

"Your Majesty, I trust your assessment of the man," said Falcon. "I will take you up on your offer and leave immediately. I will apprise Lady Falcon of the situation and trust her to represent me at the coronation. If the situation develops as you suspect I will send a messenger hawk."

Falcon bowed to the King and pulled his wife, the Lady Natasha, with him to their tent. Only a short time before they had reunited as the other Lords and Ladies had, enjoying the touch of each other once again but this time his face was dark as he changed out of his finery and into his battle clothing once more. His dresser maintained a stony face of indifference as the couple discussed the dilemma.

"The King believes your father intends to attack my properties as revenge for me wedding you," he said with directness. "You must stay and represent me at the coronation while I return to my lands with a company of the King's men and what knights I can round up that haven't already left."

"My love," said Natasha, "let me accompany you. I am well versed in the fighting arts and can be as good a soldier as any of your men."

"I have no doubt about that my love," said Falcon, stopping to caress her cheek, "but the King has commanded you stay for the coronation. After, if you so desire and I still live, you may come and prove your worth on the battlefield. It would not bother you to fight your father's men?"

"Some of them, yes," she admitted, "for there were several who didn't agree with his treatment of me and my sister. They showed us kindness and taught us to fight. I may be able to convince them to lay down their arms. But most were of the same nature as my father, cruel men who saw us as useless appendages made to adorn their person."

"I will send a messenger hawk if I need more help," he said, as he belted on his scabbard and picked up his thick leather gloves. "Until then be Lady Falcon, beloved wife and do your duty at the coronation."

He kissed her, tenderly, then fiercely before leaving. She didn't cry but she wasn't happy. The dresser, a young man name Tom, watched his mistress intently.

"M'Lady," he said. "If you wish, I could arrange to have your battle gear brought from the Queen's Guard, ready for you to change into immediately after the coronation. My sister is in the Guard and speaks highly of your skills as a warrior."

She smiled at the young man. "Who is your sister?"

"The maiden Lena Cooper," he replied. "I am Tom and was supposed to succeed my father in his barrel making shop when your father saw her and wanted her as his mistress. My father refused and was imprisoned by yours. Lena and I left that night. Lord Falcon was still Sir Sam Wilson and kept us hidden in the falconer's cottage. Then he brought us with him to the King's palace. My sister joined the Guard immediately. M'Lord asked if I would stay as his dresser, despite my lack of knowledge. He has been a most kind master and I wish to repay him."

"Advise my dresser to prepare my clothing for the coronation. I will leave within the hour. Then send for my battle gear and my sister, the Lady Yelena as well," said Natasha. "She will want to be of assistance in this matter. As soon as the coronation is over I will return here, dress in my battle gear and join my husband in protecting his lands. Your sister is a sweet young woman and has been a good student in the fighting arts. She isn't ready for battle yet or else I would say to bring her. Thank you, Tom."

Natasha left to search out the Queen, as she was her commander, to let her know of her intentions. When she found her the Queen was in the process of arranging for other members of the Queen's Guards who had been wronged by her father, and there were several, to be part of the company the King was sending with Lord Falcon. When Natasha declared her intention the decision was made to bring them to her tent and await her return from the coronation. She would be in charge of the first unit of Queen's Guards sent to assist a Lord in securing the sovereignty of his lands.

Chapter 11>>

Series Masterlist

Please like, comment and reblog.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #buckybarnes original female character #medieval bucky #james buchanan barnes au #bucky barnes au #steve rogers au #sam wilson au

[samwilsonshandsandass]

Some Bad Luck Makes Good Things Happen

Pairing: florist!Sam Wilson x reader Summary: You’re in search of a flower shop for a friend’s wedding. When the shop you chose is suddenly out of business, you literally run into your salvation. Will something more come of it? Warnings: none, it’s all fluff Word count: around 2K A/N: @hot-chocolates-world did a florist!Sam Wilson AU moodboard some months ago and I had the inspiration to write something with the moodboard in the back of my mind and I feel like there's not enough Sam Wilson AUs

A wedding in your friends circle was in the works and one of the brides, Mina, had asked those closest to her to help with preparations. On the list where things like flowers, color scheme with appropriate fabrics, pastries, cakes (specifically a different point than ‘pastries’) and flowers.

You volunteered yourself for the flowers, since there had just opened a flower shop around your blocks corner.

The flower shop around the corner seemed like it would make nice arrangements, since they had quite the selection on display. During your lunch break, you went there and promptly an employee asked if she could help you.

“Yes, I’m looking for a flower shop that can supply the wedding of a friend with fifteen flower arrangements.”

“Of course. You’ve come to the right place. I’ll show you what we could do on the tablet and if you like that, we can move on to the real thing and deliver them the day of.”

“That sounds nice. I thought of calla lilies, baby’s breath and pink roses.”

The employee showed you what she’d do and you agreed with her selection to move forward. Two days later, you got a call to see the example arrangement in the flesh. At the shop, the flowers looked every bit like you imagined them. You paid the deposit and were in high hopes for the wedding.

The wedding came closer and closer, only ten days now. Your stroll took you around the neighborhood to the flower shop but what you saw made you stop dead in your tracks. The store front was dark, the sign above the door was missing and the inside was devoid of anything. No flowers, no tables, no bowls, no register. Next morning, you tried calling and googling them. It seemed like they had never existed. You called your friend and explained what had happened and ended with the promise to try and get replacements. She agreed about it being unlucky but told you she was thankful for you trying to fix a mess you weren’t responsible for.

You had been able to get out of work early and took a stroll in the evening light. Deep in thought, you bumped into something soft.

“Oof.” Came from in front of you.

The man turned around.

“I’m so-“ You cut yourself off when you looked at his face.

“Don’t worry about it.” He brushed it off.

“I should’ve watched where I’m going.” You shook your head.

“Deep in thought?”

“A bit. I’m just wondering where to get flower arrangements for my friend’s wedding.”

The man grinned at that.

“What’s so funny?” You questioned.

“Look behind me for a second.”

You did and saw a store front with double doors. The shop was dark inside but the street light and setting sun cast light onto several baskets full of different flowers, tablets saying which and how many flowers cost what and some arrangements. Above the doors stood in colorful, romantic letters “Sam’s Flowers”.

“I’m guessing you’re Sam?” You chuckled.

“Bingo. And you are?”

“Y/N.” You held out your hand.

Sam shook it, after transferring a small flower bouquet to his left hand.

“Flowers for your date?”

“Nah, flowers for me. No date in sight, just a good bottle of wine and a home cooked meal for myself.”

“I won’t keep you then. Have a nice evening.” You waved your hand and went home, as did Sam, you supposed. You thought about where to get flower arrangements and after a few steps you turned around.

“Uhm, Sam?” You called out.

He turned around. “Yeah?”

“Usually, I don’t do that to people almost on their way home after work… but…”

“But you’re in dire need of flower arrangements?”

“Yes, is it that obvious?”

“Just a little bit” Sam chuckled, although you could hear it wasn’t with mal intent, “You’re not the first one to be in that situation.”

Sam was quiet for a few seconds, as were you. “Tell you what. I usually open at 10am.”

Your face fell a little. You had to be at work at that time and usually arrived a few minutes early. “That’s the time work starts for me as well.”

“But, if you’re here tomorrow at around 9am, I’ll see what I can do, okay?”

You thanked Sam and both of you went your separate ways home.

Close to 9am you stood in front of Sam’s Flowers and thought about Sam’s offer. Waking up earlier, paying more for electricity, just for that one customer with bad luck. Did he do that for everyone who was in a pinch? Or could you get your hopes up about this beautiful man who just happened to be a florist?

At 9am on the dot, Sam arrived at his shop. He unlocked the doors and let you in. “You didn’t wait too long, I hope?”

“Rather I wait than you wait for me, especially when you open earlier for me.”

Sam smiled over his shoulder at you.

“Gimme a minute and we can talk about the arrangements.”

Some minutes later (not that you counted the minutes in which you didn’t see this incredibly beautiful florist) Sam came out the back in a deep red apron with his store’s logo on the front and carrying two mugs. “I never start my workday without coffee. I got some flavor, milk and sugar around here if you’d like.”

You couldn’t help but smile and feel something warm in your belly ascend. How was he so sweet? Was he this sweet to everyone who more or less made him come out before he even officially opened for the day?

“Uh, no thank you. Black coffee is enough.” You scratched your neck.

“Alright, then let’s get started. What, or who, am I working with?” Sam put his forearms on his worktable and looked at you from under his lashes. Why did you notice his lashes?

“Mina, that’s the one who’s getting married, wanted her favorite color in the arrangements and she doesn’t like too much green with her flowers, not even in actual bouquets she gets or buys for the house. Her favorite color’s orange. But I personally like mint and green in terms of colors. And a wedding with a ‘luxury’ motto should have some white, I think. And greenery.” You felt like you were rambling and couldn’t stop and why did you tell Sam about your favorite color? It wasn’t your wedding, you weren’t even in a relationship!

“I asked who I’m working with, not what the bride wants.”

“Why? I’m not getting married.” You looked at him quizzically.

“Usually when a friend of the bride is in charge of the flowers, the brides are happier with the arrangements I create on the brides’ friends’ basis than if the arrangement is based entirely on what the bride told me.”

“And that works?”

“Don’t worry your pretty head about hypothetical and former brides. I always ask the brides beforehand and ask them what they want. And then I make an alternative flower arrangement. Usually they like the first one better.”

“Then…” You trailed off.

“Tell me about yourself and the wedding. There’s gotta be a reason why you’re the one responsible for the flowers. What are you wearing? Mina’s wearing classical white, isn’t she?”

“Okay, so I’m Y/N, my favorite color is mint and my dress is also gonna be in that color. I work a boring nine to five office job and in my free time I craft with everything I can find, no matter if it’s fabric, wool, wood or anything else. The wedding’s motto is ‘luxury’, it starts with a religious ceremony and moves to a rented villa where everyone’s staying the night before sending off the bridal pair the next day to their honeymoon. It all takes place during the last days of summer and we’re all hoping for sunshine but rain isn’t off the table. But I’m one of those people who like rain.”

