#not only when interacting with bucky but generally when sam was having his moment people would just EDIT STEVE IN

[anonymityisfunwriter]

Secret Moments In a Crowded Room

Pairing: Grumpy!Bucky Barnes x Sunshine!Reader

"If I didn't know any better I'd think you like me as your dirty little secret," he gruffly chuckles, sitting at the foot of your bed watching as you put the finishing touches on your outfit for tonight. 

"My dirty little secret? No. Never."

"But?"

"It's kinda fun though," you coyly offer, turning away from the mirror to face Bucky. "Our secret moments in a crowded room. They have no idea about me and you."

"Did you just quote Taylor Swift?" he sighs in exasperation, pulling you closer to him by your waist. 

"Maybe."

"All I'm saying is if I see a single pervy look or someone hitting on you, our secrets not going to be a secret anymore," he warns, though his smirk defies the serious tone of his words. 

"I think that's a fair deal."

Surprisingly, the night didn't drag for Bucky. Not in the slightest.

In fact, time ebbed and flowed rather quickly for an event like this. Normally, these large, extravagant, black tie events to keep the Avengers in the public's good graces were absolutely awful. He usually said very little, he wouldn't move from his stool at the bar, he barely interacted with anyone outside of his normal circle, he didn't give people any more ammunition against him. 

But even though you'd parted from him over an hour ago, he didn't even feel your absence. How could he with this little game you were playing?

In that way, you were absolutely right, it was a lot of fun.

Quick, fleeting moments with no one none the wiser. Every few minutes he'd catch your eye or you'd catch his. This time he juts his head in the direction of the side exit. Your lips pull in to hide your mischievous grin, but still you slightly shake your head reminding him that you couldn't leave yet. 

It was almost a challenge.

You were challenging him to be the first to break, to reveal your secret in a room full of reporters. He does his best to contain his grin, knowing that anything other than his stone-faced expression would definitely garner some attention. He coyly bites his lip when your eyes flicker back to him. 

"You guys are still doing this?" Sam groans, eyes flickering between the lingering, flirty gazes you and Bucky are exchanging. "Hello?"

"Huh? What?" Bucky asks, reluctantly tearing his eyes away from you. 

"I've been talking to you for like ten minutes."

"Yeah, yeah, no, that sounds great," Bucky unconvincingly agrees. "A great idea."

"Now I know you weren't listening," Sam scolds, taking a long drink from his glass only to see that Bucky isn't listening once again. "Is it alright if I have your arm?"

"Sure. No problem," Bucky absently replies, not even turning his head to reply to Sam. 

"And will you cover my assignments for the next year?"

"Yeah, mhm... Don't worry about it."

"Is it okay if I tell the world you two are together?"

"What?" Bucky exclaims, finally tearing his eyes away from you. "No!"

Sam scoffs, "Of course, that you hear."

"Why would you even ask me that?"

"This has to be the world's worst kept secret," Sam complains. "Everyone already knows!"

"They don't," Bucky corrects, pointing to the gaggle of reporters standing around waiting for their next story. But he could concede that there were whispers, little breadcrumbs given to the general public. 

In a way, this secret had become a fun game between you and Bucky - and ostensibly the rest of the team.

It was one big inside joke that turned into subliminal messages in social media posts, little easter eggs for people to dissect.

Maybe you shouldn't have been encouraging it, but Bucky had to admit, it was pretty fun watching people fall down rabbit holes trying to reason the whole thing out. 

Just a few weeks ago, you posted a picture of Bucky calling him your best friend. Only for you to tweet that your favorite song was 'Dress' a few days later. But you weren't the only one egging people on, lately Bucky had taken to liking your pictures and posts just a little too quickly for people to not notice.

The latest game you were playing with the public were with people trying to catch Bucky in the background of videos and pictures you posted. It was downright entertaining watching you laugh at the way people swore they could see a glint of Bucky's metal arm in a mirror. Or when you posted a picture of wearing sunglasses that people swore looked identical to Bucky's. 

In a way, it was simply a fun game used to kill off-time. 

But you and Bucky did have real reasons why you were remaining tight-lipped. 

Bucky didn't want to be the catalyst of your fall from grace. He'd seen it many times, especially for the women on the team. A person built up and beloved by the public, only for the tide to violently turn without warning. Right now, people loved you, and he didn't want to be the reason they didn't anymore. 

Your reasoning was similar.

As a new member, as someone constantly shrouded with all things SHIELD and Avengers, you were still in that phase where people wanted to know everything about you. Every facet was of your life was microscopically examined. And while you didn't mind it all that much, you didn't want to drag Bucky back into the limelight. You knew how hard of a time he had with the public, particularly people who still only saw him as the Winter Soldier and if you could protect him from that, you would. 

You both agreed that as long as you were having fun with it, you'd keep playing this little game. People assumed they knew everything about you already, but it was clear to everyone close to you that they didn't know anything all. And you'd keep it that way for as long as possible.

--

"Let me guess, they snuck off already?" Sam snarkily asks as Steve slinks over to where he's standing at the bar. 

"Pretty much."

"So because we're not in a relationship, we're the only ones expected to stay?" Sam scoffs, noting that most of the team had left even though this event was supposed to be mandatory from beginning to end. Tony even held a meeting that under no circumstance was anyone to leave before the event was finished. But as he scanned the room, it was incredibly apparent that you'd all left without saying anything to him or Steve. "That's not fair."

"Life's not fair."

"Since they're not here, who's going to stop me from blabbing to those reporters? Or posting them on Instagram? No one that's who."

Steve chuckles thinking that Sam's just making a joke about how they're forced to continue their appearance here while everyone else has called it a night, though when he see the look of challenge on Sam's face, he vehemently shakes his head. "No, Sam. Absolutely not."

"What? Maybe it'll be an accident. Maybe I accidentally post a picture."

"Sam, you're being childish," Steve chides.

"Well, who's gonna stop me?"

"I think Bucky would actually kill you."

"He wouldn't," Sam scoffs. 

"If you out them, he absolutely will."

"It's not outing them. It's making an insinuation to the general public," he teases, pulling out his phone to continue his joke.

"You're insinuating that they're together."

"Look at them," he coos, showing Steve an image of one of your reunions.

It was sort of when he'd made peace with you two as a couple. When he learned to accept it with an occasionally big brother-esque threat to keep Bucky in line.

He smiled thinking about how, in spite of the grueling exhaustion and bumps and bruises, you were giddy back getting back to Bucky. It was a sweet picture of the two of you lying on the couch together, curled underneath a blanket that was much too small for the two of you. But even sleeping, you both looked disgustingly, tooth-rottingly happy. 

"Quit messing around," Steve scolds, but still cranes his neck to look at the picture. "But you're right, it is a cute picture."

"My OTP," Sam jokes, dramatically typing away at his phone, showing Steve the screen as he carefully cultivates his 'accidental' post. "Insert heart emoji. Hashtag: Grumpy Sunshine."

"Stop messing around," Steve hisses. "Let them tell people their own terms."

"You're right," Sam sighs in concession. "I'm just playing. I'm not going to do that."

"Delete that before you get yourself into trouble."

"Fine," Sam huffs, only half paying attention when he deletes the post and shoves his phone back in his pocket. 

He and Steve both continue standing around at the bar waiting for an appropriate moment to make their exit. It was always a difficult tell with these kinds of events, if they left too early their absences would most certainly be noted, but if they left too late they were most likely going to get hounded by tenacious, annoyingly persistent reporters. 

It's only been a few minutes of idle chatter and waiting when Sam's phone starts to buzz incessantly. It's not just one of two consecutive buzzes, it's dozens, more even - so many that it almost sounds like one continuous notification. 

"Jeez, someone's a popular guy," Steve quips, hearing the continuous buzzing in Sam's pocket. 

Sam rolls his eyes, though he's equally curious about the random notifications that are still blowing up his phone. He takes one look and his face drops, "Oh no." 

"What happened?"

Sam anxiously bites his fist, scrolling through the dozens of notifications. He's still stunned shock as he turns to show Steve his phone, or more specifically, the post he meant to delete posted for everyone to see.

"You didn't," Steve gasps. 

"Oh, I swear it was an accident! It was an accident - Why would they put the delete button next to the post button? That's a disaster just waiting to happen!"

"You didn't," Steve repeats. "I thought you were just goofing off!"

"It was an accident!" Sam insists, locking his screen as if that will somehow contain the can of worms he'd just opened. 

"Take it down," Steve yelps. 

"Oh no..."

"What?"

Sam turns the phone again to show Steve the new message from Bucky: WHAT THE HELL?

Steve claps a hand on a still stunned Sam's shoulder, "It was nice knowing you, buddy."

Sam's screen lights up again with a subsequent message from you that slightly assuaged his concerns, if only because you wouldn't let Bucky kill him.

Your message read: Aww.. I love that picture! 

Part 2 (Drabble)

AnonymityIsFun Masterlist Grumpy Sunshine Series Masterlist Inspired By Taylor Swift Masterlist

#anonymityisfunwriter #anonymityisfun #grumpy sunshine trope #grumpy sunshine #grumpy x sunshine #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #james bucky barnes #sam wilson #steve rogers #reader insert #x reader #marvel fanfiction #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky angst #bucky x female reader #james buchanan barnes #bucky fic #bucky fluff #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes au #bucky x you #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #dress taylor swift

[serpentargo]

you guys... today i saw how people edit steve into the moments in tfatws with sam and bucky and it was the most disgusting thing i've ever seen

#don't get me wrong #i love steve #but... #wtf #not only when interacting with bucky but generally when sam was having his moment people would just EDIT STEVE IN #y'all i am disappointed #marvel

[wenellyb]

Is Sambucky Canon or Not?

TL;DR: Yes, it is

I've seen some people saying that they only see friendship between Sam and Bucky, and I can understand that. Because depending on your education, the environment you grew up and the kind of media you’re usually exposed to, you will have a different interpretation of different situations, in real life or in TV. Just let me insert a short story before I dive into the Sambucky topic:

My best friend's uncle is in his fifties and has been living with his roommate (a man) for more than 10 years. They lived together, went on holidays together but officially were just roommates. My best friend wondered if they were a couple, but never talked about it to her parents because it wasn't her business. Two years ago, they decided to come out and get married. My best friend's parents and his parents were genuinely surprised, they were not expecting that, at all, not even a little bit. Let me tell you that it didn’t even cross their mind that it was a possibility, at all. For them, it had always just been two men who had decided to live together because they were single. And preferred to have a roommate rather than living alone.

What I want to say with this story is that people will see what they want to see, or what they're used to see, or what they were raised to see. It’s human.

What I mean is that you will have different perception of a same event, depending on your own circumstances. And I think the writers of TFATWS were counting on that a little bit when it came to Sam and Bucky’s relationship. They obviously didn't want to make some big announcement or big love declaration.

And yes, of course, I have my own circumstances as well, influencing the way I see things. I have shipped SamBucky since Civil War, when they were supposedly enemies. I never expected anything to happen between them on screen. But then they got a show together and I was so so happy about it but I didn't expect anything other than friendship between them.

I was perfectly fine with that because a show was already more than enough: my man Sam Wilson was becoming Captain America, the show was great, the characters were great, their interactions were great, and this wasn't a love story anyway but a superhero show. I thought that here was no way the showrunners would ever go there. I changed my mind after episode 5. I tried to stay objective, but it was clear to me that the writers were hinting at a relationship that went beyond friendship between Sam and Bucky. In some of my previous posts, I explained that there are some scenes and writing choices that make absolutely no sense if you read them as a scene between two friends. I can link them if anyone’s interested.

Side note: I would like to know if one person on this website can tell me what was up with Bucky's behavior with Torres (in episode 5)? What other explanation is there, if not jealousy? It's a scene they chose to keep, so it was probably written this way, there must be a reason. Please I’m begging someone explain it to me. I'm genuinely asking, because otherwise that scene alone is canon Sambucky.

After episode 5, I was convinced they would make Sambucky canon, one way or the other and I started speculating about the ways they could do it. What I said was that if they did make Sambucky canon, they would do it in a very subtle way, in order not to make it too obvious because that’s generally how Marvel movies deal with love stories. And also because they wouldn’t want to scare away their homophobic audience ( I guess Disney needs their money...who knows)

So here are the scenes of how I imagined SamBucky becoming canon and the comparison with reality:

1.

- What I thought we could get : AJ and Cass calling Bucky "Uncle Bucky" - What we got: AJ and Cass running up to Bucky and playing with him. This point is interesting because it’s also related to the point I made about how the environment you grew up in influences your perception of things. I grew up in a big family and I know that, at least in my family, kids don't run up to an adult like that just because it's their uncle’s friend or just because he's nice... There's a real bond there. They haven't seen Bucky just that one time when he slept on the couch. They're obviously close. But some people might just see this as kids being kids. Also, if you watch at how the kids were fake punching him, they were really coordinated with Bucky. They have done this plenty of times. 2.

What I thought we could see: A non-explicit scene where we were supposed to draw our own conclusions. I thought they could show us Bucky staying over for the night, and the last scene would be an empty couch, meaning we would have to understand that Bucky slept in Sam's room this time.

-What we got: Bucky arriving in Sam's car ( A few people on Tumblr pointed out that it was the car Sam was driving in episode 1) So here again we have a scene that a lot of people will not notice. But they still chose to put it there. 3.

What I thought could happen: Sam asking Bucky to stay in Delacroix

What we got: Bucky wrapping things up in New York, as if he was leaving the city for good and coming to Sam's party as if he already knew everyone there. You can read my take on this here. 4. What I thought could happen: The scene in the trailer where we see them looking in the same direction and then we get a shot from very far away where they're holding hands but it’s not so obvious because they are being filmed from a disctance. -What we got: The scene in trailer and then a blurry shot of Sam holding Bucky and then fondling with his neck to find the best spot to rest his hand on. So none of the scenes I was imagining happened exactly like I had imagined, but it felt like all of them happened but in a different versions, which is still crazy to me. If it had been only one scene. I could probably understand the people who see them as just friends. Actually, I still do understand the people who see them as just friends, because everyone has their own interpretation. What I am saying is that they are NOT being portrayed as just friends. There are TOO many scenes in the 6 episodes for it to be a coincidence. One or 2 would be ok but friendship doesn’t explain everything:

The therapy scene (not the therapy scene itself since it was improvised) but the therapist saying she had heard a lot about Sam and wanting them to do a couples’ therapy

Bucky following Sam no matter what

Sam saying ok as soon as Bucky says "do it for me"

Sam asking "what about Bucky?"

Bucky starting to touch Sam whenever he has the chance

Bucky being the one to bringing the suit for Sam

The boat repairing montage

Bucky wanting to stay at Sam's place, when a hotel room would have been more comfortable than a couch

The second day of boat repair in closed quarters with an intense staring scene.

And there are so many other scenes, soft touches, looks,...

These writing choices are not a coincidence, it’s not involuntary, and it’s not fan service ( Fan service is the roll in the flower field scene, or the therapy session). This is them telling a story.

Let’s not even talk about the scenes in Endgame:

Sam comforting bucky at Tony’s funeral

Sam looking up to Bucky for approval before accepting the shield from Steve.

So yes, Sam and Bucky are canon in the sense that Peter and Gamora were canon in the first movie, or Wanda and Vision were canon in Captain Civil War. Meaning that there was no big moment, kiss or anything, but the show is consistently throwing elements clearly showing Sam and Bucky as a romantic item and hinting at a lot more than friendship between them.

It is normal that some people have a different opinion. Because it is extremely rare, in big productions like this to have two male leads with romantic feelings towards each other, so not a lot people who see it will interpret it as such (I don't think it ever happened). You’ll see what you’re used to seeing.

I guess it also depends on what you expect from a love story. For me, the storyline between the characters, their scenes, their chemistry, the way their feelings towards each other are described, are the most important. The kiss scene is just there as a bonus, but I don't need it when the love story is told perfectly. If you’re used to seeing love stories with many kissing scenes, that’s what you will be expecting to see in most love stories.

If you're only used to seeing male friendships in superhero or action movies. The 1000th time you see men interacting in that type of movie or show, you are more likely to assume it is a friendship and nothing more, no matter how many codes and tropes usually associated with romantic movies, the writers and show makers are using.

Add to that the conviction that Disney would never approve Sambucky in a million years, and there you go, I can understand the people who see only friendship.

But, just think about it, if we had the same show, same scenes, same dialogues, but minus the action scenes and the project was being marketed as an Indie movie, would you think they were just friends or a blossoming couple?

If you read Sambucky’s relationship like a friendship: some scenes don't make sense. If you read it like a developing romantic relationship: it all makes sense. "When you hear hoofs, think horse, not zebra" If a writer or a film director chooses a last scene with a romantic setting and the two leads are staring at a sunset, smiling repeatedly at each other and then walking away together with one of them touching the other's neck, with a love song in the background, maybe friendship isn't the first thought they had in mind.

Some people may say “I see them as just friends” and other people may say “ I see them as lovers” and both are fine, because people have different perceptions, and that’s ok.

What I am saying is this post is that the show and the writers are portraying them as more than just friends, they’re portraying them as two characters who are romantically involved.

Perceive what you want but that’s how they are being presented in the show.

Bucky’s therapist said that the exercise she gave them was for couples who want to figure out what kind of life they want to build together. Then, the show ends with Sam and Bucky, staring at a sunset together, looking in the same direction.

“Love does not consist in gazing at each other, but in looking outward together in the same direction. “  - Antoine de Saint-Exupery

What else do you need???

This show had more romance than half of the Marvel projects out there. Not every love story needs a kiss (for now...)

We'll see in their next projects which direction the writers want to go with this. But since it was said that the writer on the movie is the same as the writer from episode 5, there's no doubt in my mind that we'll keep seeing this dynamic. I don't think they would have made the same choices if this had been a movie. But I won't complain that we got this. I hope they keep this going even if it stays subtle like in the show. Just hope they will add one explicit scene where one of the characters acknowledges their relationship. But even if we only ever get this show, it’s already a great love story. Let me know what you guys think and sorry for the typos and grammar mistakes, I was tired when I wrote the last part. I hope it still makes sense!

If you think they're only being portrayed as friends let me know why! I would also like to know about the way you see this!

#sambucky #sam wilson #bucky barnes #tfatws #the falcon and the winter soldier #tfatws spoilers #Please feel free to comment on this and tell me what you think #I'm genuinely interested in having other POVs

[merakiaes]

WE NEED TO TALK ABOUT BUCKY AND SARAH

TFATWS EP.5 SPOILERS BELOW THE CUT!

Do you know what I love the most about Bucky and Sarah’s interactions in the latest episode?

The fact that we got to see Bucky as Bucky, for the first time in a long time. 

After having gone through literal hell, he’s become reserved, suspicious, and uncertain. He’s hesitant and just generally unwilling and uninterested in creating new bonds, partly because of his trust issues and the inevitable fear of being stabbed in the back, abandoned and betrayed, but also because of his deep self-hatred. 

He has developed somewhat of a habit of not purposely putting himself in other people’s lives more than absolutely necessary, because he doesn’t want them to have him in their lives. He feels like people are better off without all the baggage that he comes with; without the trauma, without his dark past and horrible deeds. 

And then Sarah walks in. He takes one look at her, and it’s like time just stops and rewinds 80 years.

He suddenly takes the first step to start a conversation, to introduce himself, and obviously goes out of his way to appear charming in a similar way to when he first tried introducing himself to Peggy Carter. 

