#sambucky fanfiction

[mojiitoos]

Bucky : “I feel like we're starting to lose the ''b'' in our «bromance», bro.”

*Sam, pausing from kissing Bucky's neck* : “Hmph?”

[sambuckylibrary]

TFATWS Anniversary Event 2024

The @sambuckylibrary will be holding a The Falcon and the Winter Soldier Anniversary Event! The event will start on March 18th and run until April 28th. During that time, we will be reblogging and sharing the work you guys create here on our blog.

This event is not just for the creators, but for the commenters. You can post fanfiction, art, moodboards, edits, podfics, fic list recs, comments, etc. It’ll be a low-stakes event. No need to sign up. Just remember to tag @sambuckylibary in your post for each fill, and we will be tracking #tfatwsanniversary2024 for reblogs.

If you are posting on AO3, please add it toTFATWS Anniversary Event 2024 Collection.

Each week will have a different theme with prompts from Monday to Friday. Each prompt will also come with a badge you may use for it when you post. The weekly themes and their prompts will be:

For the text version of the information above as well as the FAQ and rules, check the information under “keep reading”.

WEEK 1 (March 18 - 24): THE WINTER SOLDIER TO PRE-INFINITY WAR

MONDAY: “I don’t think he’s the kind you save.”

TUESDAY: Sam Searches for Bucky

WEDNESDAY: “Can you move your seat up?”

THURSDAY: Team Up at the Airport

FRIDAY: On the Run

WEEK 2 (March 25 - 31) : INFINITY WAR TO PRE-TFATWS

MONDAY: Laying Low

TUESDAY: Reunite in Wakanda

WEDNESDAY: Soul Stone

THURSDAY: Victory Party

FRIDAY: 6 Months of Ghosting

WEEK 3 (April 1 - 7): The Falcon and the Winter Soldier

MONDAY: Couple's Therapy

TUESDAY: “Let me just walk you through a hypothetical.”

WEDNESDAY: Madripoor

THURSDAY: “You’re just gonna set me up like that, huh?”

FRIDAY: The Cookout

WEEK 4 (April 8 - 14): Post-TFATWS

MONDAY: Meanwhile, on the Boat...

TUESDAY: Divorce Arc

WEDNESDAY: Skrulls

THURSDAY: Better Thunderbolts Ideas

FRIDAY: Better Captain America 4 Ideas

WEEK 5 (April 15 - 21): AU Week

MONDAY: No Powers AU

TUESDAY: Period Piece

WEDNESDAY: Sci-fi/Fantasy AU

THURSDAY: Based on a Movie

FRIDAY: Ghost/Zombie AU

WEEK 6 (April 22 - 28): Sambucky Week

MONDAY: Didn’t Know They were Dating/Friends with Benefits

TUESDAY: Redwing

WEDNESDAY: Hurt/Comfort

THURSDAY: Separate, Long Vacations

FRIDAY: Dealer's Choice

FAQ

What is this?

It’s a SamBucky event.

Is there any pressure?

No pressure at all.

Can I fill more than one prompt with one piece of art/one fic?

Yes! You can fill one prompt with one piece of art or fic. You can try to fill all five prompts that week at once with one piece of art or fic. You can do any number in between.

Are there any prizes for making anything for this event?

Just the satisfaction that you made something cool.

Is it just SamBucky?

Yes please, just SamBucky. There can be side ships, but the main ship should be SamBucky.

How long will this event run?

It will run from March 18th and run until April 28th.

I heard there are badges I can use for each fill?

There are! You can find the badges here.

RULES AND GUIDELINES

What are the guidelines for the bingo?

I will be borrowing some of this from the MYSU Valentine’s Day Bingo 2022 Guidelines, since they were fantastic.

For Everyone:

1. Remember to @sambuckylibrary in the post as well as #tfatwsanniversary2024.

2. Please also tag the prompt you’re filling (for instance, if the square is “Redwing”, use “#redwing” as one of your tags when posting about it on Tumblr).

3. If you’re uploading to AO3, please:

a ) Say somewhere which prompt you’re filling.

b ) Add it to TFATWS Anniversary Event 2024 (TFATWS_Anniversary_Event_2024).

For Artists:

1. Create at least one piece of new art that can’t have been posted anywhere else before this.

2. All visual art forms are welcome:

a ) Gifsets, at least 3 gifs.

b ) Aesthetic boards or moodboards, at least 4 images each.

c ) Drawing/painting, that is not a sketch.

d) Fan video.

e) Graphics edit.

For Authors:

1. At least 500 words.

2. Posted on Tumblr or AO3.

3. Can be part of a series, but should work as a standalone.

For Podficcers:

1. The podfic should at least be 5 minutes long.

2. It should be posted on either Tumblr or AO3.

3. The podfic can be of a fic made for the event, a fic not made for the event while still adhering to the prompt, or a notfic.

For Fic Rec Lists:

1. You must have at least five fics or podfics on the rec list.

2. Make sure to give brief descriptions of the fics or podfics as well as their rating and wordcount.

For Commenters:

1. Any amount of comment counts, from a heart emoji (“❤️”) to an essay.

2. We would rather this be about what makes you happy and joyful about reading than any scathing critiques.

Things to be mindful of when creating:

For Sam

Avoid framing Sam only as a caretaker or emotional support for Bucky. Be mindful of Sam acting angry or aggressive in an out-of-character way and falling into the angry/sassy Black man trope (check out the MCU source material to help with character traits).

Avoid decentering Sam as a main character and refrain from focusing entirely on Bucky.

In art: avoid whitewashing Sam’s skin and research drawing Black characters.

General disclaimer: Race affects every aspect of his life, including interacting with police/government and the white structures of the world when it comes to performing his duties as Cap and simply being a Black man that lives in the U.S.

For Bucky

Avoid phrasing “flesh/normal/human hand” to refer to the contrast between his prosthetic arm and his right arm. The phrasing is ableist. You can simply refer to his prosthesis when relevant, otherwise use “right/left arm/hand”.

For more information, please check out this document suggested by @ninesdb on how to write Bucky as an amputee. @ninesdb is also open to questions if you have any queries not answered by the google doc.

Specific Tags:

Avoid tags in AO3 like “Sam Wilson is a Gift”, “Sam Wilson is a Saint”, and “Bucky Needs a Hug”.

Have fun and we look forward to your TFATWS Anniversary fics!