“Now I see why you’re the one with the flowers. Mina obviously trusted your eye for color coordination and ideas she may not have had. No offence to her. Don’t tell her I said that.”

You laughed. “And you can just work with that description? You don’t even need to know her favorite flowers? Or mine?” You smiled.

“You wait and see.”

You sipped your coffee, content to watch Sam walk around his store to gather flowers in orange and white and something mint colored you didn’t see fully at first glance. While working, Sam occasionally sipped his coffee. Now and then, he looked up across his worktable at you and smiled. Your eyes wandered between his hands, delicately working, soft and warm you guessed, and his face, concentrated eyes on his flowers.

Sam turned the arrangement with a flourish so you could see everything. The flowers were a mix of orange cornflowers, white larkspurs and orange dahlias all held together as an orb by mint-colored ribbons.

You gaped. “Sam… that’s beautiful! It looks way better than the arrangement they did at the first store. No offense to the people working there, though. Mina will love it!”

Minutes after you sent her a picture, she announced she’d come around the store in late afternoon to meet the man who worked magic like this.

“Told you.” Sam grinned and took your coffee cup from your hands. “Can I expect you to accompany the bride this afternoon?”

“I’ll try my best.” Your skin tingled as Sam squeezed your hand and you went to work.

In the afternoon Mina and you met up at the pastry shop that had become your favorite spot to have a pick me up.

“Is he cute?” Mina asked out of the blue around a mouthful of croissant.

“What?” You looked at her from the corner of your eye.

“The florist. Is he cute?”

You just nodded.

At the flower shop, you were greeted by Sam with a big grin and his grin got even bigger when Mina looked at the actual flower arrangement that Sam had put in a vase to keep them fresh.

“What do you think of the arrangement?”

“I love it! Can you do fifteen arrangements?”

“Of course. Tell me the address and date and I’ll be delivering and setting them up.”

Mina and Sam talked a bit more while you stood to the side and admired the different bouquets Sam had around his store as inspiration. Outside the store Mina linked arms with you.

“We can be lucky you found this shop. But tell me, did you ask for his number? Did he ask for yours?”

“I- what. That… I didn’t-“ You sputtered.

“So no. You don’t have his number, he doesn’t have yours. Despite that attraction between you two? Really?”

Your eyes went wide. “I… uh… I forgot this meeting I have this evening!” You turned on your heel and went in the direction you came from.

“Uh-hu.” Mina laughed and shook her head.

The day of the wedding arrived and since you did such a good job with selecting the flowers (while you always told Mina you just met Sam by chance and he was the one who did the actual work), she had put you in charge of coordinating Sam and the baker with their deliveries for the wedding at the venues’ backdoor. You and a mutual friend of you and Mina stood side by side to direct Sam and the baker with their respective vehicles to where they were needed. Two vehicles drove towards you. One was emblazoned with ‘Sam’s Flowers’ just as Sam’s store and the other one had ‘Godly Pastries’ written on it and stylized pastries around it.

Sam hopped out and went over to you and your friend. “Hey. I’m Sam, got all the flower arrangements.” He shook your friends’ hand.

“Pleasure.” She nodded at Sam but you knew your friend well enough to know she was as polite as she was able to in that moment, because she looked partly around Sam to that really tall and muscular blond, blue-eyed guy who exited the ‘Godly Pastries’ car.

“Hi. Thor.” He smiled and shook your friend’s hand and then yours. “I was told you’d tell me where to put my stuff?”

“Thor.” Your friend breathed after he let go of her hand.

“Yeah, my parents like unusual names.” He laughed. “So, uh, where should I put the goods?”

“I’ll show you. Just through this door here and down the hall. I’ll be with you in a minute.”

The moment Thor was inside the building she mumbled in your ear, “He can put his goods into me. And he’s mine, so hands off.” She smiled.

“Don’t worry, I got my florist and I’m not letting him go.”

“Wait. You got his number now?” She squealed, which made Sam look around the back of his vehicle and his flowers.

“Yeah. We may have a date in a week.” You mumbled, scratching your neck.

#sam wilson x reader insert #captain america x you #sam wilson x y/n #captain america x reader insert #sam wilson x you #captain america x y/n #sam wilson x reader #captain america x reader #my things #my writing #sam wilson fluff #florist!sam wilson #sam wilson #captain america #sam wilson au #sam wilson fanfic #sam wilson fanfiction #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction

[late-to-the-party-81]

Marvel One Shots - Full AU - Sam Wilson x Reader

Key: 🥰 Fluff 😭Angst 🍆Smut 🍑WLW smut 🌑Dark 🩸Violence 🌶 Suggestive

Whatta Man🥰🍆🍆

No powers AU - Camboy! Sam x Roommate Fem Reader

Versatile 🍆

No powers AU - Camboy!Sam x Roomate Fem Reader (Kintober 2022 Day 8)

#master list #sam wilson #sam wilson x reader #sam wilson x you #Sam Wilson AU

[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

#anonymityisfunwriter #anonymityisfun #anon's 1k celebration #sam wilson x you #sam wilson x y/n #sam wilson x reader #sam wilson x fem!reader #sam wilson x female reader #sam wilson fic #sam wilson fanfiction #sam wilson imagine #sam wilson fluff #sam wilson fanfic #sam wilson au #sam wilson angst #samuel thomas wilson #samuel wilson #sam wilson #reader insert #x reader #sam wilson x avenger!reader #the falcon and the winter soldier

[lunarbuck]

Naughty List

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

wc: 1.4k

summary: You and Sam make your way to the top of Santa's Naughty List.

warnings: fluff, holidays, oral (f receiving), smut (p in v), swearing, pet names (baby, Sugar)

a/n: This is my secret Santa gift for the lovely and amazing @late-to-the-party-81 as part of the 'Tis the Season to be Thot-y Challenge!! I hope you enjoy it :) I had so so so much fun writing it <3 Also, this is. my first time writing a Sam Wilson-centered fic; I hope I did him justice

⭐️ happy holidays ⭐️

Dialogue prompt: Santa doesn't need to know about this

Festive Device: Roaring fireplace

full masterlist | my ao3

You and Sam climb out of Steve’s car and wave your goodbyes as he pulls out of your driveway. Sam’s arm wraps around your waist, tugging you close.

Together, the two of you make your way into the house and out of the snow. It falls gently in the quiet of the night, landing softly on your jacket and in your hair. You weren’t sure if there would be snow this year, but you’re happy to have a white Christmas.

Sam takes your coat once you’re inside, and you smile at the chivalrous gesture. He never fails to treat you like the queen he claims you are.

“That was quite the party,” Sam says as you plop down onto the plush couch in the living room. Instead of joining you, he kneels in front of the fireplace and makes a fire. Even though he’s wearing long sleeves, you can see his muscles moving in his back. Your fingers itch to feel them, to soothe any sore spots.

Sam must feel your eyes on him because he gives you a glance, one that tells you just how much he likes when you look at him like that. You wink, and he laughs, going back to his task of lighting the fire. 

When he’s done, Sam walks over to the couch and sits beside you, tugging you into his embrace. He’s warm, and the fire’s heat fills the room, creating a cozy atmosphere.

With the snow falling outside and the fire roaring, it really feels like Christmas. Sam’s festive sweater certainly helps, though you’d taunted him mercilessly about it before the party. You’ll never admit it to him, but he can pull off anything, even an ugly Christmas sweater.

“What’s on your mind, baby?” Sam asks, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. You snuggle closer to him and breathe in his perfect scent.

“I’m just happy I get to spend Christmas with you,” you reply. And it’s true; you are so happy about that. Time with Sam is never guaranteed, what with his job and all, so any time you get with him is treasured. 

Sam shifts you in his arms, so you’re curled up on his lap, and he looks down at you with those big beautiful puppy dog eyes. “I’m happy too.” He leans down, and kisses you gently, making sure you know just how happy he is, just how cared for you are.

Sam’s passion and kindness practically ooze from his pores, but it’s even clearer just how good of a man he is when he’s kissing you, when he’s making you feel oh so loved. 

He plays you like a fiddle, letting his hands roam over your body, feeling you beneath his calloused fingers. You melt into his touch, fully at mercy to his ministrations. It’s so easy to get lost in him, in his smell, in the way he makes you feel. 

Sam’s hands find your legs, and he adjusts you so that your legs are wrapped around his torso. He stands, easily lifting you with him in the movement. He walks over to the rug in front of the fireplace and gently lowers you both to the ground.

Seated on top of Sam, you can feel his erection pressing against your center. You gently grind against him, your hips moving as if of their own volition. Sam groans beneath you, fingers making their way into your hair, tugging it lightly. 

He pulls away for a moment, eyes transfixed on your lips, now swollen from his passionate kisses. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispers. The fire illuminates his skin with a beautiful warmth while simultaneously casting shadows across his face that highlight his strong features. 

“Sam,” you say quietly, drawing his eyes up to yours.

“Fuck, baby, you can’t say my name like that,” he groans, shifting his hips to grind against you again. Your hands grip his shoulders as pleasure shoots through you. He holds you close as he settles your back against the carpet, his body crowding yours.

“We’re gonna crush the presents,” you giggle, your head bumping one of the wrapped gifts beneath the tree.

“You’re the only present I want,” Sam says, sitting up. “You gonna let me unwrap you?” He asks, fingers already playing with the button of your pants. You nod, and in an instant, he’s tugging your clothes off of you.

The heat of the fire is nothing compared to the heat of Sam’s eyes on your skin. He looks at you as if you were sent to Earth just for him, as if you’re the only thing in the universe for him.

Sam strips himself of his own clothes, putting on a show for your hungry eyes. You devour every inch of him, his soft skin, his perfect physique. 

You watch as Sam presses kisses to your breasts and down your abdomen, gently nipping at your skin, causing you to gasp lightly. Every time you make a sound, his eyes flick up to yours. There’s a mischievous look there, one that you know will only lead to good things.