He pulled out the old lopsided, boyish grin, the smooth voice, the sparkling eyes that just say: “I’m into you”, and rather than trying to cover it up and be subtle about it, he made it painfully obvious what he was doing, letting his eyes take their sweet time in openly checking her out with full intent of letting her know what he thought of her. No shame, but on the contrary, with pride. 

Suddenly he’s flirty. Confident. Open. Initiative. Curious. Interested; something he hasn’t been since before his Winter Soldier days; not even with Leah with whom he was still very withdrawn and, in my opinion, appeared very unwilling to even consider bonding and opening up to.

And now we suddenly get to see him as the go-getter he used to be before Hydra. Before all that super soldier and brainwashing shit. We get to see him as the first person to start a conversation, rather than just speaking when spoken to; again, like we saw on his date with Leah - he didn’t go out of his way, whatsoever, to show her that he was actually interested.

But with Sarah: he shows no doubt, no fear, no uncertainty. Just genuine interest and intrigue. He sees something he likes, something he wants, and actually makes the move to go after it. No self-doubt, no self-hatred, no internal “I’m a monster and shouldn’t initiate any new relations with people who deserve better”-thoughts. 

Just....: “I’m Bucky” , with that overly-cocky, shit-eating, playboy-ish grin that we all know and love from back in his golden days.

She answers him with her own name, and he repeats it, looks down, and has to bite his fucking lip to contain his smile, and totally fails in doing so when his entire face breaks into a grin as he walks away with Sam. 

It’s genuine. Happy. It comes naturally and doesn’t have to be forced like most of his persona and relations are nowadays.

Even if only for the moment, his guilt-ridden conscience and shame disappears, and for the first time in a long time, it just comes naturally for him to put himself out there. Because that’s him. In this moment, he’s able to be himself without reading into it, without over-thinking it. It just happens. 

And even after all this time, this man still has fucking game, leaving her blushing, fiddling with her hands and looking down at her feet while smiling like a fucking school girl. 

To wrap it up, all of my points are just proven even further by the fact that Sam noticed, and specifically forbade Bucky from moving in on his sister. That only shows even further how genuine, real and natural his reaction to seeing and meeting Sarah for the first time was and it’s fucking incredible.

Like, this? You see this, right here? The way he looks her up and down, smiles, clearly likes what he sees and makes absolutely NO attempt in denying his attraction to himself, nor hiding it from his surroundings? The way he looks down, almost shyly, and then can’t stop smiling as he walks away?

This is Bucky. This is Bucky fucking Barnes. The real Bucky Barnes, who was buried so long ago. The flirty, charming, go-getting ladies man. 

And who was it that unburied him? Who was it that made him appear after all that time of just being a cold, hard shell? Sarah fucking Wilson, that’s who. She brought the old - the real - Bucky Barnes back with one look. 

Like, if you read his expressions, his mannerisms, the way his entire attitude shifts when she appears - you just know that man’s heart is doing fucking sommersaults in his chest.

If any of you think that I’m reading way too much into this, you’re wrong. Anyone who disagrees with me about any of this is wrong. I will not be taking any constructive criticism at this time, nor will I ever, because Bucky and Sarah are soulmates and you can’t change my mind. Thank you and goodnight. 

#tfatws spoilers #the falcon and the winter soldier spoilers #bucky barnes #sarah wilson #bucky x sarah #bucky barnes x sarah wilson #sam wilson #bucky and sarah #bucky barnes and sarah wilson

[thehollowprince]

Queerbaiting vs. Fan Service

For whatever reason, I decided to take a stroll through The Falcon and The Winter Soldier tags after the second episode, and I was slightly distressed (and mostly annoyed) with how many people were labeling the interactions between Sam and Bucky as queerbaiting. You can imagine my confusion.

Now, as a gay man, nothing would please me more to see a relationship between two men in a big budget action franchise, even if it is just the MCU. Ignoring the reality that this is Disney and that they'll probably never have a gay or bisexual main character in anything, The Falcon and The Winter Soldier is not the place to draw that line in the sand.

I've been on this app for about eight years now, and I can't tell you the number of times I've seen people make and reblog posts about the desire to see more men be friends with one another, to not fall victim to the toxic masculinity. How many times have you opened opened this app and seen posts about "let men cry" or "let men be intimate with each other without making it weird"? And yet, every time, almost as if on a timer, the moment two guys (either in a show or actual people) look at each other for longer than .05 seconds, a ship is born.

Now, there's nothing inherently wrong with shipping. Especially when you factor in the fact that same sex romances are severely lacking in modern media. I myself am attracted to the idea of SamBucky, because they have foundation there that if the producers decided, could be used to build a relationship off of. I did the same with Steve and Bucky in the MCU. Like I said, there's nothing wrong with shipping, but some people take it too far. In this instance, I've been seeing too many people claim "queerbaiting" because Sam rescued Bucky from falling to his death under a moving truck or because of the therapy scene where they had to face each other and get real close.

That is not queerbaiting.

For starters, it's been two episodes. The show isn't even halfway over. Not that I expect Disney to actually do something like that, but it's precisely this need to jump the gun and declare something that makes the problem worse within the fandom. And more to the point, I'm not entirely sure many of you know what the term queerbaiting actually means.

Queerbaiting is when a show or movie or whatever, sets up a relationship between two people of the same sex, has everything point in the direction of them becoming a romantic pairing, only to, at the last second, have one or both of them enter into a heterosexual relationship or be killed off.

A great example of this, and the first that pops into my mind, is The Magicians, specifically Queliot. Now, anyone who followed me, especially when the show as airing, knows I'm not the biggest fan of that ship, but in the fourth season of the show, they spent a great deal of time setting up Quentin and Eliot finding their way to each other, only for the production to kill off Quentin in the finale of the season. One could even argue that having Quentin chose Alice for a reconciliatory relationship after they did everything to set up Quentin and Eliot is another form of queerbaiting, eschewing the same-sex romance in favor of a heterosexual one.

Now, circling back to The Falcon and The Winter Soldier, what we have here is not a case of queerbaiting. Production of the show, and the MCU in general, more than likely scour Twitter and Instagram and whatever else and see the fandom reaction to certain ships/pairings, and specifically make scenes or scenarios where those two characters have to interact. That is called fan service, an entirely different animal.

A great example of fan service would be Teen Wolf. As anyone who has been following me knows, I've been talking about this topic a lot recently, thanks to one particularly persistent anon. If you've ever interacted with the Teen Wolf fandom, you know that the big ship that dominated it was Sterek, despite it being something that wasn't based at all in canon. Jeff Davis, after seeing how fans reacted to the few interactions of Derek and Stiles in season one, gave the fandom a more in season two, such as the pool scene, or when they were both paralyzed by Kanima venom in the sheriff's station, the dream sequence at the end of season three, or the ride to Mexico in season four. Hell, even the comedic sequence in the final season of Stiles "rescuing" Derek from the FBI to make it back to Beacon Hills for the final showdown was fan service. What it wasn't, was queerbaiting, because Sterek wasn't something that the show set up. It was something that the fandom set up, which more power to them, but with that being established, people still got mad because the show didn't go the way they (the fandom) decided it should have gone.

This same thing happened with Stucky. The idea of Bucky and Steve was appealing. If either one of them had been a woman in the MCU then their relationship would have very easily been interpreted in canon as romantic, but as it stands, that's not the case. They were just two very close friends.

Brining it back to my original point, we have Sambucky, and no matter how much fandom kicks and screams and demands, it won't happen in the show. It's alright to ship them, because I do see the appeal, but at the end of the day, too many people are getting upset about something that fandom made up and that canon doesn't deliver on, despite the two being unaffiliated. You want to ship Sam and Bucky, I fully support you in that endeavor. I myself like the idea of it, and often tag posts as such, but calling it queerbaiting in an attempt to shame people for not supporting it is misleading.

Bottom line: queerbaiting is a very specific thing and there are actual shows out there that are perpetrators of it. Please try and actually understand what queerbaiting is before you simply throw the term out at every inconvenience.

#queerbaiting #fan service #sambucky #tfatws #the falcon and the winter soldier

[stsebastiens]

TFATWS vs its comic equivalent

or: the comic did almost everything the show tried to do, but better

First major difference between this comic and the show: Bucky and Sam’s conflict of principle/ideology. Instead of a vague “why did you give away the shield” gripe that’s resolved only when the plot demands, we actually get a lot more of their personal disagreements. In their first interaction with each other at a fresh crime scene, Sam assumes that Bucky had something to do with the incident. 

this alone is a damn good explanation of why they don’t get along: sam is suspicious of bucky in particular, and bucky is cynical in general. Basically how their MCU characters were set up circa Captain America: Civil War. Later on, we see that sam tends towards a more rehabilitative form of justice, whereas bucky often takes the road of “some people just need to die”. 

this remains a common thread of conflict throughout the entire comic run, even giving the audience some humorous moments:

(this is literally one of my favorite characterizations of bucky, ever.) There’s eventually a culminating moment where it’s revealed that Bucky’s perception of himself––”once a killer, always a killer”––plays into his view of justice. He has nothing to lose by killing people because, in his eyes, he’s already past redemption.

and onto my next point: Bucky’s governmental pardon. In the show, he has government-mandated therapy. This has been picked apart for multiple reasons, from the therapist being a poor portayal to the fact that his therapy sessions are discarded in favor of simply going out there and beating the shit out of people. The show tells us that bucky doesn’t need therapy, he just needs to kick ass. This is harmful for many reasons (here’s a good podcast on the subject), but also reveals a shallow understanding of Bucky’s character and his potential for recovery. in the comic, the government plays a much more insidious role: Bucky’s pardon rests on his involvement in government-sanctioned hits. He basically plays super-soldier like he always has, but for the ‘good guys’. 

I’m gonna state the obvious and say that this is a much more interesting point of conflict for Bucky. It also removes the possibility of all this “the US Government is always good actually” propaganda that we got in the show.

next up: the Captain-America-gone-bad archetype. instead of john walker, who not only experiences no consequences for literally murdering someone in the street but also gets a fun little redemption arc for plot purposes, we have The Natural: a young 20-something who is obsessed with everything captain america, including bucky and sam. he’s insanely ‘gifted’ (i.e. efficient at killing people) and wants to be as great as captain america was. the twist is that he’s a HYDRA mentee who’s convinced that these new people he hangs out with are super cool and gonna change the world for the better. Bucky and Sam spend almost the entire comic run trying to dissuade him of these notions, explaining what Captain America actually stands for. 

The Natural––an overconfident, entitled white kid who thinks HYDRA is cool cause they “watch all the same youtubers he does”––easily opens up the same avenues for discussion that TFATWS tried to have with John Walker and Isaiah Bradley, except instead of having the characters talk about it, the Natural shows the audience what happens when Captain America is made synonymous with American nationalism (and white supremacy). This kid is a die-hard, long-time fan of captain america, not some random dude that got his ego stroked. His entire identity rides on a misunderstanding of who Steve was and what he stood for. Bucky and Sam not only have to fight a villain, but they are also confronted by the tainted legacy of their best friend. 

(Also, The Natural is just a fun antagonist. He’s obnoxious, chatty, and kicks Bucky and Sam’s asses multiple times––much to their mutual chagrin.)

Anyways, those are my thoughts after re-reading this comic run in like 30 minutes. I’ve probably left some stuff out, but I highly recommend reading the whole thing. It’s a lot of fun and there’s a lot more comedic moments between Bucky and Sam than I included here. Plus the last issue ends with Bucky going to group therapy and bringing his cat, I feel like that makes my point all on its own lol.

#tfatws #marvel comics #bucky barnes #sam wilson #winter soldier #long-ass post but i love my comic book men ok !!! #ely.txt

[bottoms-movie]

SAMBUCKY FIC RECS PT. 2

The first part did really really so I decided to make a second part of sambucky fic recs. Just as the last one: the fics are split into three categories: based on tfatws, canon divergence, and au. CHECK OUT PART ONE HERE All fics are completed and all are on AO3. 

BASED ON TFATWS

The Truths Beneath Our Ribs | Mature | 6,742 words

5 times Bucky wears Sam's things +1 time Sam wears something of Bucky's

anything you can do, i’ll do you better | Explicit | 5,526 words

Steve is going to kill them if they don't learn to get along, but did they have to take it so far?

making amends | Explicit | 8,645 words

“Not Cap yet,” Sam said. He looked a little ruefully at his hands, which were covered in nicks and cuts. He could already feel his palms bruising from that last shield catch, but at least nothing was broken this time.

“I respect that,” Bucky said slowly. Sam raised an eyebrow, but didn’t respond. Bucky flexed and unflexed the vibranium fingers of his left hand, a nervous habit that Sam had clocked ages ago. “And you’re right.”

“Thanks, I know.” Sam waited a beat. “About what?”

Muscle Memory | 3 parts | Explicit | 13,156 words part 1: Muscle Memory | Teen | 1,766 words

Barnes sighs, and it’s a deep, soul-weary thing. “Maybe no one ever told you this, but I’m telling you right now. You don’t have any obligation to care about me because Steve did. You don’t have to pretend.”

Sam blinks, taken aback. He has to think, really think, about what he says next, because it’s - it’s either going to build or break something.

You’re My World | Explicit | 6,585 words

“I… oh, I get it now.” Sam tilted his head, perceptive as ever, goddammit. “All this flirting with my sister, that was just to get my attention, wasn’t it? I know it was. Say it.”

“That wasn’t—” Bucky croaked, but Sam wasn’t having it.

He huffed a low laugh, and bulldozed right through Bucky’s feeble pretense. “You like it when I pin you against the wall? Take away all that power you have, that strength that your arm gives you? Make you feel small, maybe?”

Call Me By Your (Pet) Name | Teen | 6,928 words

“You got a list of the nicknames available to us lesser mortals?” Sam continued, staring straight ahead at the seat in front of him. “The ‘you’re not Steve Rogers, so don’t even think about it’ collection?”

“Yeah, sure, there’s a list,” Bucky replied, pausing long enough to draw a pointed look from Sam. “Bucky,” he finished, gesturing broadly with his arm to convey the obviousness of the answer.

5 times Sam and Bucky used pet names as a joke + 1 time they used them in earnest

That’s not very gunkle of you | 2 parts | 4,325 words part 1: Bestie Vibes Only | Teen | 1,822 words

“What’s buzzin’ cousin?” Says Bucky, sitting down next to Sam on the docks.

That’s the moment that Sam realizes he needs to change tactics, no more subtly looking up definitions for his weird old person slang, it’s time to fight fire with fire.

“Not much bro, this view is highkey just hitting different TBH” he says, casually looking out at the water.

There’s a beat of silence and then,

“That’s swell doll, I just ate some four-o cackle jelly with side arms, and I’m looking for some kicks, you dig?

Oh, this means war.

misunderstandings | Not Rated | 3,167 words

Sam thinks Sarah and Bucky had a date, and he's Not Okay

you walked into my life to offer me a better view | Teen | 2,534 words

He was standing twenty feet away at the edge of the docks, chatting with Sarah, and Sam couldn't take his eyes away. Bucky's smile was warm, wide, and when he tipped his head back and laughed, his nose scrunching up and eyes crinkling at the corners, Sam could feel it vibrate straight to his heart.

falling, falling, flying | Teen | 2,778 words

Bucky had kissed him.

And Sam had pulled away, because that beautiful golden sunset made Bucky’s hair gleam with the faintest touch of blond, that rare summer breeze hissed like a dying missile past Sam’s ears, the kiss was so familiar, too familiar, and Sam was falling, falling—

(“Let yourself be happy, Sam. Please.”)

lonely boy, you are my world (and i could be anything you need) | Teen | 5,747 words

It all starts with Sam, a shelter, and this sweet kitten that reminded him far too much of a certain century-old, grouchy super soldier.

too dangerous to fall | Explicit | 3,466 words

Bucky Barnes is a one-armed menace. He has murder eyes and no care for basic safety protocols. His jokes are terrible and his bad moods are worse. He’s a godawful roommate who leaves his wet towels on the floor and his combat knives in the linen cabinet. Sam can’t stand the sight of him.

What happens in Louisiana | General | 3,478 words

But just then, in the engine room of the Wilson family boat, away from prying eyes, it felt like something they both needed. The closeness. The warmth.

Steve would laugh at them. Two grown men not being able to get it together. He would roll his eyes at Buck, nudge him with his elbow and tell him “you’re sweet on Sam Wilson so make a move already, punk.”

keep the ashes from my heart (and walk away) | Explicit | 4,412 words

“Jamie asked me out on a date,” Sam says. Bucky swallows. “Took him long enough,” he says, keeping his tone light. He bumps their shoulders together for good measure. “You should go for it.” “You really think so?” Sam asks, looking at him. “Yeah, man,” Bucky says. He fixes his gaze on Torres, high up in the sky, sunlight glinting off his wings. It hurts Bucky’s eyes. He blinks, rapidly. “You should be with somebody who can make you happy.”

(In which Sam starts dating someone who is not Bucky, and Bucky pines, gets seriously injured, and proves himself wrong.)

Hey Samuel | Teen | 3,223 words

"Bucky."

"Yeah?" He looked up eyes wide. Did he say something out loud?

"We're walking the wrong way."

"Oh." Right. Um. "Let's get ice cream."

"I don't know about you, man, but if I eat ice cream in this weather I will get sick."

Bucky was at a loss for words. What now?

OR Ride along Bucky's journey of figuring out when exactly did he fall for Sam Wilson.

Anyday, everyday | General | 6,735 words

He moved his head and locked eyes with Sam. "D'you- can you.. help me cut my hair?" He asked. He forced himself to look away, feeling embarrassed for asking him to come all this way just to give him a haircut.

His stomach dropped when he felt Sam let go of his hand to stand up. Of course he was about to leave. Who wouldn't want to leave Bucky?

"C'mon, Buck. Let me cut your hair." Bucky's eyes snapped up to Sam's. He had a small smile on his face and his hand was reaching out, waiting for Bucky to take it.

Or; the five times Bucky fell more and more in love with Sam, and the one time he finally got the guts to tell him.

If You’ll Have Me | Teen | 4,779 words

Sam casually shrugged, although there was an intent look in his eyes, "Yeah, well it's getting late and I didn't feel like flying anymore so I was wondering if your old man self is okay with-"

"You can stay here." Bucky quickly finished for him.

I like Bucky, Sam I am | Not Rated | 2,653 words

"I would kiss you on the boat. Or in Wakanda by your goats."

Static in the Dark | Teen | 4,989 words

So prompt idea, some bad guy follows Bucky to the docks for revenge (over whatever you can decide) and Sarah gets to see how protective Bucky really is over Sam when he gets in the line of fire

CANON DIVERGENCE

A Different Kind of Problem | Explicit | 7,616 words

“Do you know what it feels like to be insatiable?”

Two months ago, an interrogation gone wrong left Sam with Bucky’s explicit words seared into his brain and body.

Now, Bucky is living in the Avengers Compound, making pancakes and wearing Steve’s huge sweatshirts, fluffy haired and a little shy, seemingly completely content to be on house arrest — and Sam has never been more confused. Whatever Steve thinks, Sam doesn’t have a problem with Bucky. This domesticity is just so at odds with the feral sexuality Bucky had used to rattle Sam during his interrogation. Where did that side of Bucky go? And why can’t Sam stop thinking about finding it? Maybe Sam does have a problem with Bucky… it’s just not the problem Steve thinks it is.

Bucky’s Choice | Not Rated | 4,753 words

When Bucky enters Westview to try to help Wanda Maximoff, he is confronted with something he never expected- Steve Rogers, back from the dead and ready to start a life with Bucky in Westview. It's everything that Bucky ever wanted, everything that Steve abandoned when he went back in time to live his life with Peggy Carter. But Bucky and Sam have been involved for months, and Sam is waiting for Bucky outside of the Hex. Bucky has to make a choice- the life he always wanted with Steve, or a new start with Sam?

tonight i’ll need you to stay | General | 2,227 words

For once, Bucky wants to stop leaving when things are finally looking up. And he wants people to stay with him, too.

