#sam wilson fanfiction
Made of Ashes
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female!reader
Prompt: Faking your death wasn’t an easy thing to do, but SHIELD said that it had to be done. But you couldn’t stay out of the life you were born to have, even if it was risky. Even if it brought you face to face with the people who still believed that you were dead. Based off of “My Tears Ricochet” by Taylor Swift
Warnings: ANGST, a teensy bit of fluff, language, violence, gore, discussions of death (obviously)
Word Count: 5.1k
A/N: We did it, boys, we’ve found another hyperfixation. Let’s see how long this lasts. Anyway, my tag lists and requests and DMs are always open! Hope you enjoy!
Death was never a foreign thing to you. It seemed to linger, its presence permeating every interaction and movement as if to remind you that you never know what could happen.
Just because it wasn’t unfamiliar didn't mean that it wasn’t miserable, though. You’ve lost so many friends, family, and everything in-between and it never seemed to get any better.
You knew how painful it was, but you could never imagine the pain that you felt when you witnessed your own funeral. When you watched the people you love grieve over you while you were only feet from them but couldn’t comfort them.
You had watched their tears streak down their faces as they stared ahead at the closed casket, their cheeks glistening under the rays of sun that shone down on them. You watched their hands tremble as they showered individual roses onto the gleaming mahogany lid before returning to their seats with their heads bowed low. You watched the light sheen of sweat build on their skin that made them wonder if this heat was comparable to what you had felt.
They were told that you were caught in a building that Hydra had bombed, pinned underneath the falling debris as the flames rose as engulfed you. They were told that your body couldn’t be found, that it was most likely hidden under all of the rubble or turned to ash. They had to bury an empty casket.
The word had spread fast, and the wake that they’d planned on being a small gathering became flooded with familiar faces from around the galaxy. Basically everyone was there, eyes damp and hearts heavy.
In a car tucked away from the wake but still in view of it, you and Maria Hill watched their grieving in silence. “This is all for your safety,” she had explained to you, but the guilt of what she had to do was still lingering. You had nodded along to her word, but your mind was in another place.
It was stuck in a whirlwind of panic, hurt, and confusion as you stared at the man who kept his distance from the crowd of Avengers, but his shoulders still shook with sobs as your casket was lowered into the ground. The man who gave you heaven and gave you hell. The man you swore you’d love until you died, even if you were already dead to him in his mind.
And to him, it was true.
You and Bucky had met when he was still the Winter Soldier, when he had dragged Steve from the water and dropped his limp body directly at your feet. You remember staring at him in a panic, unknowing of what he would do to you. He had stared you directly in the eye and gave you a nod before walking past you, leaving you with a seemingly-lifeless Steve.
That small, but meaningful, interaction had led you on a manhunt of sorts, devoting your free time to finding this “Bucky” that Steve spoke so fondly of.
After a couple of months, you came across a reported sighting of the Winter Soldier in Bucharest, though the man was not hostile. Immediately, you booked a flight there and, without telling another person, snuck off to find this supposed Winter Soldier.
You found him at a small market in the middle of town, your eyes locking with his as he lifted his gaze. The panic he felt from being seen was evident, but that panic seemed to melt away as a smile grew on your lips. He was still on alert, though, as you crossed the street and walked over to him. It was clear that he recognized you, but your gentle demeanor gave him a strange sense of comfort.
That first meeting had slowly built up to monthly visits that lasted for days at a time, the two of you nurturing a relationship that was kept hidden from the word, especially the Avengers.
The day that Bucky’s past life came rushing back, the two of you were on one of your monthly “dates,” as you’d jokingly called it.
The blue of his eyes had drawn you in for a moment too long, prompting a chuckle from him. You rolled your eyes and pursed your lips, turning your face from his so he couldn’t detect the blush blooming on your cheeks. “What, I can’t admire the beautiful sight before me?” you defensively hummed in Romanian, crossing your arms over your chest as your examined the baskets of fruit in front of you.
“I never said that,” he teased, playfully bumping your shoulder with his before turning to the woman running the fruit stand and asking her a few questions.
The woman handed Bucky a bag of plums and you both thanked her before walking down the street. “Plums?”
He nodded, shrugging slightly. “I figured we could make something with them.”
“I think there’s still some phyllo dough in the fridge.” He nodded, but his attention was clearly elsewhere. You followed his line of sight and saw a man sitting in a newspaper hut staring worriedly at Bucky. You touched his right arm and the two of you exchanged a glance before making your way over to the man. The moment he noticed the two of you stepping towards him, he retreated back before running out of his hut.
Bucky pulled the newspaper the man was reading off of the surface it rested on and held it out in front of him.
“Winter Soldier Cautat Pentru Bombardmentul Din Vienna”
“Bucky,” you spoke slowly, forcing yourself to tear your eyes from the paper so you could look up at his visibly shaken face.
“We need to go,” he grumbled, placing the paper face down and gripping onto your forearm.
The two of you walked at a hurried pace down the street that led up to his apartment, trying to seem as inconspicuous as possible despite the fact that you both were shivering with fear.
After climbing the multiple flights of stairs with no one in sight, the tension slowly began to dissolve from the naive belief that they may not have tracked him down yet. His grip had loosened on your arm, as well, signifying that the fear had began to die down in his mind as well. The two of you silently slipped inside and closed the door behind you, letting out a soft sigh of relief when you could see that the apartment was empty. That breath hitched in your throat, though, when a pair of heavy footsteps echoed through the stairwell just outside the door.
You nodded towards the bathroom door and he quickly pulled you into the small room, closing the door and tucking your form behind him. The creaking front door swung open and shut, and a shadow passed across the crack of the bathroom door. You gripped tightly onto the arm of Bucky’s canvas jacket and he placed his hand over yours, giving you a gentle nod. He led the two of you out of the bathroom and into the open space of the studio apartment, keeping your eyes trained on the familiar figure standing at the fridge that made your stomach turn.
After speaking out to what was most likely a voice in his ear, he turned on his heel to face you two.