Sam’s gorgeous mouth is just about to dip down to where you want him when he stops, letting his breath fan over your clit. Your hips cant toward his lips, silently begging for him to keep going.

“So needy, baby,” he mutters under his breath as he watches you squirm. 

“Please, Sam,” you beg, voice on the verge of being a whine.

“Please what, baby?” he teases, sucking a mark into your inner thigh. “Tell me what you need.”

“Fuck, Sam, I need you so bad,” you moan, trying not to close your legs around his head. “I need you to eat me out.”

Sam smiles up at you when you finally get the words out. “How could I ever say no to you?” he muses before dropping his head and finally giving you the contact you’ve been craving.

He feasts on you, ravages you with vigor. Your hands grip the carpet beneath you, chest heaving with breathy moans. 

Sam works you up to your orgasm so quickly that it practically blinds you. Pleasure rips through you as electricity shoots down your spine. You come on a loud moan that only urges Sam on further. 

“You’re so fuckin’ sweet,” he whispers into your pussy, pressing a kiss to your sensitive clit before licking his way up your body.

When Sam’s face is back in line with yours, you lift your chin to kiss him, tasting yourself on his lips. 

“So naughty, Sam. What would Santa say?” Sam sits up, wrapping your legs around his waist. You let him, practically a rag-doll under his touch. He lines his cock up with your pussy and drags it up and down, bumping your clit.

Sam presses inside of you excruciatingly slowly, making you feel every beautiful inch of his fantastic cock.

“Santa doesn’t need to know about this, baby.” And with that, he’s thrusting inside of you at a pace that makes you see stars. All you can do is hold on, taking everything he gives you.

Sam’s hands find your tits, groping you in an almost pornographic way, but it just fuels the fire in your belly. Everything Sam does just turns you on more; there’s nothing this man could do that you wouldn’t find sexy or a turn-on. He’s Mr. Perfect in every way.

“Oh God, Sam,” you moan as he brings you right back to the brink of orgasm. 

“Come on, Sugar, give it to me.” The strain in his voice alerts you that he’s close, and just knowing that sends you over the edge. You feel yourself clamp down on Sam’s cock as he picks up his pace, chasing his own orgasm.

Sam moans your name as he comes, dropping his forehead to yours as he comes down from the high. “I love you so much, baby,” he whispers, kissing you sweetly. How this man can be so dirty but such a gentleman all at the same time always amazes you.

“I love you too, Sammy,” you reply.

A moment later, Sam rolls off of you and makes his way to the bathroom, returning with a warm washcloth to clean you up with. When he’s done, he tugs a blanket off the couch and pulls you in close, holding you in his arms.

As the fire roars, you snuggle into Sam’s chest, loving the warmth he surrounds you with. Nothing has ever made as much sense as this right here.

please message me to be added to one of my taglists!

general tags: @peaches1958 @pono-pura-vida @emi11ie @paulasocean @silverfire475 @lovingchoices14

#jane’s writing #Naughty List #sam wilson au #sam wilson fanfic #sam wilson fluff #sam Wilson x reader #captain America x reader #sam wilsonfic #marvel fic #sam Wilson fanfiction #captain america #sam wilson captain America #sam wilson marvel #sam Wilson x you #fem!reader #marvel fanfiction #sam wilson x yn #captain america fanfiction #captain america au #sam wilson #tfatws sam #tfatws fic #tfatws marvel #holiday fic #holiday au #christmas fic #christmas au

[notafunkiller]

best daddy ever

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

Pairing: thunderbolts!Bucky Barnes x female reader

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

Word Count: 1K

Bucky Barnes masterlist

A/N: I really hope you’ll enjoy it!

Please, do not repost or translate without my permission!

“You know that’s not funny, right?”

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

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

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

“Are you okay, honey?”

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

“I’m okay, I’m sorry for screaming.”

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

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

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

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

“So you don’t think she’s cute?”

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

“Yeah, James, don’t you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I can make crepes if you-”

“Doll, please.”

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

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

“Goodbye, Cap.”

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

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

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

“Best. Daddy. Ever?”

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

“That’s mine.”

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

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

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

“No, she’s not pregnant, idiot!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[literaryavenger]

Can I be him?

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

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Enhanced!Fem!Reader

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

Word Count: 4.8K

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

Masterlist

Being an Avenger is not easy.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Because of me.

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

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

Not that you ever do. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Bucky knew then he was in love.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Bucky did notice, though.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Of course it’s not me. 

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

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

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

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

But Bucky didn’t read that.

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

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

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

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

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

It’s silly to say, but you miss him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Or at least that’s what you think.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Right?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Because you’re going to wake up.

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

Everything is dying.

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

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

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

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

But it’s not enough. Nothing is enough.

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

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

That he could’ve lived with. 

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

Not that he has to.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m okay…” He reassures you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Could I be him?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Instead you lean in and kiss him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

It looks like he can be him after all.

#bucky barnes #avengers x reader #bucky barnes x you #sam wilson #steve rogers #clint barton #tony stark #peter parker #natasha romanoff #avengers x platonic!reader #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes oneshot #marvel fanfiction #thor odinson #loki laufeyson #bruce banner #wanda maximoff

[thesugarclubs-blog]

Take The Chance - Sam Wilson x OC

warnings: post-TFATWS Sam Wilson, strangers to lovers, first date vibes, pure fluff

word count: 8.8k

WP: https://www.wattpad.com/1305965217-take-the-chance-talia

authors note: every month for 2023 we've decided to give ourselves a challenge; this month being Sam Wilson. For many of us, this is our first time writing him, so please be kind! We hope you enjoy reading this as much as we enjoyed writing it! 💙

Masterlist

“We’re home!” Sarah called into the house, as AJ ran around her through the door and straight up the stairs. “Clean your room! Do not go bug your brother!” She called after him, closing the door. 

Sam laughed as he rounded the corner from the kitchen, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning on the archway. He had come back to stay with Sarah and the boys for a while on his downtime to help her out where he could. It was his favorite place to be aside from up in the sky. Being home, surrounded by his community and the ones he loved always reminded him what exactly it was that he was fighting for. 

“So, how much trouble is he in?” He quipped, smirking at his sister. 

Sarah shook her head and sighed, “Surprisingly none, his teacher said he’s doing great this year. Even read me one of his creative writing assignments, which sounded suspiciously like a story about Captain America” She laughed. 

Uncrossing his arms, Sam held his hands up in defense, “Whatever he told you, I didn’t help him write it - I just, you know, gave him some pointers! The rest was all him.” 

“Whatever you did earned him a B minus, so I guess I owe you a thank you,” Sarah rolled her eyes as she pushed past her brother. “I ran into Talia on our way out of the school…” 

“Don’t start this again, Sarah,” Sam warned. 

She spun around and crossed her arms over her chest, “And don’t you use your Captain America voice on me! I’m just saying, I’ve known her for years and I think you two would get along” 

Deep in his heart, Sam knew that his sister meant well, but after everything that had gone on with the flag smashers, he didn’t want to put someone else's life in danger just because they knew him. He wouldn’t risk it. 

Sam shook his head and sucked in a deep breath, “And I’m just saying, I’m good. I’m happy. Can we drop it now?” 

“You need a life outside of being Cap, Sam,” Sarah murmured softly as Sam wordlessly followed his sister back into the kitchen. They worked around each other, Sam prepping whatever Sarah passed him from the pantry ready for dinner as she made a grocery list, and he thought about how to respond.

“I have a life outside of that, here. With my family. And Bucky, when he’s up for being sociable.” 

Sarah side-eyed him, leaning against the counter with a look that screamed ‘you just said the wrong thing, big brother.’

“Spending your days fixin’ up my porch and playin’ catch with your nephews is all well and good, Sammy, but don’t you get lonely?” 

Sam sighed, trained his features not to give the truth away and instead turned to the fridge. 

“You want me to check what needs stocking up in here?”

“Deflection only works so long,” Sarah hummed. “Don’t you want to find love like mom and dad had?” 

“Sarah,” he leaned against the door of the fridge and dropped his gaze to the floor. Same conversation over and over, he’d rather be shot at than combat the emotional warfare Sarah waged on him. “I know you’re just trying to help and you know I want that, it’s just not the right time,” he turned to look at her, “you’re out of milk.” 

“Insufferable,” she groaned, scribbling more to her list. “You act more like dad every day.” 

“That’s not so bad. Qualifies me for one of those mid-afternoon snore naps he used to take in the living room,” Sam laughed.

Sarah let out one of the most ridiculous, almost condescending cackles that Sam had ever heard. It reminded him of their mother’s laugh and his sister emulated her almost perfectly when she chucked the keys to the truck at him with more sass than anyone in their family knew how to handle.

“The hell it does. Take your ass to the store or else nobody is eating tonight.” Sarah instructed, holding out the list she had written.

“So bossy, this is why you had no friends in school.” Sam joked, snatching the paper from her and grabbing the pen from where she dropped it on the counter to add milk to the list. 

“Add a girlfriend to that list as well.” Sarah shot back with a smile and they both laughed in a mocking manner toward each other in a way that only siblings could.

There was a distant crash from upstairs, followed by a series of grunts and thuds. The boys were definitely up to something. Sarah groaned, hanging her head down- but Sam could see a grin tugging at the corners of her mouth. “AJ! Cass! You aren’t Avengers!” 

The thuds stopped for a moment and were immediately followed by the pounding of footsteps. They echoed through the house and Sam couldn’t help but laugh. Memories of him and Sarah growing up in this house, doing the exact same thing, flooded his mind.

They heard the boys trip and tumble down the stairs, arguing over something to do with video games. Sam pocketed the grocery list and pen and snuck towards the stairs, staying out of view. Sarah laughed and shook her head. “I’m staying out of this,” Sam heard her mutter. 

