I spent far too long on this extremely hashed-together situation but what can you do when it’s one in the morning and you suddenly feel The Need (my wrists might never recover from doing this whole damn thing on a trackpad mouse)
Lucky fucking loves the cowl too, which is the weirdest thing Bucky’s ever seen, but whatever. It’s less funny when he gets snapped by a paparazzi photographer while he’s out taking Lucky around the park; the shot makes it all the way to the front page of the New York Post, and both Sam and Steve clip it out and stick it on their fridges, because apparently they live to torment him.
“Come on,” he says. “Do you gotta?” It’s unmistakably him, his face drawn into the Winter Soldier glower underneath his pulled-up sweater hood and black wool coat, shitty jeans and old boots, the photo taken exactly as Lucky was taking a piss against a goddamn fucking tree, and the fucking Post has taken great glee in writing the headline WINTER SOLDIER BACK IN THE SUPERHERO BUSINESS??? underneath.
“This is the greatest thing that has ever happened to me,” Sam tells him, and the next time Bucky looks at his own kitchen fridge he notices that someone, probably Kate, has printed out an edited version now captioned WINTER SOLDIER BACK ON HIS BULLSHIT???
read the fic here: a couple rebel top gun pilots (flying with nowhere to be)