You could tell from the look of pure bewilderment on his face that he absolutely was not expecting you to be there. “Y/N?” Steve questioned.
You gave him an awkward smile and a wave. “Hi,” you hummed with a simple nod.
A wave of emotions crossed over his face and he let out a sigh. “We don’t have time to talk about this right now.”
After the chase that led you, Bucky, Steve, and King T’Challa in prison, and the prison break that took place afterward, Bucky had kept his distance from you. He became cold, calloused to you. You figured that it was due to the stress of being framed for a crime he didn’t commit and the man who did commit it trying to tap into the Winter Soldier, but that didn't mean that it didn’t hurt. You’d spent months working on a relationship with this man who you loved more than you’d care to admit, all for it to be gone within moments.
But it didn’t go away, even after everything was taken care of and Bucky had came back to you.
The bright smile on your face couldn’t be suppressed when Steve and Bucky had came into view, both of them clearly exhausted from everything that had occurred. That exhaustion was tucked away, though, when Steve saw you standing there, and he quickly headed over to you and pulled you into a tight hug. You took his affection gratefully, the two of you chatting with equally wide smiles.
After about a minute or two, Steve told you that he had something to do before quickly slipping out of the room, leaving you and Bucky alone. Bucky stood a good distance from you, avoiding your gaze and keeping his stance rigid. It was obvious that he was still hurting, but you figured that your presence could cheer him up.
“Bucky,” you sighed, hurrying over to him and reaching out for a hug.
He turned away from your embrace, keeping his eyes on the ground and his face emotionless.
“Buck?” You dropped your arms to your sides, brows furrowing in confusion as you attempted to search his face. He gave no expression, and you gave up on his face, instead glancing at his robotic arm that was no longer there. “Oh my god, your arm.”
“It’s fine,” he huffed, stepping away to stare out the floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the landscape of Wakanda.
He was shutting you out, acting more rigid than he did when you two first met. Your lips pressed together as you walked over to the windows, keeping a few feet of distance between you two. “It’s beautiful here-”
“God, do you ever take a fucking hint?”
You jumped from the tone of his voice, giving him a look of shock while his face, still, stayed flat. “What?”
“I don’t want you here. I want you to leave me alone.”
His words made your heart sink to your shoes, but there was a pestering itch in the back of your mind that made you push him further. “You don’t mean that.”
He stepped forward until you were backed up against the glass, placing an arm on each side of your body and caging you in. “Don’t I?” He let out a huff, eyes trained on yours which were brimming with tears. “You’ve ruined whatever chance I had at being normal. You found me, you led everyone to me, and you got me sucked back into all of this bullshit.”
You shook your head. “I just wanted to help.”
He scoffed. “You sure helped a lot.”
You blinked back the tears and clenched your jaw, giving him a look of spite. You averted your gaze for a moment, eyes catching on the small black cord that peeked out from his shirt. The cord that was so familiar because it was a necklace you’d gifted him. You let out a huff before shoving his arm out of your way and stomping away down the expansive hall.
On your way to your room that T’Challa had given you the key to earlier, you ran into Sam, who immediately noticed the anger and pain radiating off of you. “Whoa, whoa, cool it on the stomping there. You might just smash through the floor,” he teased and gripped your arm with a smile, but it fell when his eyes searched yours. “What’s wrong?”
“Go ask Bucky, because I sure as shit have no clue.”
Months after you’d left Bucky in Wakanda, your “funeral” had taken place, and it pained you that you were never able to resolve the issues that had divided you two.
You tried your hardest to live your life as normal (well, as normally as you could while staying as underground as possible and basically living a completely different life than the one you previously had), but that plan had crumbled and turned to dust like half of the planet. You’d lost Hill and Fury, the only people who knew that you were still alive and were actively working to keep you safe. At first, it was horrifying to know that no one would be watching your every move as you’d grown so used to it. But as time went on and you realized that you had to be somewhat present in society, you had finally felt the freedom that you’ve been held from for years.
You lived life under the new identity that Hill and Fury had previously given you (Sandra McMahan, 27, unemployed, living in Boston, Massachusetts), but you couldn’t give in to the normal life that was at your fingertips, so close yet so far away. Instead, you launched yourself headfirst into researching all of the people who turned to dust. It was clear that it was a result from something that the Avengers fought due to the multiple sightings of spacecrafts that were documented on Stark’s databases, but it proved to be much more devastating than you could’ve guessed.
All of your friends were either dead or missing, and you couldn’t help but feel the immense guilt from the thought that you could’ve saved them.
Five years had come and gone in a haze of misery and loneliness, each day blurring into the previous day and the next day. You tried your hardest to participate in a society that was struggling to cope with the devastating loss that had occurred, but most days you had failed to get out of bed.
You still vividly remember the day of the blip, when the billions of people who’d vanished into thin air had reappeared just as quickly and in the same exact state. You remember the amalgamation of cheers and cries as people were reunited with their loved ones, all while you watched them from your 10th floor window in your dingy little apartment.
The databases were updated at that point, displaying who had come back. Of course, there were still a few people whose status never changed, and no matter how long you refreshed the page in hopes that it would switch from “missing” to a blank spot where that word once sat, it didn’t. Instead, it changed from “missing” to “deceased.”
Hill and Fury had tried to get back in contact with you, but you ignored their messages, instead choosing to look deeper into the reappearance of one man.
You’d watched Bucky from a distance, lingering in the shadows as you went along with all of daily activities. Going to the grocery stores, spending Wednesdays at an asian restaurant with a man you didn’t recognize, and attending this weekly therapy appointments. His routines were, well, routine, until the day that he and Sam traveled to the Raft to break out the man who nearly landed Bucky in that same prison. They’d escaped successfully, and their movements brought you to Madripoor, a place that instantly settled a heavy weight in the pit of your stomach.
The dress you wore in that dark and musty bar was itchy and the stares you earned from it made your skin crawl, but you bit your tongue and kept a straight face as you tucked yourself away into a dark corner. The doubt that itched in the back of your mind of how the three men would show kept growing stronger and stronger, only for it to shift into pure terror as Bucky and Sam walked in with that bastard.