As soon as he could see the top of AJ’s head, Sam lifted him up and swung him over his shoulder. “Now you’ve done it,” Sam said, purposely lowering his voice. He faked the sternest look he could as Cass roared with laughter.  “You’re making me use my Captain America voice!”

“Oh no! He got us!” AJ laughed hysterically, pretending to struggle in his uncle’s arms. Sam’s heart swelled as he continued to parade around the kitchen with AJ flung over his shoulder, a chorus of giggles and screams filling the room.

“Okay! Okay, boys, no roughhousing inside remember?” Sarah enunciated, including Sam in that. He rolled his eyes but set AJ down. “AJ, is your room clean?”

He wouldn’t look at his mom and Sam laughed. “Have fun with this, I’ll be back.”

“Where are you going?” Cass asked. “Can I come?”

Sam hummed, glancing down at his nephew. “Hmm, I don’t know.” 

“Please!!” Cass whined, “I’ll help get the groceries!” 

Sarah leaned against the archway and glanced up at Sam. “Take him. Maybe I’ll give AJ a chance to focus on his room.” She offered throwing her youngest a pointed look. 

Sam chuckled and nodded clapping his hand on Cass’ shoulder. “Alright, kiddo let’s go,” 

Cass’ smile widened along with his eyes, “Can we—“ 

“No Wings!” Both Sarah and Sam said in unison. 

“But it’s so much faster!” 

“And I’m not letting my child fly through the air like a bird,” Sarah shook her head and stepped towards Cass, her hands cupping his face, “not until you're fifty and gray and I’m long gone. Then you can be reckless with your Uncle.”

"Hey!" Sam quipped, trying to bite back a smirk. 

He knew it was true realistically, but his sister didn't have to throw him completely under the bus. After taking Cass to school one time that way because he was late, suddenly it had become the only way he wanted to travel. One of the perks of having a superhero for an uncle. 

Sarah just cocked her eyebrow at him and shook her head, as she spouted off a few other things they needed from the store. 

"Cass, you listen to Uncle Sam, okay?" She said when she was finished, leaning her elbows on the counter and looking between the two of them. 

"Yeah yeah!" He mocked, slumping toward the door dramatically. 

Sam laughed, and went to follow his nephew, "If you think of anything else, just call" 

Moving from behind the counter, Sarah placed her hand on Sam's chest, stopping him for a moment, "You wrote down girlfriend, right?" She poked, her facial expression turning serious for a moment, "Even Captain America needs someone to take care of him."

Sam didn’t give her the satisfaction of a real answer. Just sighed and waved his hand about half heartedly before flashing her a toothy grin as he ushered Cass out the door. 

“You think you’re gonna find a girlfriend at the grocery store?” Cass asked as they climbed into the pickup, a skeptical eyebrow raised that was all Sarah Wilson. 

“You can shut your pie hole too, or I won’t let you pick dessert,” Sam countered, firing the truck to life and turning the radio all the way up.

The grocery store wasn’t too busy for a Saturday and Sam was grateful the fewer people he had to shake hands with the better. 

Not that it bothered him, the folks of the small town were so proud of him and they made sure he knew it. 

“Get a cart,” Sam pointed to his right as the glass doors slid open. “No rusty wheel like last time,” he reminded him. 

Nothing worse than trying to keep a low profile when the shopping cart sounds like a dying cat. 

Cass darted off to find one with good wheels and Sam waited for him inside, staring at the flowers neatly bundled on display. He picked up a small bouquet mixed with pink and yellow flowers. 

“Who are those for?” Cass slid up beside him, riding the cart like a scooter. 

“Your mom,” he said setting them inside. 

“Did we do something wrong?” Cass raised an eyebrow. 

“No,” Sam patted him on the shoulder, “you should always bring your mom flowers. She deserves them more often.” 

“For what?” The kid laughed. 

“For putting up with the three of us all the time,” Sam shook his head.

“I don’t know about you but I’m fantastic.” Cass declared, his mother’s sass dripping from his mouth, and Sam couldn’t help but chuckle.

They strolled through the supermarket, going aisle by aisle starting in the produce section and saving the frozen goods and dairy for last. Cass stayed close, reading the list from behind Sam and running down the aisle to grab things he saw they needed, always being the helpful young man Sarah had raised him to be. It was times like these, the times when he was alone with his nephews that Sam felt just the slightest hints of heartache thinking about how much time he had missed with them and his sister in the five years he had been snapped out of existence.

Sure, it was just a food run but Sam wouldn’t have traded it for anything else. He was making up for lost time, trying his best to be the responsible male role model that they needed. Everything he did was for them and Sarah, of course, she always thought he was just trying to be a patriot and the perfect All-American man but it wasn’t a sense of honor or duty at all. Sam just wanted to make sure his nephews grew up in a world that valued the lives of people who looked like them, and that the world was safe for Sarah, AJ, and Cass.

He tried not to think like that too much though, always making sure that he checked himself and was grateful for the things he had in life. A great family and great friends and yeah, that did include the grumpy cyborg who once ripped a steering wheel from his hands. Sam laughed at the memory of Bucky as he grabbed a can of tomato sauce off the shelf, tossing it into his cart nonchalantly before looking up and not seeing Cass anywhere.

"Shit," he hissed, his heart rate spiking instantly. It wasn't a huge grocery store, but it was big enough for a kid to get lost in... or wander out the front door. "Hey, Cass! Where'd you go?!"

He tried not to panic as he pushed his cart down the aisle and got to the end, his head whipping right and then left. No sign of Cass. Until he heard what sounded like an impression of him. 

"He's all, 'Cass, you can't do that! Cass, put that down! I'm Captain America and I make the rules!'"

It was terrible. He was trying to deepen his voice, but it was cracking. Honestly, it was worse than Bucky's impressions of him, and that was saying a lot. But it was definitely Cass's voice coming from the next aisle. Sam sighed and headed down the next aisle, spotting Cass talking to a woman with red hair and a soft, gorgeous smile. Her nose scrunched up when she laughed and Sam's stomach flipped.

"Hey!" He called. "For one, Cass, that's a terrible impression. Two, you can't just wander off like that!"

The woman laughed, a gentle hand reaching out to touch Cass’ shoulder - Sam noticed the way her eyes crinkled as she smiled, small dimples adorning her cheeks. 

He felt something flutter in his stomach - Play it cool, Cap, he told himself. Probably because he skipped lunch today. Definitely not the beautiful woman standing in front of him. 

He stuck his hand out, a warm smile plastered to his face. “I’m Sam. Sorry if my nephew is bothering you.”

She took his hand softly but fully, not shying away from him. Before she could introduce herself, Cass was huffing. 

“She’s my teacher Uncle Sam, that’s Ms. Graham!”

Sam stared at his nephew for a moment, the name wracking through his brain. "Ms. Graham...as in.." 

"Cass' teacher..." She finished with a sly grin, "and Sarah's friend, Talia." 

His eyes went wide for a moment, another smile beaming across her face as the realization hit him. "Right! It's uh," He paused, realizing he was still holding her hand he glanced down at where they were linked, "you probably want this back..." 

She breathed a laugh as he let go of her. The sound struck something within him. "It's nice to finally meet you in person Sam. Cass talks a lot about his uncle Captain America" Talia whispered the last two words, with a wink.

“Whatever he’s told you, I swear it wasn’t my fault!” Sam protested with a grin, folding his arms across his chest.

He might have flexed, just a little.

“So Cass telling me he flew to school the other week had nothing to do with you?” Talia smirked.

He threw a quick, playful glare to the boy. Hearing him muffle a giggle behind his palm and trying to give his best innocent face while his uncle sweated out an answer.

"In my defense; I didn't want him to be late more than he already was and we did not cross any speed limits," Sam said with the best straight face he could muster, her lips widened in a breathtaking laugh, the corners of her eyes crinkling adorably and it only made his own smile grow at sight.

Talia's deep blue eyes flickered between Sam and Cass, as a sweet smile stayed on her plump pink lips, "Well, I guess getting him to school on time was top priority."

There was a strange fuzzy feeling deep in Sam's belly that he couldn't quite place. Maybe something he'd eaten that morning wasn't sitting right. But every time the girl in front of him flashed those eyes or her bright smile, it felt as if an eruption of fireworks was going off in his chest. 

"Always," Sam softly smiled and ruffled Cass' head, gently nudging him to the side.

Cass pulled a face but went quiet beside him and Talia met Sam’s gaze with fond eyes. 

“Well, I won’t keep you guys. Looks like you’ve got a long list there,” she said suddenly, hands already poised on her shopping cart.

Sam smiled, desperately trying to think of a way to keep the conversation going. There was usually a reason he didn’t listen to his sister but having now met Talia, he wasn’t going to let the opportunity pass. 

“We’re almost done, actually. Cass here just needs to choose a dessert but maybe we could—“ 

Before Sam could finish his sentence, Cass waved the shopping list in his face.

“Wait! There’s still one more thing on the list, Uncle Sam!” He interrupted, “riiiight at the bottom there. Maybe Miss Graham could help us find it?”

Sam narrowed his eyes at Cass, “I’m not above stuffing you in a garbage can,” he whisper warned. “I got friends in high places kid,” he reached for the grocery list. 

“What is it?” She asked, looking between the two. 

“Uncle Sam was complaining earlier that mom buys gross coffee,” Cass started in and Sam thought about pinching him to shut him up. 

“I do not complain,” Sam defended himself but Cass waved the grocery list in the air. A silent threat. Sam instantly regretted teaching them the art of warfare.

Sam looked from the list in Cass’s hand to Talia and back. He had a feeling what he had written on there. He reached over and snatched it out of his hand. 

“I put girlfriend on the list. Since mum said so too. Maybe you could ask Ms. Graham to help you out with that” Cass grinned.

Sam merely glared at the kid, heat rising in his face and through his ears. Talia’s eyes had gone wide and she let out the cutest laugh, covering her mouth quickly as if trying to take it back. 

“That’s not on the list.” Sam insisted, shaking his head at the woman.

“Oh, it’s not?” She questioned, cocking an eyebrow at him.