(or, 3 times bucky needed an excuse to stay with sam, and the one time he didn't)

How to Win a Supersoldier in Ten Days | Explicit | 14,901 words

When they realize that all the Winter Soldier's interactions with Sam are just him trying to Awkward MurderBot Flirt (TM) with the sexy man, Steve, Tony, and Nat convince Sam to play the honeypot and bring Bucky in.

Sam's pretty sure the honeypot isn't supposed to fall in love with the target, but what can you do?

at the end of the war (what’s mine is yours) | Mature | 4,290 words

They don't talk about it: that's how it works.

warm blood (feels good, i can’t control it anymore) | Explicit | 4,492 words

Sam's just chilling watching TV one evening when Bucky comes in and stares at him silently for a minute or two before sitting down on the couch. He's pretty close to Sam.

Okay, he's really close to Sam. Like, Sam would be using the word 'cuddling' if it wasn't so bizarre.

"What," he says, carefully not looking at Bucky, and Bucky huffs a sigh.

"Steve's not here," he says as if it's obvious. "Don't make it weird. Just- shut up."

Caught With Their Pants Down | Explicit | 3,539 words

“Sam, this guy is not coming, the intel was false,” Bucky replied. “I get this whole ticking boxes and what not, but Rogers got it wrong, and for the love of God I need a fucking toilet.”

“You need to learn to plan your water intake better, is what you need. You’re a damn fool and I don’t know why I put up with you.”

“Because you love me,” Bucky replied, and Sam could hear the smile in his voice.

“In your damn dreams, Barnes.”

They’d been fucking for about six months, but Sam didn’t want Bucky to go getting a big head about it.

AU

sharp teeth, soft heart | 3 parts | 17,866 words part 1: you touch me within and so i (know i could be human once again) | Explicit | 12,444 words 

It’s inevitable, the way it goes. He’s my friend, Steve says, and he is, he is, he must be. Sam’s best friend is Steve, and Steve’s best friend is a werewolf, that’s just how Sam’s life works now.

But once he realizes he’s attracted to Bucky and Bucky can tell, everything becomes, like, a thousand percent more difficult to negotiate. Sam’s just trying to live his life, that’s all, and he keeps getting confronted by Bucky Barnes in a soft flannel shirt, sleeves rolled up, hair all soft and shiny. Bucky glances over at him and smirks, and this is really very embarrassing, how Sam can’t hide his attraction even if he keeps a totally straight face.

I’m so into you I can barely breathe | Explicit | 6,515 words

Sam Wilson had a long day dealing with morons, so he decided to finally go to the famous club in town. There he meets someone who just might get him back in a good mood. And then some.

twelve ounce steak (boxers in briefs) | Explicit | 3,753 words

Sam has pretty lips. Bucky seems to think so, too.

caught it bad (i’ll be on the way) | Mature | 4,830 words

Sam constantly gets roped into doing dumb things with Steve, but this time, it works out perfectly for him.

meet me in the a.m. | Teen | 3,147 words

Steve accidently starts a fire and Bucky's tired. When unbelievably hot firefighter Sam saves the day, though, he can't really be that mad.

i wanna savour, save it for later | Not Rated | 6,419 words

"It's his damn ratings, man," Sam says. "It's weird 'cause when you read the reviews, he seems to like our food and all. Nothing but praise for days. And then you get to the rating, and it's always the same. Three goddamn stars."

Bucky tips his beer bottle from side to side, lips pursing slightly. "I see. And that's… a bad thing?"

"We are not a three-star joint," Sam says flatly.

Or, the one where food truck owner Sam gets caught up in his quest to unmask an anonymous food blogger. Falling for one of his regulars was never on the menu.

we were a fire with no smoke | Explicit | 15,295 words

Sam can’t help but roll his eyes. Take the boys out of New York but they’re still Brooklyn Catholics, that’s clear enough. Bucky catches the gesture, smirks hard enough Sam can see his eye teeth. It should be dangerous but he’s beautiful, pale and charming and recklessly easy.

“You wanna come in?” Sam asks, ignoring the noise Steve makes, and Bucky’s smile gets wider.

“Yeah,” he says. Steps up close to Sam. “I do.”

my house of stone, your ivy grows | Teen | 9,042 words

When Sam Wilson inherits the manor of the old man he once took care of, it feels like his luck is finally looking up. It's an opportunity for a fresh start, something he's in desperate need of. When he arrives, however, it becomes clear that an easy transition into estate living is not exactly a possibility. The house is run-down, nothing like Sam remembers it, and the groundskeeper — who Sam apparently has to share the house with, wants nothing to do with him.

You Smiled Because You Knew | Teen | 3,754 words

"You've got the wrong address," the man who'd answered growled. He had long, scraggly hair that had mostly escaped his attempts to pull it away from his face. He had nice eyes, and wouldn't have been unattractive, especially with a shave, except for the scowl. "Nobody here wants or needs your . . . services."

It was apparent by the tone the man did not appreciate Sam's hard work.

Well, that was tough shit.

#marvel #sam wilson #bucky barnes #sambucky #tfatws #sambucky fanfiction #sambucky fic rec #fic recs #usermarcy #usersof #usersmile #usersamanne #sambucky fanfic #tusersammy #tusernini #my fic recs

[margarethx]

The Sambucky fandom spends a lot of time and energy on calling out writers for using problematic, often straight up racist, tropes in their fics. And rightfully so, because some of said tropes are not only unplesant to read for many readers, but also harmful if they help to perpetuate some awful stereotypes. That being said... I feel like we need to show the other side of the spectrum more often and sometimes focus on people who don’t make these mistakes.

----- ------- -----

So here is my personal THANK YOU! to all the writers who have never used these offensive stereotypes in their Sambucky fanfiction and who:

1. Give as much attention to Sam’s side of the story as they give to Bucky’s and do not focus solely on Bucky’s emotions about their developing relationship when it’s a mixed POV.

2. Acknowledge Sam’s trauma and all the loss he experienced in the past (not only in the context where his pain is used to help him better connect with another person who’s hurting).

3. Show other characters (Bucky or not) helping Sam go through his more diffucult moments (bad days, nightmares, painful flashbacks).

4. Show Sam having these more difficult moments.

5. Don’t act like Bucky’s traumatic past is enough of an excuse for his unpleasant behaviour towards Sam. (E.g. they don’t write a story where Sam forgives Bucky every mean, ignorant comment without thinking, just because Bucky’s sad.)

6. Show Sam experiencing variety of emotions - not just frustration and adoration towards Bucky. Show him being sad, happy, disappointed, confused, hopeful, dejected, relieved, terrified, confident etc.

7. Show Sam being the more vulnerable one in the relationship (in general or just in cerain situations)

8. Write scenes where Sam is shy or a little awkward (about his relationship with Bucky or about something else). Also write him being insecure sometimes.

9. Write just as much about Sam’s appearance as they do about Bucky’s. (Both as a narrator and through a character’s compliments or thoughts.)

10. Mention how beautiful Sam’s eyes are... especially if there is more than one line about them. (Plus mention their colour like... at all.)

11. Describe Sam’s appearance focusing on something outside of his smile or muscles. (Not that these are not nice, but there are other things to compliment and they’re hardly ever pointed out.) (Very much including hair or skincolour.)

12. Write Sam making mistakes, but not in a way that insinuates that he’s stupid or incompetent, but in a way that shows he’s a normal person who can sometimes be wrong and own up to it. (Unless he’s the only person in the story who always messes up...)

13. Show Sam being very competent. And show Bucky appreciating Sam’s competence, skills, and knowledge in various fields. (Also write Sam being a badass.)

14. Write about Sam’s background in pararescue, his medical training, skills in combat, flexibility, speed, ability to fly, ability to fix his advanced equipment, strenght, the fact that he’s pretty stealthy etc...

15. Write about the importance of Sam’s relationship with Steve even when Steve’s past connection to Bucky is not relevant to the story at any point.

16. Write Bucky being openly grateful for all the things that Sam did for him and write Bucky helping Sam back even when Sam didn’t specifically ask, because they genuinely care about each other.

17. Write about Sam’s past as a therapist not in the context of him helping Bucky get better, but because it’s relevant to the story and it’s something he has a lot of experience with. Or simply because it’s a significant part of his previous life journey.

18. Show Sam being frustrated or angry without falling into bad stereotypes. And show why his anger was justified and he had the right to react like that, because he doesn’t have to be polite and dyplomatic about everything if other people (Bucky very much included) don’t act respectful towards him in the first place.

19. Acknowledge that Sam is AJ and Cass’s actual uncle. The kids might like Bucky, but they’ve known and loved Sam for way longer... and I rarely see that mentioned.

20. Write about Sam’s past romantic relationships without focusing only on Bucky being jealous about them.

21. Show Sam’s interactions with other characters - not just in a romantic context, but also in terms of friendships (MCU Natasha was closer to Sam than Bucky and fics rarely talk about that), professional cooperation, rivalry and so on.

22. Mention the social commentary brought up in tfatws without brushing it to the side or downplaying the importance of Sam’s race in the formation of his character and storyline.

23. Acknowledge that Sam is human and his body is not enhanced in any way... without making it sound like he’s too weak to do the job.

24. But also... write about Bucky using his super strenght to carry Sam around and to pick him up all the time (for whatever reason), because it’s cute. Sue me.

25. Point out that Sam is slightly shorter than Bucky without always making Sam weirdly insecure about it.

26. Write Sam as Bucky’s first choice... not a second option he picked for the lack of a better candidate for a boyfriend.

27. Understand that Sam has a life outside of Bucky even if their friendship and romantic relationship are obviously very important for him.

28. Write Bucky touching Sam in reassuring, delicate ways. (Holding his hands,  cupping his face, touching his hair, kissing the tip of his nose.)

29. Let Sam make harmless jokes, be charming, and be actually a nice person even when he’s not actively helping anyone. Just let him have a complex, but pleasant personality.

30. Let him be sarcastic without making him mean.

31. Add Figaro (Sam’s cat) to the stories about pets. Or show Sam’s emotional attachment to Redwing, even when it’s still a drone, not a bird.

32. Don’t forget that Riley died. And Sam’s parents died. And his close friends died. And other close friend left him without saying goodbye... etc. (Also don’t forget he himself died at one point...)

33. Mention and discuss Sam’s sexuality and romantic orientation (both in the tags to the story and in the actual text). ...I feel like it’s often unspecified for no reason while Bucky’s identity is clear from the start.

34. Give Sam little hobbys and interests that are unrelated to his work or his ability to make other people’s lives better.

35. Write about Sam’s fears and doubts while not forgetting he’s generally a very brave, mostly confident person.

36. Make the audience feel like Sam is a necessary part of the story. Not just a character added hastily at the end of writing just so the author can tag his name, because the ship he’s a part of is currently more popular than before and showind him at last minute will attract some readers to click.

and... 37. Do the things mentioned above in all of their Sambucky stories and use more than one of these ideas at a time.

----- ------- -----

To people who wrote stories with these tropes... You guys are doing a great job and I appreaciate your work a lot. It’s easy to focus on complaining, because the Sam/Bucky tag on Ao3 was always kind of a mess, but my day genuinely gets better every time I find one of your stories. So thank you again and keep it up :>

(Side note: if you have any recommendations for fics that use the ideas I wrote in this post feel free to link them in the comments. Because the bar is hanging pretty low at this point and some authors still wouldn’t be able to cross a single point from my list if they examined their - allegendly - “Sambucky” stories... so we should promote the content that is actually good.)

#sam wilson #samuel thomas wilson #bucky barnes #james bucky barnes #captain america #captain america sam wilson #the falcon #white wolf #winter soldier #sambucky #sam x bucky #winterfalcon #tfatws #the falcon and the winter soldier #mcu #marvel

[wienerbarnes]

A Certain Romance (6/6)

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 1,609

Warnings: happy ending😁

A/N: another series in the books... hope yall enjoyed it as much as i did<3 thank u to everyone who liked/reblogged/left comments/read in general!

MAIN MASTERLIST | A CERTAIN ROMANCE MASTERLIST

Seven months go by before he sees you again.

A month after that double date, Sam asked about you, about what the two of you have been up to. He realized then that you hadn’t told Sam anything about the fight. You hadn’t said anything. You hadn’t said you’d “broken up” or even just came clean and explained the whole thing. You went on pretending the two of you were dating; did you do it to keep Sam off your back? Did you do it because you thought that’s what he would’ve wanted? He didn’t care about any of that, all he cared about was you. 

He told Sam himself about a month after that. He told Sam everything, about making the deal with you, how you were both feeling about the dating situation. He told Sam about the nights at your apartment, the meals shared, the stories told. He explained the fight that happened the night of the double date and how he’s still trying to get over his feelings.

Sam hasn’t set him up on another blind date, and he assumes he hasn’t set you up on one, either.

Five months after that conversation, he thinks he’s getting better. He thinks about you everyday; how you’re doing, what you’re doing, if you think of him. The only difference between now and seven months ago is that he doesn’t feel the same pain in his chest when he thinks about you.

For a long while it made him so sad, the thought of not being able to talk to you, not being able to see you, not being able to drop by your apartment and share dinner with you. But as much as it pained him, it was what you wanted. You wanted time and you wanted space, so that’s what he gave you.

He misses you, though.

He finds himself in your neighborhood as he approaches the coffee shop he’s been frequenting since he met you. You had gotten him coffee from there once and had him hooked. Perhaps he goes there because the coffee really is that good or because it was you that had showed him the place in the first place. He doesn't think about it.

He walks in and stands in the small line at the counter, not quite taking the time to observe the place and see every single person there as he normally would.

After ordering his regular coffee and placing the change from the ten dollar bill he gave the barista into the tip jar, he stands off to the side to wait for his name and order to be called.

And all it takes is a look to his left to see you sitting there, already staring at him with a surprised expression, for all his progress to disappear.

You look so beautiful.

He stares at you for a second, mouth slightly open before his tongue pokes out to lick at his now dry lips. He clears his throat and stands up a bit straighter to compose himself, or at least make it seem like he’s done so.

“Hi.” He says, a tad awkwardly, but in his defense, he wasn’t expecting seeing you here. He’s come to this same coffee shop in your neighborhood at least once a week for months now, and has never run into you here, even when you were on speaking terms. Of course he’d see you today; he should’ve worn a different shirt.

Your mouth opens to respond with a greeting when Iced black coffee for Bucky interrupts you. His head snaps towards the counter to retrieve the drink before walking slowly back over to where you sit at the counter against the wall.

“Hi.” He repeats again, the only word he seems to be able to say right now.

“Do you want to go for a walk?” You ask him, voice gentle and light, just as he remembers it always used to be. He’s glad that you’re not upset at the scenario of running into him, instead welcoming the interaction; a much better play of this happening than what he was thinking in his head.

He wasn’t sure how the first interaction after not seeing each other would be like, or if there’d be one at all; if he’d ever even see you again.

He was hoping for the movie reunion, spotting each other from a long distance and running into each other’s arms in slow motion, an 80′s love song playing in the background. He feared it’d take an opposite direction, you spot him from afar and walk up to him only to slap him across the face and spit on his shoes. He’d have nightmares about that last scenario.

Neither of you say anything for the first couple of minutes of your walk.

“I’m sorry for how I treated you that night.” You finally speak.

“You have nothing to apologize for -”

“No, Bucky, I do. I should’ve spoken to you about everything, even if we got angry, even if we yelled, but instead I ran away, and I’m sorry.” You tell him.

A moment to take in your words, “Well, apology accepted.” He forgives.

Another minute of silence. He’s not sure how to proceed. While an apology was given, nothing’s actually been resolved. There’s still tension, still wondering of what you’ve been up to all this time, still his own feelings for you that he realizes now after seeing you again for the first time in seven months have not dissipated at all and are very much real in his heart.

He sees in his periphery that you’ve stopped walking on the nearly empty sidewalk and he stops, too, turning around to look at you, a worried expression on your face.

“The truth is I was scared.” You say.

“Of me?”

“Of my feelings.” You clarify.

You inch a bit closer to him, “I was growing feelings for you, and that scared me.”

All he can do is stare as you open your mouth to continue.

“I told myself that I wouldn’t put myself in a position to be too vulnerable. I wouldn’t open myself up as much to people, I wouldn’t get into any more relationships, I wouldn’t do any of that because the last time I did, it fucked me up. And I know you’re nothing like him, but it still scares me shitless. It scares me that you waltzed into my life and made me feel this way in such a short amount of time. It scares me that you made me want to forget all those promises I made to myself. It scares me that you made me want all of that; that you made me want you.” You explain.

He takes a step closer to you so that you’re face to face and you can smell his cologne.

“I want you, too.” He whispers, unable to find the words to say anything else.

You look up at him, “It’s going to take a lot of time, and - and a lot of patience -”

“I’ll do it, I’ll do it all for you,” He promises, the hand that’s not holding his coffee reaching up to cup your face, your free hand laying on top.

He slowly leans in, wanting to kiss you; he’s been wanting to kiss you for seven months. He feels your breath on his lips as you speak again, “Please take care of me.” You tell him. It’s not a question, but a plea.

“I promise.” He whispers back, finally touching his lips to yours, and putting every emotion in it.

A single press of your lips to express how much he missed you, how much he’s thought about you, how much you’ve thought about him. How many times each of you came close to calling the other, unaware of the hope waiting for them to reach out. How many times he dreamed about you, dreamed about taking you out, about kissing you and touching you, about talking to you and wanting you to talk back, if only to listen to the vibrations of your voice in his ears.

Oh, how he missed you.

An afternoon he was planning to spend filling up his time with pointless tasks as a distraction is instead spent holding you in the bed in the back room of his apartment. The soft sheets and plush mattress not all that bad when he has you in his arms to share it with. Embarrassing confessions of how much he’s thought about you, including his breakdown of smashing your plant, which he can now laugh about. Tears shed as more apologies are shared among both parties, love sprouting in the place of fear of a new relationship.

How lovely it is to have you. To have a person he can be authentic with, tears and anger and happiness and laughs included. To have a person who he can take away their troubles and insecurities knowing they will do the same. A feeling he never thought he’d feel; a feeling he always assumed was reserved for the version of James Barnes that never got drafted into the army, the version of James Barnes that survived the fall and went home, or the James Barnes that never fell at all. He never thought he’d find the puzzle piece for his heart, but here you are.

It was a certain romance for two people who never thought they were deserving of love, who thought it just wasn’t in their cards. Maybe in a past life, or a future one, but not this one, not in the lifetime they just happen to be present in at the exact same time.

Perhaps it was a certain romance, or perhaps it was fate, acting through Sam Wilson on that night in that pretentious restaurant.

Which reminds Bucky, he should call his friend and thank him.

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes series #bucky barnes au #marvel #so cute #sad its over

[buckyownsmylife]

Secret Door: the one where there’s a ball and some undisclosed feelings

President James Buchanan Barnes is the first president to occupy the White House without a first lady ever since… well, President James Buchanan Barnes. But he’s not too worried about it, since he got his best friend from college acting as his VP, supporting him just like only someone who knew everything about him could do. What happens when feelings from the past start to resurface?