- The Mods

[siancore]

SamBucky | M | 2.8K | AO3

Synopsis: It was a bad idea. Sam knew as much. His mission directive was clear: Travel back in time, go to the Stark Expo, and retrieve the stolen Wakandan artefact as a promise of goodwill and a way to make amends with a valued ally. He had finished the first half of his mission and secured the artefact, but he had not activated the Temporal Shift Device to return him to his own time. Curiosity had gotten the better of Sam. Curiosity and a yearning deep inside. He knew that there was a chance that he would see this other Bucky. He knew that if he set the Device to pick-up Bucky’s corporeal frequency, he would find him in the sea of people. The fact of the matter was, Sam missed Bucky. He missed his Bucky.

Content: Thunderbolts Era SamBucky; Possibly Unrequited Love; Vintage Queer Slang; Impulsive Sam Wilson; Charming Bucky Barnes; Angst & Feels; Mission Fic.

There was a certain buzz of excitement in the air. The Stark Expo was a hit. So much to see and do. Bucky was sure he would be thinking about some of the things he had seen that night for a long time to come. If he had much more time left. It was his last evening stateside. He would be shipping out in the morning with countless other young men to face a growing threat that he did not really understand. To face a world that was bigger than he could have ever imagined. So, Bucky did what most young men were doing that night: He was out to make some memories. Even if his best friend had other ideas, Bucky was going to enjoy what might be his last night in the city that he loved.

And boy did he love New York City. It was a bustling hive of many faces and flavors. He had heard that Europe had different sensibilities for young men like him, but his home would always be his home. He was going to miss the way the tall buildings were like an embrace, proffering protections from the outside world. Holding him close and steady. Making sure he melted into the tapestry of the cityscape. Bucky had always stood out from a crowd. Good looks that masked a melancholic glint behind his cool blue eyes. But sometimes he just didn’t want to be seen; to be perceived. He wanted to make his memories and take his pleasures away from judgemental eyes that could never understand.

Bucky lit a cigarette and waited for his and Steve’s dates to return from the lady’s public rest room. They had polished off one too many Coca-Colas that evening. Full of giggles, the sweet soda, and excitement for the night. Bucky would take them dancing and then make sure they got home safely. It was how most of his dates went with young ladies. Laughter and sweetness and sweat as they danced the night away. Bodies moving together to the blare of big band orchestras under dim lights in smoke-filled dance halls.

He took a pull from his cigarette and glanced around the immediate area. The night had just begun for some people, while others were heading on home after the excitement of the Expo waned. The hurried crowds slowly dispersed and that was when Bucky saw him, a good-looking Black man standing over under a streetlamp. He looked as if he was out of place and did not belong. And not in the way that many bigoted people thought. Not in the way the owners of the piers excluded certain dockworkers. He just looked like he was not from that place and time. As if he was in one of those fantastic tales in those rags Bucky bought every month. As if he had been placed there by some unseen hand of some ancient deity for Bucky and Bucky alone to see. And he was looking at Bucky as if he had seen a ghost. Bucky exhaled his smoke, kept his eyes locked on the stranger, and then stepped in his direction.

“Hello,” said Bucky with a dip of his head. “Can I ask you somethin’?”

“I don’t know,” the man replied. “Can you?”

Bucky let out a little amused laugh and said, “What’s your name?”

“Sam.”

“Sam,” he replied with a lilt to his voice. “I’m Bucky, and I guess that’s settled, then.”

Sam nodded his head before tilting it to the side and asking, “What’s settled?”

“We ain’t strangers anymore,” Bucky said with a smile.

“Yeah, I guess not,” said Sam with a small grin of his own.

“Friends?”

“We’ll see,” Sam offered sincerely. 

They each remained quiet a beat as they took in the other’s appearance. Sam was dressed in the fashion of the day as per the Device’s settings. Bucky was still in his service uniform.

“So, Sam. What brings you out in the city tonight?”

“You’re full o’ questions, uh?”

Bucky took another drag from his cigarette and then tossed it with his fingers before saying, “Sure am. So, what’re you doin’ tonight?”

“I’m on a mission,” said Sam, not divulging much else.

“A mission, eh?” asked Bucky, as he inched closer to Sam. “Is it a secret?”

“Yeah, I suppose it is,” Sam replied with the hint of a smile on his lips. “I would ask you the same question, but your uniform is sorta a dead giveaway.”

Bucky smiled and ran his hand over the lapel of his service jacket and said, “Yeah, me and a bunch o’ other guys thought it might be a good idea to dress the same and get on an airplane tomorrow, to go fight a bunch o’ other guys. May not be the smartest idea I’ve ever had, but then again no one’s ever called me smart.”

“Yeah, I’m sure that’s not the case,” Sam replied. “You seem plenty smart.”

Bucky licked his lips and let his gaze wander up and down Sam’s body; Sam noticed.

“Really?” asked Bucky. “How you figure that?”

“Well, you were smart enough to come talk to me,” said Sam with a shrug.

Bucky let out a laugh that was earnest and true, causing Sam’s smile to widen. The other man’s bright beam made Bucky’s head feel light.

“Backing out on my plans for the evening to come talk to a stranger mightn’t be the smartest idea I’ve ever had.”

“Hey, we’re not strangers, remember?” said Sam with a playful yet earth-shaking smile.

“Right,” said Bucky as he took out another cigarette. “Fast friends.”

He lit it and held it out for Sam. He shook his head a politely declined.

“So, what plans are you backing out on tonight?”

“Tonight,” Bucky drawled before leaning toward Sam a little. “Tonight, I was meant to meet my best friend and take some pretty girls dancing. But, on account of me not bein’ so smart, that plan’s changed.”

“Oh,” said Sam, leaning over into Bucky’s space. “I mean, it doesn’t have to. You’ve still got time to go dancing.”

“Nah.”

“Why?”

“Well, to put it plainly, I know I said I’m not smart, but my best friend’s an idiot, and truthfully, those girls ain’t half as pretty as you.”

…..

It was a bad idea. Sam knew as much. His mission directive was clear: Travel back in time, go to the Stark Expo, and retrieve the stolen Wakandan artefact as a promise of goodwill and a way to make amends with a valued ally. He had finished the first half of his mission and secured the artefact, but he had not activated the Temporal Shift Device to return him to his own time. Curiosity had gotten the better of Sam. Curiosity and a yearning deep inside.