Bucky’s face was as still and hollow as it was the first day you met him, that hauntingly empty look that made your insides churn. But that churning was incomparable to the bile that bubbled in your chest as he attacked men at Zemo’s word, his actions harsh and merciless.
Silently, the three men were led into a back room by an armed man, and once the trio disappeared into the room, you overtook the man and disarmed him. You gripped the gun in your hands and stood just outside of the room, still lingering within earshot.
Zemo and who you assumed to be Selby discussed some sort of contract that had to do with the super soldier serum, of which he offered Bucky as payment for information on where to get the serum. The discussion was cut short by Sam’s phone ringing, which snowballed into a situation much bigger than they were expecting.
As Selby ordered for them to be killed, a gunshot rang through the air and Selby’s words were cut short. After attacking the guards that surrounded the room, the three men escaped out the back door, and you followed them. The road leading out from the bar proved just as treacherous as another spray of gunfire sounded from all around, and you all sprinted down the narrow street and into an attached back alley.
You shot down the two motorcyclists that had followed them in and stepped out of the shadows, gun trained on Zemo as your hands shook with fury. “Disarm him,” you spat, finger hovering over the trigger.
“Y/N?” Sam spoke, voice laced with shock.
“Power him down, Zemo,” you continued, ignoring the shocked looks from Sam and Bucky. “I will not hesitate to blow your fucking brains out!”
“Drop the gun” Bucky roared, making you jump.
“Well, this is too perfect,” a woman’s voice echoed, standing in the space next to you and aiming her gun at Zemo. “Drop it, Zemo.”
Zemo slowly lowered his gun to the ground and held his hands in the air, retreating back as the other two men walked forward. “Sharon?” Bucky spoke.
“You cost me everything.”
“Sharon, wait-” Sam pleaded.
The four of them bickered while you stepped back and lowered your gun to your side, trying to catch up with everything that was going on while also trying to comprehend why Bucky was with Zemo, why he acted like he was the Winter Soldier.
Sharon’s offer of refuge seemed to draw everyone in, but as they all began to walk, Bucky turned to you and gripped both of your biceps in his hands, forcing you to drop your weapon. He backed you up into the brick wall and tightened his jaw, the rough material scraping against your exposed back. “Bucky,” you cried out.
“Who are you?” he hissed, pulling you close to him before swiftly slamming you back against the wall, knocking the breath from your lungs.
“Bucky, it’s me. It’s Y/N. Please.”
“Y/N is dead.” Sam appeared behind him and rested a hand on his shoulder, but he shrugged it off. “Who. The fuck. Are you.”
“Bucky, we don’t have time for this!” Sam snapped. “She’s coming with us, let’s go.”
You silently pleaded with Sam but he walked away, allowing Bucky to wrestle both of your arms behind your back and walk you to the car.
As Sharon and Sam and Zemo conversed, Bucky dragged you into the first room he saw and threw you inside, locking the door behind him.
You let out a hiss of pain as you pushed yourself up into a sitting position, glancing dow nat the rug burn on your palms before looking up at Bucky. “Buck, come on, it’s me,” you begged, watched as he leaned against the wall that faced you.
“Don’t call me that,” he hissed, lips pursed tightly. “Who are you and why are you here? How did you find me?”
You spoke slowly, “Bucky, it’s Y/N Y/L/N. We met in Bucharest, we were... We were best friends, until...”
“What, until I went to Wakanda or until you died?”
“They made me fake my death, Buck, it wasn’t my choice. They made me hide away from everybody for what they said was my own safety. They said that I could be used by Hydra to get secrets about everyone, about you.” You let out a trembling sigh. “I’ve been hiding for seven fucking years. I’ve been alone for seven years.”
He looked away from you, gliding his tongue over his bottom row of teeth before pulling his bottom lip between his teeth.
“You cut your hair,” you spoke after a moment’s silence.
“You came back from the dead.”
“So did you.”
He shot a glare at you, standing up straight and walking over to sit in a chair on the other side of the room. Hesitantly, you rose to your feet and walked over to him, leaving about 10 feet of distance between you two. “How did you find me?”
“Stark’s databases. They said that you were getting court-mandated therapy in New York City, so I went there, and I guess I just followed you from there.”
“Why...” He cleared his throat. “Why didn’t you talk to me?”
“Well, first of all, I couldn’t. I didn’t want to risk you getting hurt because of my selfishness.” You sat in the chair adjacent to his. “And I figured that it would be best that I stayed away from you since you despised me.”
He let out a sigh, mouth opening to defend himself.
You shook your head. “Do you know how much that hurt me?” you cried out, lower lip quivering. “I-I thought that you cared about me, but you didn’t, did you?”
“I can say the same fucking thing about you!” he snapped. “When I came back from the blip, I saw you everywhere! I thought that you were haunting me, that my guilt was just making you appear, but it was actually you!”
“I didn’t want to do that, okay.”
“What, you didn’t want to haunt me? You made me miserable!”
“That’s just what you said the last time I saw you.” You pushed yourself out of the chair and faced away from him, not wanting him to see you cry. “You were one of the only people I had. After you left, I wanted so badly to go see you. I could’ve gone anywhere, but the one place I wanted to be was with you. And then I had to hide away from the world, and I had no one. And I had to live with the fact that I would never be able to fix things between us.”
“You’ve really got some balls to say that shit.” He gripped your arm and spun you around to face him. “Fuck you, Y/N. Fuck you and everything you did.”
You yanked your arm from his grasp and stormed away. “I don’t think I’m the one to blame here, Bucky.”
You slammed the door shut behind you and walked past the room where the other three were gathered. “Hey, where are you going?” Sharon shouted.
“Outside,” you grumbled, walking out into the open courtyard in front of the house.
Sobs bubbled in your chest and past your lips, collapsing onto the front steps with your head held in your hands. Your shoulders shook and though you tried to keep the noise to a minimum, you couldn’t hold back the hiccups of air that you tried to breathe in.