“Definitely not,” Sam repeated nervously, crumpling the list in his fist when Cass began protesting, trying the pry the paper from his uncle's hand to show his teacher that he was not a liar.

"Cass, stop."

"You stop!" Cass protested. "Gimme the list! I wrote it down!"

"Cass..." Sam warned.

"You're making me look bad in front of Ms. Graham, dude!" Cass yelped as Sam held the paper high above his head, his nephew desperately jumping to grab it. He bumped up against Sam in an effort to knock him over. Sam felt his face heating up with each passing second. This kid had no tact. He definitely got that from his mom.

"Hey!" Sam barked as Talia's shoulders shook with laughter, her face red, and one hand covering her mouth. "You don't call your uncle dude."

"Then ask Ms. Talia to be your girlfriend!" He grunted jumping to reach Sam's hand that was still too high for him to reach. 

Talia's brows knit together, her face still beet red and a grin to die for hiding behind her hand. Sam winced, glancing over at her as he stood firm against his nephew. 

I'm sorry. He mouthed to her before glaring at Cass, "Listen Kiddo, there's more than just asking someone that. You have to..." 

"Date," Talia interrupted earning a soft glance from Sam. 

"That's right, you have to date someone first," He finished, "it takes time, so why don't you go pick out the dessert for tonight?"

With a frustrated huff, Cass stopped his assault on his uncle and stomped off towards the dessert aisle. Sam shook his head with a wry smile and turned his full attention to Talia,

“He’s a bit…much, but I guess you already know that,” he said.

“It’s fine, honestly. He’s a cute kid,” Talia smiled back.

"Yeah, when he's not being a little shit." He embarrassingly turned away from her to watch the kid.

Sam kept an eye on Cass as he stood far from them doing his job of choosing dessert, the woman's warm presence next to him was a little distracting. Maybe even welcomed.

She didn't leave immediately which only served to power the butterflies taking residence in his belly.

"I'm really sorry about him," he turned his eyes back on her and she was already smiling up at him, "I hope we didn't bother you." 

He tried to subtly tuck the paper in his pocket but the crinkling noise it made had her letting out a soft chuckle.

"It's okay."

"Come on, Uncle Sam! Are you gonna ask her out or what?" Cass called down the aisle, as he waved a chocolate cake in the air. "Can't cross it off the list until you do" He snipped. 

Sam sucked in a deep breath and sucked his teeth, as he rubbed his hand against his forehead, willing himself not to kill his nephew in public. The idea bounced around in his head for a moment, as he watched Talia's eyes flicker to their shoes and back up again. Man, this girl was pretty. 

Clearing his throat, Sam swiped his tongue along his bottom lip, "Look, he's not going to stop bugging me if I let this pass by, so would you like to grab a coffee with me tomorrow?" He finally asked. 

She giggled once more, and nodded her head once, "I'd love to..." She softly smiled, looking up and meeting his dark eyes. "You know, to save your sanity," Talia commented, shooting him a wink.

“Did she say yes?!” Cass’ voice carried through the store so loudly that several people stopped what they were doing, curious and then disappointed when they realized they hadn’t actually just happened across a proposal in the middle of the dessert aisle. 

Sam wrangled Cass into a soft choke hold the moment he stopped beside them, “seriously, man. You gotta work on your inside voice.” 

“I’ll add that to Monday’s lesson plan,” Talia giggled, “what did you choose, Cass?” 

She gestured to the box in the boy’s hands and he held it up with a cheeky grin. 

“Key lime pie,” he replied, wiggling out of Sam’s hold. And then in a stage whisper, he leaned in and added, “it’s his favourite.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” she nodded. 

“So tomorrow?” Sam looked from Cass to Talia with his eyebrow raised. “I promise to leave motor-mouth at home.” 

“Hey!” Cass groaned. 

“You have homework I’m sure isn’t done,” Taila turned her gaze to his nephew. 

Sam’s breath hitched as the last of the afternoon sun peered through the front windows of the store and reflected through Talia’s icy blue eyes. 

“I think getting you a boyfriend should earn me an A!” Cass laughed as both Talia and Sam groaned no simultaneously.

“Well… I guess that’s everything then. We better get going, otherwise, my sister will be mad that we’re late for dinner” Sam said as he began to push the cart to the checkout. Talia followed close behind. 

As they were standing in line Sam turned around. 

“Uhhh… did you want to give me your number? Or I could give you mine? So we could … you know, plan for tomorrow?” He asked nervously pulling out his phone and almost dropping it. Talia giggled as she pulled out her phone.

“Fire away Captain.” She teased, waiting for him to recite his number to her and he did, almost forgetting it in the process.

She seemed to sense his nervousness, contemplating something as she smiled, lips pressed tightly together as her fingers typed something out. 

His phone dinged immediately, her number now locked securely in and he flashed her as confident a smile as he could muster, not bothering to glance at what she had sent him.

“I’ll uh… message you later then.” He huffed, trying to keep his heart from bursting out of his chest as he handed the cashier his card.

"Great," she replied as she loaded her stuff onto the conveyor belt while Sam paid and Cass made a big show of grabbing all of the bags at once. Talia laughed as Cass tried to hold them up over his head and nearly toppled over.

"You need to do some more push-ups," Sam teased as the cashier handed him his receipt. He turned to Talia and winked, some of that charm flooding back instinctually. 

"See you later, Sam," she laughed. "Bye, Cass!"

"Bye, Ms. Graham!" Cass called as they headed out of the store, the boy struggling with the bags as he walked.

"Cass, give me some of those," Sam chuckled as he took two of the four bags and Cass heaved a sigh of relief. They loaded them into the car and Cass sprinted for the driver's side. 

"I call shotgun!"

Sam chuckled.

"Not in a million years. How're you gonna drive with no keys?"

Cass rolled his eyes but reluctantly walked to the passenger side door and opened it as Sam got in. His phone buzzed, but he ignored it as he started up the car. 

"Are you gonna get that?" Cass teased. "It might be your girlfriend."

Sam grinned and shook his head.

"It's probably your uncle Buck. I bet he broke the TV again."

Cass laughed, the sound filling the car. "Hopefully the remote isn't stuck in the tv screen like last time. Mom was so mad at him." 

Sam chuckled, shaking his head. "You tell the cyborg once to boot up Netflix and its like he's trying to crack some sort of ancient code." 

"Which should be easy for him since he is ancient," Cass giggled leaning against the car door. 

"Careful, he's got super hearing, you don't know what happens if he hears you call him that," Sam teased as continued the drive home. Cass froze in the seat next to him, wide-eyed and looking terrified. "Just sayin'..." Sam laughed.

“Don’t tell him I said that Uncle Sam. Pleeease!” Cass begged dramatically, gripping his Uncle’s arm.

“How ‘bout you stop trying to set me up with your teacher and I won’t tell your Uncle Buck you called him ancient, hmmm?” Sam teased.

“Aww but…” Cass began but was interrupted.

“I see how it is,” Sam nodded, reaching for his phone. “I’m just gonna give him a quick call right now…”

"No! I'm sorry! I was just doing what mom told me!" Cass shouted, looking terrified. Sam howled and nudged his nephew's head. 

Bucky was always a great threat to use against the boys. As much as they loved him, and Bucky had fun with them, both boys still seemed to be a little bit scared of him and Sam loved using that to his advantage. The super soldier had been a great addition to their little family and had slowly become another fun uncle to the boys. 

Throughout the rest of the evening, a soft smile stayed plastered on Sam's face as thoughts of the redhead's icy blue eyes and sweet laughter echoed through his head.

Sam liked Sundays in Delacroix more than anything. When he was younger, it meant family trips to church and cookouts. 

Today, however, he found himself rummaging through the one duffle bag he packed looking for something appropriate to wear for a coffee date. 

Not that he was nervous, Sam liked to think of himself as a natural dater when he didn’t have his 11-year-old nephew as a wingman. But he wanted to look good for Talia like he had his shit together. 

When he finally found something, he jogged downstairs to the smell of pancakes and bacon — and a double take from Sarah as he appeared in the kitchen. 

“And who are you dressed up all nice for?”

Sam opened his mouth to come up with an excuse but Cass slid in to answer for him, “he’s going to meet Ms. Graham for coffee.” 

Cass pointed his finger to his mouth and pretended to gag. 

“Snitch,” Sam tossed a piece of bacon into his mouth, his hand short of being slapped by Sarah. 

“Talia?” Sarah leaned over, flipping the pancakes. “I couldn’t have predicted that,” she laughed under her breath. 

“I got cornered,” he shot a look at Cass. 

“Well you look handsome,” she patted his chest with the palm of her hand as she turned to set the towering plate of pancakes on the table.

Sam took a seat and grabbed a plate and took some pancakes. Despite being nervous about the coffee date he was excited to see Talia again. 

“So… where are you taking Talia?” Sarah asked handing Cass the orange juice.

"We're just going for coffee. Figured I'd do something simple."

"Oh, so I guess that means more of this for me," Sara replied as she grabbed his empty mug. Sam put his hand over hers and shook his head, laughing.

"Hey, whoa. Let's not get crazy, okay? Fill that up." Sarah arched an eyebrow and tilted her head to the side. He knew better than to piss off his sister, so he plastered on a big smile before adding, "Please, Sarah?"

She frowned at him as she poured him a cup and he sighed as he picked up his fork. Cass looked up at him.

"Are you scared of Talia?"

"Why're you asking?" Sam laughed as the question caught him off guard.

"You're sweating," Cass observed. His brother nodded beside him.

"Big time."

Sam's throat clenched a little. This job was lonely, and it was hard. Grueling. What if things went really well and they started seeing each other regularly? He'd be away a lot, on missions and assignments. Since he got the job, he'd been reluctant to branch out and start dating again. Sam just accepted that it was a part of his life that he wouldn't be able to fully embrace; that he wouldn't be able to be there for another person because he was trying to save the whole damn world all the time. He smiled at Cass despite the ache in his chest. Sarah stared at him from across the table, her eyes a little misty as she watched him. She always knew what he was thinking. They'd been in sync since they were kids.