He knew that there was a chance that he would see this other Bucky. He knew that if he set the Device to pick-up Bucky’s corporeal frequency, he would find him in the sea of people. The fact of the matter was, Sam missed Bucky. He missed his Bucky. Not seeing the man whom he had grown close with for nearly six months was making Sam not think straight. He would never put a mission in jeopardy, of course, but he just wanted a glimpse of the man. You could not blame Sam for being curious.

The Device showed a reading and Sam knew he was close. All Sam needed to do was stand a little ways away, out of sight and out of the way of nosy bystanders, and cast his gaze in that direction. That was when he saw him, standing there with a cigarette in his hand and the hint of a smile on his lips. Same eyes; same staring problem. Their gazes locked and Bucky made a move in his direction; Sam knew he was fucked.

…..

The train ride seemed to go by too quickly. Bucky sat close to Sam, their legs brushing against one another, under the cover of masses of other commuters leaving the Expo. They spoke in hushed tones, Bucky ever charming, drawing laughter from Sam as he told stories about himself and his stubborn friend, Stevie. It made Sam’s chest feel tight at times. He asked questions about Sam’s family. It gave him the chance to talk about his mother and father, something Sam hadn’t done in so long with anyone other than Sarah. It was nice, riding the train with that Bucky. When they reached Brooklyn Heights, they walked the streets slowly, trying to draw out the moment.

They reached the piers at what was now known as Brooklyn Bridge Park. There was something kind of romantic about seeing the cityscape like that. The old buildings standing against the starry night sky. The steady flow of the East River. Bucky sitting so close that their shoulders were touching. A comfortable silence passed between them as Sam stared out over the water.

“I love this view,” said Sam as he glanced sideways and saw that Bucky was staring at him.

“Me, too,” said Bucky, never taking his eyes off of Sam. “So goddamn pretty.”

Bucky removed his hat and ran his fingers through his hair. He gave Sam a cocksure smile and said, “You’re an interesting man, Sam.”

Sam scoffed and said, “I doubt that.”

Bucky laughed and nudged Sam with his shoulder.

“Saw a fella make a car float at that Expo and none of that was half as interesting as you.”

“You’re a real smooth talker. You got a slick mouth on you.”

He laughed. Genuine and amused and lovely. Sam liked the sound of Bucky’s laugh. His Bucky’s laugh. This Bucky’s laugh was similar, but so different. Like the sound of a fresh breeze sweeping through the cityscape. Absent was the heaviness that lived around the edges. It was light just like the sparkle behind his focused eyes.

“You don’t even now the half of it, Buttercup,” said Bucky, swaying further into Sam’s orbit.

“Buttercup?” asked Sam, biting back a smile.

“Don’t mean nothin’ by it,” Bucky insisted. “I don’t claim to be much of an evening botanist.”

There was a mirth that danced behind the cool blue of his irises.

“You’re just bright and shiny. Seemed to fit.”

…

“What do you wanna do after the war?” asked Sam as they sat side-by-side and looked out across the water as the night sky gave way to early morning. He felt kind of sick at knowing the young man’s fate. But this Bucky, the smiling, bright-eyed Bucky, he did not know what awaited him; he deserved to be able to think of a future that was nice.

“Don’t know,” said Bucky. “Figure we might get a parade in the streets. Folks smiling and happy to see us. Me? I’d be thankful for somethin’ like this. A quiet moment with good company.”

Sam smiled at Bucky, all warmth and light.

“All I’ve done was fight since I was a snot-nosed kid in short pants. These,” said Bucky as he raised his fists slightly and knocked them together. “These gotta be good for somethin’ other than fighting. So maybe that’s what I want after the war. Stop going from one fight to the next. Use my hands for something gentle.”

There was something inside of Sam that made him want to warn Bucky. To tell him to flee and not join that fight. That the fight will last longer for him than any other. But he did not. He would not risk the timeline, even though he wanted to. He wanted to say, “To hell with it all.” But he knew that he could not. At least he could give this Bucky a memory that would not be doused in blood.

The bright-eyed young man sitting next to him, awash in the warm light of the early morning, stared into his eyes.

“I hope you get everything you ever dreamed of, Buck,” he said in earnest.

Bucky let his head dip, huffed out a little laugh, and then looked up through his lashes.

“I dreamed of times like this,” Bucky admitted, as he brushed his finger against Sam’s nearby hand. “Dreamed of finding a guy like you and sharin’ a moment like this. Are you a dream, Samuel?”

Sam felt his heart flutter.

“How do you know my name is short for Samuel and not Samson?” he asked, hooking his finger with Bucky’s.

“Because you’re an answered prayer,” Bucky explained. “That’s what Samuel means – that’s what you feel like to me.”

“Wow,” said Sam, barely over a whisper. “Thank you.”

“Nah, thank you. Thank you for makin’ my last night here one I’ll never forget.”

“It’s my pleasure,” Sam replied as Bucky entwined their fingers together.

A small beat of silence passed between the pair as they sat on the pier holding hands in the kind shroud of the early morning.

“You think I’d get in too much trouble if I missed the air ferry later today?” asked Bucky as he ran his thumb over Sam’s. He was joking, but there was a hint of something behind his tone.

“Probably,” said Sam, giving his hand a squeeze. “Better not risk it.”

“You make me wanna take risks.”

“I’m not worth it,” said Sam, sounding more self-deprecating than he had meant to.

“Oh, now that ain’t true at all,” said Bucky as he reached over and tilted Sam’s chin up.

They sat there staring into one another’s eyes. Not moving; not saying a word. Soon, Bucky’s gaze shifted from Sam’s eyes to his lips.

“Please, Sam,” Bucky whispered. “You gotta let me kiss you.”

All of the jest and teasing from before had gone from his tone, and all that remained was something earnest and almost lamenting. As if time was running out for them, and it was. Bucky was nearly ready to ship out; Sam was nearly ready to return home to his own time.

“Please. Can I kiss you?”

“Yeah,” Sam replied as he gave Bucky a soft smile.

Bucky smiled back at him, bright and sunny, as he cupped Sam’s face and then leaned in to press a soft kiss to Sam’s lips. He sought to deepen it, and Sam allowed it, as passion filled them. Sam did not know how long they had spent exploring one another’s mouths, breathing one another’s air, but he pulled away slightly and rested his brow against Bucky’s. He did not realize tears had escaped his eyes. Bucky drew back and wiped the tears away with the pad of his thumb.