Or the one where you and Bucky used to date but now you got a country to run.

for general warnings and author’s notes, please go to the fic’s masterlist.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

“Are you free?” I asked as I chanced a glance inside the oval room, only to find James looking down at nothing in particular with a defeated look on his face. My movement had him glancing up to meet my eyes though, and a beautiful smile brightened his expression at the realization that I was the one talking to him.

“For you? Always.” He excitedly waved me in, already leaping out of his chair. “Come here, darling. I need one of your hugs.” I opened a little smile of my own at his request, but more tentatively than I would have if I hadn’t seen just how tired he looked before he saw me.

I was worried about him. Even now, while I had his arms around my body, his beard tickling my neck, it didn’t seem like he was really here at all. And it felt like he thought the same if the way he squeezed me was any indication of just how hard he was trying to be more present in the moment we were currently still living in.

I tried to pull away, but his arms only tightened around my smaller body, and so I relented, letting him rely on me for as long as he needed to. It was the least I could do, not for the President of my nation, but for my best friend since college.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” I asked once he finally let me go, still keeping me close by holding my wrists delicately but with purpose. He seemed to consider my words, lips pursed in thought, that cute little frown that made me want to bury my thumb between his eyebrows appearing on his face, but ended up shaking his head.

“Not really. What I would like is for you to come have dinner with me tonight. Do you think you can make it?” Of course I could. No one in their right mind would pass up the opportunity for dinner with the President, if not for his title, at least for his personal chef, but it wasn’t my case.

I could never say no to him because his company was my absolute favorite. I’d always chosen him over anything, and he’d done the same for me. But tonight, I knew neither of us could retreat into any sort of personal encounter because we both had the same social gathering to attend.

“I’d love to, but the ball, remember?” I watched as realization struck over Bucky, and he slapped his own forehead and groaned, making me giggle. He really was such a manchild at times, even if only with me.

“Ugh, do we really have to go?” Rolling my eyes at his whining, I fixed his suit while I bit on the inside of my cheek, so I wouldn’t just relent and laugh. I knew he was only saying this for show, an immature effort to get on my nerves.

I really did know him too well.

“Yes, we do. We can have dinner tomorrow. I’ll ask your assistant to clear off your schedule, I don’t know of any major commitments you have to attend.” When I finished fixing his clothes, I noticed the lack of response, and so I looked up to find him staring down at me with the most lovesick expression in his eyes. I laughed, but only to try to soften the mood of the room, ignore the way it made my heartbeat pick up.

“You really are the perfect woman, have I ever told you that?”

“Only all the time.” I smiled, thinking back fondly on everything we’d shared that led us here. It was a hell of a ride, but it was definitely easier with him by my side.

“It’s because it’s the truth.” I nodded, accepting his words as I prepared to leave, but then a gentle hand on my elbow had me looking back. “What color is your dress for this evening?” The question made me curious, but it wasn’t entirely out of the ordinary. Bucky was always looking for ways to show me that he cared.

“Yellow.” He nodded, releasing me as a silent way to say that I could leave. I smiled back at him, nodding in return.

“I’ll see you tonight.”

Bucky’s P.O.V.

The sound of heels against marble in the nearly empty hallway alerted me of her arrival. Turning around, I found her wearing the most beautiful and elegant yellow dress, the exact shade I had chosen to wear as a tie for the evening.

“Oh, wow,” I commented, opening a smile after I was able to close my mouth. “You look wonderful, sweetheart.” She looked extremely suspicious of me, although a huge smile took over most of her face.

“I like your tie.” Chuckling, I subconsciously adjusted it before reaching out to take her hand, wanting to close the space between us as soon as possible. The feeling of her warm skin always made me feel comforted, even if I didn’t know that I needed any sort of comfort. 

She seemed to know it, though. She always did. It was why I knew my decision to ask her to become my vice-president was the right one to make, even though our previous history together would make our run a peculiar one, to say the least.

“Good, you were supposed to appreciate it.” She hummed in acknowledgment but didn’t give me any more shows of how it affected her, eyeing the knot I’d just secured before reaching out for it again. Maybe it should make me irritated, but I could only find it adorable, how she insisted on double checking my outfit when I was sure nothing was wrong with it.

“Sam helped you with it?” At the mention of my assistant, I looked up from her cute little face to see that he was standing right behind her, sporting a knowing smile on as he watched our interaction, just patiently waiting for us to decide to leave.

“You know it.” She smiled up at me then, and suddenly there was an unspoken conversation between us that I didn’t want to break. I wasn’t too sure if what she was trying to communicate was the same I wanted to hear, but a guy could hope.

All hope eventually ends up lost when there’s a presidential commitment to attend, though. I should have known it by now.

“We really should be going,” Sam’s voice interrupted us, and still I smiled. She returned it as well, knowing this was our life, this was what we did - at least for the next three years.

“Shall we?” I asked, offering my arm to her, who bowed teasingly before accepting it.

“We shall.”

Y/N’s P.O.V.

Time would pass and we would eventually step out of power and I still wouldn’t become accustomed to all of this. All of the press, the fake smiles, the insipid conversations. But it was a part of the job. And at least I had James by my side to help me deal with all of it. If there was one thing I admired about him, it was his ability to make every situation exciting.

“I don’t think I actually told you just how beautiful you look tonight,” a familiar voice murmured right by my ear, hands slotting themselves over my hips as one of mine clutched my chest in surprise. I guess I truly had been distracted, staring out at the beautiful garden from the balcony I managed to find so I could get a breath of fresh air.

“You really think so?” I asked, turning around to meet his eyes. He had a cheeky smile on his lips, the one that made him look younger than he was - the one I adored so much.

“Oh, yes. You’re also incredibly distracting. I couldn’t focus on a single conversation people tried to hold with me tonight. But you know what?” I hummed, tilting my head to signal him I wanted to hear what he was going to say. “I find myself enjoying this distraction.”

It was impossible not to giggle - he’d always been a charmer, and that was the reason why I fell so hard for him back in college. If there was a reason we worked well together, however, it was because I knew how to give him a hard time.

“I mean, I would too, if I was stuck in a conversation with Senator Johnsson. Although everything is distracting when you’re near that man.” He tried to control his laughter, he really did, but in the end, it broke free, floating in the air around us and coaxing my own to join his.

By the time he was finally able to breathe again, he was shaking his head, his eyes crinkling in the corners, in that familiar way that I knew meant he was thinking I was too much.

“Well, then. I think I’ve earned myself a small break from all that boredom. Mind if I join you out here?” It was my turn to shake my head with a small smile, stepping to the side to give him more space to breathe.

“Not even a little bit.” It was silent for a second as we stared out to the garden, just reveling in each other’s companies. Despite how frequently we saw each other, it wasn’t usually this quiet, or ever this peaceful. It felt good to just feel enchanted by his proximity again.

But I knew I couldn’t stay there too long, and if he wanted some time to relax, I should probably get back there and distract people so they wouldn’t come looking for him. That was my plan when I took a step back, almost turning around to open the door when I felt his hand clasping me.

Only it wasn’t over my shoulder or arm, which was probably his original goal. Somehow, in the effort to keep me still, he didn’t anticipate in which direction I’d turn, so he ended up with a hand curled around my breast.

“I-I’m sorry,” he was quick to apologize, immediately dropping his arm. “I didn’t intend to.” He looked so utterly embarrassed by the situation, it was almost heartwarming. I felt the overwhelming urge to console him, not even for a second feeling uncomfortable because of what had transpired.

Bucky’s P.O.V.

“James, it’s okay,” she comforted me, her hand over my shoulder. “I’ve felt your hands in far more intimate places, remember?”

How could I ever forget?

The door slammed behind us but we were too busy lost in each other’s lips to care. I almost tripped on a forgotten sneaker as I tried to guide us to the couch, unwilling to worry about one of my roommates walking in on us right then.

It’s not like it would be the first time.

Her hands reached around her own torso to get rid of her shirt and bra, and I was left with my mouth watering at the sight that really should be familiar by now. She still hypnotized me all the same.

“C’mon, James,” she whined, hands tugging on my hair to try to pry me away from her nipple. “No foreplay. I need you now.” I groaned, finally relenting and letting go of her breast to work on unbuckling my belt as my cock twitched at her words.

“Naughty little slut,” I sneered, wrapping her hair around my fist when she positioned herself on her knees for me, holding onto the armrest of the couch. “I’m gonna fill you so good.”

She gasped in satisfaction upon feeling my cock stretch her out, something that had my heart skipping a bit every time. “Only I can make you feel this good, huh?” I asked, pulling on her strands to make sure she’d listen to me, even despite how roughly I was pounding her.

“Tell me,” I ordered, all insecurities and nerves, a young man still in college, finally exploring all of his sexual desires with the woman of his dream. Thankfully, she always gave me just what I needed, not only physically, but emotionally too.

“Yes, yes, Bucky. Only you, baby. God, you fuck me so fucking good.” It always thrilled me to no end to hear her usual perfectly composed self say the nastiest shit when I had my cock inside of her. Only I got to have this side of her, only I knew all of her.

She felt like home, in more ways than one. Whenever I had her, it was the best, sloppiest sex ever, and even years after I’d last touched her, I could still remember it perfectly.

I don’t think I’d ever be able to forget.

“God, you are such a fucking tease,” present me jokingly chastised, burying my hands in my pockets so I wouldn’t reach out and touch her again. The need was always there though, and it was overwhelming each time.

“Too much?” She joked, biting her lower lip as if it wasn’t the sexiest fucking thing ever. It made me groan, more out of desire than frustration at her words, but she’d never know.

“Just short of enough. Maybe it’ll keep my hunger at bay for a little while longer.” I looked up at her from under my eyelashes, trying to gather how she felt about what I was implying, but other than seeing her eyes widen a little bit, she gave me nothing.

She really knew me all too well by now.

“Still,” I continued, trying not to let the situation become awkward. “It seems like you’re not wearing a bra…” I teased, eyebrows raised high as if I was judging her for it. “Care to explain yourself, madam vice president?”

When she threw her head back to laugh, it exposed more of her delicious neck, and I unconsciously licked my lips at the clear skin I saw there. It didn’t use to look that way when we were together. I was very much into marking her all over - immature, possessive, and extremely in love with the woman before me.

“With this dress?” She asked, looking down at herself and making me look down at her neckline automatically. God, she was incredible. “Of course not. Can’t wear panties either.”

And just as I groaned at the new information, she giggled, winking over her shoulder as she reached out for the door. “Why must you tease me like this?” I shouted over the music, but all I could hear in response was her delighted laugh, and honestly, that was more than enough.

#my fics #my series #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes #smut #politician au #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes reader #bucky barnes reader insert #bucky barnes reader inserts #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fanfiction

[dirtyhelen]

with you, a girl could get bolder (i just wanna be a little bit closer) - part one

PART ONE: can you feel it? (Series Masterlist) Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader Rating: Explicit (18+) Featuring: Smut; Angst; Sex Pollen/Aphrodisiacs; Dubious Consent; Loss of Virginity; First Time; Vaginal Sex; Cunnilingus; Creampie; Dirty Talk Words: 5484 Summary: For a single moment there is absolute silence as you and Bucky stare down at the broken glass and the silvery mist rising from it with shocking speed and volume. “Oh, fuck.” You and Bucky get hit with an extremely powerful aphrodisiac, resulting in some mind-blowing (but dubiously consensual) sex on a quinjet. And if sleeping with a coworker in a drug-fueled haze wasn’t bad enough, you’ve also had an unrequited crush on him for months. A/N: My first multi-chapter fic! My first attempt at something resembling a plot! There will be 3 parts, about 15k total. Titles are from Want You In My Room by Carly Rae Jepsen. Part 2 will be out next week!

