#sambucky wips

[logicheartsoul]

Sam Wilson & Bucky Barnes in Marvel Studios’ Assembled: The Making of The Falcon and The Winter Soldier (2021)

[19thcenturylover]

Little WIP :3

Idk, since I usually only post fanarts here, I'm going to leave a little Wingterbaron wip so I don't forget about tumblr xd

Plus, I'm going to try more ships and stuff, sometimes hyperfixation doesn't let me think about anything else but I'm going to try more content ones, I promise :3

"Purple, red and blue" just some pretty colors. I don't have much to say other than Wingterbaron yuri rarhh🗣‼️‼️

[exbex]

Hi! For the intimacy prompts: SamBucky + 21?

Sam’s heartrate is probably returning to its normal resting rate. 

Bucky’s, on the other hand, is definitely increasing.

Sam is standing in the kitchen, wearing what he calls runner’s leggings, what Bucky calls an imminent danger to motorists, and the royal blue hoodie that threatens to do Bucky in. He’s drinking from a metal water bottle and Bucky is losing his mind because he’s jealous of a damn bottle.

Sam turns to him and grins, and Bucky’s heartrate increases at the way his eyes light up, as if Bucky is the best thing he can think of coming home to. “Morning Sleepyhead.”

“Morning,” Bucky murmurs, and crosses the few feet between them. He takes the hem of the hoodie of excellence in his fingers, pauses, giving Sam time to put the brakes on, and when Sam just gives him a playful look, he begins to inch it up. “You look like you need to cool off.”

“Is that what you’re doing?” Sam smirks, but he lifts his arms to allow Bucky to pull it over his head and off.

Bucky leans in, kisses the pulse point in Sam’s neck. “Gotta check your heartrate; make sure it’s returning to normal.”

“I don’t think it’s gonna do that with you this close,” Sam says as he tilts his head to give Bucky easier access.

Bucky pulls away, slots his hands on the backs of Sam’s thighs. “Up,” he says, and lifts Sam in one easy movement. He relishes the way Sam gasps and wraps his legs around Bucky’s waist, leans his ear against Sam’s chest, and listens to his heart.

It’s strong, and steady, and reminds Bucky, more than the hoodie of excellence, more than the danger leggings, more than anything else at all, that he is damned lucky to be alive.

[sunsetmaidenwrites]

Ooooh kindergarten tracker for the WIP game?

Hi! Thanks so much for you ask. This one is basically a mash-up between the 90s movie Kindergarten Cop and the new TV show Tracker. Instead of being a cop in this scenario, Bucky is actually a survivalist and rewardist, who makes his living by locating missing people and collecting the reward money. As a favor to his boss, he has been tasked with locating the young daughter of drug runner and all around bad guy Brock Rumlow, before Brock locates the child himself. His search takes him to a school where Sam is also a teacher, and sparks fly. In this universe, we also have cameos by various younger MCU characters like MJ, Peter, Kate, Tandy and Tyrone, etc as kindergarten students. Here is a random snippet:

“Mrs. Hagley is a way better teacher than you.”

“Is she?”

“Mmm hmm. My dad’s a better teacher than you, too.”

“Great. Thanks for that, Kid.”

He began to work on his room, both surprised and a little bit cheered when she immediately started helping. She picked up a fallen chair, then bent to start picking up blocks. “On Monday, my dad tutors. Mrs. Quinn takes care of me. She’s not even a teacher, but she’s a better teacher than you, too.”

“Great. Thanks for sharing.”

“And Declan, my swim coach. Miss Suzanne, my t-ball coach. They’re better than you, too.”

“Look, I really appreciate your honesty, Kid. Truly. You happen to know someone that’s not better than me?”

“No. But I’m only five. I don’t know that many people.”

Bucky let out a bark of laughter. MJ followed suit.

Maybe the kid wasn’t so bad after all.

They worked in tandem, cleaning up the room for another twenty minutes or so before Sam Wilson appeared at the door. “What a day, huh?”

“Yeah.”

“It gets easier.”

“For him, it won’t,” MJ predicted.

“Michelle,” Sam said firmly.

“Sorry Dad. You taught me to never lie.”