Heavy footsteps clicked on the pavement behind you a few minutes later, and you hastily swiped away the tear tracks that soaked your cheeks. “Sam, I’m fine. I’ll be in in a minute and you can interrogate me all you want,” you choked out, wrapping your arms around your knees.
“Not Sam,” Bucky’s gruff voice rumbled behind you, his form settling beside you on the steps.
You pursed your lips, eyes trained on the concrete path ahead of you. “Why did you go to the wake?” The words tumbled from your mouth before you could stop them.
“I... I saw you at my wake. Why were you there? I thought I was dead to you.”
He shook his head. “You were never dead to me. You... God, you were the only thing keeping me going. You were all I had.”
You finally lifted your gaze to his face, locking eyes with him. “Then why’d you hurt me?”
A sigh left his lips. “After that chase in Bucharest, I... I guess I realized that you being with me wasn’t safe. And then when Zemo was able to get the Winter Soldier to come out...”
“So you hurt me to keep me from getting hurt.”
“What, am I wrong? God, when you push people away you really go for the heart.”
“It’s not like it was easy for me! When I saw how badly I hurt you, it felt like a part of me died inside.”
“But you still had every goddamn piece of me in your hands. Was that not enough for you?”
He stayed silent, searching your eyes for a moment before directing his gaze to his shoes. You scoffed and pushed yourself to your feet, turning on your heel to leave.
Bucky reached his left arm up, the cool metal curling gently around your wrist as he also stood up. In one fluid motion, he spun you around to face him and pressed his lips into yours. You froze in shock, but before you could even decide how to feel about his bold actions, he pulled away and searched your eyes.
You let out a shuddering sigh, trying to gather your composure as quickly as possible. “Bucky, I would’ve died for you.”
“That was the last thing I wanted. It still is.” His cool fingers loosened their grip, delicately gliding along the back of your hand. “And when I found out that you died, I blamed myself. I told myself that if I hadn't hurt you, if I was with you, then you would’ve lived.”
“My therapist, she made me create a list of people that I need to make amends with. I-I’ve gotten through most of it, but there’s a few names that I still need to get through.” He dug in his back pocket, fishing out the small pocketbook and turning to the last page. “I wrote your name down. I-I knew that there was no way I could ever make amends with you, but I felt like I had an obligation to.”
You stared at your name scrawled out on the page in his messy handwriting. It was the only name on the page, placed right in the center. Tears welled in your eyes and you let out a shaky breath, unable to find the words to say.
“You don’t have to forgive me, and honestly I don’t expect you to, but I just needed-”
He closed his mouth, his sweet blue eyes following your movements as you closed the book in his hands and settled both of your hands on his cheeks. You could see the stress melting off of him as soon as he felt the warmth of your touch, his shoulders dropping slightly and a hint of a smile threatening to crack on his lips.
“Bucky Barnes, you are the most stubborn son of a bitch I’ve ever met,” you sighed, giving him a small smile. “And I know it’s because you’ve been hurt more times than you can count, but if I can take away some of that hurt, I’d do it a million times over and never regret it.” The tip of your nose brushed against his, and you heard his breath hitch in his throat. “I forgive you.”
With a gentle tilt of his head, his lips bumped against yours before quickly locking together. Your fingers drifted down his cheeks and his throat before clasping together behind his neck.
He stole a few more quick kisses before pulling away completely, his tongue darting out to wet his lips before permitting a smile to rest on his face. You mirrored his smile and carded a hand through his hair. “Y’know,” you breathed, “I really dig this haircut.”
He arched a brow. “Really, I thought you liked the long hair.”
“I did like the long hair! It just... This is more you. Not the Winter Soldier, not HYDRA. You.”
You felt his arm pressed against your body as he tucked his book into his jacket pocket before both arms tenderly snaked around your waist and pulled you close to him. He pressed a chaste kiss, then two, then three onto your lips before letting out a small sigh.
“I’ve got clients coming in half an hour and I’d prefer not having people with targets on their heads making out on my front step,” Sharon shouted from the front door, giving both of you a pointed look before stepping back inside.
“I should leave,” you hummed, dropping your hands to your sides and beginning to wiggle yourself free of his grip.
“Y/N,” he breathed, fingers catching onto yours and weaving together. “Stay. Please. I... I just got you back, I don't want to lose you again.” Your eyes locked with his and he held the stare for a few moments before clearing his throat and shifting his gaze to the ground between you two. “Besides, I think Sam and Zemo might kill me if I don’t go back in there without you.”
You giggled. “Oh, that’s the reason you want me to go in there with you?”
“Yeah!” His voice was nearly drowned out by your laughs, but he persisted. “I swear to god, if looks could kill, I would’ve died before I could’ve even gotten out here to talk to you. Fucking Zemo even said something about ‘when you’ve got a woman like that, you should never take hurt them.’”
You grinned. “You think he’s wrong about that?”
He shook his head fervently. “No, no, not at all! I just... I guess I’m out of practice with this whole... talking thing.” He let out a breath and squeezed your hands. “I need to catch up on the seven years that I’ve spent without you, and there’s no better time to start than now.”
You bit down on your lower lip to suppress the smile that was close to splitting your face in two. “I don't know, Bucky, but that sure sounds like some good talking to me.”
He rolled his eyes, but a smile finally began to settle on his lips. “Shut up.”
You pressed a final, sweet kiss to his lips before slipping from his grasp, giving yourself a moment to admire the purple light that caressed his skin. “Come on, let’s head inside before Sharon loses her shit.”
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sam and bucky are married and i wrote a sequel, yes it's a coda, yes it's fluffy, yes there's a wedding, yes i made my own damn self cry while reading it, and now you can too!
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New World Order
Bucky Barnes x Daughter!reader, Sam Wilson x teen!reader
The sound of the TV playing was slowly starting to lull you to sleep. Despite not doing anything most days, you were still always tired. You and your dad were sitting on the small couch in the apartment, watching whatever trashy show was on that you found remotely interesting.