“Don’t be sad, Sweetheart,” said Bucky, cupping Sam’s face once more. “I know this feels like – like we’ve run outta time. But there’re a bunch of boys over there right now fightin’ for the future.”

“The future,” Sam replied, soft and plaintive.

“I saw all kinds of things last night that they’re saying are right around the corner,” said Bucky, still holding Sam’s hand. “Things to look forward in the future. Marvels and wonders and things I never thought possible. It’s pretty swell this future that they’re promising. This world of tomorrow.”

“It’s worth the fight,” said Sam as he smiled sadly at Bucky.

“That’s what they’re sayin’,” Bucky replied. “But I look around now and wonder is it a future worth fightin’ for if at some point someone like me can’t spend all of my tomorrows with someone like you.”

“Bucky.”

He smiled then, soft and sure and awash in early daylight.

“You’re gonna haunt my dreams, Buttercup,” said Bucky as he ran his fingers against Sam’s face. “And I can’t wait to close my eyes and see you.”

xXx

The artefact was delivered; Sam’s mission was completed. He returned to his small hometown to be with his family. Sarah cooked for him and his nephews reminded him of why he was doing that important work. Why he got up every day and risked his life. To make the future better for them.

Sam was exhausted, physically and emotionally. He was regretting not returning when he was scheduled to. For remaining in the past. For spending time with that Bucky. It made the longing in his heart stronger. Made his chest feel tighter. He got to share something with someone who was so close to the man he wanted now. To his Bucky. But his Bucky did not want him like that sweet, charming, hopeful Bucky did. His Bucky was so steeped in pain and anguish that it would not be fair on him for Sam to even admit his feelings. His Bucky had left him. His Bucky was never truly his; would never, ever be his. Sam sighed and made his way down to the docks. The steady water always calmed him. He closed his eyes and remembered the pier. Remembered that Bucky’s hand in his; his lips on his. He hoped that it brought some comfort to that Bucky in the midst of war. Hoped his Bucky was safe out there, wherever he might be. Hoped that someday his Bucky might return to Delacroix and sit by the water’s edge with Sam.

[jemgirl86]

Saw the original graphic for The Game of Love that I’d been playing around with on Canva and decided to share it too, because why not lol 🤷🏾‍♀️

Anywho, it’s the perfect excuse to shamelessly share the link to my 18K words Rockstar/NBA Player AU again 😭 So, again, why not lol…

Summary:

“You know what tonight is, right?” Steve asked, cutting him off.

Bucky didn’t quite grunt by way of replying, but it was close.

Of course he knew what was happening that night. He didn’t live under a rock. The whole country knew, and there wasn’t a New York native alive who wasn’t at least a little excited about it. Even people who had been calling the Knicks bums for the past twenty or so years were rooting for them. For the first time since nineteen ninety-nine, the Knicks had made it to the NBA Finals. Even more unbelievable, people who weren’t even from New York thought they might actually win it.

And it was all thanks to Sam Wilson.

Or: Ten years is a long time - maybe too long, but maybe not…

[cobrafantasies]

Brewing up a Date

SamBucky | Rated G | 2,862 words | Complete | AO3

Written for @marveltrumpshate 2023 winner: @SnapDragonAndDungeons

Thank you for bidding on my offer and also for being my beta reader and sharing your time!

Summary: Bucky meets the town's newest spell shop owner, Sam, and wants to work his magic.

Read on AO3

[bisamwilson]

Sam stands at his bathroom sink, splashing water on his face to rid his eyes of leftover slumber, and looks up into the mirror.

Every day, he finds himself older than he ever remembers getting.

Flecks of gray sprinkle his goatee, a leftover look reminiscent of his golden years, and a small roll of his tummy peeks out over the elastic of his briefs.

He stretches out his neck and his back, the cracking noises louder every day, and rubs at the spot beneath his shoulder that always seems just a little sore these days. It’s not enough to stop him from going on his morning run—even if it is more of a fast walk/jog these days on account of his poor knees—but it is enough to make him a little more careful when he stretches.

Strong hands take over the kneading at his shoulder, and Sam relaxes into his husband’s touch, groaning when he thumbs over a problem spot just right. His eyes close for just a moment, appreciating the fact that Bucky knows his body just as well as he does, before he opens them and studies Bucky’s face in the mirror.

Bucky’ll never show his true age, sure, but the weight of the years has run down his face all the same, if at a slower pace than it would anyone else’s. There’s a bit of silver in his short beard to match with Sam’s own, bits of hair near his ears that gleam against the rest.

He wonders how many of the smile lines on Bucky’s face are because of him.

finish on ao3 (M, 1k, fluff, complete)

(written for @winterfalconevents bingo square K4: not until i say so)

[questionableratatouille00]

aaaaaa if you saw the first version of this post no you didn’t

jolly sailor bold: mermaid reader x pirate/mercenary Bucky Barnes. Filled with lore, including Mount Wundagore, The Scarlet Witch, Asgardians, and more. Reader gets like locked out of mermaid kingdom and goes to Wanda for help but Wanda wants the Darkhold so she turns reader human. Reader meets Bucky and chaos ensues. Very cutesy

you’ve caught a stray: not an au but certainly not canon compliant. Reader moves away from DC post SHIELD crash, to a farm in West Virginia owned by a family member who doesn’t live there. Anyway, their only neighbor is Bucky, who’s not quite James Barnes and not quite the Asset either . They fall in love over a series of chaotic events and it’s pretty cool.

Pain Brings Order: How HYDRA Fell: Sambucky series featuring Yelena, Clint, and some more people who had ties with HYDRA/the Red Room. A documentary about HYDRA is being made, the first of its kind to feature people who were directly associated with them. I don’t know but I have the idea and uh yeah.

Whole Worlds Ending (Honey, It Already Did.): Another Bucky Barnes x Reader. There’s been a disturbance in the Multiverse and Dr. Strange (along with America Chavez) are assembling a team to find out what’s happening. Enemies to lovers.

[barneswilsonrogers]

🎃 My Sambucky/Samsteve Library - Zombie Edition

🧟‍♀️ Best and Last of All Things by @anactorya 🧟‍♀️ Escape to Wakanda by @thatmexisaurusrex 🧟‍♀️ You Have Suffered Enough (It's Time That You Won) by @rocketnebulas 🧟‍♀️ Love, Zombies, And Barry White by @zevlore 🧟‍♀️ You, Zombie by cm 🧟‍♀️

[firstelevens]

and 22 for sambucky, perhaps?? 🍯

22. don't say yes

It is, technically speaking, Sam’s fault that he ends up where he does. Usually, there’s a little more nuance, but this time around, it’s completely on him.