Dad. Bucky’s heart plummeted. The man had a kid. And was probably straight. And really, why did it even matter? Bucky had a job to do and would be gone in a matter of weeks. “She’s yours?”

“Guilty.”

“She’s smart.”

“Guilty,” MJ said with a cheeky smile.

[hellwrites]

Accidental Sugar Daddy Bucky AU where Sam is in grad school and working at a bar to make money. Bucky is regular at the bar, they don't really talk but Sam always serves Bucky and they have a silent acquaintance with one another.

One night Bucky overhears Sam telling Nat that his roommate Scott has a new boyfriend (Clint) who's partially deaf, and the noise of them having sex is making it impossible for him to study for upcoming tests. Bucky comes back at closing time and offers Sam the keys to his apartment. He explains he's going on a business trip and won't be home for a week or so. If Sam waters his one house plant and takes in his mail, he's welcome to stay for free.

Sam is hesitant at first, but after getting no peace at home the first night, he decides to use the key and get some peace at Bucky's place.

Bucky comes home a week later, he and Sam get to talking, about their lives and pasts etc. Bucky is a former trust fund baby whose family all died in an accident and now he's being pulled in a bunch of different directions to organise his family's estate. Sam is aiming to get his PhD in child psychology in order to work for CPS or similar.

They talk late into the night and when Sam offers Bucky's key back, he tells him to keep it. Whenever he needs some quiet to study, he's always welcome here.

They don't see each other often for the first few weeks, but the fridge is always stacked with Sam's favourite snacks, which he finds endearing.

Fast forward to the end of the semester, and Bucky asks Sam if he wants to stay while he figures out his next move, since Scott and Clint have gotten serious and decided to live together. Sam accepts. Bucky is thrilled. Neither one broaches the subject of their increasing attraction towards one another.

[thatmexisaurusrex]

i wanna hear more about the pi/art thief au!! 💞✨

wip game

Oooh, so this one has been a long time coming. I've had a draft of this for literal years and I know people keep asking about it, but I actually pulled it out to edit and work on it for a request by @ninesdb for a charity thing. It's going to come out soon after some beta work is done on it. But yeah, it's what it says on the tin - Private Investigator Sam Wilson who deals mostly with art theft finds himself on a case where he's in search of the infamous art thief the White Wolf. Here's a little snippet from the fic:

“Didn’t plan for this winter, huh?” asked Sam, because Sam was slowly transforming into his mother, just talking to random people in line.

The man turned, and there was something gripping about his eyes. Not just because they were a color that stood out, this color that reminded Sam of the ice grotto in Mer de Glace when Riley had convinced him that Chamonix, France was worth a visit when they decided to go on vacation across Europe.

Before.

Well.

His death.

What stood out was the sheer surprise, like no one ever talked to him before. Or maybe he was just shy. It would be Sam’s luck to try to chat up the shyest guy in the line, like some strange worse sequel to Flight of the Concord’s ‘The Most Beautiful Girl in the Room’.

The Most Shyest Guy in the Line.

“Um. What?” asked the guy, his voice… god, why was his voice like smooth whiskey?

There was an intense disconnect with his height, his voice, his entire look and his personality and none of this should be working for Sam.

And it was ridiculous.

Sam was a mess right now.

He wasn’t in a headspace to even think about someone else.

Stop that, Sam.

Work on yourself before jumping the first cute person you see in a line.

“You’re shivering. You definitely didn’t dress properly for the weather,” said Sam, because his brain and his mouth weren’t collaborating anymore, “New to town or tourist?”

The man shrugged stiff from the cold, a small smile on his face as he looked away, and oh, wait, no, maybe the shrug wasn’t stiff, it was the left arm, the man doing his best to hide it. And Sam knew the signs of someone worried about people being uncomfortable about a missing limb.

An intense amputation, from what Sam could tell, since doctors usually tried to save legs and arms below elbows and knees to give a person the best quality of life possible yet it looked like it was probably the entire shoulder down.

Sam would tell him it was okay. He knew people with missing limbs. One wouldn’t make Sam uncomfortable.

But.

Bringing attention to it might scare him off. Would probably be rude. Sam decided to only bring it up if the man brought it up first.