“Is this what people watch nowadays? I don’t even get this,” Bucky huffed.
You nodded and mumbled an, “I guess so.”
Bucky looked over at you with a frown, but smiled a bit seeing you starting to drift off. You were starting to lean onto his shoulder, “Go to sleep doll. It’s getting late,” he said. He knew you were tired when you didn’t return his earlier comment about the TV with a comment about his old age.
“I'm not tired dad. One more episode,” you said sitting up straighter.
“Yes you are. I can tell,” he argued back.
“Fine,” you stood up from the couch to move to the small bed area on the floor but Bucky stopped you.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“Going to bed. You can have the couch so you can still watch TV. I’m fine on the floor,” you explained.
“No. You stay here,” he pulled you back to the couch and tossed a blanket to you, “I get the floor.”
You crossed your arms over your chest, “Well maybe I want the floor.”
“Well you don’t get the floor. I’m your dad so I get to decide,” he stood up and kissed the top of your head before you could protest even more, “Don’t even think about trying to argue with me,” he grabbed his own blanket and laid down on the floor mat, “Cause it won’t work.”
You propped yourself up on your elbows and peered over the edge of the couch, “You sure about that?”
“Wanna give it a go?” he asked.
You just smirked and laid back down, pulling the blanket over your head. Bucky sighed, wishing you hadn’t inherited his sarcastic nature and rolled onto his side so he could still watch the TV and keep an eye on you. Despite there being no threat of violence for months, he still kept his protective ways. Soon enough, the sounds from the TV made him fall asleep shortly after you did.
A few hours after you two fell asleep, a sudden noise made you open your eyes. You had been trained to not make sudden moves if there was an intruder. You knew it would be better to pretend to be asleep than show you were awake and not a threat.
You slowly opened your eyes, hoping to sneak a peak of whatever was happening around you. Through your half open eyes, you saw your dad sitting up and breathing heavily. You knew the signs all too well, a nightmare. You watched as Bucky glanced over to you and you quickly shut your eyes again. You knew he would feel bad if he saw you were woken up by his nightmare. Bucky looked at you shifting in your sleep and was grateful he didn’t wake you. Most nights you at least would sit up and ask him if he was okay. He hated you worrying over him and waking up because of him. He should be the one comforting you about nightmares, not the other way around.
The two of you would consider you lucky. While under HYDRA, you were used as a spy. You weren’t around death as much as Bucky was and since you were younger and still impressionable, you weren’t tortured nearly as much as he was. Your nightmares were rare now, only happening once every few weeks but the last one was about a year ago. It was worse right after the Blip but Steve was there to help you through them. He taught you how to cope with everything. You remembered how he helped you and used those strategies for yourself. You had them under control.
The next morning Bucky was grouchy. It was the day of his court mandated therapy and he hated it. You had to go through it also, more on a voluntary basis than him, but you enjoyed your sessions much more. On top of his sarcasm, you also inherited your dad’s stubbornness. It wasn’t as bad as his, but it did cause some problems with your therapist.
You walked into Dr. Kingston’s office and sat down on the couch. He smiled at you and pulled out his notes from the last session. You liked Dr. Kingston. He didn’t push too much from you and after a few sessions, he learned how to tell when you had too much. This was one of the only opportunities you had to talk about everything. You didn’t bring it up around your dad and you had no one else to talk to. You didn’t have friends and you didn’t go to school. You didn’t mind having just your dad and your therapist though.
“How are you doing Y/n?” he asked.
“I’m okay,” you responded.
“Just okay? Did something happen since last week?”
“Not really,” you said, “Dad had a nightmare last night but it didn’t really bug me.”
“But it woke you up? Does he know you know?”
You bit your lip and didn’t answer. You didn’t want him to know because he would tell Bucky’s therapist and she would tell Bucky.
“Y/n,” he said again, in a more serious tone, “You know I don’t tell anyone what happens here. How many times have I told you that?”
“Almost every single week,” you mumbled, “But I’ve read that if the patient is a minor, parents can have access to their medical information, including therapy stuff. If I tell you, you write it down and my dad can look at it and he’ll know. I don’t want him to know.”
“Okay two things,” he said, “First, where did you hear that from?”
“I read it online,” you said.
“Where online? Cause there is more to it than that. I wasn’t even sure you knew what the internet was.”
“I do know what the internet is thank you very much and I don’t know where it was. Just some website,” you shrugged.
“For an ex-HYDRA soldier, you really don’t pay attention to close details.”
“HYDRA spy actually,” you corrected, “I was a spy not a soldier. I only had basic self-defense training, not the fancy stuff everyone else did.”
“Right,” he said, writing something down, “Spy. Not soldier.”
“You should really know that. I’ve been seeing you for months and you got that wrong. Good job doc,” you said sarcastically.
“Point aside. My second thing is, why don’t you want him to know? You two are close, considering everything. Why don’t you want him to know you know about his nightmares?”
You shrugged again, “I don’t want him to feel bad. He’s done so much for me and sacrificed a whole lot. You know,” you leaned a little closer to Dr. Kingston, “If he still wants to have me in his life, he has to do this. I know he hates this but he does it for me. I feel bad.”
You groaned, “I don’t know. That’s your job to figure out my feelings for me.”
“My job is to help you through everything that has happened to you. I can’t do my job if you don’t do yours,” Dr. Kingston explained.
“What’s my job then?”
“Tell me what you want. I can’t help you if I don’t know what you want to do. All this time and you haven't once mentioned anything about a goal.”
You stayed silent for a while. Your stubbornness was setting in and you didn’t want to answer him.
“Give me something Y/n,” he said, “Anything. It can be short-term or long-term. You remember those right?”
You did but you didn’t even nod your head. You ignored him. You checked the clock on the wall not so secretly and he followed your gaze.
“You have thirty seconds to answer or I have to put you down for another session this week. I don’t think your dad would want to sit in this building for another hour more than he has to.”
