The MCU Don’t Deserve Sam Wilson. Never Have. Never Will.

thinking about retired dilf art who can finally eat what he wants and his tummy going soft, ughhh i wanna put him in my pocket and take care of him :(

Radical Relations by Daniel Winunwe Rivers

Hi jo sorry if this isn’t what you normally write and you can ignore it if you want. I would just love a sort of comfort fic of reader losing their virginity to art but she’s uncomfortable and wants to stop and he’s sweet about it

No pressure I love everything you put out ♡

don't apologise pookie this is sweet :) <3

warnings: 18+ sex (p in v), insecure/uncomfortable reader, loss of virginity, very quickly (+ poorly) written apologies x

This is decidedly not how you expected losing your virginity to go.

Art was a gentleman. Waiting patiently for months, never pressuring you into anything despite the fact he'd spent countless nights leaving your dorm blue-balled and in dire need of a cold shower. Even when you suggested taking that next step, he made you insist several times that it was really what you wanted.

No, he wasn't the problem.

It took fifteen minutes with his head between your thighs for you to cum. That part was great. It was what came next that made things awkward: Art perched above you, one hand entwined with our own while the other guided him into you. The stretch was overwhelming, enough to render you breathless for the next few seconds as he eased in slowly. Each thick, solid inch has your toes curling and your lungs desperately gathering air.

An affirmative nod of your head to confirm that you were okay (you weren't) and he was rocking into you, groaning about how tight and good you felt. Everyone always said it gets better. But it's been two minutes of him thrusting into you, jaw slack with pleasure and eyes screwed shut while he babbles praises senselessly about how well you're taking it, and things are decidedly not better.

You can't take it anymore. The discomfort of having another person so deep inside you, the stretch, the burning pain...

"Art, stop."

He doesn't hear you at first. You're quiet, drowned out by the sound of skin slapping against skin and his ragged sounds of pleasure.

"Art." Your free hand finds his shoulder. Fingers curling into the sweat-slick skin, face strained in displeasure. "Stop, please."

Now you've got his attention. His eyes snap onto yours again, hips slowing to a halt. "What?" He blinks lamely. Despite his initial obliviousness, at least he's stopped moving.

"I just... I can't," you explain weakly, choking on a hitched breath.

It's not the most eloquent reply ever, but what are you supposed to say? This is awful. It's nothing like I expected. I'm having a terrible time. It hurts, it's uncomfortable, it's—

You could say all of that, actually. You just don't want to hurt his feelings.

"Okay," he says, brows furrowing. "Are you, um... are you okay? I'm sorry, was I going too fast?"

His hand moves to push your hair gently out of your face. Sweet boy. You can't find it in yourself to be upset.

"No, you're fine," you reply, trying for a smile. It falls terribly flat.

"Are you—" A pause, hand squeezing yours as he braces himself up on his other one. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," you reply, embarrassed by the way his eyes are searching your face with such genuine concern. You wish you could just melt into the mattress and pretend this never happened. "Can you just... can you get off, please?"

"Oh!" He blinks, glancing down. "Right. Yeah, yeah. I'm sorry."

The process of him pulling out is far less agonising, and you breathe a sigh of relief, body relaxing beneath him. He's still watching you with that same worried look as he lays down next to you, fingers twitching by his sides uncertainly.

"Too much?" He asks tentatively. You nod sheepishly, eyes averted. "I'm so sorry, baby. I didn't—did I hurt you? Are you okay?"

It feels like the hundredth time he's posed the question, but he's panicking inwardly about your apparent state of discomfort as you shift restlessly, eyes fixated on some point over his shoulder. You feel embarrassed. Guilty. Like a failure.

What's the point in him dating you if you can't even handle sex?

You don't voice any of that out loud, but he can see it in your eyes; the way your bottom lip quivers slightly as the all of the emotions cross plainly across your face. Or how your eyes glisten with unshed tears.

"I'm sorry," you whisper, voice cracking.

"No, no, no. Why are you apologising?" He replies instantly. He lifts a hand, pausing before he makes contact. "Is this okay?" When you nod your head, his hand cups your cheek, thumb brushing tenderly over your skin.