“I don’t know. I suppose I’m visiting for a bit,” said the man, hand shoved farther into his leather jacket, “I’m a grad student. Art history. I was actually here to study the Wakanda exhibit that the British Museum loaned to the National Gallery. I sort of specialize in jewelry, clothing, and weavings, so I was hoping to see the Damisa-Sarki Habit.”

Sam frowned, trying to remember if he saw that in the exhibit (Sam didn’t remember seeing anything marked “Damisa-Sarki Habit”), though, it wasn’t as if he saw the entire exhibit, and Sam knew the only thing that was stolen (since the White Wolf generally only took one specific item every time) was the Panther Necklace. Sam knew he probably shouldn’t say anything, but didn’t want the guy to waste his money on a ticket.

“The entire Wakandan exhibit is closed right now, actually. You’d find this out if you walk in anyways, but, um… there was an incident last night and they had to shut down the entire area.”

“Really?” said the man, blinking, “I guess I rode all the way from Brooklyn for nothing.”

“Rode?” echoed Sam, like an extremely smart person.

The guy smiled a bit bigger, letting out a little laugh, making eye contact with those goddamn intense eyes as he said, “I own a motorcycle.”

No, Sam.

You do not find him driving a motorcycle attractive.

That attractive.

Fuck.

Wait.

“Why weren’t you ready for winter if you’re from New York?” asked Sam, confused.

The man shrugged.

“I’m not usually in New York,” explained the man, “I go to grad school elsewhere. But I was visiting someone and they’re taking care of my motorcycle at the moment. I sort of decided to come here impromptu this morning since the person I was visiting was busy today.”

Sam tried not to show his disappointment. Because of course he was visiting someone. Had someone, probably. Some girlfriend or boyfriend or someone. Someone he trusted enough to do upkeep on his motorcycle. And Sam and this man had just met, like, five seconds ago. It made no sense for Sam to feel this heartbroken.

“Sorry you wasted your time,” said Sam, genuinely apologetic.

That was over a three-hour drive by car.

“I think the exhibit’s going to be here for another few months,” continued Sam, “So, maybe you can catch it another day?”

“Yeah. I could do that. And I don’t think I wasted my time,” said the man, much more suave than he started out, “I got to meet you, after all. I’m Bucky, by the way.”

“Sam,” said Sam, a little too quick, probably because Sam was definitely too much of a mess to be doing something like this, “Sam. I’m Sam. Nice to meet you, Bucky. It’s Bucky, right? I think I’ve only heard of one other Bucky before.”

There was something warm about Bucky’s eyes as he stepped towards the barista, saying, “Nice to meet you, too. What about I buy you your coffee?”

[lullyannie]

Sambucky WIP!

i've bought my first iPad and it's been amazing so far, so i've decided to come back with the sambucky drawings, starting with this little wip. i don't have any idea how i'm gonna color it or if i'll ever finish it, i guess we'll see!

is this place still alive?!

[glittercake]

WIP GAME

@downwarddnaspiral thank you for the tag to share some of my wips :) which... i cant believe i actually have unposted wips for a change! i normally just write one thing at a time and finish it. i cant say when any of these will be done though, but at least they exist lmao. i've been busy irl and too tired to write.

so. here goes:

The sambucky divorce AU: titled Moments Away for now (from the Mango Groove song) i have about 6k, redid the outline 3 times because it was just too much, and had some personal war flashbacks while writing it so i had to take a breather 😂 Excerpt:

Sam's mama always said love’s never going to be enough and he didn't understand how that was possible. He didn’t understand—as a seventeen-year-old, so in love he could barely see out of his own eyes, or as a sophomore on the back of a dropout, bad boy’s motorbike, or as a new father of beautiful twin girls with the love of his life—how that could ever be the truth. But he gets it now. 

more below the cut!

Next is a Sambucky Night Agent AU: based on the netflix series. it's basically cap sam/modern bucky but with suspense :) this is literally all i have so it might change completely:

There’s murder on the news. The Vice President’s dead. The nation’s in uproar. They’re saying he did it. They’re saying Captain America has committed treason. His face is plastered across the news, on every station on every street pole, his description is flying through the airways as he sits here covered in blood, trying to catch his breath. He didn’t do this. Sam can’t fucking breathe. He’s not someone to admit this easily, but he needs help. He needs help in a big fucking way. He eyes the number that dying woman stuffed in his hand earlier and hopes his phone line is still connected.