His mother had been fond of saying that eavesdroppers were bound to hear things they didn’t like, and little Sam had only had to test this theory a few times before deciding that she was right. The lesson had worn off at some point, though, as high school and college came and went, and as keeping your ear to the ground made all the difference as a soldier and later as a superhero.

But Sam doesn’t mean to eavesdrop on Bucky. Not really, anyway. 

He pulls up to Bucky’s newly-purchased cottage and goes around back to drop off Sarah’s spare wheelbarrow. All afternoon at the docks yesterday, Bucky had been making noises about working on the garden at the new place, setting up a vegetable patch and hauling around some of the bricks left behind by the last owners to make up a little retaining wall.

When Sam had asked just how much experience Bucky had with growing vegetables, he’d mentioned that his Ma had kept a victory garden during the war, and then gone quiet until the boys burst in and demanded his attention. Bucky had gone back home not long after, and Sam had figured that the wheelbarrow and the extra gardening tools he’d pulled from the shed might be some kind of peace offering.

He sets the trowels and gardening gloves on the back porch and leaves the wheelbarrow nearby. It’s more habit than anything else that has him stopping to examine the boards and the porch railing, checking for rot or cracks. Sam doesn’t even realize that Bucky’s bedroom window is open, not until his voice carries out of it and into the yard.

“I promise I’ll be back soon,” he’s saying. “It’s just a quick errand.”

Sam furrows his eyebrows. He’d maybe expected Bucky to be on the phone, but it sounds like he’s talking to someone who’s there with him.

“The hardware store is close,” says Bucky, and the warmth in his voice is unmistakeable, “and the nursery’s not that far, either. I’ll be an hour, tops.”

He tries not to, but Sam can’t help but strain his hearing, trying to catch the reply from whoever is up there with Bucky. He can’t make out any words, but that doesn’t make him feel better. It’s 8 AM on a Saturday; whoever it is could easily just be tired.

It’s far too easy a leap from that particular conclusion to just why someone might be at Bucky’s house in the morning and too tired to really speak. Sam feels queasy all of a sudden.

Bucky had turned down an invitation to have dinner with them last night, and he’d left the docks in the late afternoon instead of hanging out like he usually did. Sam had assumed that he was going back to work on the house while it was still light out, but maybe that wasn’t it. Maybe Bucky had gone into town, or to a bar somewhere. Maybe Bucky had brought someone home with him, and that someone had stayed the night.

Sam is just trying to convince himself that there’s a perfectly platonic, rational explanation to all this when he hears Bucky’s voice again.

“Baby,” Bucky says, somewhere between affectionate and chiding. “Sam’s gonna be here any second; you know I can’t just leave him hanging.”

That’s not how you talk to a one night stand, Sam realizes, with a sinking feeling. That’s how you talk to someone who’s been around for a little while, and who plans to stay that way.

Had he missed the signs somewhere? Had he misread all those conversations that he’d thought were moments with Bucky, even when they’d been on their own separate world-saving missions? All the text messages and the scraps of time they’d caught together in New York or DC or here in Delacroix?

Bucky shyly admitting that he’d put an offer in on a house in town had seemed like a confirmation of something, like establishing solid ground for them to take those first steps together. Now, though–now Sam can’t help but wonder if that solid ground isn’t his to tread, if Delacroix was the choice not because it’s Sam’s home but because it’s someone else’s.

“You’ve got to give me my shirt back, Sweets; I can’t go out without it,” comes Bucky’s voice again, and this time, Sam makes himself step back, intent on hustling back to the truck and booking it out of here before Bucky realizes he was there at all.

He’s already drawing up an excuse in his head, trying to strike the right balance of a reasonable last second cancelation and nothing that’ll worry Bucky too much, but the extra distraction proves to be the last thing he needs. Sam runs right into the wheelbarrow, which falls against the nearby stack of bricks with an extra-loud clang, reverberating outwards like a bell.

“Fuck,” Sam murmurs, and has just enough time to right the wheelbarrow before Bucky is calling out the window.

“Sam, is that you?” Sam doesn’t say yes at first, still trying to salvage his escape plan, and Bucky calls out again. “Sam? Are you there?”

It’s only latent self-preservation instincts that remind him it’s probably a bad idea to make the former Winter Soldier think that there’s someone skulking around his property uninvited, and he finally makes himself answer.

“Yeah,” Sam calls back. “It’s me, sorry.”

There’s no response for a moment, and then the door to the back porch opens. Bucky is smoothing down his t-shirt like he just pulled it on, and Sam’s stomach lurches just a little.

“Hey,” Bucky is saying, “sorry I’m late; I just got caught up with- wait, what’s that?”

It takes Sam a beat to realize where he’s pointing, distracted as he is by Bucky’s ruffled hair and the pillowmarks on his face. Even as part of him grapples with what he’s just learned, he can’t help but feel happy that Bucky seems to have slept through the night.

“It’s a wheelbarrow,” he finally manages to say, like it’s not the most obvious thing in the world. Sam clears his throat, but it does nothing to ease the sudden tightness he feels there. “Thought you might need one, for your garden and all. Plus, uh- we had some spare trowels and stuff at the house. No sense in buying new ones if you don’t need them.”

Bucky looks as surprised as he always does when he’s on the receiving end of a gesture like this, but he thanks Sam warmly. “If I supply coffee and snacks, d’you think Captain America might throw in his help along with the wheelbarrow?” he asks, grinning. 

Sam smiles in spite of himself. “Maybe, but it better be some fancy coffee.”

“I think I can make that happen,” says Bucky, nodding. “You about ready to head out? Is there anything we need to take with us to the hardware store?”

“About that,” says Sam, trying to keep his breathing even, “I was thinking maybe it would be better if we rescheduled? I, uh- I know weekends can be busy, and maybe there’s stuff that needs your attention, so we can-”

“Sam, this is the stuff that needs my attention,” Bucky says. His eyebrows furrow after a second, and realization crosses his face. “Oh, wait, do you have something you need to do? Is the motor still giving you guys trouble on the boat? Because we can just head over there instead; the hardware store can wait, but Sarah can’t miss that afternoon charter.”