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“Thanks, Steve,” you say as he sets your bag in one of the quinjet’s storage compartments. Ever the gentleman, he’d insisted on carrying your luggage for you, since he was headed the same way anyway. Just a few minutes ago the jet was bustling with technicians packing away carefully labelled silver briefcases, but now it’s just you, Steve, Bucky, and Bruce. Bucky is headed to Wakanda, summoned by Shuri with the promise of impressive new upgrades for his arm. The briefcases are samples of chemical solutions the Avengers recently confiscated from an enemy base. They’re also headed to Wakanda, to be examined in one of the country’s laboratories even Tony - begrudgingly – has to admit are more advanced than his own. Along the way, Bucky will be dropping you in Zurich to meet up with Pepper. She’s attending a fancy business retreat there and snagged you an invite under the guise of professional development and maintaining the relationship between Stark Industries and the Avengers. As though being married to Iron Man isn’t enough to cement that relationship. Really, she just hates being outnumbered by arrogant, misogynistic billionaires and wants the company. You’re certainly not complaining. A chance to eat ridiculously expensive food and shit talk gross old men in view of the Swiss Alps? Beats running around after the team, keeping track of a thousand conflicting schedules and chasing down late mission reports. You spend another minute or two idly chatting with Steve and Bruce as Bucky makes himself busy at the instrument panel. The jet can basically fly itself, but you suspect Bucky gets a bit of a thrill any time he gets to be in the cockpit, tech nerd that he is. “You sure you have everything?” Steve asks you with a teasing smirk. “It’s a whole two days, you know. Pretty sure that requires at least a dozen books.” “Oh, har-har,” you grumble. “God, you overpack one time and it turns into a whole thing!” “Didn’t you take like four pairs of shoes and two books for a day trip?” Bruce calls as he walks down the ramp, heading back to the lab, you’re sure. “It was three pairs and you can’t always rely on weather forecasts!” you shout after him. Steve jokingly rolls his eyes. “Of course. And the books?” “Two is a perfectly reasonable number of books to bring on a day trip,” you protest primly. “And if I recall correctly, you ended up borrowing one of those books on the way home, so you’re welcome.” “Fair enough,” Steve laughs, holding out his hands in mock concession and turning to say his goodbyes to Bucky, currently bent over the panel, confidently pressing buttons and flicking toggles. It gives you some comfort. You’re a bit of a nervous flier, but Bucky seems to know what he’s doing and the Avengers’ personal jet has to be a lot safer than any commercial plane you’ve ever been on anyway. Though it’s more than just the thought of crashing into the Atlantic ocean that has you on edge. Three hours. That’s approximately how long you’ll be confined with Bucky in a high-tech tin can. Three hours to sit in awkward silence, or worse, awkward conversation if your previous interactions are anything to go by. Chances are you’ll try to make small talk but somehow end up saying something stupid while Bucky just sort of looks at you like he’s wondering how you managed to get this job in the first place. It’s a reasonable question, to be fair, and one you’ve asked yourself at least once every day since you started. Not that you’re a notably skilled conversationalist in general, but around Bucky, you can barely manage to string two coherent sentences together. You can’t help it! You just like him so fucking much and you want him to like you even just a little, so you try to be cool and relaxed and chill. Like Natasha or Sam, the two people who, apart from Steve, he seems to actually be comfortable around. Unfortunately, you are neither cool nor relaxed and you definitely are not chill. No, you are a grab-bag of somewhat less attractive personality traits like excitable and dorky and perpetually-fucking-nervous, all wrapped up in sensible shoes and practical, un-sexy clothing. Basically the anti-Nat, or any person you can imagine Bucky being attracted to. So when you try to converse with him like a normal person you usually end up rambling on like an alien who watched one episode of Gilmore Girls and thought that was how humans really communicated with each other. Not exactly a turn on. Sadly, knowing you have absolutely no chance with him does nothing to stop your feelings. If anything it only makes them stronger somehow. No harm in letting yourself become totally obsessed with the guy since it’s not like you’ll ever tell him how you feel, therefore there’s no chance of rejection! Foolproof! Really though, you don’t know how you could have avoided falling for him anyway, even if you had tried. As a member of the team’s admin staff, you see them basically every day. Relaxing, training, doing press and charity events – everything but actually going on missions. After months of chatting during meetings, discussing schedules and events, and working in the same place they live, you’ve gotten to know them pretty well, you think. And despite Bucky’s taciturn demeanor, the White Wolf seems more like a puppy to you. Sure, his resting expression has a tendency to read as slightly murderous and he's undoubtedly deadly in the field, but there's another side to him too. Bucky is enthralled with all things technological. Whenever there’s a presentation on new tools for the team Bucky is there, bright-eyed and attentive, with thoughtful, clever questions on how it all works, and he’s not shy about making suggestions either. He shamelessly enjoys all things soft and cozy – fuzzy blankets, knit sweaters, his cat. Alpine was a stray Bucky found wandering the grounds of the compound. Now she wanders the residential wing instead, usually wherever Bucky is. He could be bitter and angry and cruel after everything he’s been through – and God knows he’d have every right – but he’s not. He has his bad days, of course. Days at a time where you hardly see him except for mandatory meetings or training, and then with dark shadows under his eyes and a heavy blankness that seems etched into his face. But most of the time it’s clear he wants to be part of the world. With his never-ending curiosity about all the things he missed, or never had the freedom to enjoy. With his dark, wry humor and the fond way he can’t help but look at Steve whenever he says something that must remind him of before the war. With the way he tries so goddamn hard to put some good back into the world, to make up for things that weren’t even his fault. You truly don’t understand how anyone could know him and not love him. You certainly never stood a chance. “See you, pal. Text me when you land.” Steve’s voice pulls you out of your thoughts and you realize you’ve been staring into nothing for longer than you realized. “Say hi to Pepper for me!” he calls to you as he leaves. And with that, it’s just you and Bucky. For the next three hours. +++ The awkward silence – apart from a quiet, “You ready?” from Bucky just before take-off – lasts all of ten minutes. That’s as long as you can go before the pressure to say something becomes irresistible. Being bad at talking to Bucky has never kept you from trying, unfortunately. “You excited to go back to Wakanda?” you ask. Bucky nods. “Yeah. It’ll be nice to see Shuri again.” He says it with a soft smile and you know he means it. He clearly has a deep affection and respect for her. “I bet. She seems ridiculously cool. Honestly, I wanna be her when I grow up,” you joke, then immediately cringe. I wanna be her when I grow up? Come on! Bucky laughs politely and the jet is once again silent. Bucky seems content to just sit with his thoughts, but the jet’s at cruising altitude now so you take the opportunity to get out of your seat and grab one of the only two books from your bag. Can’t say anything stupid if you’re too busy reading! Check and mate, Rogers. You’re elbow deep in toiletries and underwear, having decided blindly digging around would be preferable to actually taking the bag down and fully unzipping it, when you decide to try speaking again.   “So do you know what upgrades you’re getting? You know, for –” you gesture at your left arm, or try to, except you use the arm currently being eaten by your suitcase at the exact moment the jet hits a patch of turbulence, jostling you and your luggage. Bucky jumps up, darting over to steady you with a hand on your back. As a part of your mind becomes consumed with thoughts of, holy shit he’s touching me, you manage to wrench your arm out of your suitcase, sending it to knock against the silver briefcase next to it. The impact shifts the briefcase slightly. The next bump of the jet a moment later has it falling out of the storage unit entirely. The silver briefcases used by the Avengers to transport dangerous or delicate materials are very cleverly designed so that – properly clasped – they could be used as a football for an NFL game with no ill-effects. Which is how you know this case has very clearly not been properly clasped because as it falls it springs open, and a small vial of clear liquid hits the floor. And shatters. For a single moment there is absolute silence as you and Bucky stare down at the broken glass and the thin, silvery mist rising from it with shocking speed and volume, filling the space around your bodies. “Oh, fuck,” you breathe. Bucky snaps into action, grabbing you by the arm and tugging you toward the sleeping compartments in the back of the jet, calling for FRIDAY along the way. “Get us back to the compound now,” he orders. “And get Stark or Banner on the line.” He shoves you inside the nearest cabin, following and sliding the door shut behind him. Immediately he’s gripping you by the shoulders and turning you to face him. “Did any of it get on you? On your clothes?” he asks urgently, eyes scanning your body. “No! I mean, not the liquid, I don’t think. But what about that mist or vapour or whatever? What if we breathed it in?” You have no idea what was in that vial. “Oh God, we’re gonna die,” you moan, anxiously pacing the tiny room. “Or I am, anyway. You’ll probably be fine. Fuck. Oh my God. What if it’s like, some flesh-eating poison? Am I gonna turn into the Hulk?” Your heart races and you feel hot. You can’t tell if it’s just fear or something worse but whatever it is must show on your face because Bucky gently guides you to sit on the narrow bed as the call finally connects. “Hey, Bucky, what’s up?” It’s Bruce, thank God. You’re not sure you could handle even the briefest and most well-meaning witticism from Tony right now. Bucky very quickly briefs Bruce on the situation, finishing with, “Any idea what the fuck was in that case?” You can hear the anxiety in Bruce’s voice. “Shit, I don’t know. Not unless you have the label. And we didn’t really examine them, just packed them up.” “Fucking great!” you can’t help but interject, throwing your hands in the air and receiving a concerned look from Bucky in return “But listen, guys. You’re on your way back to the compound – FRIDAY says 30 minutes tops. I’ll have medical and biochem ready as soon as you touch down. And it’s already been what? Like five minutes? If nothing’s happened yet, you’re probably fine? Just sit tight and don’t leave the cabin. The doors seal airtight so nothing can get through.” And with that, Bruce hangs up to get everything ready for your return, leaving you and Bucky at opposite ends of an very small space. You’ve never been claustrophobic before but you must be developing the fear because the walls feel like they’re closing in and your heart feels like it’s about to beat its way out of your chest. “Okay, wow. Great. ‘Sit tight.’ That’s awesome, just awesome.” You look around the room, empty except for the bunk you’re sitting on. “What are we supposed to do now? Play twenty fucking questions?” Your relaxing weekend abroad has disappeared and apparently taken your brain-to-mouth filter with it. Between that, your racing heart, and the increasing heat spreading through your body you’re not entirely sure that you’re probably fine, but you’re chalking it up to anxiety because it’s not like there’s anything you can do about it anyway. Except sit tight. Looking up at Bucky you can see his cheeks have taken on a pink flush, but again, that’s probably just stress. Or maybe annoyance at having to be trapped in a tiny room with you and your panicked blathering for the next half hour. Sighing, he sinks to the floor, resting his back against the door and stretching out his legs in front of him. “Nothin’ to do but wait, doll.” Your eyes flash to his. Doll. He’s never called you that before. He’s never really called you anything before. Bucky seems to have noticed it too because he furrows his brows, looking like he’s just as surprised as you are. There’s a brief moment of eye contact before you both quickly look away, choosing not to address it. Probably just a habit, you think. A remnant of the Bucky that existed long before you were born, jumping out in a moment of stress. A heavy silence falls, leaving you both to your own thoughts. You try to focus on breathing, on staying calm, but your mind keeps straying and it feels like there’s too much energy in your body. Your skin practically itches with it and you squirm, unable to get comfortable but not sure exactly why. You can hear Bucky tapping his foot on the floor, the sound of him shifting around. You wonder if he feels it too. Bucky… Doll. The way it had fallen out of his mouth so casually, so easily. As though he’d said it to you a hundred times. You feel a spark bubble up inside you picturing Bucky’s flushed cheeks and that word. You imagine him saying it breathlessly, reverently, just before his lips touch yours. Or growling it out as he moves inside you… Fuck, doll, just like that. You nearly let out a whimper and you feel a rush of slick in your panties, shocking you out of your fantasy as you become uncomfortably aware of just how wet you are. That spreading heat flares even more than before and you realize you must have been dripping into your underwear for longer than just the last few seconds. There’s a deep throb of arousal in your core, stronger than anything you’ve felt before, like that unbearable energy under your skin has been pulled to settle deep inside you. It’s confusing – far too powerful to be the result of a vague, half-imagined fantasy. But even as you wonder at what’s happening, it’s like a fog settles over you, the confusion half-hearted, nothing compared to the growing urge to touch, to quell the burning fire inside you. Before you can even consciously register the movement, your hand is making its way to your pussy. Any shock or embarrassment at your wildly inappropriate behaviour is slow to appear and dulled when it does. Snatching your hand back just as it nears the apex of your thighs is like walking through deep water, like you have to convince yourself why you shouldn’t get off in front of a co-worker. Your eyes flash to Bucky, wondering if he’s seen, if he’s affected the same way you are, only to find his gaze already fixed on you, blue eyes blown nearly black. His fists are clenched at his sides and his lips are bitten red and spit-slick. He breathes in deep, nostrils flaring, and you realize he can smell you. It should be humiliating. You should be turning away in humiliation, but instead, you feel yourself get – somehow, impossibly – wetter and this time you can’t contain the helpless whimper when Bucky groans and licks his lips in response. It’s as if with that sound the floodgates have opened because in an instant you’re slipping off the bed and throwing yourself at him, desperate to be closer, as close as physically possible. You scramble on top of him, graceless and frantic, straddling his thighs and wrapping your arms around his neck. Bucky’s hands grip your ass, pulling you closer and grinding you down on his cock, pressing hard and hot against you even through your clothes. There’s a moment – a tiny fraction of a second – where you catch each other’s eyes. A pause, where you think you see something, some emotion on Bucky's face, but you don't have time to decipher it before he’s surging up to press his lips against yours and a bomb is set off inside you. You have no idea what you’re doing – your experiences up to now have been limited to a handful of lackluster kisses with people not worth remembering – but Bucky doesn’t seem to notice or mind. He holds your face firmly in his hands, turning your head to suit him as he licks into your mouth and you do your best to mimic his actions, clumsy in your mindless passion. He takes your bottom lip between his teeth and you gasp, rocking your hips against his, trying to get some friction on your throbbing clit. He thrusts up against you and you move together but it’s not enough. It’s clear whatever was in that vial has created a thirst in you that won’t be quenched by a heated make-out session and you pull away from Bucky's mouth, moaning as he tilts your head back to kiss your neck, licking and sucking at the tender skin. “More,” you gasp. “I need more.” You feel him nod against your throat and with one last, deep kiss to your lips Bucky grips you by the hips and lifts you off him, shifting to rest his weight on his heels before reaching to push your dress up over your waist. Almost all of your higher brain function is devoted to being as close to Bucky as possible but far in the back of your mind, there’s a small part of you that’s simply shocked at what’s happening, at the sensations coursing through your body. You have never felt this uninhibited in your entire life. You were a shy, anxious child who grew into a somewhat less shy, anxious adult, easily embarrassed and prone to overthinking. But now, with that silvery mist working its way through your system, you’ve never felt so shameless. Bucky is feverishly slipping off your shoes and tugging down your tights and you’re not thinking about how you haven’t shaved your legs in weeks or how you’re wearing an old pair of plain cotton panties or any of the dozens of worries that would be running through your head under normal circumstances. (Not that Bucky would be undressing you at all, under normal circumstances.) No. Instead of overthinking and paralyzing yourself with fear, you’re pulling your dress over your head and reaching back to unclasp your bra so you can get your own hands on your breasts. You could almost just sit and bask in this unfamiliar feeling of freedom if it weren’t for the hot ache in your core that threatens to burn you alive with every moment you go untouched. As soon as your tights have been pulled off and tossed aside, Bucky is shouldering your legs apart and leaning forward to press his nose against the wet patch on your panties, breathing deep. “Fuck, doll. I need to taste you.” You whimper as his tongue darts out to lick a wide stripe up the length of your covered cunt. His hands move to your hips and in an instant, your panties are torn from your body and his mouth is on your bare skin for the first time. You can’t help but gasp as he presses an open-mouthed kiss to your folds. His tongue licks up your opening and circles your clit before moving back down and slipping inside you, drinking up your slick. Bucky growls against your pussy. “So fucking good.” His tongue moves back to your clit and he laps at it in short, teasing flicks. You begin to buck helplessly and Bucky’s metal arm brackets your hips, holding you still for his mouth. He switches to deep, firm circles over your clit, alternating with wide laps over the whole of your cunt. You’re losing your mind, flat on your back with your legs thrown over Bucky’s shoulders, heels pressing into his back. You’ve never felt anything like this. You haven’t even come yet but it’s already more intense than any orgasm you’ve ever given yourself. You feel two fingers against your opening and you fight Bucky’s grip over your hipbones, trying to grind yourself down onto him. He chuckles at your efforts and presses just the tips of his fingers inside you. “So needy, huh? Just wanna be filled up, don’t you?” You have no idea how he’s able to tease right now when you're ready to fall to your knees and plead just for the chance at an orgasm. You whine, trying again to slide down onto his fingers but his metal arm keeps you from moving a single inch and you toss your head back with a wail. “Please, Bucky,” you sob. “I need it, I need you. Please.” You feel no embarrassment at your begging. The fire inside you is growing hotter and hotter. You need him. You need to be filled, fucked. You feel like you’ll die if he doesn’t fuck you now. The teasing tone drops out of Bucky’s voice and he presses messy kisses to your inner thighs. “I know, I know. I feel it too. Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’m gonna fill you up so good. Stuff you full. Gonna make you feel so good, make it better.” His fingers finally slip into you, sliding easily through your wetness. He starts thrusting and his tongue circles your clit again as his fingers curl. He focuses on your g-spot, stroking roughly as he pulls your clit into his mouth and sucks. You’re coming in seconds with a series of breathy moans, thighs clamped tightly around Bucky’s head. He doesn’t let up, only pulling away when you tug at his hair, the sensations too much. He kisses you, sliding his tongue against yours and you can taste yourself in his mouth. It reignites the fire your orgasm had dulled slightly and you pull away, about to plead for more, but it seems Bucky has finally reached his limit. His hands work at his belt and he shoves his jeans and briefs down just enough to free his cock. You’ve never really seen one in person before and maybe under different circumstances you’d take a moment to get familiar, but right now all you can do is spread your legs and beg. Bucky quickly positions himself above you, lining his cock up with your entrance. He drags the head along your pussy a couple times, groaning as he slicks himself up and begins to push into you. He’s bigger than anything you’ve ever had inside you hardly notice the sting. It’s nothing compared to the raging chorus inside you chanting more, more, more. In one single, hurried thrust he’s fully inside, your bodies pressed flush together. Bucky moans. “So fucking tight, fuck. You feel so goddamn good, doll,” he pants above you, leaning down for a filthy kiss, wet and open. “Fucking move, please,” you beg, hooking your legs around him and digging in your heels. Bucky growls into your mouth and pulls out almost entirely before thrusting back inside hard, pulling a sound from deep in your throat. He repeats the move a handful of times before settling into a harsh, pounding rhythm with his face buried in your neck. You cling to his back, senseless, unable to focus on anything but how good you feel. Your brain feels fuzzy and empty and every thrust drags his cock along your g-spot and it’s too much, too good. You’re a gasping, panting mess. It’s not long before his hips start to stutter, his rhythm breaking as he moans out above you. Your hand slides down your body to your clit and you rub firm circles around it. A few swipes and you’re coming, harder than you ever have in your life, with a high, keening moan. The tight squeezes of your cunt have Bucky coming too and you feel a warmth release inside you as he collapses against your chest. Neither of you moves for a long moment, your heavy, mingled breaths the only sound in the room. There’s still some lingering fog as you soak in the afterglow of your drug-intensified orgasm, but it seems like the chemical has run its course and clarity is quickly returning to you. The silence is broken by FRIDAY announcing your approach to one of the landing pads, and you feel the jet begin its descent a moment later. Her voice hits you like a slap in the face, a stark reminder of what’s really happening here, what you’ve just done. It seems Bucky feels the same, because he leans back just enough to look you in the eyes and a long moment of horrified recognition passes between you. Your breathing picks up again as panic surges through you. You start to squirm under his weight but he’s already moving. You wince as he pulls out of you, suddenly aware of a deep soreness between your legs. In seconds, Bucky has tucked himself back into his jeans, and he storms out of the cabin without a backward glance. So eager to get away from you he doesn’t seem to care that he might be walking directly into a toxic cloud. Like anything would be better than being trapped with you for another moment. You lay there on the floor, naked and shivering, with Bucky’s cum starting to leak out of you as you struggle to take a breath, all the anxiety and uncertainty the drug had masked flooding back to you at once. You force yourself to sit up and pull your clothes back on, cringing as you feel the mess between your legs seep into your tights. You hastily stuff your ruined panties in your pocket. You take a few deep breaths and try to still your shaking hands as you hear footsteps approaching the cabin. You’re given a respirator and guided off the jet into a throng of people awaiting your arrival, Bucky nowhere to be seen. White-coated staff swarm you and lead you inside. +++ You wish you could say the next several hours are a blur, but they are, unfortunately, exceptionally, horrifically clear. You’re taken through a decontamination shower, though you’re really not sure how much good it could do at this point, then poked and prodded with needles and swabs while having the most mortifying conversation of your life. You feel nearly choked with a shocking, burning shame. This morning you woke up nervous and excited for a weekend away, and now you’re telling a handful of strangers how you just had sex for the first time in an uncontrollable, frenzied state of lust with one of the Avengers. And as though it couldn’t be worse, it’s made all the more humiliating by the lingering throb of arousal thrumming through you the entire time. It seems whatever this drug is, the two orgasms you’ve already had weren’t enough to neutralize it, though at least you have enough self-control now to keep from shoving your hand down your pants in front of everyone in the room. Finally, after what seems like hours and unfortunately really is hours, you’re told to go home and rest. You’ve been given an emergency contraceptive, a pamphlet for the Employee Assistance Program, a number to call if you feel any strange symptoms, and told that someone will follow up with you in the next day or so. You feel numb as you enter your apartment, tugging off your med-bay issued scrubs on the way to the bathroom. You get yourself off in the shower, and though it’s the most joyless orgasm of your life, it seems to finally clear any lingering arousal from your system. Wincing at the tenderness between your legs, you scrub yourself clean under the hot spray, half wishing you could dissolve into a puddle and wash away down the drain with the soapy water. You’re getting ready for bed when your thoughts take a sudden turn to Bucky for the first time in hours. You’d been so overwhelmed by all the tests and questions, so cocooned in your own embarrassment you’d practically forgotten about him. Guilt rushes through you at your own selfish thoughtlessness. Feeling so sorry for yourself like you were the only victim. Like you were the victim at all. You’ve had a crush on Bucky for months, have spent more time than you’d like to admit imagining being with him in ways both innocent and obscene. But he’s never looked twice at you, barely speaks to you except for unavoidable work discussions. Not that you expect anything different. Someone like him would never want to be with you anywhere outside your daydreams. Except now he has been with you. Forced against his will to take part in some horrific act, because surely that’s how Bucky must see it, now the fog of uncontrollable lust has cleared. You had sex for the first time in decidedly unwanted conditions, but at least it was with someone you’re genuinely attracted to, someone you have feelings for. Bucky had been forced to have sex with someone he didn’t even like, much less desire. After everything he’s been through, how hard he’s worked to find a place where he can feel safe and in control of his own life – his own body. Only to have that control taken from him again in the most indecent way. Shame, viscous and thick, swells in your throat like sickness and your eyes fill with tears. No wonder Bucky ran out of the cabin the way he had. You feel so much worse because of your feelings for him. Dirty and wrong because you would have enjoyed the sex even without the drug. You know, deep down, it’s not your fault. You didn’t mean to knock the case over and you had no idea what was inside – not to mention you weren’t the one who forgot to latch it – but you can’t help but feel responsible for what happened and you wonder if Bucky feels the same. If he knows about your feelings and thinks you orchestrated the entire thing on purpose. You wouldn’t blame him if he did. And the rest of the team! If they don’t know already, they will soon enough. What if they blame you too? What if they’re disgusted by you? Anxiety spreads through your body from your pounding heart, filling your limbs. You can’t breathe, you can’t think. You feel boiling hot and ice cold all at once. Collapsing to your bedroom floor, you bring your hands to your thighs, digging your fingernails into the skin. The sharp pain distracts you from the heavy panic flooding your body enough to let you focus on breathing in, then out, repeating the words in your head until you feel your heart rate settle, the panic easing a little. You pull yourself up off the floor and push yourself through the motions of getting ready for bed. The intrusive thoughts are still there (everyone hates you. You’re going to lose your job. Are you sure you didn’t do it on purpose?) but you try to ignore them. There’s nothing you can do about anything right now and thinking yourself into a panic attack won’t do any good. You turn on an old episode of your favourite show and get in bed, tugging the covers up to your neck and focusing on the screen, allowing the familiar storylines to dull the intensity of your thoughts until you finally fall asleep. A/N: And that’s the end of Part 1! Thanks for reading and feel free to like, comment, and/or reblog and let me know what you thought! I spent a truly ridiculous amount of time trying to figure out the whole sex pollen aspect and I’m still not totally happy with it hahah but I hope it doesn’t seem too shoe-horned in 😝 Anything else that you’d like to see tagged/warned for, let me know!!

#bucky barnes x reader #reader insert #mcu #mcu fanfiction #marvel #marvel fanfiction #bucky barnes #smut #series

[wannabe-fic-writer]

All Over Again - Chapter 2

Summary: What was lost can be found. 

Warning: 18+ Smut, Language, Violence. This chapter gets a little science nerdy!

Ch. 1

* * * * * *

“How did you do it?” 

Looking up from the red glowing gun, your eyebrows pinch together as you look at the man stepping into your lab. His eyes, like always, flick around to take in your equipment. All your weapons lining the walls. 

You lay the sword down,“ what did I do exactly?”

Tony leans on the counter across from you,“ Luthor Corp just bought six shares of Stark Industries and sent multiple emails detailing possible partnered projects.” His eyebrows rise,“ I’ve been trying to go into business with Luthor Corp for years now.” 

“Congrats?” You narrow your eyes at him,“ still not seeing where I come in at.” 

Your hands glow red as you run them along the side of the rifle, effectively removing it’s glow and energy charge. 

“Side note, if you could come do your glowy magic thing on my new reactor, that’d be great.” You save your comments on that for later.“ Anyway, Pepper told me that you made quite the impression on Miss Luthor. I have a hunch her new found interest in my company is because of you.” 

“Probably not. We never talked about Stark Industries. We talked about a lot but never the company.” 

Frowning, he tilts his head to the side,“ it was an investment dinner, the purpose was to-” he sighs,“ nevermind that. You’re going to National City tomorrow correct?”

“I really don’t want to play company rep Tony. We’re just working on a project of hers.” 

Which you found out the day after the investment dinner. 

You’d contacted Lena about going out there. She confirmed your guess that she wanted to get your take and help on the power core. For the past two days you’ve been getting a few things done, mainly stuff that needs your immediate attention, so you wouldn’t be leaving anything undone. 

After some pleading from Tony you tell him you’ll consider giving Stark Industries a little good press with Lena but you make no promises. Then finishing up your work and leaving the lab. 

Sighing, you roll your shoulders, feeling how tired you are. Doing almost a week's worth of work in two days isn’t the most healthy thing. 

“Hey, you okay?” 

E/c finds deep green and you nod,“ fine.” The smile you try to give turns out to be a grimace. 

Natasha watches you,“ you sure, you look pretty tired. I know you’ve been-”

“Romanoff, I’m fine.” 

The redhead sighs. She quickly pulls a blank expression and moves to stand directly in front of you,“ how long are you going to act like this with me?” 

“Like what?”

“Indifferent Y/n. Every time we talk you give me some off handed generic response like we haven’t known each other for nine years. Three of which we dated.” 