This one is a post canon fic where they run into each other on vacation and decide to have a little summer fling and then drama happens when bucky joins thunderbolts when they return.

Technically Sam wouldn’t be fucking his co-worker. Technically, they’ve only worked together like once, really. Bucky’s mouth is in his neck right now, and Sam can feel a bruise forming but he’s doing nothing to stop it because Bucky’s hand is also on Sam’s dick and it’s all going downhill real quick. So does he want to shit where he eats? No. Is he going to tell Bucky to stop? Also no. They’re on vacation and it’s anything but separate, like they threatened—in fact they’re plastered together—so something, something stays in Vegas…

then a fucking vampire AU?? which was very unexpected but I'm having fun planning it and writing little bits at a time. basically sam is a photographer looking to advance his career and bucky is a 100yo vampire. hmm.

There’s a sudden movement at the top of the stairs, so swift it’s dizzying. Sam can't place it. Just a gust of black night and bright blue, like the electric zap of lightning in a storm. Sam’s instinct is to retreat, wanting to back himself out of there. Overcome with fear. But something else sticks him in place, makes him hone in on the movement. A tall, slim figure, pale as moonlight, glides down the steps as if they’re not there at all, with the grace of an encroaching predator, salivating with deadly hunger, and Sam can’t move. Only after a few paralyzing moments does he recognize the shape as a person. A man. Sam realizes now that the flash of electric blue he’d seen is the man’s eyes.

anyway, that's it. i'm actually keen to get work done on these. hopefully i get some time soon :)

[sambambucky]

Hi, hello! BuckySam & Scott?!?!?!?!?! Please tell me more???

H♡WDYYY!!!!!! oh yeah, oh yeah.. this one is sooo.

i started talking about this here, but basically a college sam moves into a crusty apartment with best bro straight allies scott and clint who cheer him on through all things sleeping around campus and eventually are by his side during the most annoying parts of his new thing with Bucky. here's a snippet:

"Who’s that?" Scott asks as he comes into the main room. Sam has half a second to be thankful it’s not Clint, who would just snatch the phone from his hand and read the thread himself, or god forbid Natasha, who would know just by reading his expression. "You got that look." Sam rolls his eyes, "What look?" "You know – " Scott rests his chin on both fists with a dopey grin " – this look."  "Fuck you," Sam laughs, "I don't look like that." "Uh, ya you do? When you like someone? Or you're getting really good dick." Sam rolls his eyes, mostly for show. "Well I'm texting Bucky. If your nosey ass must know.” "Oh nice, you finally got his number," Scott says excitedly, plopping down next to Sam. "Did he send a good dick pic?" Sam raises an eyebrow, sighs, "what is it with you and dick pics?" Scott shrugs, "it's not like I’m going to get any. I just wanna see, I don't know. Don't change the subject, man, what're you talking about? You two gonna do the horizontal tango again?” Sam snorts, handing his phone over, "trying to figure that out, actually."

thanks for asking!<3<3; from the WIP game

[logicheartsoul]

Sam Wilson & Bucky Barnes Hug in Marvel Studios’ Assembled: The Making of The Falcon and The Winter Soldier (2021)

[jonkentt]

a little Sambucky ~

Bucky starts collecting vinyls. Sam notices them accumulate in his apartment. How very typical of Bucky to buy records while refusing to invest in a mattress. Sam glances at the pile of blankets shoved under Bucky’s couch and regrets it.

“Even thinking about you sleeping on this floor every night makes my back hurt.”

“I sleep on the couch sometimes.”

“Yeah?” Sam claps a hand on Bucky’s shoulder with a laugh. “That’s great, maybe we’ll be able to get you in a bed before the next century.”

“It’s a lot less important than you make it seem.”

“If you slept in a bed you’d see my side.” Sam squeezes Bucky’s shoulder and leans into him. “You know I’m just looking out for you.”

“I know,” Bucky says softly and Sam can tell he’s smiling.