“Fine,” you said harshly, “I want to be normal. I want to wake up tomorrow morning and be normal. Not an ex-HYDRA spy and not the daughter of the Winter Soldier. Normal.”
“Well that’s impossible,” Dr. Kingston said.
You threw your hands up in frustration, “What the hell? You asked for my goal and I told you. Now you’re saying it’s impossible. That’s not right,” you went to stand up but he held his hand up.
“Sit down Y/n. Let me explain,” he waited for you to sit down before he explained, “You will never be normal and you need to start accepting that. You will never be like those girls at the school I know you’re registered for, but you’re not going to. You have a past that will follow you forever. I can help you find a new normal but you won’t be “normal,” normal. You understand?”
“And, even if you could be normal, change doesn’t happen overnight.”
“Yes it does,” you argued, “My whole life, change has happened overnight.”
“Give me some examples then,” he said, He had his pen and paper at the ready.
“Okay, Let’s see. In nineteen forty-two, my dad joined the army and one night he was here, the next he was gone. Then, he was alive one day and dead the next. Then, a few years later, he was alive again, and then dead. Then I got taken and I was turned into a monster. And every single time I woke up from cryo, the world was different. It would be twenty years later but for me, it was a single night’s sleep. For eighty freaking years, I went to cryo in one decade and woke up two later. For me, change happens overnight,” you ranted.
“You know you’re not a monster right? You did what you had to and what you were forced to do. No one thinks you’re a monster, Y/n.”
“That’s not the point. The point is, I’m not used to change taking so long and it’s driving me crazy. Each time we meet and I’m not my normal, I go crazy. I’m not used to this,” you said.
“I know that. And I know that it will take time for you to re-adjust to more slower changes. Change does take time and you will come out of it better.”
“How do you know that? Last time I changed, I was, you know.”
“I know you Y/n. I have faith that if you just listen to what I say and hold in there, you’ll be fine.”
You glanced at the clock and saw your time was up now, “Great chat doc. I’ll definitely give that whole “normal” thing a try,” you said as you rolled your eyes. You stood from the couch and stormed out of the room. You wiped the tears that were brimming in your eyes and before you reached your dad in the waiting room, cleared all signs of anger from your body.
It was a habit that both you and Bucky enjoyed. You two took time out of your day to walk the streets of the city. The last time the two of you were there at the same time, it was the forties and you were only five. The world was much different to you back then and it was different to Bucky also. New technology and new buildings overwhelmed him the first time he was back. During the Blip, you had gotten used to the more modern and urban setting but you experienced the world differently than you did when you were younger. When the Blip happened, you were ten and now you were fifteen. You had five years to learn and explore whereas Bucky didn’t. He relied upon you for help sometimes.
“They did what?” Bucky exclaimed, “And they were just allowed to?”
“Yup!” you said absentmindedly. You were looking up at the clouds that littered the sky and didn’t notice the person you almost ran into. Bucky had to pull you by the arm to get you out of the way.
“You need to pay more attention, doll,” he teased.
“And you need to-” you were cut off by Bucky’s hand in front of your face, telling you to be quiet. He heard a small argument in an alley nearby and walked over to it, you following behind.
It was Yori and some other person. You followed Bucky into the alley as he stepped between the two men, “Hey, Hey. What’s going on, Yori? I thought we were getting lunch.”
“Unique is putting his trash in my can,” Yori said.
“Trash is trash,” the other man, who you assumed was Unique, said.
Yori raised his hand, “And now it’s time for me to smack-” he was cut off by Bucky, who grabbed his hand and pulled it down. Unique stepped back and out of the way and into you.
“Watch it,” you mumbled under your breath. Bucky shot you a “be nice” look before taking Yori a few feet away, leaving you alone with Unique.
He stuck his hand out for you to shake but you ignored it, “I’m Unique by the way. Kinda like Monique but with a U. To be unique you know.”
“I don’t care,” you said. You ignored him until Bucky came back with a much calmer Yori. Bucky walked alongside Yori and made sure you were following before heading towards the Izzy’s for lunch.
You, your dad and Yori sat at the bar table in the restaurant, eating what you had ordered for lunch. You were minding your own business, letting the two adults talk about whatever they wanted until a particular phrase caught your attention.
“You should ask her out,” Yori said to your dad.
Bucky’s eyes went wide and he shook his head, “Mmm mnn. No.”
“C’mon. It’ll be fun,” you said.
“Stay out of this Y/n. You’re too young to have an opinion about dating,” he said back.
“Eighty is too young? Really?” you said. Bucky playfully smacked your arm. Before he could respond, Yori got the attention of the waitress.
“Excuse me. He would like to take you out on a date. Maybe bingo or pinochle.”
You tried your best to suppress your giggles, ignoring the evil glare your dad was giving you.
“I’m really sorry about him,” he said, motioning to the man next to you. In your efforts to suppress your laughter, you choked on your drink and spilled it on the counter, “And her,” he motioned towards you next.
“Why are you sorry?” she asked, handing you a rag to clean your mess up, “I’m game.”
“Really?” you asked in shock.
“Wow,” Bucky said.
“Tonight then?” Yori asked.
“Tonight is great,” she said, “Although maybe not pinochle.”
“Why? What’s wrong with pinochle?” Buck asked sarcastically.
“What even is pinochle?” you asked.
“Another time doll,” Bucky whispered to you.
“I have a shift,” the waitress said, “But if you want to come back here I should be done around ten.” she walked away, leaving the three of you alone again.
Bucky smiled at her awkwardly before looking at you two, “I can’t believe you did that.”
“Hey! I didn’t do anything dad. It was all him,” you said pointing at Yori.
“There’s a dance to these things. You gotta warm up. I haven't danced since nineteen forty-three. At least it feels like that,” your dad said.
Yori didn’t respond and was instead spacing out. Your dad took a sip of his drink before you nudged him and motioned in his direction. He was looking at the food on a plate nearby.
“Yori, what’s wrong?” you asked him.
