Prompt Post #1

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FILL: Maybe With You (Sam/Sharon, because Sam/Steve and Sharon/Steve got sunk by Steve/Bucky)

[(Anonymous)]

She’d thought she had a chance with Steve.

Something has sparked between them in the weeks they’d been living as neighbors, and while she’d been sure to keep it strictly friendly – she was there on assignment, after all – there was no denying the flame that burned low in her belly whenever the handsome Captain had cast her one of those little sideways glances with piercing blue eyes that sparked with just a hint of desire.

She had hoped that they could start something after her assignment was over.

Then she’d met Sam.

Sam with his toned arms and broad chest and endearing little smirk…

And who Steve looked at with the same adoring glance that she’d thought was hers alone.

Steve had introduced them, and Sam had shook her hand, looking her up and down with the same evaluating quirk of his eyebrows that she was likely giving him. They both knew.

They both wanted Steve.

They’d kept it strictly professional between them. There were bigger things going on, and it was no time for petty arguments over what was still just a crush when HYDRA was making a move.

Sharon had planned on confronting the man at a better time, and asking just what his intentions were with Steve – figuring out what exactly the risk was, what her odds were.

But then Bucky had showed up.

Bucky had come back from the dead and Steve had stared after him with agonized yearning, and she and Sam had shared a glance, and they both knew.

The burning desire in Steve’s beautiful blue eyes, the longing, the lust there.

They both knew then that neither of them stood a chance.

After everything was over, and Bucky was gone again, they’d both offered to stay with Steve. They’d offered comfort and companionship, but Steve had declined, staring off into nothing with a pained expression, and Sharon had known then that she never stood a chance.

Steve had left then, to be alone with his demons, and Sharon had exchanged a long, agonized look with Sam. The heartbreak was there in his eyes, too.

Misery loved company, and so before she’d even fully thought through her words, she’d invited him back to her place for a drink.

Three drinks later, they are currently tangled in a heap on the couch, their hands all over each other as they work off the stress, the hurt.

Sharon arches up into Sam’s touch with a little growl, her fingernails raking down his spine just hard enough to leave marks through his thin green t-shirt. He responds by sinking a bite into her neck where it begins to curve into her shoulder, and she keens softly, writhing until he drags his lips up her throat and over her cheek, silencing her with a deep kiss.

There’s a tiny bit of aggression in their actions – they have not entirely stopped seeing one another as rivals just yet – but the desperate, unslaked desire that they both shared for the attractive Captain has been redirected onto each other in drunken desperation.

Sam works his fingers into the front of her pants, curling the digits up and inside of her as she gropes for the zipper on his jeans. The pressure of his fingers working her open tears a gasp from her throat, and her hands slip halfway through tugging his pants off his hips.

Sam chuckles against her neck, deep and rumbling, and it makes her shudder. His fingers leave her for a moment, and she only just manages to bite back a needy whine as he moves to work his jeans over his hips and down to the floor. He steps back to detangle his feet, and Sharon scrambles upright to meet him, capturing his lips in a sloppy kiss as his hands find her pants and struggle to unbutton those as well.

The alcohol is effecting her far more than it is effecting him, and Sharon grins like a fool as her thoughts swirl in her head, making her feel light and tipsy.

“Bed?” Sam pants against her collar, stripping her lower half with a sharp shove.

Sharon nods her head toward the little hallway, and Sam begins walking that way, leaving her to stagger backwards as he herds her in that direction. She gets her bearings once they enter her bedroom, and she takes the opportunity to kiss his lips and then bite them hard. Sam groans, his hands tightening on her waist, and then with a little shove they are moving toward the bed. Sharon lets Sam overbalance her onto the mattress, wrapping her legs around her waist and dragging him after her.

She smiles as he falls with his arms bracketing her head, his hips grinding into hers deliciously.

“Sam,” she pants, and the man grins down at her.

“You ready to leap right in, then?”

She nods, weaving her arms up around his neck, and he leans back, lifting her from the mattress for long enough to work the row of buttons on her blouse loose and slip her shirt off her arms. She grabs the back collar of his t-shirt as he lowers her back to the bed, hauling it up over his head. She casts the fabric aside carelessly as Sam gets to his feet, hooking his thumbs through the elastic of his underwear.

Sharon props herself up on an elbow, teeth worrying her bottom lip in anticipation as he gives her a long, appreciative look, eyes lingering on the white lace bra she’s got on. She spends a second wishing that she’d thought to put on the matching lace-trim bottom instead of the simple white cotton piece she’s currently got on, but Sam doesn’t look like he minds, and she’s too busy watching his fingers play with his own underwear to consider her choices for long.

Sam traces her gaze back to the rather obvious bulge at his crotch, and as he inches his briefs down over his hips with a sly grin, Sharon feels her eyes go wide.

She hates to stereotype, she really does, but she’d been hoping for some sizable equipment, and she’s not disappointed. Sam’s cock has got to be the largest one she’s ever seen.

He’s long and curved and cut, a patch of tight, dark curls at his hips framing the silky, dark skin of his shaft, and all she can do is stare appreciatively - she desperately wants him to make use of it.

The man smiles at her reaction, stepping between her legs and smoothing his cock flat across her stomach, from her hips up to nearly her ribcage. He chuckles softly, rubbing his member over her belly.

“Might just tear you apart, sweetheart,” he murmurs, slipping her panties off to cast aside, and Sharon’s lips part in a gasp as red-hot desire spears straight through her middle.

“Starting to think you’re all talk,” she goads breathlessly, and Sam is quick to rock back and line the tip of his member up against her opening.

“Just let me know if I’m moving too fast,” he replies, voice surprisingly gentle, and then he pushes forward before she can reply.