“What’re you doing?” Sam leans over Bucky’s shoulder to get a look at the kitchen counter which is littered in tea bags of every color. It looks like Bucky just dumped them all out of the jar he stuffs them in. Why he can’t keep the different flavors in their individual boxes, Sam has no idea.

“Makin’ tea. What kind do you want?”

“Umm you pick. Something fruity.” Bucky grins. “Make sure it goes well with—”

“Honey. I know.” Bucky reaches to open the cupboard above him and pull out a honey bear for assurance. Sam gives his shoulders another squeeze before wandering over to a stack of records that hadn’t been here last time Sam came over.

Sam picks through the records on the top, wrinkling his nose at Dire Straits and Journey. He sets those aside so he can get to the box underneath and leaf through them properly.

“Buy anything good lately?”

“You ask me that as if I would buy bad music.” Sam snorts. “But yeah I found a couple European records. I guess it’s called ‘downtempo’. Café music. It’s nice.”

Sam hums doubtfully. He hears the electric kettle start and continues to look through Bucky’s music, gently pulling out one at a time to look at the covers. He doesn’t recognize a lot of these, which Sam immediately equates to Bucky’s inferior taste. God, he hopes Bucky didn’t pick up any of the stuff Zemo played on his jet.

Bucky sidles over and rests his vibranium hand gently on Sam’s hip. With the other he flicks to the back of the crate and quickly pulls out an album in black with white geometric line art on it. Sam quirks an eyebrow just to be difficult.

“If this is some weird indie shit—”

“Just let one side play out, Sam. Then pick something else if you hate it, but you won’t cause it’s good.”

As Bucky slips the record from it’s sleeve, Sam plops onto his couch. He stretches his arms and leans back, closing his eyes. This has become sort of a routine for them: Sam coming over and Bucky playing his music. It helps Sam unwind, relax, finally exhale the intensity he feels he’s always holding inside. Bucky’s one of the few people Sam can truly be at ease with. They give each other a lot of shit but it comes from a place of truly embracing one another for who they are. It’s never in question that they have each other’s backs.

Sam settles more comfortably into the couch. Whatever tea Bucky’s steeping smells lovely. Definitely fruity. Sam only half pays attention as the record spins through the first track but so far it isn’t bad. As the next track starts all smooth keyboard and mellow vibes, Sam might even dare say it’s relaxing. He opens one eye when Bucky presses a steaming mug into his hand.

“Happy Tangerine,” Bucky says with a wink. “With honey.”

Sam smiles and hums his approval, closing his eyes again. The record is unexpected. Somehow the music is both upbeat and very chill. A pleasant ambiance that inexplicably reminds him of tall evergreens against a pink sky. Sam brings the tea to his lips to blow on it.

“What’d you say this was?”

“Downtempo. Downbeat? I had to get the record shipped in from the UK. It was a whole deal.”

A laugh tickles the back of Sam’s throat. “Nerd.”

“You hate it?”

“No…” Sam considers. “It’s almost okay.”

“Mm, told you.” Bucky’s voice is low and soft. Sam can feel the heat of Bucky’s breath on his lips and his heart skips. Their faces must be so close. They’d barely have to lean in at all to close the distance.

Slowly, Sam opens his eyes. He blinks. Bucky’s face isn’t there. Sam tilts his head to look around the room but he knows what he’ll find. Bucky is sitting against the opposite wall right beside his record player, mirroring Sam with his head tilted back and eyes closed. Sam blinks again and slowly, silently, exhales. He looks at Bucky for a moment longer. His upturned face illuminated by sunlight filtering in through the window and catching the dimples of his small smile.

Sam drops his head back again. One day he’ll have to do something about this. The whole imagining what Bucky’s lips would feel like on his. The whole mistaking the steam of his tea for Bucky’s breath as if it would be just as sweet. But for now he lets their old routine play out.

for @saryasy

on Ao3

[exbex]

Okay, I must know: what is sambucky ambush wedding 😆

@thatmexisaurusrex, @questinwitchface

You asked within a minute of one another, lol.

Sarah doesn’t want Sam and Bucky to elope. She’s about to take matters into her own hands.