He started speaking in Japanese. It wasn't your strongest language but from some words and his body language, you could tell he was talking about his son. It was a very sore topic for him and you and your dad knew why. He was killed and no one knew why or by who. Except you and Bucky.
When Bucky first met Yori, you were asking him all these questions about why him and why not someone closer to his own age. He told you what happened and his plans to make amends to everyone whose lives he ruined as the Winter Soldier.
You watched as the more Yori spoke, the more your dad’s face fell. His smile turned into a frown and his eyes grew softer. You knew it hurt him hearing how his actions as Winter Soldier affected other people.
Yori didn’t know you both knew about his son so he explained that he was working abroad and was killed. Bucky stared straight ahead while you watched him. You grabbed his hand from under the table and held it. Even though it was the metal one, he could still sense your presence. He squeezed your hand lightly, not wanting to hurt you but wanting you to know he appreciates what you’re doing.
After lunch, you parted ways with Yori and headed back to the apartment while he was off to run errands. Bucky was walking by your side, his arm slung around your shoulder. It was busier than it was before and he didn’t want to lose you in the crowds of people.
“Are you okay?” you asked him, looking up to face him.
He was staring straight ahead, helping to maneuver you through the people, “I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Because of what happened?”
“Because I’m going on a date? No I’m fine with that,” he responded.
“You know what I mean, dad. That whole situation,” you said, emphasizing the word “that.”
Bucky stopped and pulled you over to the side, near the wall of a building. He crouched down in front of you and moved some of the loose strands of hair from your face, “Y/n, I know you are such a sweet kid but I don’t need you to worry over me. I’m fine. Let me worry over you,” he said.
“But I can’t help it. I’ve spent my whole life worrying about you, Dad. Dr. Kingston says that change takes time so if you want me to stop, you have to give me time,” you said with a smug look on your face, “Cause I can totally do that if you want me to. You’re always telling me to listen to what he says.”
“Are you using your therapist's words in an argument against me?” he asked.
“Maybe,” you said, “I just want to make sure you’re okay. Cause if you’re not, they might take me away from you. They like rubbing that in our faces, you know.”
“I know that and I won’t let that happen Y/n. I promise,” he said, taking your shoulders in his hands, “If I’m not okay, I will tell you and you can find some way to cheer me up then. How about that?”
“Deal,” you shook him off of you and grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the apartment, “You have a date I have to get you ready for.
“I think she’s going to like it,” you said as Bucky walked into the living room with flowers. He wasn’t sure if she would like them or not.
“You think so? Not too old fashioned?” he asked.
“I mean, if a boy gave me flowers on the first date, I’d propose to him right then and there.” you said.
“Hey, remember what I said earlier? You’re too young,” he set the flowers down and started to put on his coat. It was almost ten and it was quicker if he were to walk over there rather than the subway.
“Right sorry,” you stood up from the couch and walked over to him, “But if it were to come up, is it up for debate?”
“Maybe,” he kissed the top of your head as he pulled you into a hug. He headed for the door, opening in it and stepping into the hallway, “Actually no. Not up for debate,” he closed the door before you could respond.
You huffed and turned to go back to the couch. You put on some random show to pass the time until he came home. You had fully intended to hear all about it when he came home.
You were expecting him to be gone for at least three hours but he came home in about half that time. He seemed visibly shaken and that was scary for you. He hardly ever showed when he was shaken. You stood up and took a step towards him, ‘Dad?” you asked.
“What?” he asked. It came out a bit too harsh and he realized it, “Sorry,” he muttered.
“Was it that bad?”
Bucky ran his hand down his face and sighed, “No. The date itself wasn’t bad,” he walked over to the couch and sat, motioning for you to follow. You sat down next to him and leaned your head on his shoulder, “Yori and his son came up.”
“Oh,” you sat back up and looked at him, “I understand. You don’t have to tell me anything else if you don’t want to,” you reached over and hugged him, burying your face in his neck. He wrapped his arms around you and hugged you back.
“Thank you doll,” he kissed the top of your head and patted your back, “I love you so much. I’m so glad you’re here with me.”
“I'm glad you’re here with me too dad. I love you.” You pulled away, but curled into his side and turned to the TV “Did she like the flowers?” you asked.
Bucky shifted his focus from the TV to you, “She thought they were old fashioned. But she liked them,” he wrapped his arm around your shoulders.
“Told you she would,” you rested your head on his shoulder and his head was resting on the top of yours. The two of you fell asleep like that within minutes.
@sbsbrr14 @bonkybarnes107 @sapphireplums @xbuckyspetx
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I'm ready to get back into writing so... send in some requests!
characters I'm currently writing for:
Kylo Ren/Ben Solo
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SamBucky fan fiction recs:
* indicates smut
belonging by lovages - Sam’s no fool, he knows what’s going on. As he catches his breath, he sees the beginning of a dance between his sister and Bucky.Bucky isn’t flirting, per se. But he is being extremely charming. Slick son of a bitch.
golden light lies ahead (it's just around the bend) by sunflowergolden - or, the one where Sam and Bucky haven't spoken in weeks and Bucky suddenly turns up at the cookout. Sam is finding it very hard to be mad.
all at once this is enough by ohjustpeachy - “We’re missing your party,” Bucky mumbles, his lips barely leaving Sam’s long enough to get the words out. Sam exhales, half laugh, half desperate attempt to catch his breath as Bucky kisses him again, pushing him back against the wall of the boat’s cabin. Or, boat kisses.
*so you really wanna know how i freak it by thrinaxodon - Bucky softens his expression as he says, “You’re so caught up in the shit, need me to rescue you, I’ll do it.”The body beneath him is trembling now, Sam looks like he’s about to burst into tears from frustration. “I don’t need —““You do,” Bucky finishes for him, mouthing and nipping at the line of Sam’s jaw. “And I’m gonna give it to you.”
*Something wretched about this, Something so precious about this by anthemofourlives - Sam Wilson is pissed as all hell at Bucky Barnes, they resolve absolutely nothing of the hurt between the two of them in an alleyway.