The stretch of him filling her leaves her open-mouthed and panting, her head thrown back against the pillow as it overwhelms her. She can vaguely feel his hands on her hips, pining her to the mattress and helping to keep her squirming body still as it wriggles in a limbo between trying to get away and trying to spear herself further onto his member.

It burns and aches but it feels so damn good and she’s been craving this for so long…

Sam’s tongue finds the hollow of her collarbone, tracing it slowly as he inches into her, and Sharon grabs two fistfuls of the sheets as the heat and push gets to be too much.

She feels full up, like she’s ready to burst, and she’s not sure if it’s because she’s been without relief for so long or because of his size that she feels that way as the pressure builds.

“Fuck-!” she pants, and Sam stops moving to glance up in concern.

“You okay?”

She nods, but Sam doesn’t immediately resume his movement.

“You sure?”

“I’m good. Are you in?” she gasps, sitting up a little to see him.

“About half way.”

Sharon lets herself fall back against the mattress, staring at the ceiling in shock. “Dear God...”

Sam’s replying laugh quirks her lips up.

“Want me to just work from here, or do you want all of it?”

“All of it.”

“You sure?” he asks again, leaning in to bite a few affectionate, open-mouthed kisses to her throat. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I want all of it,” she reassures him.

“Whatever you say, Carter.”

She lets out a little squeak as Sam resumes his slow press into her, his hips rocking slightly to ease the way.

In another minute she feels him bottom out, his hips flush with hers. A breath escapes her as a disbelieving little laugh, feeling like he’s pressing into her stomach from the inside.

Christ, he’s gigantic.

She can feel the pulse of her body around his member, her muscles stretched taut around his girth and sending shocks of pleasure trembling through her core whenever they clench.

Sam starts to slowly draw out, and Sharon lets out a little whine in complaint. Sam, however, slithers his hands up to cradle her face and kisses her, long and deep, his tongue teasing her lip until she opens her mouth for him.

He laps at her in long, lazy sweeping motions that have her rocking into his touch, and she’s so distracted by his tongue that she is taken completely by surprise when he begins to press back into her.

His movements this time are not slow, and Sharon’s cry is lost in his open mouth as he bottoms out in one smooth thrust, jarring her back against the pillows. Sam breaks away from her for just long enough to ask “you good?” and get her replying nod before he repeats the motion – dragging himself out and plunging back in.

It takes them a moment to start up a rhythm, but they manage it, Sharon’s hands white-knuckled as they grip the headboard to keep her from bouncing too much as Sam ravishes her. He picks up the pace, leaving her deliciously helpless to do anything but try to brace herself still as he pounds into her, each thrust feeling like it’s kneading her insides.

She’s wailing out his name by the time he’s at full speed, begging him though she doesn’t know what for as he slowly drowns her in wild lust and raw feeling.

“God…fuck, Sharon-“ Sam chokes out, his voice weak with need, and the little thrill that gives her is enough to push her over the edge, back arched up off the mattress as her body goes rigid, trembling. Her senses swamp to black, nothing in her head but the pulse of ecstasy as Sam thrusts into her in broken twitches for another few seconds before yanking out and desperately rubbing at his shaft.

She’s just coming down from her high as she feels his seed pool across her chest and stomach, searing hot against her sweat-chilled flesh. Her hormones are singing in her head, her pulse ringing loud in her ears as she gasps for breath like she’s run a mile and her head floats like she’s in the clouds.

For a long moment neither of them move, and Sharon lets her eyes close in pure, unadulterated bliss as the warmth from Sam’s body seeps down into hers while he holds her through the aftershocks. It’s not quite enough to drown out all of the heartache from knowing that she’s lost Steve, but the feeling pushes it deep enough so that she can ignore the cold little pain of it in the wake of Sam’s heat.

A few long moments later she is vaguely aware of Sam detangling himself from her and staggering to his feet, heading for the bathroom when she flops an arm in that general direction to point the way.

She can hear the water running and a cabinet opening, then the water stops, and the man returns a moment later with his briefs back on and something in his hands. Sharon blinks up at him sleepily as he leans over her once more, pausing to press a gentle kiss to her lips before turning his attention to her lower half.

Sam gently cleans her up with a warm, wet washcloth, making sure that he’s gotten all of his seed off of her stomach, and Sharon catches his wrist to drag him down for a slow, messy kiss before he can walk away. She forces herself to her feet, taking her offered undergarments from him as she makes her way to the bathroom to clean herself up for real, and Sam searches around the darkened room for his clothes.

Once they’ve both managed to wipe themselves down and claw their appearances back into relative order, Sharon slips back into bed and tosses the covers down on the opposite side, glancing hopefully up at Sam. He meets her gaze in surprise, stopping halfway through pulling his shirt on.

“You sure?” he asks gently, and she nods.

Being alone doesn’t sound like something she wants to do right now.

The man hesitates for another long second before he strips down to his briefs once again, carefully shimmying in alongside her and turning to curl her body into his chest.

“G’night, Sharon,” he murmurs, tucking her close so he can rest his chin on her head.

“Good night, Sam,” she whispers in reply, letting her eyes close over.

Sleep comes quickly to both of them, the warmth of Sam’s chest and the comfort of his arms around her making her feel safe in a way that she hasn’t since she was little, and Sharon smiles as she drifts off in his embrace.

That night, lying in his arms, she dreams of flying.

Re: FILL: Maybe With You (Sam/Sharon, because Sam/Steve and Sharon/Steve got sunk by Steve/Bucky)

[(Anonymous)]

Well, hello new ship!

This was beautiful and very hot, thanks for sharing!