It would make for a good excuse, but the boat is just fine, and if Sam said otherwise, Bucky would insist on coming along to help. “It’s not that,” Sam says. “Sarah’s all set for the charter. I just didn’t want to take you away from anything important, or pressing, or, I don’t know, more enjoyable than a trip to the hardware store and the nursery. You know Hank and Lottie are going to want ten minutes of gossip for every ten minutes of shopping.”

“I’m counting on it,” Bucky says, giving Sam a slightly odd look. “I want to hear what the deal is with that new couple who just bought the flower shop.”

Sam shrugs. “Just want you to remember that it might take a while, that’s all.”

Bucky waves a hand. “I have time,” he says. “Might even be able to squeeze in a trip to the coffee place so I can put a down payment on your help with the garden.”

That, weirdly, is the final straw for Sam. He may be quietly jealous of this unknown person who’s loath to let Bucky out of bed in the mornings, but they deserve some consideration, at least. If Sam’s partner was going to spend the day gallivanting around after promising to be home as soon as possible, he’d want to know.

Just as Sam opens his mouth to finally address the elephant in the room, Bucky is continuing on, as oblivious as ever. “Let me just grab my shoes,” he’s saying. “And then we can head out.”

He turns and opens the backdoor again, but just before Bucky can step inside, they’re met with the loudest, most plaintive meow that Sam has ever heard. It’s followed by a few more: short, sharp mews of complaint, very clearly addressed at the person deemed responsible.

For a second, Sam’s brain processes ‘there is a cat in Bucky’s house and it’s mad at him’ to mean that a stray cat got in through an open window and found that it couldn’t get out. Then he looks back at Bucky and finds him sitting in the doorway, now cradling a tiny white kitten in his left arm.

The cat is mewling loudly at him, with more force than such a small animal should have, and Bucky…Bucky is nodding along to the complaints, murmuring comforting nonsense back. 

“I know, I know, you told me not to go,” he says, gently petting the cat. “Sorry, baby. I should’ve taken you with me, huh?”

There’s one last meow in response, softer than the others, before the cat curls up in Bucky’s arms.

Sam, still astonished, glances from the upstairs bedroom window to Bucky and the cat and back again.

Sorry, baby, Bucky had said. You told me not to go.

“Wait, you were talking to your cat?” asks Sam.

Bucky frowns, looking confused. “That’s what this animal is called, yes. And I’m currently talking to her, so…yes to that, too?”

“No, I mean earlier,” says Sam, before he can stop himself. He feels his eyes go a little wide.

“Earlier when?”

“Uh, nothing. Never mind. Are you gonna introduce me to your cat, or what?”

But Bucky’s persistence is one of his best and most annoying qualities. “Earlier when, Sam?”

With the same consideration that he gives to a particularly risky throw of the shield, Sam makes himself answer. “Just when I got here. A few minutes ago, that’s all.”

“You heard me talking?”

“Yeah,” says Sam. “Your window was open and I was bringing the wheelbarrow around. I heard you saying you’d be home soon, and calling someone pet names, and I made an assumption. I guessed wrong, that’s all.”

Bucky arches an eyebrow. “So you were eavesdropping, then?”

“I was doing a favor for my friend and bringing him a wheelbarrow that’s almost as ancient as he is,” says Sam, his voice dry. “Not my fault you project like you’re on Broadway and aiming for the cheap seats.”

That gets a snort of amusement, at least. Sam steps onto the porch and takes a seat beside Bucky, holding out his hand for the cat to sniff.

“Sam, this is Alpine,” Bucky says. “Alpine, this is Sam.”

Alpine seems to deem Sam trustworthy enough, because she settles back down in Bucky’s arms and doesn’t tense when Sam runs a gentle finger along her back.

“How long have you had her?” asks Sam. “How’d I miss this cat hair on your extensively black wardrobe?”

“Two weeks,” says Bucky, “and I now own about a dozen lint rollers.”

“That’ll do it, I guess.” Sam laughs quietly. “You know the boys are going to want to meet her as soon as possible, right?”

“Sarah asked me to pick them up from school on Monday; I thought I might bring them by to see her then.”

Sam hums in acknowledgment and wonders if he’ll ever get used to the way Bucky has neatly folded himself into their lives. 

He doesn’t get a chance to ponder it for very long, though, because then he feels eyes on him, a vibranium shoulder pressed into his own.

He has about two seconds to brace himself before Bucky asks, “So if you heard me talking to Alpine and didn’t realize I was talking to a cat, who did you think I was talking to?”

It’s been a long time since Sam acted or felt like a teenager, and he’s not proud to say that he defaults to a classic 16 year old response: shrugs a shoulder and says, “I don’t know,” as nonchalantly as he can,

It does not work.

“Sam,” says Bucky. “Seriously, it’s Saturday morning. Who would be at my house at 8 AM on a Saturday?”

Sam shrugs again, but this time he makes himself answer, even if he can’t take his eyes off his lap. “Someone who fell asleep here, maybe.”

“Fell asleep here? What does that even-”

“Buck, I know the aw-shucks routine was a real hit in the forties, but you don’t need to go around pretending not to know what sex is now.” Sam means for it to sound light, but the words feel sharp as he says them.

“That’s not what I was trying to do,” says Bucky, and Sam might be imagining it, but there’s something careful in his voice now. “I just didn’t think of it.”

“Right,” says Sam, flat. “Of course not.”

Because only someone with a definitely-more-than-a-crush on their friend and superhero partner would hear three sentences through an open window and immediately assume that they had a romantic rival. Normal people with normal feelings about their friend and superhero partner wouldn’t be fazed.

Part of Sam is searching for an exit strategy again, trying to figure out the best way to wriggle out of this so he can contend with the embarrassment in peace for a while before things go back to normal. He would break out an excuse to get going, except that Bucky is still talking.

“I’m not saying it wouldn’t have come to mind before,” he’s saying, and Sam wants very badly for this conversation to end so he can be swallowed by the earth. “I just, um- I haven’t thought about entertaining people that way in a while, because there’s someone I’m interested in.”

It’s a medical miracle, Sam thinks, that he can feel like someone has punched him in the stomach and yet his curiosity still manages to seize control of his mouth and ask questions. “You sure you don’t have that backwards? It feels like the sort of thing that would be on your mind more, not less.”