You narrow your eyes at her,“ all three you spent keeping secrets. And then left me for said secrets immediately after. I’m not indifferent towards you Natasha I’m fucking hurt.” You don’t mean to snap but you can’t help it. 

Since your break up Natasha has moved on and has tried to interact with you like everything was fine. Like she hadn’t broken your heart. Better yet, as if she was scared you’d hurt her. 

Getting to the end of the hallway, you turn to her,“ you know what’s funny? Had you just told me, beforehand, that there was something between you and Doctor Banner, I would’ve understood. Because the worst part was being blindsided.” 

“Y/n I’m sorry.” If you were close enough you could see the regret in her eyes, might’ve been able to hear her heartbreak. 

You nod,“ I know. You told me.”

Avoiding the ex-assassin has become a bit of an everyday thing now. So much so that you almost don’t have to put any effort into doing it before you have to leave. You spend a little time training with Sam and Bucky, walking them both through their new supercharged weapons. You coordinate with Steve on the mission you’re being assigned after you get back. 

You also take a moment to research Miss Luthor and Luthor Corp. Alongside finding the controversial opinions on the company and the woman running it. You ended up, not surprised, but impressed with her work.

And of course you spend some time with Wanda. Said woman not leaving your side at all, even as you go to bed. She occupies the empty side of your bed through the night and truthfully you’re grateful for the company. 

When you wake up, you make quick work of showering, getting dressed, and starting to pack. Wanda doesn’t move a muscle, much more content with reveling in the warmth you’d left behind, while trying to get you to not go. 

“I won’t even be gone long, back by tomorrow for sure.” You push a set of shirts in your bag. 

Wanda groans loudly and cuddles further into your fluffy blanket,“ but I just got back and you promised to take me to see Harrison.”

You chuckle lowly,“ it’s Hamilton, Wan. And I’m still gonna take you, just a little later. Think of it as an anticipation builder.”

“Don’t you think I have enough anticipation.”

Shaking your head, you zip up your overnight bag, and sit down beside the young woman,“ come on Wan, it’s not like I’m leaving you alone.” 

“Basically you are. Steve and Bucky never leave each other’s sides and Sam follows them around always, and Natasha has Bruce!” She exclaims, only to jolt up when she realizes what she’s said.“ I’m sorry.”

You do your best to laugh it off,“ it’s fine really. Natasha does have Bruce.” You quickly change the subject before that familiar ache returns,“ why don’t you take Clint up on his offer to stay with them for a while?”

Wanda looks down, playing with her fingers,“ I’m not ready to do that just yet.” Those eyes then lock with yours,“ besides I can’t leave you.”

“Hey,” you pull her into your side,“ you know I’m always here for you right?” She nods. Deciding not to leave on a somber note, you joke,“ except for tomorrow, so endure Miss Maximoff, and text me.” Standing up, you press a very chaste kiss to her forehead, and then leave out with a wink. 

“Headed out Y/Ln?” 

You nod to Steve, holding up your bag in emphasis,“ yeah, I’ll only be gone a day you know.” He nods.“ Oh and Rogers, do me a favor and keep an eye on Wanda yeah?”

While she’s doing significantly better after everything, you know she still has her moments. When they hit they hit hard and feeling/being alone doesn’t help. It’s one of the many reasons Clint invited her to go stay with his family for a while. But Wanda has reservations about that for reasons she hadn’t yet told you.

After getting Steve’s agreement to do so, you leave. 

To you, the worst part of traveling is all the little stupid stuff in between. You loved driving, hated traffic. Flying was calming and you loved looking at the clouds sail by, you hated TSA, baggage claim, and boarding. 

Luckily National City is merely five hours away and the second you land you feel the difference in NYC and NC. While both are skyscraper filled, fast paced, cities. There’s something about National City that seems freer. People are nicer, the sun shines brighter, the air smells cleaner. 

Perhaps it’s just being on the West Coast.

Being the woman she is, Lena has a car service for you, the driver waiting with your name on a white board. You confirm your identity and follow the woman out to the car. On the drive to Luthor Corp, you take in the sights of National City.

Lots of skyscrapers but still a surprising amount of greenery. Eventually you approach your destination, the tall glass building branding the large Luthor Corp logo. 

“Thank you.” You nod to the driver, slipping a tip her way, and getting out of the car. 

Stepping inside the building, your eyes take in the sunlit interior as you approach the front desk. The young receptionist asks what he can help you with and you respond that you’re here for Lena Luthor and he asks for your name. 

In the end you’re told to wait as she’s in a meeting, so you pass the time by texting Wanda, replying to the dozen texts Tony had sent. You tell him you’ll do it if he can get you decent Hamilton tickets and he agrees instantly. 

“Y/n,” her voice, while still new to your ears, is easily recognizable,“ I’m so sorry for making you wait.” 

You’re waving her off in an instant,“ it’s fine, I’m no greater than anyone else, I can wait.”

She chuckles, nodding in understanding, and silently pleased with your humility. A number of people would’ve demanded they go in immediately. 

From there she directs you toward the elevator. As you walk the people walking around look to Lena in seeming amazement. 

“It seems your employees are also fans, rightfully so.” You tease honestly. 

“They’re a part of a small group believe me. I have more opposition than you could imagine.” 

Raising an eyebrow, you shrug,“ a powerful woman is intimidating, especially one as brilliant and compassionate as you Miss Luthor.” 

A light blush fans her cheeks and her eyes watch you on the elevator,“ if I didn’t know any better I’d say you’re trying to flatter me.”

“I’m being honest with you Lena, it just so happens that your truth is pleasing to hear.” The elevator dings, letting you both off to a floor of labs, some walled off by glass and others concrete. You look around, some machines and equipment familiar to you and others you don’t recognize. 

Lena guides you down the halls to a room at the very end. It’s dark inside at first and then a purple light rises. Repeatedly it shines and then dims and you walk closer in amazement. 

Octagonal, metal, plates surround the rock like material in the center, each plate connected by thick wires. The purple light emits from the rock. Lena flicks the lights on and it powers up the monitors and the core. 

Still watching in fascination, you walk around the core, remaining a few decent feet away. A very low hum sounds from it and you can practically feel the power of it. 

“Wow.” Lena smiles at your amazement.“ I imagine you had to build a stabilizer before you could move it.” You look up at her.

“I did. It was in a ship when I found it so I reutilized the ship's engine.” 

Eyes wide, you smile softly,“ instead of the engine pulling energy from the core-”

She nods,“ it pushed the energy back into it.” 

“How did you stop it from overloading?” 

“Reworked the wiring to continuously transport the energy so there was never an overwhelming amount in the core at one point in time.” 

You look back at the core, noticing that is also how she’s currently keeping it from overloading.“ Remember when I said you’re brilliant?” She nods.“ That was an understatement.”

With another laugh and a bashful blush, she brings you over to her monitoring equipment. 

The next few hours pass with the two of you working on it. Lena loved the idea of turning the one power core into multiple ones which would require harvesting pieces of it. But it’s not like they make Alien Rock saws or anything on earth. 

You’d have to invent a tool strong enough to cut through it without it disrupting or agitating the energy. 

It’s well past the late hours of the night when hunger sets in for both of you. Lena insists you join her for dinner. After locking up her office, the two of you go to a restaurant that she sings praises for. 

The maitre’d is quick to seat you both, your waiter bringing water, and asking if you’d like anything else to drink. Lena orders wine and you get an old fashioned like usual. 

“So outside of being well versed in science,” Lena starts,“ what other talents do you have?” 

“I can make a great cup of coffee.” You joke, the woman laughing.“ No um, I’m a weapons specialist. It goes hand in hand with science and my powers. Mental materialization allows me to create just about any weapon with my mind, of course it doesn’t last forever. For the most part I enhance the weapons the team already has though I’ve invented a weapon or two.”

Brown eyebrows raise,“ invented?” Intrigue enters her eyes and you’ve already become accustomed to it.

You nod,“ at the time my team and I were facing a threat we never had before. It required a special type of weapon and of course it didn’t exist.”

“Alien?”

Before you can reply, the waiter returns. They set down your drinks and take your orders, both of you smiling politely before they walk away. 

Looking back at Lena, you sip your drink, and respond,“ yes. It took a lot of trial and error, messing around with their own weapons to finally get it. I ended up using the alien technology to build the weapons.”

“And you say I’m the brilliant one.” A smirk plays at her lips over the rim of her wine glass.

It’s then that you replay your own words in your head being hit with a startling realization!

“Lena!” You exclaim. Green eyes widen slightly, eyebrows raising simultaneously.“ A laser saw. We’ve been trying to come up with a material strong enough to cut through it instead of using its own energy to do so.”

She understands quickly, a disbelieving chuckle leaves her lips,“ oh my god, you’re right. Of course we’d have to neutralize the core before cutting it. That amount of energy against itself could cause a cascade of energy failures or something much worse.”

“You figured out how to stabilize it with it’s own engine and now you’ve got me,” she smiles amusedly,“ I’m sure two scientists of our caliber could work something out.”

Lena agrees. Then insisting you two talk about anything other than the work. 

As much as she loves her work, she’s been intrigued by you since your first meeting. With this being a much more casual setting than the investment dinner and her lab, she wants to get to know you. 

She’s learned how intelligent you are, even if that’s just the tip of your iceberg, but she’s dying to know more. And she does.

Over dinner you both get to know each other better. Lena’s disdain for her last name but need to clear it is something she, almost subconsciously, divulges. You’re not exactly surprised to hear that she went to MIT, in fact you would’ve been shocked if she went anywhere else. 

While she avoids going in depth about her family, she does make mention of being close to her brother when they were younger and loving her father endlessly. Her sincere compassion is a trait she seemed to have always had despite the briefly mentioned opposition she faced over being so.  

Her taking over the company after her brother was for a number of reasons the main one being that she wanted to prove herself. Luthor doesn’t mean evil, not always anyway. You’re led to believe that while many don’t agree, there’s proof through Lena’s work that she isn’t a bad person. 

In turn you tell her about your time as an Avenger. All of it started back when your father worked for S.H.I.E.L.D. Being the dedicated man that he was, he often brought his work home, and being the daddy’s girl that you were, you lingered around and watched as he worked.

You’d picked up on a lot of things from him involving the weapons. By the time you were 16 you knew most guns inside and out from standard pistols to compact grenade launchers. 

After high school you went to Stanford and majored in Mechanical Engineering, getting the opportunity to intern at the one and only Stark industries. Upon graduation you had taken an actual job at the company. Some time later you were approached by Fury to assist Stark in building the Particle Accelerator to save himself and take down Ivan.

Tony took a liking to you during your time working together and afterwards was more than happy to work closer with you, especially since you still worked for Stark Industries. Those connections lead you to being picked up by Fury every once and a while with S.H.I.E.L.D business. Until S.H.I.E.L.D fell, your last mission with them being Sokovia.

Eventually, despite the very late hour, Lena’s phone starts to buzz almost incessantly. With a small,“ excuse me,” she picks it up, reading the messages she received. 

“Are you up to a few more drinks?” She asks with a soft smile and you find yourself unable to say no under the gaze of her green eyes. 

She settles the check, relenting and letting you leave the tip, before you’re both in her car and driving to a different location. This place is a lot less upscale than the last. Funnily enough you find it a lot more comfortable than the restaurant. 

You follow beside Lena, who approaches a table surrounded by a decent sized group of people. They all smile brightly at the CEO, a blonde hugging her excitedly. Then all eyes fall to you. Before Lena can even introduce you, a voice speaks. 

“Oooohhhh my god!” A man about your height nearly vibrates with excitement in his seat. Brown eyes widen and he bites his lip.“ You’re Artemis, the Avenger!��

It’s impossible to not chuckle at his enthusiasm.“ I am, but without the getup you can call me Y/n,” you reach a hand out to shake his.

“Y/n, yeah of course.” He shrugs with an understanding nod. 

Going around the group of people, you shake hands and learn names. After Winn, sits Kara Danvers(Lena’s best friend as she introduces), Kara’s sister Alex(definitely an agent of some sort), J’onn(also an agent), and James Olsen. 

While they all seem fairly nice, you can see Alex’s and J’onn’s studying expressions. They watch you cautiously and you don’t blame them. Winn and Kara are the more open ones, excited to meet you and engaging in a seeming nonstop conversation. And James, well you aren’t sure about him yet but he seems okay. 

Alex takes a swig from her beer, elbows leaning on the table top,“ what brings you to National City?” 

“Lena actually.” All eyes widen, eyebrows rising as well.“ In a strictly platonic and professional way.”

The CEO beside you chuckles softly, hand resting on your bicep,“ Y/n’s assisting me with a project of mine upon my request.” 

“What kind of project?” The auburn haired woman asks.

Something in her tone tells you that she’s skeptical, almost untrusting of the woman at your side. Whatever history is there is a little rocky, you can’t place why but it is. And even though you don’t know anyone here all that well, you’d hate for everyone’s seeming enjoyable night to take a sour turn.

“For now it’s merely a test for a new energy source. If it’s not clean energy or it’s unstable it won’t go further than this.” 

The woman seems satisfied with your answer, at least a little, and nods. Lena sending you a smile in thanks. 

“So, what kind of drink recommendations can a tourist like me get?” 

With your simple, easygoing question, conversations start back up. Each person gives you a drink recommendation and you take it, trying each one. Some you don’t like but most of them are great, and strong.

By the end of the night there isn’t a single person who isn’t laughing. The effects of the alcohol you’ve consumed hit you and while you aren’t wasted, it definitely makes things lighter for you. 

“Alright, I think it’s time I get this one back to her hotel so she can get home tomorrow.” Lena lightly pats your shoulder.

“Awe booo!” Kara and Winn say at the same time, the latter much more intoxicated than the former.

You pout, looking at Lena,“ don’t you want to hear about the anti-gravity gun Winn is working on?” 

“It’s handheld.” He adds in a whisper.

The brunette chuckles,“ I’m sure Winn would be more than happy to tell you about it some other time.” 

Sighing you nod,“ fine. She’s right, I have a flight later.” You rise up, the support of the table a great assistance,“ it was a great pleasure to meet all of you, had a lot of fun.” 

Kara’s big blue eyes find yours,“ you’re going to visit again right?”

“Not sure when but I will definitely be coming back.” 

With a goodbye to everyone, you and Winn slapping hands and nearly missing, and you and Kara high fiving perfectly, you leave. 

For the third time tonight you’re in Lena’s car. She leans back into her seat after telling her driver where to take you. It’s a fairly quiet ride back to the hotel, you drinking from the water Lena gets from the center console, and her occasionally looking over at you. 

She took great delight in watching you interact with her friends, especially with the amount of alcohol you’d consumed. Drunk wasn’t the proper state to describe you as but the intake definitely had you a lot more talkative and energetic than Lena has seen, though that’s only been twice. 

Telling her driver to keep the car running, she accompanies you up to your room. She’d hate if anything happened to you before a friendship could even begin. 

You swipe the card over the door sensor and push it open, turning to lean against the frame and address Lena.“ Thanks for today.”

“The whole day?” She chuckles.

“Yes ma’am. I loved every bit of it. Your friends are awesome and I’m really excited to see how the power core works out.” 

A little smile pulls at her lips,“ well I may have started this by myself but you’re definitely a part of it now. So let me know the next time you’re able to come back.”

“Really?” Your eyebrows pinch together. Compared to how much was done when you’d arrived everything you did felt like adding two measly cents. 

Honestly speaking, you’d genuinely loved every second of working on the power core with her. As much as you love saving the world as an Avenger, there was a newfound excitement and intrigue in you while you worked on this. It could save lives in a way you can’t as an Avenger. 

“Only if you want to.” The CEO says, slight hesitation hidden behind her teasing smirk. 

“I’d love to.”

* * * * * *

Taglist: @username23345 @depressed-bi-bitch @fayhar @trikruismybitch @aznblossom

#lena luthor #lena luthor x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #dcu #dcu x reader #mcu #mcu x reader #reader insert #all over again

[syntheticavenger]

Right + Click + Save - Part 2

Summary | Bucky isn’t interested in his profile so much as he is in the person helping him access his account. A FaceTime leads to a strange text message.

[As of now I am not tagging this as anything but fluff and sarcasm with a little hint of what is to come. It won’t be dark territory but Hydra will make an appearance. This is a bit of a first for me writing so much fluff but it’s pretty fun so far. If you want to be added to the tag list, let me know!]

A/N: Bucky x Female Reader. This amazing plot was a request from the lovely @tom-hlover​. I hope I am continuing to do it justice 👉🏾👈🏾.

I cannot for the life of me remember where I got this gif from but I want to give credit so if you know who made it, let me know.

“You can smile, you know. You know how to do that, right? Lift up those luscious lips upward,” Sam urged, holding up the camera once more. “Give us that Kate Moss energy.”

“Who the hell is that?” Bucky’s eyebrows furrowing at the comparison while the camera flash went off.

“Come on man, give me something! You want a profile picture for the ladies that screams I’m available, I’m ready to mingle. You’re giving me stalker vibes.” With a sigh, Sam deleted the image off the camera.

“Maybe this is too much. Do I really need a profile picture? I’ve been doing well without one.”

“Doing well without one? Man, you got like four messages in that inbox and they were all advertisements.”

“How do you know that?”

Bucky had seen Sam over his shoulder when he opened his laptop, still getting used to the notifications that popped up as he tried to navigate this new world of technology.

“Nevermind how I know. You gonna put some effort into it or not?”

Bucky forced a smile, which faded before the camera flashed.

“Damn it, Barnes! Work with me here.”

“I’m trying,” Bucky countered, closing his laptop and trying to look comfortable as Sam snapped another photo.

“How’s that girl you’ve been talking to? From tech support, right? You know that’s only if you need help. Unless you’re trying to make a love connection that way.”

The hesitation did not help Bucky’s case, Sam’s eyebrow lifted so high it looked like it would be there permanently.

“It’s not like that,” he protested, not even believing his own lie. “I locked myself out of the account a day or so again. I really hate these auto generated passwords.”

“You know they’re saved on your phone, right? Between you and Steve, y’all are killing me.”

With a roll of his eyes, Bucky lifted himself from the couch, rolling his shoulders back as he reached for his phone.

“Gotta make a call. You gonna be productive today or just continue roasting me?”

“It’s what I do and yes, I’m gonna be productive. Gonna go head down to the lab to see what Tony’s done to my beloved Redwing if you must know,” Sam replied with a smirk. “Enjoy your phone call.”

➰

You didn’t want to jinx it but you enjoyed the way he always introduced himself when he called, even though you saw his name pop up on the screen. It was the little things - the introduction of who he was, to the small freakouts when someone else was calling and he accidentally hung up on you to the muffled swearing at Sam who would tease him - that made you hate to admit that you maybe, sort of, were developing a crush on this faceless man who was so adorably bad at technology. He’d gotten better, learning how to program your number into his phone and to text.

They weren’t dates - you knew you couldn’t call them that or even describe what it was - but there was a time of day when he would call and just talk. Since you worked from home, you breaks whenever you wanted and you found yourself having a regime, putting aside work to lounge on your couch and listen to him tell you about his day.

Usually after unlocking his account. Today was the fifth attempt in a row to unlock his account.

“You probably think I’m stupid,” he says finally, after a long explanation of his job. Something about extractions and being on a team. “I’d pick a password myself but apparently that’s easier to hack.”

You’ve since given up asking questions and decided he’s an exterminator.

“You’d have to add symbols or random numbers to make it harder for people to hack it,” you suggested, already picturing him making a face.

At least, you would if you knew what he looked like.