"Just a little," Sam replied as he cleared his throat.

“You shouldn’t be,” Cass replied easily, having no clue what his uncle was thinking. “Ms. Graham is the coolest. She’s kinda tough sometimes but she almost always lets me line up first for recess because I finish my work first.”

Sam smiled, nudging his nephew lightly. “Thanks, kid, I needed that.”

With a deep breath, he glanced back over at Sarah. She smiled softly at him, the one she always did when he needed a little more reassurance and courage. 

“Just be you, don’t worry about five years from now, or even tomorrow Sam, just enjoy the day with her.” Sarah encouraged taking a sip of her coffee, “you can worry about the rest later.” 

Sam nodded his head. He could do that, focus just on her. And those eyes. And the freckles that speckled her cheeks like constellations.

The drive to the coffee shop wasn’t long but Sam’s mind whirled, filled with the voices of his nephews, who’d shouted advice at him even as he was walking out of the door.

”Just be yourself.”

”Make sure you smile.”

”Yeah, but a normal smile, not your weird smile.”

He managed to find a space close to the entrance, parked up and then sat in his car for a moment, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel.

"Ok, we can do this... It's just a date," He mumbled to himself, as he sucked in a shaky breath, catching the glimpse of Talia's fiery red hair glinting in the sunlight as she came to a stop outside the coffee shop and shot him that gorgeous smile of hers. 

Sam returned the smile, and hopped out of the truck, "Good timing," he commented, running his hand over the back of his neck. "You look... Wow, beautiful" He stammered as he came to stand in front of her. 

Talia chuckled, and grinned up at him, "Looking pretty good yourself there, Sam" 

The dark navy blue cardigan that hung around her shoulders made the blue in her eyes pop out even more, and Sam felt his breath catch in his throat as he looked at her. He cleared his throat, noticing that he'd been staring at her, and moved to open the coffee shop door, "Shall we?" he smirked.

“Such a gentleman,” Talia smiled, thanking him with a gentle touch to his arm as she passed by. 

Sam’s heart was pounding, rushing in his ears. He took a deep breath and followed her into the coffee shop, eyeing up a table in the corner where it would be quiet enough for them to actually talk.

“Did you wanna go take a seat over there and I’ll order us some drinks?” He asked, flashing her a smile. His usual smile because it’s damn charming, thank you very much. 

Talia beamed back at him, eyes bright and cheek dimpled adorably. 

“I’ll have a mocha, white chocolate… with vanilla, please.” She said bashfully, “major sweet tooth.”

Sam wasted no time ordering their drinks, and as he went to collect them the young girl behind the counter met him with a smile, “on the house.” She said sliding a chocolate croissant toward him. “She orders one every morning.” 

“Thank you,” he said picking up the plate as he juggled the coffees in his hands. 

Talia watched him with a sweet smile as he made his way carefully toward her.

She was so pretty, his hands were starting to sweat. Be cool, he told himself. He was usually so much better at this, but being snapped, taking up the mantle, and throwing himself into this job-- no, this life-- meant that he felt like a fish out of water a lot of the time. He flashed her a warm smile and tucked himself into the chair, handing her her coffee.

And then the awkward silence found them. She sipped at her drink and he did the same, not knowing what to say to her. Panic started to set in and he took a deep breath.

"So, what does Sam Wilson do on his days off? Aside from taking a broke teacher out for coffee? Thank you, by the way."

She winked at him and took another sip of her drink. She was charming, he had to admit that. It almost felt like she sensed how nervous he was. He chuckled, relief flooding his body. She didn't ask what Captain America did, she asked about Sam. He could have cried. He didn't, but he could have.

"The pleasure's all mine. And, uh, aside from Sunday breakfast with my sister and my nephews--"

"I believe you called them little shits."

He threw his head back and laughed. 

"Only sometimes. But I don't do much. Free time is a bit of a luxury I'm not often afforded. I'd say taking a pretty woman out for coffee has been a nice end to the week."

Talia looked up at him through her lashes, her chin tilted down and a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “Home run, slugger,” she teased. Sam could feel a cold sweat immediately rise to the surface of his palms- she was good at banter and her eyes were entrancing. He was in trouble. 

They continued to stare into each other’s eyes- Talia’s hand lightly traced the edge of her mug and Sam’s eyes were immediately drawn to the movement. He noticed how slender and delicate her hands were, adorned with a few rings. He found himself wondering what it would feel like to walk hand in hand with her- 

“So,” he cleared his throat and immediately wiped his palms on his thighs under the table. God forbid they hold hands later and he’s as clammy as a teenager. “What do you do on your days off?”

“I spend it with my family and friends. My kids get my week, and everyone else gets my weekend. And sometimes, like now, I get to spend it on myself,” Talia winked at Sam, a warm smile on her face, and he felt a stirring in his chest, his heart beating faster than usual.

The conversation lulled a little as they sipped at their drinks and Talia shared the croissant and secret smiles with him across the table. 

Sam couldn’t remember the last time he felt like this, all warm and fluttery just from eye contact. At least his nerves had settled, soothed by easy conversation and good coffee. It was nice to just be Sam Wilson for a little while, and that helped too. 

“How long are you in town for?” Talia asked as they finish up the pastry. And just like that, Sam was reminded that his time back home was temporary, always would be for as long as he was Captain America.

His heart squeezed a little as the panic spread. It had been a long time since he felt that pang of fear and sadness. Almost a twist of regret, as he stared across the table at her, knowing she expected an answer. 

Leaving Sarah and the boys had become natural. Sad, sure but something that had turned routine for the four of them. Talia was a new variable, one he hadn’t planned for but now sat stunned because the fear of leaving her crept up on him without warning. 

“I'm never sure,” he nodded, “sometimes it’s weeks, months but someone always calls.” 

“That must be difficult,” she reached across the table and linked her fingers to his, steadying the tremor in his palm. “Leaving them I mean,” she said.

“Leaving is easy, it’s coming home to overworked Sarah and confused Cass and AJ that my heart doesn’t agree with,” Sam admitted uncomfortably. “Always feels like I’m making excuses for saving the world.”

"You shouldn't have to," Talia said softly.

He chuckled. and smiled at her, their fingers still linked. 

He wanted to unload the weight in his chest. He wanted to tell her to run, that what she wanted to dive into was bad for her. He was bad for her. She'd be alone a lot, missing him. They'd have to get by through texts and phone calls-- and that's if service was available and decent. He'd come home battered and bruised, and she'd want to take care of him. He couldn't burden another person with that. 

Instead, he just whispered, "that's sweet of you to say."

"I meant it," she replied.

Talia kept her blue eyes focused on his. Sam could feel the familiar sting of tears and furiously blinked. He wasn’t ashamed to cry, but damn, he did not want to cry on their first date. It seemed too vulnerable- like he would push her away even if he didn’t verbally warn her about the mess that was being an Avenger. He started to tug his hand away to grab a napkin, but Talia’s fingers wrapped tighter around his.

“Hey,” she cooed, sitting up in her chair. “I can’t pretend to know what it’s like to be you, to have your job…” Talia continued looking at him, her eyes soft and filled with kindness. “But you’re here right now. And that means everything to Sarah and the boys.”

Sam felt his heart clench, a lump in his throat and he nodded, gently squeezing her slender fingers. He placed an elbow on the table, covering and rubbing his jaw with his free hand, trying to get himself back together. 

Talia let him take his time, then quietly asked, “Would you like to take a walk? I always find that fresh air helps everything.”

Sam felt his heart trip again and nearly stuttered as he replied, “That sounds like a great idea.”

The two of them drank the last drops of their coffees and headed back out into the street, Sam once more opening the door and allowing Talia out first, like the gentleman he was raised to be. He moved around her, grazing his hand on her lower back as he passed and made sure she was walking on the inside away from the road. He wasn't sure anymore if it was his southern upbringing or his newly-formed hero self, but there was always that ting of protection mode in the back of his mind. 

"Okay tell me, what got you into teaching?" He questioned, their hands brushing together, allowing him to link his pinky gently with hers. 

Talia took a deep breath of fresh air, and looked up to the sky for a moment, "My younger sister..." She spoke softly. "She's quite a bit younger than me, and I was always helping her with homework, teaching her how to ride a bike, you know stuff like that... I guess teaching for me was just the natural next step"

“You’re good at it,” Sam murmured softly and Talia glanced up at him with an adorably confused smile. 

“And how would you know that?” 

“I get to see the evidence of it in Cass. He speaks so highly of you, not to mention how much Sarah gushes over you. You’re shaping young minds, takes special people to do that.” 

Talia blushed and Sam tried to commit to memory the soft pink hue behind her freckles and the way her eyes creased at the corners as she grinned up at him. 

“Well thank you, I try my best. And I love those kids, they’ve all got something to bring to the table, y’know? Compassionate, smart…”

“Always running their mouth,” Sam laughed, “or is that just my nephew?”

She nudged him with her body as they walked down the street, “I wouldn’t be much of a teacher if I talked badly about my students,” she laughed. “But Cass is too clever for his own good.” 

“I won’t tell him if you don’t,” Sam encouraged. 

“Our little secret,” Talia cooed.

"Thanks, I don't need that kid's ego getting bigger." He smirked. "It's almost the size of mine."

Talia snorted with laughter and shook her head. They walked in silence for a little while and she bumped her shoulder against him. Sam couldn't stop thinking about how pretty she was, and how every time he looked over at her, he felt something pull at his chest. Something inside of him was trying to keep that door shut, but here she was, kicking it down over and over again.

Talia sighed and he glanced over to see her looking around as people strolled past them.

"Are you going to ask me what made me want to be Captain America?" He asked.

She smirked and shook her head.

"Nope," she replied. "I already know the answer to that."

He couldn't stop smiling as he raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, you do, do you?" His tone was teasing, but the look in her eyes told him that she was serious.