He feels Bucky shrug beside him. “We’re taking it slow, I think.”

“Oh?” asks Sam, suddenly beset by chaste visions of Bucky sharing a milkshake with someone at the retro themed diner in Chalmette.

“Yeah,” says Bucky. “Not even any real dates or anything yet.”

Blessedly, the diner and the milkshake disappear. “No dates at all?” asks Sam, because apparently he likes pressing on bruises.

“No dates,” echoes Bucky. “But errands, sometimes.”

Sam furrows his eyebrows, finally turning to look at Bucky. “Errands?”

Bucky nods. “Yeah, errands. Like, grocery store runs, or gardening,” he says, and it seems like the corners of his mouth are turning up. “Or even trips down to the hardware store and the nursery.”

Sam blinks. “Wait, what?”

There’s clearly a grin on Bucky’s face now. “I mean, I’m assuming that the hardware store doesn’t count as a date, because if it were a real date, I’d be getting flowers instead of a wheelbarrow.”

There’s a rushing in Sam’s ears as he processes Bucky’s words. For a moment, he can’t seem to make his mouth work. When he finally does, his voice is embarrassingly creaky, like he hasn’t spoken in days. “Next time,” he croaks. “Next time, it’s flowers, I promise.”

“Okay,” Bucky says, his smile widening. “Next time, then.”

“Okay,” echoes Sam. “It’s a date.”

[wiccamoody]

lay me on the ground (and fly me in the sky)

pairing: bucky barnes/sam wilson

rating: e

word count: 1.8k

summary: Sam and Bucky end up training at the same time. Sparring practice ends up leading to something a little more.

a/n: for my lovely friend @runzu <3

~ao3 link~

[hopelessbluekiss]

Your girl finally posted something Marvel related to show her love for SamBucky. Please read and review. First posted it on Tumblr as a snippet before deciding to refine and post it on AO3. If you want more like this you know what to do.

[mojiitoos]

Sam : “Don't flirt with my sister.”

Bucky : “Okay.”

*5 minutes later*

*flirts with sam*

[sambuckylibrary]

TFATWS Anniversary Event 2024 Badges

Here are all the badges for TFATWS Anniversary Event 2024! For more information about the event, please check out the main post for the event.

WEEK 1 (March 18 - 24): THE WINTER SOLDIER TO PRE-INFINITY WAR

MONDAY: “I don’t think he’s the kind you save.”

TUESDAY: Sam Searches for Bucky

WEDNESDAY: “Can you move your seat up?”

THURSDAY: Team Up at the Airport

FRIDAY: On the Run

WEEK 2 (March 25 - 31) : INFINITY WAR TO PRE-TFATWS

MONDAY: Laying Low

TUESDAY: Reunite in Wakanda

WEDNESDAY: Soul Stone

THURSDAY: Victory Party

FRIDAY: 6 Months of Ghosting

WEEK 3 (April 1 - 7): The Falcon and the Winter Soldier

MONDAY: Couple's Therapy

TUESDAY: “Let me just walk you through a hypothetical.”

WEDNESDAY: Madripoor

THURSDAY: “You’re just gonna set me up like that, huh?”

FRIDAY: The Cookout

WEEK 4 (April 8 - 14): Post-TFATWS

MONDAY: Meanwhile, on the Boat...

TUESDAY: Divorce Arc

WEDNESDAY: Skrulls

THURSDAY: Better Thunderbolts Ideas

FRIDAY: Better Captain America 4 Ideas

WEEK 5 (April 15 - 21): AU Week

MONDAY: No Powers AU

TUESDAY: Period Piece

WEDNESDAY: Sci-fi/Fantasy AU

THURSDAY: Based on a Movie

FRIDAY: Ghost/Zombie AU

WEEK 6 (April 22 - 28): Sambucky Week

MONDAY: Didn’t Know They were Dating/Friends with Benefits

TUESDAY: Redwing

WEDNESDAY: Hurt/Comfort

THURSDAY: Separate, Long Vacations

FRIDAY: Dealer's Choice

[siancore]

“I don’t trust them,” said Sam, as he threw his hands up. “I don’t trust them at all.”

“I’m not askin’ you to trust them,” said Bucky, as he inched closer to Sam under the Louisiana sun. “I’m asking you to trust me.”

“I do, Bucky. More than anything. I just — this is dangerous, okay.”

“I know that,” said Bucky in reply. “I know how dangerous it can be, Sam. I also know it will be a lot more dangerous for a lot more people if I don’t go and work for the Thunderbolts.”

“That’s such a stupid fucking name,” said Sam, as he folded his arms over his chest and dipped his head; Bucky let out a little huff of a laugh.

“Sam, hey. Look at me,” said Bucky as he placed a hand to his partner’s upper arm and stroked it soothingly; Sam glanced up. “I gotta do this. It’s gotta be me. With my past, I’m the man for the job.”

“What about your future?” asked Sam, his eyes wet and red-rimmed. “What about our future?”

“I’m securing it, Sammy. If the intel is true, and this group is planning to attack Wakanda while the nation’s unstable, I can’t just sit back and let that happen. I have to do everything thing I can to stop them.”

“And if they find out you’re undercover? If they hurt you? What then?”

“Honey, sometimes hurt is part of the job.”

“I don’t want you to go,” said Sam as he fell into Bucky’s embrace. “But I know you have to. I just don’t want you to leave me.”

Bucky held Sam tightly and pressed a kiss to the top of his head.

“I don’t wanna leave you,” Bucky whispered. “But keeping the world safe means I’m keeping you and Sarah and the boys safe, too. There’s nothin’ I wouldn’t do to protect my family, even if I have to be away from you for a little while.”

Sam clung to Bucky with more fervor.

“Lord, why are you such a good guy?” asked Sam as he nuzzled his face against Bucky’s neck.

“You bring a lot of that goodness outta me, Sweetheart.”

“Doubtful,” Sam said softly. “It’s just who you are.”

Bucky rubbed circles against Sam’s back and kissed his head once more. They stayed that way holding one another in silence for a while longer before Bucky spoke again.

“Sam, I gotta get goin’.”

“I know,” Sam replied as he pulled away slightly to look into Bucky’s eyes.

Bucky stroked the side of Sam’s face and said, “How’d I get so lucky finding a gorgeous guy like you?”

“I think I technically found you that one time,” said Sam jokingly in order to lighten the mood.