This had been going on for weeks now. Your curiosity was getting the better of you and you knew you shouldn’t ask. This poor man had probably believed he had found a friend in you and all you wanted to do was see his face. It was probably the working from home, you decided. It was making you crave human interaction - to see mouths move in real time, noses scrunch at a funny joke, expressions changing within seconds and all the normal human interactions that people had taken for granted before your job had switched to relying on teleconferencing and emails as communication.

“James,” you started, nibbling your lip nervously. “Have you ever FaceTimed?”

“No,” came the reply, bewildered at the question. “What is that?”

Here went nothing.

“It’s a video conferencing app on your phone.”

There was silence on the other end.

“James? Are you there?”

“Video?”

“Yeah,” you continued, cradling the phone against your ear. “You don’t have to if you’re uncomfortable. I just... we’ve been talking for a little while and I wanted to put a face to a name.”

You absentmindedly checked your own hair, hoping you didn’t have bedhead from how you had slept earlier.

“You want to see my face? Why?”

You pulled yourself up to sit forward, trying not to laugh at his worried tone.

“It’s normal? You don’t have to. Like I said, I just wanted to put a name to a face but we don’t have to do that. It’s been nice having some human interaction that doesn’t involve emails.”

“Do I get to see what you look like if I do it?” There was silence and then a small laugh. “That came out as weird as it sounded in my head, didn’t it?”

“You can,” you answered, trying to stifle a laugh. He sounded mortified. “Do you want me to FaceTime you?”

There was a low sigh on the other end.

“Sure.”

You pulled the phone away from your ear, selecting the FaceTime button as the phone warbled for a long moment until it was answered.

You were staring at a pair of black boots.

“James?”

“Hang on a second,” he said, the camera flipping to a handsome face.

Intense blue grey eyes looked back at you, a nervous smile upon a pair of pink lips as the phone panned back to reveal the entire face.

So much for thinking it was an old man. He looked to be your age and a sigh of relief went through you. You weren’t going to admit you had a started to get a little crush but the fact that he was cute made it even better.

“Hi James,” you greeted, suddenly feeling shy. “Welcome to FaceTime.”

He laughed, the sound making your heart flutter and you wanted to kick yourself at the sensation. It was a simple FaceTime, no need for dramatics. You wondered if you really had been that starved of human contact that you found everything he did, right down to nervous movement of his hand sweeping through his hair - adorable.

“There you are,” he said quietly, blinking slowly as he looked at you. “I’m terrified of this thing. Am I being recorded?”

“No. At least, I don’t think so.”

“Well, that’s good I guess. Do people FaceTime often?”

He looked up at something in front of him as he frowned, mouthing something to someone that you couldn’t see.

“Everything okay?”

His eyes snapped back to your view, a sheepish smile appearing across his face.

“Yeah, it’s uh, it’s good. Just dealing with my nosy roommate.”

“That’s okay.” He made a slicing motion with a single finger as he looked above the camera that made you laugh.

“Sorry. He’s a handful. Where were we?”

“We were just taking about FaceTime. Welcome to the world of video conferencing. Scary stuff in these crazy times.”

As he settled back against this couch, you did the same.

“It is nice to see who has been helping me unlock my accounts and who listens to me ramble on about my day. I know you probably have better things to do than listen to me but it’s nice... having someone listen. I should probably get out more.”

A woeful expression flashed across his face before he cleared his throat.

“What about you? Do you get out much?”

“Ah, no. I’m a bit of a homebody myself. Working from home has made me realize that I like people at a distance.”

His head nodded at your comment, as if in full agreement until he nearly dropped the phone, your view of the ceiling apparent before he swore.

“Sorry,” he apologized, his face back in your view. “So I guess dating is out of the question, right?”

You shook your head at his question. It had been ages since you’d been out on a date, let alone wander the city.

“I don’t know. I haven’t really been on a date in a while.”

“You’re in charge of a dating site,” he countered, his eyebrow raising. “You’d think that’d be easy, especially with how beautiful you are.”

Heat rose to your face at his compliment.

“Haven’t had a lot of offers,” you admitted. “And thank you, that’s very sweet of you.”

“No offers? I mean, I could. Offer, that is.” His hand rubbed the back of his neck as he looked away from the camera.

“Offer what?” You knew what he was trying to ask but you wanted to hear the words yourself.

“I’d like to take you on a date, if that isn’t too much with you working from home and all.”

You paused the video, slumping back in your seat.

“Where did you go?”

“Sorry, sorry, I’m here,” you replied, turning the camera back on. “Still here.”

“For a minute I thought you hung up on me like I did to you.”

You both shared a laugh before he trailed off, biting his lip for a moment.

“And yes, I’d love to. Go on a date with you, that is.”

Nothing prepared you for the smile you received on the other end.

“Great. Oh shit, my phone is about to die. Can I call you tomorrow and we can talk details?” His eyes were focused on what you believed was the battery icon, his face disappearing from you as he got up and walked away.

“Sure,” you called out, unsure why you were yelling through the phone.

“I’m still here, looking for the charger. Sam! Where is my charger!”

The FaceTime ended quickly and you laughed. Wherever you went on your date, you’d be sure to teach him how to use his phone.

You pulled yourself up to head to the kitchen, your phone vibrating as a text popped up on the screen from an unknown number.

Always watching.

At the sight of it, you figured it was a prank, swiping it out of existence as you busied yourself with opening the cabinets in search of pasta and a jar of sauce.

But even as you lit the burner on the stove, you were compelled to close the blinds.

It was probably nerves. They always got the best of you.

#bucky barnes x reader #sam wilson #work from home #awkward flirting #love in the time of covid

[redgillan]

Under Pastel Skies - 3

Sugar daddy!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Modern!AU Bucky doesn’t need anyone, especially not a sugar baby. He isn’t that desperate… but she smiles so sweetly and she’s endearingly awkward, and he’s so lonely. She’s an artist, a painter, the type of person who always puts others before herself. Throwing caution to the wind Bucky offers her a place to live, a place where she can finally paint whatever her heart desires. He doesn’t need much in return; a friend, a muse.

Word Count: 2,587

Warnings: none

A/N: I wanted to give Reader a family and this is the easiest way to do it. Btw Peggy’s husband isn’t Steve, I have other plans for him ;) Enjoy!

Wannabe sugar daddies don’t interact, idc if you have money, eat it and leave me be.

The rest of the week went by, and you kept hoping Bucky would come back. You hadn’t seen him since he’d left 300 dollars under his napkin after visiting you at work. You had tucked the bills into your bra, knowing they would be safe there, and walked home at the end of your shift.

Now it was Thursday afternoon and you were craving a day off.

Natasha’s apartment was spacious and the oversized glass window bathed the living room in natural sunlight. The apartment was a gift from Sam. Obviously.

You dropped your purse on the sofa –your bed- and laid out the bills on the coffee table. It was made of marble and brass, another gift from Sam.

You didn’t know what to do with the money, so you took it wherever you went, to keep it safe. You wanted to return it to Bucky. It was too much and you weren’t used to random acts of kindness.

You sunk into the cushion and blew out a sigh as you stared at the money. The persistent vibration of your phone against your thigh pulled you out of your thoughts. Half expecting it to be Natasha, you answered without looking at the caller ID.

The operator told you that Scott Lang was calling from Saint Quentin State Prison, and asked if you would accept the charges. You agreed. You always agreed.

“Splotchy, I need your help.”

Closing your eyes, you let your head fall back against the cushion. “I told you to stop calling me that, Scott.”

It was a silly nickname.

As a child, your mother dubbed you splotchy because of the colourful doodles you painted on the living room walls, and your siblings, who were roughly a few years older than you, had loved using that nickname. Especially since they knew you disliked it.

Their support and endless enthusiasm played a big part in your artistic journey, nurturing that spark into a flame. What started out as a childlike fascination with colours and shapes became your whole life. No one was surprised when you decided to pursue a degree in fine arts.

After the death of her husband, Peggy Carter adopted five children; a little boy from San Francisco, a little girl from Wakanda, twins from Sokovia and a little girl whose birth parents were still in high school. You were the last one, the only one she adopted as a baby.

“Is it offensive to call an artist splotchy?”

“It’s irrelevant. I haven’t painted in months,” you replied. “And we’re not kids anymore, you can use my name.”

“I’ve been calling you Splotchy for so long, I forgot your actual name.”

“You’re so funny,” you deadpanned. “What do you need, Scott?”

Scott’s tone changed suddenly, his voice grew agitated. “I need you to call Maggie. She isn’t picking up when I call her.”

“Scott,” you sighed.

“I haven’t talked to Cassie since her birthday,” he cut you off, pleading. “Please, I just want to talk to my little girl.”

Maggie was Scott’s ex-wife. Six months after his incarceration, she had filed for divorce. Natasha thought it was a real dick move but you didn’t blame Maggie. She was alone, her husband was in jail –for basically being a dumbass although the official charge was embezzlement and destruction of property- and she had a kid to raise.

Maggie wasn’t a saint but she was a good mother, and Cassie was a smart and healthy kid. Now you knew what to do with Bucky’s money.

“I’ll call her,” you said. “Listen, I’m going to put 50 bucks on your book. Buy yourself a bar of soap, I can smell you from here.” Scott interrupted you with a monotone ‘har har’. You chuckled. “I’ll buy Cassie a Christmas gift on your behalf, all right? I think she wanted a bike.”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you,” he chanted over the phone, his voice muffled as if he was holding the receiver too close to his mouth. “Are you sure you can afford it? I know it isn’t easy for you. Between living in New York and paying for mom’s nursing home, you don’t have to-”

“It’s fine,” you said, cutting off the conversation. “I’m not alone, Okoye helps.”

“And Wanda?”

“She sends postcards from time to time.”

The line went quiet for a moment. “I want to get out of here so bad,” Scott groaned. “Everything’s gone to shit since I went to jail.”

“Everything’s gone to shit since Pietro died, Scott.” You both remained silent, remembering your late brother. Just thinking about him made your eyes start to prickle with tears, so you cleared your throat and ended the call. “I’ll talk to Maggie. You’ll be out soon, just... stay out of trouble. Love you.”

You left your phone on the table and kicked off your shoes before you lay down on the sofa for a well-deserved nap. In your dreams your brothers weren’t either dead or in prison, your mother hadn’t been diagnosed with Alzheimer, and you weren’t a burden to your friend.

If you were lucky enough, you wouldn’t even dream at all.

The next day, Bucky arrived at the hotel at six thirty and you playfully glared at him from across the lounge. He wasn’t stupid, he knew why you were glaring at him. At least he had the decency to look a little sheepish.

“Just so you know, you bought yourself about 30 breakfasts,” you told him, referring to the far-too-generous tip he had left the other day.

“A man’s gotta eat,” he replied with a boyish cockiness that made him look stupidly attractive. You were too flustered to find a good comeback.

You brought him his cup of coffee and let him enjoy his breakfast while you attended to your other clients. It was an unusually busy day, the room was packed with families who were getting ready to explore Manhattan. You didn’t have time to chat with Bucky and he didn’t stay long. You saw him flinch a couple of times; the muscles in his shoulders pulled tight and his eyes darting left and right.

He left another ridiculously generous tip, along with a handwritten note. Breakfast is the most important meal of the day x.

Bucky came back the following week, and even though it was a quiet morning, you made sure to find him a table in a secluded spot. He didn’t notice when you slipped the 300 dollars into the pocket of his coat. You could be pretty sneaky, too.

“Mmmh,” he said, wiping his mouth with a napkin, “I looked at your Instagram.”

“Oh,” you glanced at your shoes, embarrassed. “Wait, you’re on Instagram? I have a hard time imagining you scrolling through your feed.”

He laughed a little. “I’ll admit I’m not as tech savvy as you youngsters, but I’m not a fossil. I use it to look at the pictures my sister post of my niblings.”

“Cute,” you grinned.

“Anyway,” he said, pushing a hand through his hair. “I love your work. It’s very unique; a cross between Impressionism and Post-impressionism. It’s realistic, and yet there’s something different...” his face scrunched up as he tried to look for the right word. “There’s something in your paintings, something that isn’t here in real life but perhaps should be. It’s hard to explain. It’s a feeling, a color, a pattern; it’s indiscernible but it’s there.” He looked up at you, his cheeks red with embarrassment. “I’m not making much sense, am I?”

You blinked, suddenly stunned that someone had such strong opinions about your work. There was nothing but sincerity in his ocean-blue eyes, and for a moment, you were at a loss for words.

“I, um-” you cleared your throat, “Thank you, I didn’t know that. I look up to Monet, obviously. His work is phenomenal, and I also have a soft spot for Van Gogh.” You ran a hand across your face. “Sorry, I’m a little emotional. The people who compliment my art are usually my siblings, and Nat.”

“And now me,” he said with a warm smile. “And soon a lot more people.”

Flustered, you bit your bottom lip. “That would be nice.”

Bucky nodded. He gathered his silverware and set them on his plate, trying to buy time. You watched him hesitate before he turned to you. “I noticed that your last post was from almost a year ago.”

“Yeah,” you said with a casual shrug. “I don’t really paint anymore. I’m too tired when I get home and supplies are expensive.”

“Of course,” he pursed his lips in thought. “Are you free this afternoon? I was wondering if we could meet for coffee.”

You tried not to show your surprise but his words made the sleeping butterflies in your stomach crack an eye open, their interest piqued.

Was he asking you out? He’d come to your workplace every week since your brief ‘date’. He always gave you more-than-generous tips, and he listened to you with a combination of close attention and warmth that made you weak at the knees.

He’d made it clear he wasn’t looking for anyone but maybe he had changed his mind. Agh, down girl! He just wanted a friend.

You looked into his beautiful eyes, seeing a myriad of expressions cross his face before he smiled at you.

“I ain’t gonna hurt you, angel.”

It was an honest lie, just hearing him call you angel felt like a punch to the stomach. The butterflies were dancing around, reborn, and chanting the word ‘date’.

“If you don’t like coffee, we can have tea, or ice cream,” he said, “anything as long as you can sit down with me.”

You snorted. “Okay.”

“Okay,” he repeated, smiling. “This is my number. Pick a place and I’ll meet you there.”

After breakfast, you closed the restaurant and started cleaning the Lounge. You brought everything back to the kitchen, stacked the dishes in the dishwasher and turned it on. Then you put away the unopened miniature jams, butter and whatnot, and gathered the remaining patisseries and fresh fruits in a basket that you would later bring to the reception.

You worked mechanically. It wasn’t exactly the most exciting job you’d ever had.

You couldn’t stop thinking about Bucky. It was easy to let your mind wander into the cosy and dangerous territory of this being a real date.

You decided to go to the Australian coffee shop near Natasha’s apartment. It was popular but not as crowded as Starbucks, which suited you fine.

After your shift, you removed your uniform and changed into the spare set of clothes you kept in your locker for emergencies. Emergencies being an impromptu date or a night out with Nat. You dug around in your purse for your lipstick; the nice one, the Carter Red as your mother called it.

You dabbed the lipstick on your lips, staining them. You only wore it on special occasions, and you weren’t sure Bucky deserved your full red pout.

You walked to the café with a little pep in your step and a confident smile on your face. The freezing temperature didn’t matter, you were too giddy to care. It was a date, it had to be, why else would he ask you to meet for coffee?  

You smiled when you saw him through the coffee shop window. He was chatting with the waiter as the latter set two mugs on the table.

“Hi again!” You shrugged out of your jacket and took a seat.

“I hope you like hot chocolate. Carl, here, says it’s their best seller,” Bucky said, smiling kindly at the waiter.

“Enjoy, and if you need anything else don’t hesitate to call me.”

You carefully wrapped your cold hands around your mug while you watched Carl walk away. A moment of silence rose between you. Bucky watched you with an unreadable expression, making you fidget in your seat.

“I’m glad you came,” he finally said.

“Me too. I’m a little surprised you asked.”

He looked down at his mug and smiled; it didn’t reach his eyes. “I have something to ask you.” He paused. “The night we met, you said you agreed to see me because being in a... financial relationship felt like the only solution to your problems.”

 Your smile faltered but he didn’t seem to notice. Oh. The butterflies in your stomach fell so suddenly that it felt like carrying a ball of lead. They went back into hibernation.  

“If I had been a decent person and, I don’t know, bought you a drink, talked to you,” he paused, meeting your eyes. “Would you have been interested in this type of relationship? With me, I mean.”

You swallowed hard. “You want to be my sugar daddy.”

It wasn’t a question but a statement. You were slowly realizing that you had been wrong about his intentions. This wasn’t a date, it was a business afternoon tea.

He winced. “Do we really have to call it that? I was thinking mentorship. I can provide financial help, and in exchange you could be my friend.”

“I can be your friend for free,” you said, your throat tightening.

He shrugged, a small smile on his lips. “This way we’ll both get something out of it.”

You looked down at your hands, still wrapped around the mug, and pursed your lips in thought. You felt a sharp tingling sensation in your nose, a sign that you were about to cry. You closed your eyes and clenched your jaw, fighting against the flood that was coming.

You pushed all the emotion down and forced a smile to your face. “Do you mind if I use the restroom? I just took the subway, I’d like to wash my hands.”

Bucky watched you, momentarily stunned by your request. “Of course, take your time,” he quickly recovered.

“Thanks,” you croaked, pushing your chair back.

You picked up your bag and walked to the restroom, your legs feeling like cotton wool. You didn’t need to use the restroom, you had walked to the café, but you needed a moment alone to collect yourself.

A woman came out of the restroom, holding the door open for you. You picked up the pace and thanked her before closing the door behind you. You looked pretty sickly under the artificial light of the restroom. Your eyes were glassy with tears and your red lips were taunting you.

“Got your hopes up, uh?” You watched your lips move. A little humourless chuckle escaped you and you shook your head at your own idiocy.

You aggressively wiped the lipstick off your mouth with the back of your hand and sighed deeply as you looked at your reflection in the mirror. Now you felt like an idiot.

It wasn’t Bucky’s fault. He had been nothing but nice and kind, and perhaps you had mistaken his kindness for flirting. A naïve mistake. You had always been a little clueless when it came to men.

You ran your index fingers under your eyes to get rid of the makeup that had gathered there. It wasn’t the end of the world, you barely knew him anyway. It didn’t hurt any less, though.

Maybe it was time for you to do something out of character, to experience life no matter how crazy it seemed. You were dreading this conversation with Bucky, but you couldn’t hide in the restroom forever. With another sigh, you pushed yourself away from the sink and walked out of the restroom.

Part 4

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #marvel #marvel fanfiction #marvel imagines #bucky barnes imagines #bucky barnes fanfiction #marvel imagine #bucky barns imagine #redgillan #redgillanwrites

[margarethx]

I feel like one of the reasons why Sam and Bucky work with each other so well as a duo in is the fact that they are at the same (or almost the same) level of importance when it comes to the MCU. They are in a similar position as characters.

Let me explain...

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Before tfatws Sam Wilson was a character from the background. He is important for the overall storyline, but he’s not at the front of any movie. Even in ca:tws he was less relevant to the plot than e.g. Natasha. He’s necessary and there is a significant reason he’s there at all, but at the end of the day it’s a Steve Rogers’ movie. Not Sam’s. And even if calling Sam a sidekick is most of the time insulting - at least within the MCU - he kind of is a sidekick. That’s the role he has in the narrative. There’s a main hero (Steve) and a guy who follows his lead to help (Sam). Of course Sam has his own life and issues that have nothing to do with Steve, but we don’t even know them at this point. And here we’re looking at Sam through the lense of the Captain America movies.