"Yup. You're a good man with a good heart, standing up for what's right." She turned to him. "Call me crazy, but I'm more interested in you, not the shield you pick up to save the world."

Boom. Talia’s words broke the hinges right off the damn door that was holding him back. 

Sam stopped walking, feet planted firmly on the pavement. He could feel confidence coursing through his veins. As Talia went to take another step forward, he lightly tugged their linked pinkies back, twirling her around. The giggle that escaped her lips set a fire in the very center of his chest.

His other hand quickly found her waist and she stepped directly in front of him, their shoes almost touching. It was like a dance move. She linked all her fingers through his hand and giggled again, taking another step forward and pulling her body closer to his. 

“Is this okay?” he asked, his voice steady. “I don’t mean to be this forward, you’re just so… I think you’re-” He couldn’t find the right word. Wonderful? Incredible? Impossibly amazing?

Talia smiled, looking up at him through her lashes. “Yeah, I think you are too,” she whispered. 

She tilted her head up towards him, her eyes fixed on his lips. Sam couldn’t believe his luck. He leaned down and brushed his lips against hers gently. She leaned into the kiss and Sam moved his hand from her waist to the small of her back. He pulled away, feeling like the wind had been knocked out of him.

Talia looked up into his eyes, a twinkle in them that Sam immediately wanted to see again and again. 

Sam cupped her face gently, thumbs stroking her cheekbones, leaning down again, pausing just before they touched. Talia closed the gap easily, already moving, and Sam smiled into the kiss before focusing on the feel of her lips against his, soft but not afraid.

Every nerve in Sam's body ignited and in that moment all he wanted to do was keep kissing her. The feeling of her lips, the way her fingers curled into the fabric of his sweater. For a moment, his fears and sadness disappeared with the world around them. All that there was, was the two of them. 

Sam pulled back and rested his forehead against hers, brushing the tips of their noses together, "If I don't stop now, I'm just going to keep kissing you..." He whispered, pulling a giggle from her plump kiss bitten lips. 

"And is that such a bad thing?" She teased, moving to look up at him and pressing her body into his. 

There was no way Sam would admit to Sarah that she was right, or thank Cass for pushing him into this. But this girl really was great for him. Both of them different kinds of heroes; for once he was on a date where someone was interested in him and not just being on a date with Captain America.

He brushed a small lock of red hair back behind her ear and stole another small kiss from her soft lips. 

“You up for a walk?” Sam asked his lips hovering above hers. 

“Lead the way,” she smiled. 

He moved back from her, turning toward the pier he started to walk. Not noticing that she had stopped to tie her shoe until her hand linked into the crook of her elbow. 

“On your left,” she whispered as she slid into place, resting her head on his shoulder. 

He looked down at her, heart pounding harder than it ever had before and for the first time in a long time he felt relaxed.

It was still warm, the sun lingering on them for a little while longer. As they got to the pier, she leaned up against him and Sam spotted a couple of benches that faced the water. He felt a lump in his throat, remembering his parents. Every single Saturday night, his dad took his mom out for a nice dinner, and then they walked along the pier and made sure to get there before sunset. They'd sit for hours, just talking. They had the kind of relationship that Sam always wanted.

"You okay?" Talia asked.

"Yeah," he managed to choke out. "Just, uh... my parents used to sit on that bench, watch the sunset together. My dad took her out here for their very first date. I always think about them when I come here. Makes me feel closer to them to be here."

Keeping their hands in a warm embrace, Talia snaked her other hand around his forearm. She traced over the fabric of his sweater and looked up at him. His heart almost burst at the sight of this gorgeous woman, wrapped around his arm. “Thank you for sharing that with me,” she whispered. “Let’s go sit for a bit.”

He nodded and they made their way to the closest bench, still walking closely together. He should have been tripping over his own feet but something about her kept him calm, steady. “This one okay?” she asked, breaking their half-embrace to plop down on a bench.

“That one’s perfect,” Sam said, smiling fondly. He sat down beside her, arm resting along the back of the bench, behind Talia. She leaned into him, slightly into his side, resting her hand on his knee, drumming a simple rhythm.

Taking in a deep breath, the two of the gazed out at the water in front of them. Sam took the moment to reflect on the other dates he'd had in the past few months. It dawned on him that none of them were actually interested in him. They hadn't even asked any real questions about himself, but Talia right off the bat just treated him as him. As Sam Wilson. His dark eyes turned and took in every piece of her. The small curls along her hairline, every freckle that adorned her cheeks, the way sunlight reflected in the sunbursts around her pupils. 

"It really is beautiful isn't it?" Talia sighed, snuggling into him. 

A soft smile crept back onto Sam's lips, unable to turn his eyes away from her, "Yeah, it really is" He whispered back. 

Talia looked back up at him, and breathed out a small laugh when she realized he was looking at her, "You're just a big softy aren't you?" She asked, placing a kiss on his jawline. 

Sam laughed, and squeezed her shoulder, "I have to admit something to you.." 

"Oh no, you're not the real Sam Wilson, are you?" She teased. 

"No," he laughed with her, "I know Cass was the reason you and I are out right now, but that's why I asked you out. Truth is, I actually wanted to, but I didn't know how. Cass just pushed me to get there."

“I’m glad he did,” she smiled rubbing her hands together. 

“Are you cold?” He asked, unwrapping himself from her. 

He turned slightly, taking her small hands between his and rubbing them as he brought his mouth closer and breathed warm air between them. She watched him carefully through her thick lashes as he warmed her hands. 

“Thank you,” she leaned against his hold. “I see why your dad brought your mom out here,” she nodded toward the horizon.

Sam glanced at the water before returning his gaze to the blue sea in her eyes, sparkling in the sun. 

“Yeah, I can see why too,” he whispered and placed a gentle kiss on her fingers. Talia’s cheeks flushed and she grinned, freeing one hand to stroke just above his ear, leaning in and kissing him. 

Sam felt her melt into the kiss when his hands went to the back of her neck, supporting her head as he gently traced her lower lip before pulling away.

Every little kiss they shared and small giggle that left her lips engrained itself in Sam's memory and suddenly it was all he thought about. Sam could have sat there for hours tracing every feature of her beautiful face and taking in every little thing that she had to say. All the nerves in his body were on fire when the realization hit that it had been a long time since he'd felt this way for anyone. Bringing back that thought of what was going to happen when his duty called him back away. It was going to be something they would have to deal with together if she was up for it. 

"As much as I really don't want this day to end..." Talia sucked in a deep breath and peppered his jawline with kisses. "I really do have grading to get done for tomorrow, and I am sure your nephews are sitting at the window waiting for you to come home," she teased. 

Sam groaned, and pulled her tightly into his side, "I know you're right..." he whispered, turning to press his lips gently to her forehead, "I didn't realize how late it'd gotten" He chuckled. 

The two of them stood and made their way back to where their cars were parked. Sam hooked an arm around Talia's waist and pulled her flush into his body. "So, can I take you out again?" He smirked down at her. 

"Of your own volition, or is this Cass speaking again?" She smirked, curling a finger into the collar of his sweater. 

Sam laughed, and dipped his head to trace his lips along her neck, "Oh this is definitely me asking..."

Talia hummed, and pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, "Then yes, I would absolutely love to see you again"

Bringing his face back up, and brushing their noses together, Sam smiled into her lips as his arms tightened around her. Finally, he let her go and the two of them said their goodbyes, with promises of another date. He watched her red hair swing over her shoulder as she walked away from him and rounded the corner to climb into her car. 

Sam leaned against the hood of his truck, and sucked in a deep breath, grinning up at the clouds. He was never going to hear the end of this, but there was no way he couldn't not thank Sarah and Cass for pushing him into this. Sure, there was going to be some job stuff to figure out when he no doubt got pulled away for a case, but for some reason the way his heart swelled and the happiness he was finally feeling made it all worth it.

#sam wilson #sam wilson au #sam wilson x oc #sam wilson oneshot #sam wilson one shot #sam wilson imagine #sam wilson fanfic #sam wilson fanfiction #samuel thomas wilson #captain america #captain america au #captain america x oc #captain america oneshot #captain america one shot #captain america fanfic #sam wilson fluff #captain america fluff #marvel imagine #marvel oneshot #marvel one shot #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #fluff #strangers to lovers #tfatws

[sjsmith56]

Two Brothers, Two Kingdoms - Chapter 9, Lord Buchanan

Summary: Buchanan and Thorn ride to the battlefield joining the fray immediately. Their arrival changes the balance of the war resulting in a showdown between Prince Thorn and Prince Loke.

Length: 2.4K

Characters: Lord Buchanan, Prince Thorn, Archer Barton, Commander Rhodes, King Steven, Prince Loke.

Warnings: graphic description of battle, including hand to hand combat resulting in death.

Author notes: Photo edit of Bucky Barnes (Lord Buchanan) by Instagram artist nixakimbo.

<<Chapter 8

🗡️ 🏹

As Prince Thorn and Lord Buchanan approached the battlefield they could hear the sounds of battle from some distance away. They could only see what was happening when they dismounted their horses and climbed upon a small hill to see the scene below them. The King had four companies of men, his own, Buchanan's, Falcon's and Stark's.

"Where are the others?" asked Buchanan. "There were a dozen Lords in attendance at Falcon's investiture. All were ordered to bring men to the battle."

They heard a whistling sound and saw balls of fire being thrown through the air by giant contraptions.

"Trebuchet," said Buchanan. "I've answered my own question. The flaming orbs have driven the other Lords back to where they cannot fight. I see them now on the far ridges. All they can do is watch as their King is stuck in the middle."

"M'Lord, I can send flaming arrows onto the trebuchets but it will take time for them to burn," said the Archer. "It would be better to kill the men manning them and cut their cords."

"Can you cut their cords with your arrows so that they lose their counterweight?" asked Prince Thorn. "That would render them useless."

"If I had all my archers concentrating their shots perhaps," said the Archer.

"Go to the other side and gather the archers from the other Lords," said Buchanan.