“Yeah, only ‘cause I let you,” Bucky replied with a smile which Sam mirrored.

He let go of Sam and then reached for the collar of his shirt, retrieving his dog tags.

“Hold on to these for me?” he asked.

“Buck.”

“Just until I get back,” Bucky added.

“Okay,” said Sam quietly, as he let his head dip forward.

Bucky placed the tags over Sam’s head carefully, before cupping his chin and placing a kiss to Sam’s lips.

“Just ‘til I get back, Baby,” said Bucky, as he hugged Sam once more. “I promise I’ll be back.”

[jemgirl86]

The Love You Save (May Be Your Own)

SamBucky AU

Summary:

Did he read this wrong? They’d been dating for three years, saying “I love you” for two, and living together for one. Sure, they’d never gone into specifics or discussed an engagement, but they’d talked about the future, and they’d both agreed that they could see their relationship going the distance. So, this — a ring, a wedding — it was the natural next step, wasn’t it? It was what Sam wanted, right?

Christ. Bucky hoped so, because it was definitely what he wanted.

Or: Bucky is proposing. Sam is going through it.

Note: This is basically finished, the second and final chapter will be up within a week.

[cobrafantasies]

The UPS Driver

SamBucky / Rated G / Complete

Written for SamBucky Valentine’s Day Bingo 2023 by @sambuckylibrary, prompt: Meet-Cute

This UPS idea has been sitting in my WIPs forever! Happy Valentine's Day everyone!

Sam's had enough. Three packages stolen in the past two weeks — that's enough. If no one's gonna help him then he's gonna help himself. Thus, how Sam ends up sitting on his porch, on guard, each morning he has a package scheduled to arrive. 

It's been interesting so far. Interacting with the delivery and postal workers. They must not be used to meeting the actual recipients of the mail. Most of them are awkward as hell, timidly greeting Sam or clumsily handing him the package because they don't know what to do with it now that he's sitting here. But every package is now accounted for, so Sam is fine with enduring all the strange interactions he has to.

Sam hears the roar of a truck slow to halt and soon hears footsteps approaching his front steps. He lowers the newspaper he's reading and his eyes fall upon an unexpectedly fit body.

Jesus, that little brown UPS uniform might not be for such beefy thighs and bulging biceps. The man has both. Sam quickly lifts his gaze realizing how inappropriate his ogling must be but he finds the worker staring right back. 

"I can take that here, thank you," Sam prompts and holds out his hand.

The man is still frozen and it takes him a second to blink down and realize he is holding a brown box that he's meant to deliver.

"Oh um right, sorry — hi," the man smiles as he steps forward and hands Sam the package. Now that he's closer Sam can see how truly attractive the man's face is and with bright blue eyes that match the sky. 

"Hi," Sam echoes shyly and takes the box, "Thanks."

The driver stands there suddenly realizing this is all his job entails and briskly takes a step back.

"Well, have a nice day," the man extends with a little wave.

"You too," Sam returns and then shamelessly watches the man walk away. Those small brown shorts aren't hiding that cute ass either.

The next time Sam has a delivery scheduled with UPS, he ain't gonna lie, he's happy to see the same driver again. And the fine-looking man seems happy to see Sam too, he's smiling like a lot. It looks damn good on him too. Although what wouldn't look good on him — he's working that one-tone, paper color uniform for crying out loud. Which speaking of, looks even smaller today. Every corner of each garment is hugging his body tight enough that Sam vaguely wonders if the man swapped it out for a smaller size.

"Hey, Mr. Wilson," Bucky greets him clearly reading the name off the box he's holding.

Sam smiles on instinct. 

"Hey, Mr. UPS Driver," Sam responds.

The man chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Uh, it's Bucky."

"Bucky — as in your name?" Sam checks.

"Yeah, nickname anyhow," Bucky affirms as he hands the package over to Sam.

"Huh. Well, it's Sam."

"Sam," Bucky repeats like he's testing it on his tongue for the first time, "I'm glad you're still ordering things."

"Online shopping is the way of the world now, ain't it?" Sam jests.

"Sure is," Bucky agrees but his eyes are scanning Sam up and down with a smile that's downright sinful, "Hope you keep buying stuff. Have a good day, Sam."

Bucky waves goodbye as he steps off the porch. 

"Bye," Sam says distantly watching him walk away yet again.

It's not completely Sam's fault that Bucky returns three more times in the following week. Sam really needed... things. He bought a few things for his nephews, his sister, his living room and some other things UPS delivers. Sam can't totally remember what he bought. But the withdrawal from his bank account is worth every penny when Bucky steps back up on his porch with that tight uniform and charming smile. 

“This is probably my favorite house to deliver to," Bucky comments on this day.

“Oh, and why’s that?” Sam asks with a knowing smirk.

“The nice view,” Bucky grins and lets his eyes trail down Sam, “And good company. Not many people hang out on their porch.”

“Yeah well, I’ve been stolen from,” Sam reveals gravely.

Bucky doesn't miss a beat.

“Guess I’m lucky your neighbors are assholes,” he quips.

Sam laughs at that.

"Guess I'm lucky too," Sam agrees.

Sam's not really keeping track of the days. His late morning focus has become waiting for his hot UPS driver to deliver any which thing he buys, and then returns, from the internet. It's going well. They've started chatting a bit more on each visit. Sam's been contemplating how to make a move for a while now but he chickens out by the time Bucky routinely says, "Have a nice day, Sam."

Today is different. From the moment Sam sees Bucky walking up to the house, he's not just carrying a brown box in his hands. He's also holding a bouquet of flowers and a heart-shaped box of chocolates. Sam belatedly registers that today is Valentine's Day... not that he had any plans tonight anyhow.

Bucky steps up to Sam and holds the array of items out for him.

"What's this?" Sam asks.

"It looks like flowers and a box of chocolates," Bucky answers like a wise ass.

"Yeah, no shit," Sam smirks, "But I don't know who would've sent me them."

Bucky only shrugs and pushes the flowers toward him when Sam notices there's a card. He takes the bouquet and opens the note. As he reads it, his face softens.

The note reads: Dinner tonight? I'll deliver ;)

Sam slowly looks up at the blushing delivery driver.

"You asking me out, Buck?" 

"Nah," Bucky shakes his head, playing coy, "Asking you to be my valentine."

"In that case," Sam laughs to himself, "The answer's hell yes."