"You have nothing to be sorry for, baby. It's okay."

Your head shakes insistently. "No, I should be able to do it. I mean, what's the point if I can't?"

His knuckles linger against your cheek, and then he laughs. Just a soft huff of amusement, but enough to have you knitting your brows at him.

"What's the point?" He repeats softly, eyes crinkling down at you. "It's just sex, babe."

"Sex is a very integral part of a relationship!" You argue, wiping feebly at your eyes.

"Maybe," Art says, shrugging noncommittally as he watches your aborted attempt sympathetically. "Doesn't mean we have to have sex right now. There's always room to try again in the future, right?"

You hate that he makes sense. It's hard to wallow in your own self-pity when he's looking at you so tenderly, still caressing your cheek. "Right," you mumble reluctantly. "And if the future is never?"

"We'll tackle that hurdle when we get there," he says, dipping his head to kiss the tip of your nose. "Stop stressing. Let's just put a movie on and relax, 'kay?"

You pout at him for a second longer before relenting. Your head falls back into the pillow with a sigh as he settles back beside you, an arm draped across your middle to reach for the remote. A few more sniffles can be heard as you settle down.

"Thank you."

It's quiet, but he hears it. He sends you a soft smile. "You don't need to thank me."

"Well, I am," you reply, shifting to rest your head against his shoulder. All you get in reply is a light chuckle.

A few moments pass as he flicks through the channels before you speak up again. "Can you maybe put your boxers back on? I don't want to see your dick."

He snorts, tilting his head to press a kiss into the top of your hair. "Yeah. Yeah, okay."

OMG I JUST CHECKED THE SNEAK PEEK AND A PETER BOT???? OH I'M EATING THIS UP THE SECOND I GET IT (on a seriosu note good luck with the acc issues i'd lose my mind)

pretending i’m not going insane maybe it’ll make them email me back faster

PETER BOT PETER BOT

art definitely peed a little when tashi told him she was pregnant

No, the captain America mantle should not be thrown around like a hot potato during Doomsday, are you stupid?

Only time Captain America should ever be named in the movie is if someone is trying to get Sam Wilson’s attention.

The only other acceptable names to address Sam include “Cap” “Captain Wilson”

I hear you suggest any bullshit like that again, I’m coming at you with a shovel.

a doordash ad just called me a good boy

listen i know i'm a lesbian nad all but i need to eat him. umnumnum. rghhghg. he's always either smiley or confused and i WANT HIMMMMM

His curls…. i’m fuckign gnawing at the bars of my enclosure PLEASE JUST ONE CHANCEHDJSJDJF

..I fear Thunderbolts bought out the most annoying John Walker fans..ever.

"He killed a terrorist! Hes better than Sam" you either didnt watch Falcon and the Winter soldier at ALL, or you're a weird, illiterate loser who just hates black characters. Like..people who think John is this cool character who did nothing wrong piss me the hell off.

He has an inferiority complex and he thinks he deserves the shield and a better title simply cuz he was a good SOLDIER. Like..that was his damn job. He didnt do it cuz he cared about helping and he doesnt deserve the fucking shield.

Also..the flag smasher he killed wasn't a terrorist, like..the whole point was they were being forgotten and shoved away cuz everyone who got snapped came back AND THEY HAD NO WHERE TO GO, then John, killed him even AFTER HE WAS ACTIVELY SURROUNDING. John was a giant fucking baby throughout the entire show and made Sam's life WAY harder cuz he couldn't deal with the fact he wasn't Captain America.

And then he goes up and he neglects his fucking son cuz hes reading articles about himself, and he screams at his wife??? And..this is your goat?? Really. You cant bash Sam for fucking existing and then claim John is this complex, interesting hero when he fucking isn't.

John was FUNNY in Thunderbolts and useful on the occasion. That doesnt make him the new Captain America, nor does it even make him good. Like..if you hate Sam and love John, Im just gonna assume you're racist cuz..aint no other explanation 🤨