Archer Barton rode off to rally as many archers as he could. The Prince looked as best he could for his brother's army finally spying it on another hill abreast of the one they were on.

"Look at him," said Prince Thorn. "He lets others fight for him. I will take my men and attack him from the rear. Buck, you should rejoin your company and keep pressing against these outlander armies. Stay safe my friend."

The Prince saluted Buchanan and rallied his riders to follow him. Buchanan did the same with his small force and charged into the fray. Rhodes saw him coming and yelled to the men that their master had returned. A cheer went up and they fought ever harder against the outlanders, even making headway against them. With Buchanan at their lead they kept pressing into the strangely dressed army. Buchanan found himself near their leader and with a yell pulled his pistol and aimed it at the man's chest, pulled the trigger and watched the blood spray as he hit the artery. Their leader fell over still clutching his horse's reins until he lost consciousness and fell below his frightened horse's hoofs. He rose no more. Once their leader was down the outlander army lost heart and many left the battlefield, done with war. Buchanan took the brief respite to reload the pistol. Rhodes rode up beside him.

"The words worked M'Lord," he stated with a smile.

"Not immediately," said Buchanan. "A spell was laid on the castle that interfered with the incantation. Once we were outside it worked well enough. The Sorceress saved me once again. How goes the rest of the battle?"

Rhodes pulled out his pistol and took aim at a charging outlander who hadn't quit, knocking him back and off his horse. "We've been in stalemate," he said. "Especially when those other Lords pulled their armies off when the trebuchets started firing. The King was furious but they didn't heed him. There will be consequences for this. Lord Stark has been the only noble born Lord to stay true to the King."

"Thorn goes to attack Loke from the rear," said Buchanan. "I think we should press him from this side, make him wish he never undertook this madness. Let me speak to the King first. He may want us to join his force."

Buchanan rode off in search of his King, while Rhodes and the rest of the men continued to pursue stragglers as they ran away. He spied the King from a distance and hailed him. Pulling up alongside him he relayed the message from Prince Thorn about his plan to attack Loke from the rear and force him into the fighting. The King suggested Buchanan take his company and attack Loke from their side. Without Loke the Outlanders might withdraw. Buchanan also told him about Archer Barton's plan to destroy the trebuchets which cheered the King greatly.

"Those cowards call themselves noble born but only Stark has stayed true," he said. "They rode their men out of range of the trebuchets. Perhaps Barton can shame them into returning to the fray. I have a good mind to knight that Archer if he pulls this off."

"He would be worthy, your Majesty," said Buchanan. "I'm off to take on that little prick of a brother."

Saluting the King he rode back to his men and led the charge against Loke from the King's side of the battle. They started slowly then built up their speed until they were running at Loke's army at full speed. He heard yelling from Loke's men and understood that Prince Thorn had commenced his attack on his brother. Drawing his sword he began slashing at every man wearing Loke's colours. A sound like a great bell rang and he saw Thorn's hammer destroy a trebuchet then return to its master's hand. Without that trebuchet a section on the main battlefield was safe from the flaming bombs and two of the watching lords launched their men back into the battlefield. Turning his horse around Buchanan saw Loke gesture to a man beside him and recognized the evil sorcerer who had cursed him.

"Sorceress, if you hear me I see that demon sorcerer," he yelled. "Give me your strength to strike him down!"

Feeling a power growing within him he charged the man who didn't see him until he was upon him. He ran him through with his sword and the sorcerer turned to dust, along with his sword. Throwing down the hilt he drew his rapier and continued his assault on the others wearing the black and green. The scene was madness but the Sorceress whispered in his mind that the King's forces were gaining on their adversaries. Feeling buoyed by the news Buchanan raised his eyes to the skies to give thanks to God and was startled to discover it was almost sunset. He had been awake for over 24 hours but felt as energetic as when he slept a full night. Rhodes came upon him and suggested a regroup to attack Loke's men anew. He gave the word and Rhodes rode forward with the command. As his men regrouped he saw many of Loke's men were down. A cry went forth and he rode forward in time to see Prince Thorn tackle his brother off his horse onto the ground. Holding his men back they watched the two pull out their swords and face off against each other.

"Brother, you have lost," thundered Thorn. "Surrender now and I will spare your life."

"Never," replied the younger prince. "I am burdened with glorious purpose and you stand in my way."

"I have seen your glorious purpose," retorted Thorn. "Your men attack their own. You reject the rules of ruling and attack those who question you. I ask you again to surrender."

The young Loke looked on his brother with disdain and rushed at him. Thorn had no choice but to defend himself and he ran his brother through, catching him in his arms as Loke dropped to his knees in front of him. Despite all that his brother had done Thorn still had feelings for the younger brother who had often felt neglected, sometimes justifiably, by their father. Buchanan jumped off his horse to offer support to the two princes.

"Brother, why?" asked Thorn. "We would have ruled as equals."

"You know it wouldn't have worked," said the younger, going paler as his life ebbed away. "This was inevitable."

Loke gave one cough that brought up blood then stayed still and Buchanan realized he was dead. He turned to Rhodes and told him to spread the word that Loke was slain in battle. It took some time but Loke's men surrendered. As word spread through the battlefield the outlanders began abandoning the fight. Lord Falcon rode up on Magnus and clasped Buchanan's arm in gladness. With a whistle from his lips a messenger hawk appeared on his arm. The King directed a message be sent to the Queen about the war. All the lords assembled around the broken hearted Thorn who finally raised his eyes to them.

"I have killed my brother," he said gravely. "But the kingdom is secured with your help. I beg your indulgence to accompany me back to my castle for my coronation as King. The Bishop, is he still at your castle, Steven?"

The King looked around briefly before answering. "I have broken with the Church," he said. "The Bishop refused to recognize that I left the Queen to rule in my absence. When the Queen told those who wouldn't support her to leave he left. I won't allow him back. There are some priests who chose to stay and they will become the leaders of a new church for my kingdom."

"Your Queen is more than capable of ruling," said Thorn, with disgust. "I always thought that Bishop was more fool than anything. If you would send for one of these priests I will join your kingdom in following a new church. These are new times after all."

Prince Thorn directed his soldiers to escort his brother's body back to his castle for burial in the family plot. He also directed them to prepare the castle for his coronation and the arrival of many lords as guests. The King directed all who followed him to help in the disposition of the dead and injured. It was his intent that the battlefield be restored as much as possible to a more natural state. He also called for the Archer Barton to present himself at the King's tents as soon as possible.

"My archers tell me he made a difference," he said to Buchanan. "It is my intent to knight him, and elevate him from an archer and farmer. I would also like to offer his daughter a place in the Queen's Guard. She acquitted herself well in the battle and carried your banner with pride."

By the light of bonfires the dead were assembled in preparation for the last rites and burial. Those wearing the colours of the King and his lords would have their graves marked while those of Loke and the outlanders would be left anonymous. Archer Barton and his daughter, Lila, presented themselves to their king and in the presence of all the lords Barton was knighted. As the king lifted his sword Barton rose and received a handshake from the King, Buchanan, and Falcon.

"You have served the kingdom well, Archer...Sir Archer Barton," said the King. "From this date forward you will receive income from the crown for all of your service."

The King turned to the young woman. "Maiden Lila," he said. "You have served our kingdom well. I wish to extend an invitation to join the Queen's Guard."

"I am to be married soon, your Majesty," she said. "As much as I would like to I can't."

"Marriage is no impediment to being in the Queen's Guard," he said. "Talk it over with your parents and your betrothed. If he would delay the wedding long enough for you to complete your training I would be most pleased."

She curtsied and her father put his arm around her drawing her back. The King looked at all the assembled lords and began to speak.

"A new world beckons us on this night," he started. "We have helped our friend Prince Thorn reclaim his kingdom and will enter into a new relationship with him, one based on mutual respect and understanding. By now, you have heard I have broken with the church. There were times I felt the Bishop was interested more in keeping his rich status than helping others improve theirs. A new church will form but those of you who wish to continue to worship in the old ways are free to do so."

"I wasn't sure allowing women to fight was the right decision," said Lord Stark, "but the archers you brought, like that young maiden, held their ground as well as any man. I heard the Queen's guard defended your castle well against Loke's men that made it through. Your Majesty, if a new church brings in the changes that allows our kingdom to be strong and prosperous then I will support your new world, most heartily."

About half of the lords there who heard this declaration nodded their heads in agreement. The King told them to go their men, and keep those who could help in restoring the countryside while returning the others to their homes. The lords were then asked to proceed to Prince Thorn's coronation as king. All agreed.

"Falconer!" called the King.

Both Lord Falcon and the king's falconer stood before him. It amused the King to see Lord Falcon offer his services but he spoke to his own falconer.

"Send word to the Queen that she is requested, along with the wives of Lord Buchanan and Lord Falcon and any other in attendance at my castle, to attend the coronation of Prince Thorn. They are to bring the senior most priest with them to perform the service. Instruct them to bring clothes for all of us suitable to honour our ally."

The falconer left to compose the message and send it to the Queen. Servants appeared with chairs, a table, food and drinks for the King and his lords to take refreshment. Sam smiled and murmured a comment. Buck turned to him.

"Incredible, isn't it?" he said in a low voice. "We just had a desperate battle and are now having a lunch served on fine china with silverware."

"Are you used to it?" asked Falcon. "Does it seem normal to you?"

"No," he said in a low voice. "I still eat in the kitchen at home sometimes. In the King's presence I partake as he does but at home I live as a normal man."

"I think I will follow your lead then," said Falcon.

Both men sat with their king and peers enjoying fellowship with them until morning dawned. After that, the noblemen and their king retreated to their tents to sleep, await their ladies and prepare to attend the coronation of Prince Thorn as sole ruler of the Kingdom of Green Lands.

Chapter 10>>

Series Masterlist

Please like, comment or reblog if you like this chapter.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #buckybarnes original female character #james buchanan barnes au #bucky barnes au #medieval bucky #steve rogers au #sam wilson au #thor au #Loki au