Almost every scene with Sam before tfatws was connected to Steve. Sam joined the fight in ca:tws to help Steve. He was in AoU, because Steve invited him to Stark’s party. He was in Civil War, because Steve asked him to join the Avengers and he wanted to help Steve with finding Bucky... Similarly, Sam had his own opinions in Civil War, but we only hear them when it’s relevant to Steve’s story. (When Sam and Rhodey argue about the Accords they stand behind Steve, because the scene is about him making the decision.)  Even in Ant-Man, where there is no Steve at all, Sam mentions him after Scott left. Etc, etc. You get the picture.

And the same goes for Bucky.

We only see him in ca:tfa where his story is intertwined with Steve’s. When Steve gets his ass kicked before he got the serum. Or when they go to the Expo. Or when they fight during the war. Even when Bucky is saved by Steve it’s less about him being finally free and more about Steve finding his friend again. In ca:tws their meeting is told mostly from Steve’s perspective. It’s a film about Steve facing the Winter Soldier not the other way round. And later viewers don’t see Bucky’s life as a fugative untill the moment he becomes important to Steve’s storyline again in Civil War. And so on and so forth. It goes like that basically from Bucky’s first appearance in the MCU to the last scenes of Endgame.

When Steve and Bucky are fighting on the same side Bucky’s role could also be described as: “a sidekick”. Just like Sam’s.

----- ------- -----

And I honestly believe that this is the reason why pairing Sam and Bucky together makes so much sense. Even if you put aside the obvious chemistry between the characters and their actors it just works for them to join forces in multiple scenes.

Both of them walked in Steve’s shadow before they got their own show. Not because they’re less interesting as characters or because Steve’s storyline is better, but because Steve is one of the main heroes in the entire MCU while Sam and Bucky were always orbiting around him in a way. And we, as the viewers, learnt very little about them outside of the stuff that was important for their relationships with Cap.

Why do we know about Sam losing Riley? Because Steve also lost someone who fell to their death. Why do we see Bucky killing Stark’s parents? Because it’s a movie about Steve’s conflict with Tony (mostly) and it’s just one of many things that makes the conflict worse. I’m not implying it’s unfair to the characters or something (even though I’d love to see them having more sceentime in general)... It’s just the role they serve in a story, because someone has to be in that position for the narrative to flow. You cannot make every character “the main one”. That wouldn’t really work.

----- ------- -----

But then... When Sam and Bucky are together we suddenly see much more about both of them outside of their connection with Steve. It’s almost like destiny how they always end up in close proximity. They seem to naturally gravitate towards each other ever since they’ve met. And it looks like taking them away from a big, important character (Steve) makes them shine brighter. Most of the little moments they shared became iconic at some point when they were just allowed to exist together.

And again... I’m not saying that I don’t enjoy seeing their interactions with Steve, because I do. Especially Sam’s. But it very often feels like they interact with each other because it’s important for the progression of the plot. When Steve talks with Sam it’s often about their next mission, or how Sam helps him with something, or to show that Steve has difficulties with adjusting to the modern world. And when Steve talks with Bucky (at least after ca:tfa) I always feel like there should be a narrator’s voice talking over a scene, telling me: “see? they were friends in the past, before the war... this is important! pay attention”.

Meanwhile, when Sam and Bucky interact, some scenes just... happen for no purpose. Like they interact, because they want to, not because the script told them to. There’s absolutely no plot-related reason for showing Sam and Bucky sitting in that tiny car in Germany. Or for showing them standing together in Infinity War when Thanos attacks.

What the two of them have is completely different from what they had with Steve in the past.

----- ------- -----

To be honest, it always bothered me a little how Steve never really did anything for Sam (freeing him from prison where Sam landed for helping Steve doesn’t count). It’s always Sam making Steve feel better and standing by his side. So it’s a very glaring contrast, when we got to see a whole separate montage where Bucky visits Sam and helps him fix the boat that was important to his family. Or when he casually throws a shield with him for practice, asks Sam if he’s okay, and brings him a new super-hero suit even though Sam never even asked for these favours or suggested that he needs Bucky’s help.

And I know that some people won’t like what I’m about to say, but Steve and Bucky really don’t act like they are particularly close to each other most of the time (especially after their first movie). I believe that they were friends before everything went to shit, but after ca:tws? Not really. They cling to that label, because of their shared story and because Steve cannot let go of the past, but they just... don’t act like they are friends anymore. It’s like they both changed too much and don’t know how to deal with that. So they don’t. It’s like Steve is only attached to some past version of Bucky that no longer exists and the new Bucky doesn’t fully match his expectations. Sam on the other hand has no expectations at all. He builds his relationship with Bucky from the fresh foundations. The creators don’t need to bring back some shared memories from 70 years ago to prove that these two have a strong connection. They just show them doing stuff together. The argument about The Big Three? Petty revange over a car seat? Discussing music tastes? Having “sleepovers” and giving each other slightly mean, but harmless nicknames? Discussing mental health? Having staring contests? Watching goddamn sunsets? That’s what people who are close to each other do.

And that’s why these two simply... work.

It’s not just implied or explained in a flashback. “Look, viewer. They are friends. I know they don’t act like they are, but trust me. They went for a dinner a decade ago... offscreen.” Sam and Bucky even refused to call themselves friends! They’re a couple of guys (allegedly). And yet I still know they like each other very much from the way they interact, speak about each other, or look at each other.

And I really think that one of the main reason’s why it works like that is because they’re both equally crucial (or irrelevant at times) for the story. Both are just as (un)necessary for the plot to move on. Sometimes they are very important and sometimes the plot would easily work without them. ca:tws could’ve happen without Sam. Civil War could’ve technically happen without Bucky if they put more emphasis on the Accords. There were both certainly unnecessary in Infinity War or Endgame. But there’s no way the events in tfatws would’ve happen without both of them being there together. Sam might’ve never taken the shield and become Captain America if it wasn’t for Bucky. Bucky would’ve spent countless years trying and failing to make amends and never finding peace if it wasn’t for Sam. The fandom likes to focus on only Bucky, but you wouldn’t get this much content about him if there was no Sam to share the story with him.

Because they just fit together perfectly.

----- ------- -----

Last disclaimer (because I really don’t want people to get the wrong impression): I actually like Steve. And I like Samsteve (romantically or platonically). Platonic Stevebucky is alright too. But it just kind of... pales in comparison when you see what Sam and Bucky have. Most MCU relationships pale in comparison if I’m being honest.

#i don't know if anything i said makes sense #sam wilson #samuel thomas wilson #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes #steve rogers #captain america #captain america sam wilson #the falcon #winter soldier #white wolf #sambucky #sam x bucky #winterfalcon #tfatws #caatws #the falcon and the winter soldier #mcu #marvel

[enkelimagnus]

Delacroix

Bucky Barnes Gen, 2565 words, rated T

Jewish Bucky Barnes, The Falcon and the Winter Soldier: Episode 5 Truth

Bucky spends a few days in Delacroix with Sam and his family. On one evening, as they both have a beer before dinner, watching the sun set, they have a conversation about life, about therapy, about work.

TW: US healthcare system and the military industrial complex, mental health

Read on AO3

Part 33 of Making a Home - the Jewish Bucky series

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Sam’s family house is more of a home than anything Bucky’s lived in since he was deployed.

It’s warm and luminous, with big windows and light paint on the wood and the walls. There’s a poarch where they all end up sitting at the end of the day, when the sun sets over the bayou. The walls outside are blue and the roof is red. There are crayon drawings stuck with magnets to the fridge and mismatched furniture and containers. It’s been lived in, loved in.

A few days after his surprise arrival, Bucky stops feeling like a blood stain on the tapestry of life of the Wilson home.

Sarah’s nice and warm. He immediately takes a liking to her, and her to him, and he can see how much that infuriates Sam. What can he say? She’s a gorgeous woman, funny and bright and caring and her smile is honestly the kind that probably stopped a few hearts in her lifetime. Yes, she’s his sister, but he still has eyes, and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t at least show appreciation. Besides, she seems to enjoy it. He’d stop the second he’d sense uncomfort.

He hasn't gotten to flirt and be comfortable with flirting in a really long time. It seems to be the same for her. What if they’re just… enjoying the flirtation? And enjoying infuriating Sam? Bucky considers it his duty as Sam’s friend.

Delacroix is unlike anywhere he’s ever been. It’s half an island and half a town. It’s relaxing. And the food… Bucky doesn’t think he’s eaten as much seafood in his life as he had in the past week.

It’s a slow end of day in Louisiana when Bucky and Sam find themselves sitting on the plastic chairs out back, with beers, watching the surface of the water. There’s music playing in the house, the kids are doing their homework.

It’s simple. Bucky breathes in and out, unobstructed.

He hears Sam’s intake of breath and knows a hard conversation is coming from that alone. No, that’s a lie. Sam’s shifted, ten seconds ago. He’s looked between his beer and the water four times in the past minute.

“We haven’t had time to talk about Madripoor,” Sam starts and Bucky immediately tenses.

He’d almost forgotten he’d told Sam they’d talk about that later. Because still, he’s not ready to talk about it. He’s not ready to talk about that part of his past. It’s still an infected wound in him. It’s still hurting. He can’t do it. He’s about to say that when Sam holds up his hand.

“We don’t have to talk about it,” he says, surprisingly. “I don’t need to know shit if you’re not ready to tell.”

Bucky goes back to breathing. It’s a reprieve. Even if one day, Sam might expect him to be ready… it’s extra time. He’s so thankful for it.

“I’ll tell you though,” Sam keeps going. “You need a new therapist. Because if I know one thing, after everything, and what I saw in that precinct? it’s that Raynor’s not working for you. You need better. You deserve better.”

Bucky looks up at him then. Sam is looking at the water, but there is that look on his face. The look of determination, of drive, the look that Bucky knows… there’s no use in trying to go against what he is saying now.

No one has ever told him he deserved better.

He’s told himself that a few times, in the few moments where the clouds parted and he didn’t feel like the worst person in the world.

But he doesn’t think anyone has ever told him that. Even Steve. There was a couple ‘you deserved better’, but they were all in the past tense, all regarding Hydra, not Bucky’s current situation. Because his current situation is good. It’s great, compared to the past seventy years. Maybe even compared to what was there before. Because he doesn’t break his back in the factory during the day and in the docks at night anymore.

He’s so silent and shocked Sam just keeps going.

“And don’t give me bullshit about not needing help or whatever. I know your generation didn’t do therapy but that ain’t gonna fly with me. You deserve a therapist suited to your needs, and I know that’s gonna be hard to find, with your trunkload of decades of trauma, but we’ll find them.”

He says it with such determination, like it’s his new personal mission. He has much better to do than try to help Bucky more than he already has, and yet… Sam looks at him finally, for a long moment.

“Raynor’s not a bad doctor,” he says. “She’s just not the right fit. And that’s not uncommon. We just need to find you someone that’s better. And someone that’s not me. Because I can’t be your friend and your therapist, man. And out of the two, I’d much rather be your friend.”

Bucky’s still staring. He doesn’t know how to handle this. Nowhere in his databank of social interactions is there something that prepares him for this. He’s had long talks with people before, hell, even with fucking Zemo, but this is entirely different and he has no idea how to handle it.

“I’m sure you’re a great therapist,” Bucky says quietly after a moment, before he takes a big swig of a beer.

Sam chuckles, shaking his head. “You do realize I ain’t a therapist right? I’m a counselor.”

“You’ll have to give me the difference on that because we were still using alienist the last time I heard about psychoanalysis,” Bucky points out.

“There isn’t much of one. I guess I’m more about… finding practical solutions for people to deal with their trauma than really knowing the root cause of it. Probably because, since I worked with the VA, I knew what the root was.”

Bucky hums, nodding. That makes sense to him. More than the ‘how does that make you feel’s. “Either way, I’m still sure you’re a great counselor.”

“It ain’t difficult, with your experience,” Sam shrugs, watching him. “You don’t know better, old man.”

Bucky snorts at that, watching the water again. Sometimes, his eyes catch motion, but he’s never sure if it’s wildlife under the surface or just a trick of the light.

AJ and Cass seem to be debating with their mother whether they can finish their homework later, after dinner. Bucky barely knows them, but he already knows it won’t actually get done if they follow their plan. Kids are kids. Bucky’s sisters could never finish their homework after the radio show either. Too distracted, too tired.

He turns his attention back on Sam after a moment.

“Walker is in a bad shape,” Bucky says quietly. “Now, and before Hoskins died too. The second we saw him in Germany, I felt it. That guy didn’t get help.”

Sam sighs heavily. “Yeah. Not enough of them do, when they come back. You wouldn’t, if you weren’t forced to.”

Bucky can’t deny it. “Yeah, but I’m 107.”

If Sam noticed the year added to his age, he doesn’t mention it. At least for now.

“Some of it hasn’t changed that much,” Sam explains. “The army… You know that culture of toughness, right? Gotta be strong, gotta be a man. Can’t cry, can’t show you’re struggling. I’m sure they had that shit too, in your day, probably even worse.”

He’s not wrong. There were a lot of issues in his day but that was part of things. Emotional outbursts that weren’t from anger were frowned upon. Once they got to the war, it was even worse at first, until it started really getting hard. And then there were two options. Either you fucking cry with your buddies, or you end badly. Bucky had Steve, and the Howlies.

“Men like Walker… Because they’re these tough white guys, they’re encouraged to be like that. Aggressive, emotionally-closed off, fight-hungry. They’re the ones that shove you and call you a pussy for not laughing at their frankly horrible offensive jokes. It’s like they think the trauma we all face just won’t touch them. Or that they can’t show anyone it touched them. So they keep it all in. And the only way they get to be… emotional is in combat.”

Bucky nods quietly. They’re worse off than he thought.

It wasn’t good in his day either, but it just feels worse now. It churned and churned and got bigger with every spin, and now it’s all a giant fucked up stick of trauma cotton candy, all twisted in itself and sticking to itself.

“When I work for the SRT… Sometimes I see these kids,” Bucky mumbles. “They’re what? 22? And I ask them why they’re here, you know, try to pass time. And they tell me they enlisted for college. Or healthcare. And it’s…” He closes his eyes. “It’s been eighty fucking years…”

He takes a swig of the beer again, shaking his head. “When the crash hit, in the 30s, things were bad. No one could afford shit, there was polio, there was syphilis… It was really bad. And they made plans. They tried to get healthcare on the way, and they half succeeded. And more than like… two thirds of the population was for it too. And we had basically none of the resources we have now.”

He looks up at Sam for a moment. “It hurts to see… that it’s still… We’re still here. At least on that issue. On other stuff… Rights and all, that’s getting better.” He finishes. “But healthcare… and college…” He shakes his head. “It’s criminal. That’s what it is. It feels criminal.”

Sam bumps his shoulder with his fist, chuckling. “Don’t say shit like that next to journalists, they’ll say the Soviets put communism in your brain along with the murdering.”

Bucky chuckles at that. “Nah. That was all America. Living in it. Dying for it.”

Behind them, AJ and Cass have lost their battle of wits with their mother.

“You happy with what you’re doing?” Sam asks after a moment.

Bucky takes a deep breath. The answer is easy. “No,” he mutters. “But I don’t have a say in the matter. Until they decide I’ve done enough to undo the damage I perpetrated as the Soldier… I’m gonna be clearing Hydra safehouses. And after the shit I pulled with Zemo, I’m gonna be at it for a while longer, I think. But… I was expecting that.”

He can feel Sam’s eyes on him. “You knew what would happen.”

“Yep. On all accounts. With the Dora Milaje, with you, with Walker, with the U.S. government, and the GRC, and everything… Still did it.”

Sam huffs loudly. “Stubborn ass.” He shakes his head. He’s smiling, beautifully, brightly.

Bucky smiles at that. “You know it. Wouldn’t be alive without it.”

The sun is starting to set over the bayou. Every evening, Bucky finds himself thinking he’s never seen anything quite like it before.

“Whatever happens,” Sam points out after a moment, looking down at his empty beer bottle. “You got a couch here. Somewhere to crash. Somewhere to rest. I don’t know what your situation is, up north.”

Bucky sighs a little. “I got a house,” he answers, looking back at him. “A townhouse, in Brooklyn.”

Sam’s eyebrows rise up to meet the descending sun. “Well excuse us, mister.” He teases.

Bucky shakes his head. “It’s not like that,” he starts. Sam looks even less like he takes him seriously. “It’s a former Hydra safehouse,” he adds, and now his friend’s eyes get a little sadder, a little darker. “The army got tired of me taking space in their housing, so the second we raided a place within proper commute distance, they handed it over to me.”

Said like that, it sounds even worse than it actually was.

“It wasn’t like.. Full of Nazi or Hydra shit, or anything. It was just a house. They got rid of the bodies.”

The emotional journey on Sam’s face as he talks is worth a good dozen of sunrises.

“And you live there?” Sam asks. He’s struggling not to let his bewilderment and horror show, but he’s failing.

It makes sense. It sounds like an absolutely terrible situation to be in. It is an absolutely terrible situation to be in. As much as owning a townhouse in Brooklyn can be terrible.

It’s been about four months now since he signed those papers and moved his bag of things into that pretty house with the marks in the doorways and the basement he still hasn’t stepped foot in. And now that he’s been away long enough…

He guesses he kinda misses it.

He doesn’t miss the house in itself, much. He does miss… everything else though. Charlie, Miriam, the neighbor whose name he still doesn’t know, the familiar commute, the Chinese place he gets a lot of very late night food at, the proximity to his childhood streets, the way life feels there. He misses his night jogs in the relative quiet. He misses the weather, and the oven he baked kugel in for the first time.

Brooklyn has become familiar again, in all of its differences with his memories.

And he didn’t even realize it was happening.

“You should come, one of these days,” Bucky shrugs. “I have a couple guest bedrooms.”

Sam punches him lightly in the shoulder. “Fancy ass ‘couple of guest bedrooms’.” He teases and Bucky smiles. “So I’m guessing I should try and find some good therapists for you in New York then,” he adds.

Bucky shrugs lightly. “I feel like… I have some stuff tethering me there.”

Sam’s expression shifts for an instant. “Like the SRT?”

Bucky shakes his head. “Nah. Like my childhood congregation, that somehow still exists, and has a shul not too far from where I live.” He points out.

“Shul?” Sam asks.

Bucky smiles lightly when he looks up at him. A few days ago, Sam spoke of his teetee and Bucky probably made the same face Sam’s making now.

“Synagogue,” Bucky explains. “Jewish temples. Shul’s yiddish.”

Sam makes a small ‘ah’ sound and nods. For a moment, they’re silent again. The noises of the world around them aren’t threatening to overwhelm them though, they’re… comforting. A warm tapestry in the background.  

“You’re Jewish, I take it?”

“No, I’m Mormon,” Bucky replies with the straightest face he can muster before chuckling.

Sam punches him again, a little harder this time. “Come on, dude.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m Jewish.”

That’s the first time he says that out loud in… He’s never said it like that ever. This is the first time in his life that he says it that way. The first time he’s not afraid of the outcome of such an admission.

It’s a heady, wonderful feeling. He never thought he’d ever be comfortable enough to do that. Somehow, he might have Zemo to thank for that. Zemo and his fucking questioning. Not that he’s going to be asking much more questions from the Raft.

He’s Jewish. That’s a truth that doesn’t deserve to be hidden right now. Not when he can carry it. Not when he is strong enough to bear it proudly. He feels like his heart is going to burst with something he cannot name.

“Did Steve know?”

Bucky bursts out laughing.

#bucky barnes #sam wilson #jewish bucky barnes #jbu #marvel #mine #fic