[elwenyere]

WIP Game

Rules: Make a 24-hour poll with the names of your wips, let it run, then write one sentence for every vote the winner received.

I was tagged by @frostbitebakery: thank you so much for the tag, my dear. I've included the five WIPs that are currently most active. Every vote counts toward making me a marginally more functional manager of tasks.

Open tags for anyone who would like to play! If you, like me, need to microdose on executive function in order to fuel your writing process, please feel very welcome to @ me in your polls.

[firstelevens]

WIP Writing Poll

I have a bunch of things that I would like to work on but it's just not happening and I'm running out of harebrained foods to cook as a procrastination tool, so we're just gonna try this instead.

rules: make a 24-hour poll with the names of your wips, let it run, then write one sentence for every vote the winner received.

[thatmexisaurusrex]

For the wip game--Like Sysiphus Pushing Up That Boulder? Thanks!

wip game

Oooh, this one's fun! I'll finish it at some point! It's a neighbors to lovers AU where Sam is an author and Bucky's a neighbor who has a terrible singing voice but still sings in the shower. Here's a little snippet of it:

It was a constant.

A sheer.

Stammering.

Strange rhythm of broken keys and wrong lyrics that came from his thin wall.

Loud. And way off the beat. And much too passionate for something that had to just be singing in the shower.

Sam had been working on the book for about three months, but this last month had been tiring, fucking tiring. Like Sisyphus pushing up that boulder.

Because Sam Wilson had a new neighbor.

And that neighbor couldn’t find a note if he was live autotuned.

And that neighbor had a shower on the wall right next to Sam’s.

And that neighbor kept singing in the shower.

Sam hadn’t met the neighbor yet.

He really hadn’t. But he was this close to telling this neighbor just how he felt about his singing skills.

Scratch that.

Sam was at the end of his rope now that his neighbor decided he was going to butcher “16 Carriages” by Beyoncé.

Sam stood up from his desk, making his way out of his apartment and to the door next to his own.

And.

Started to bang on the door.

And.

And.

Okay.

Sam hadn’t expected the man to be hot. That wasn’t fair.

“Uh, hi,” said Sam’s neighbor, soaking wet and all abs and intense eye contact and only a towel that barely wrapped around him, “Sorry, was I – I was being too loud, wasn’t I?”

Sam.

Nodded.

Not really finding his words.

“Sorry about that. I get a little carried away,” said the neighbor as he extended his hand, “I’m Bucky, you’re – ?”

“Sam,” said Sam, shaking Bucky’s hand.

Bucky smiled.

“Nice to meet you, Sam.”

[saryasy]

I'm writing the obligatory "Sam finds Bucky before Civil War" fic. so here's a snippet:

It’s Barnes who breaks the silence this time. “Why are you here anyway?”

“I’m looking for you.”

“Yeah, I know, but why?”

“For Steve.” Sam doesn’t miss the way Barnes tenses at Steve’s mention, just like he did weeks ago in the middle of the Moroccan square. 

He waits a moment or two, until the tension seeps out of his edges, and just like that he’s back to his casual charming self - or back to pretending, Sam still can’t tell what’s true with him and what isn’t. “Seems like an awful lot of work to do for a guy you just met,” he then says.

Sam shrugs. “Maybe I’m not doing it just for him.” The words fall between the two walking bodies, making a few steps alongside them, and Sam wishes he could take them back.

Barnes must sense that because he latches into them like a vulture to its prey. “Hmmm. I wonder who else you could be doing it for.” Sam’s breath hitches, his heartbeat quickens. He tries to bring them both down, doesn’t want Barnes to pick up on his panic, but something tells him it’s too late for that. “Searching for your new friend’s old friend. You had an old friend once,” he says as if he’s just remembering. “More than just a friend, one could say.” The words gnaw at the same old wound in Sam’s heart. Even if he tried to hide his panic, he’s sure his broken face is too easy to read. “What was his name, again?” Barnes strokes his chin twice, and Sam knows it’s all for show. “Riley?”

As soon as the word is out of his mouth, Sam has him pinned against a brick wall, an arm pushing deep into his neck, the other hand grasping his jacket. “Listen here, you son of a bitch,"