How To Be A Wilson by druswriting - Or, how Bucky became a member of the Wilson family.
Sam’s Playlist by Zandra_Court - Bucky and Sam have some serious bonding over music in Louisiana, where Bucky learns there can be no better aphrodisiac than classic R&B. And sometimes what you can’t say, someone else can sing.
*Skip, Reverse by AidaRonan- Sometimes romance is just bickering with your superhero partner/roommate at several different Target locations.
*Not Talking About It by VarjoRuusu - Sam and Bucky through the course of the show. Snarking, sex, and falling in love.
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shut in 
Summary: When your high profile mission goes terribly wrong, you’re forced to hide in a safehouse with a man you’ve never met before. With seemingly nowhere else to go, you’re forced to work together to figure out who is trying to have you assassinated before it’s too late. (Sam Wilson x Reader, Hitman AU)
Warnings: anxiety, violence, guns, death, ptsd, swearing, abuse
Word count: 6.3k
A/N: last chapter you guys :’’’’) im too emo about a fanfic i s2g. there’s an epilogue but this is the official last chapter.
there’s a lot of callbacks to previous chapters so if you’re confused, just shoot me an ask!
i really appreciate feedback so if you would like to, please consider dropping me an ask or comment ly guys!
Previous Part || Shut In Masterlist
You had only heard of the warehouse before, never actually seen it.
Its reputation preceded it. It was only mentioned in passing as a place for the worst of the worst.
It was murky and smelled like rust, concrete and rotting corpses. You had no doubt a few of them would be littering the place. A few tube lights shone over you graciously like a spotlight, barely illuminating the area.
The room you were in was utterly silent. The only exception were noises outside the door; loud shouts and clanging of metal. You assumed it to be people in the other rooms. Your assessment on how tight the ropes were coiled around you earned a few grunts and odd squeaks, but nothing major.
You were bound to a chair, of course, with knots you had used before on others. It felt like a convoluted form of irony. It was firmly nailed to the ground to prevent you from using it against captors. You were gagged; pretty well, by the look of it.
A noise from beside you threw you off track. A quick look to your left and you found Sam in a similar predicament. He shook his head slightly, implying that it was useless to find an opening. At least he was alive and breathing.
“Are you done?” A voice came from behind you, echoing within the four walls. “I really want to get going and you’re taking too long.”
You knew who it was. It was impossible for you to mistake it at this point.
“Don’t mind the noise outside. We’re just torturing a bunch of people to death.”
You roll your eyes out of sheer instinct. The footsteps slowly moved towards the front of the room, heavy and deliberate. The expensive material of his suit shone under the light as he edged in front of you. Only he’d wear Armani to a murder.
The dramatic fuck clearly rehearsed it.
“Hey Buttercup,” Ransone smiled, distinctly proud of himself. Your bite on the bundle of cloth haphazardly shoved in your mouth tightened. “Been waitin’ on you for a while now. Wilson’s no good company.”
You sneak a glance at Sam’s side profile and he looks relatively untouched. There were a few cuts on his face that you could make out under the harsh light but that was it.
“You can’t get out of those, if you're wondering.” He gestured to your current set up. “I told you, Sam. I save my warehouse for special guests. All your fun tools are gone. Took ‘em when you were brought in.”
As your eyes adjusted to the lighting, you faintly make out the presence of two men in the corners of the room, stiff as cardboard. His security.
“Oh! Except this.” He brandished the paper airplane you had brought with you in the utility belt. He’d use anything to potentially get a rise out of you.
“Gettin’ sentimental now, are we?” He tested the tip of the plane with his finger.
You prayed he wouldn’t destroy it. It had more value than he was willing to bet on.
“You must be asking yourselves why you ended up here,” Ransone mused, looking at the plane from all angles. “No need to worry, I’ll tell you.”
You didn't expect anything less from him. Everything about this felt cinematic; the inconvenient lighting, the men standing in the corner. This man oozed drama over efficiency.
“When I was just starting out, people warned me. Told me I wasn’t going to get anywhere, that we’d always stay in the same position because that’s how it’s been for all these years.” He tested the plane, holding onto the body sturdily.
“There were too many big names already. We were one of them, of course. My father did a good job of giving us a solid foundation.” He pulled his wrist back like he was going to launch it, only to never actually do it. He carried it through the air, simulating its flight pattern.
“You remember my father, don’t you? The guy who cut off someone’s finger because they didn’t finish the job.” Ransone really only had one story to tell about his father and he worked it to death. Other than a few handful of times, his father never bothered about his presence much from what you heard. He favoured the ones who were brutal and Ransone- well, he was a glorified theatre kid.
“Of course you do. He was an incredible man.” He laughed crisply. “But he had no real ambition. No drive. I told him we could have been at the top, the ones parents warn their kids about. He didn’t listen to me. He never really paid attention.”
His tone got wistful in the end, eyes distant like he was living the scene out in his head.
“So obviously when he died, I had the chance to really make a difference. Really set us apart. Ten Rings and Hydra had their own niche; they had some ties with the military and the government and whatnot. Crazy motherfuckers, all of them.” He shook his dead in distaste. “But Serpentine- that was closer to home. Same market as us.”
You wondered how long he would take to get to the point. The only distraction you had were the noises that continued outside. An odd gunshot here and there really pulled your attention away from the story.
“Serpentine with their stupid code names. They really thought they were all that.” He sounded embarrassingly like a bitchy teenager. “Who do they think they were fooling with the Norse Gods thing, huh? Naming your leader Odin, his wife Frigga.”
“I fucking hated them,” he spat, face twisting into anger. “Told them to watch out, that I’d end their legacy. They laughed in my face.”
He spun around, a wicked gleam in his eyes as he pointed to Sam, “That’s where you come in.”
Sam looked thoroughly irritated with the show that was going on in front of him. If he wasn’t gagged you had no doubt he’d have a few comments to pass. Ones that would get the both of you killed.
“I told you to kill their leader. One job. You fucked that up.” Sam recalling the story of his first mission flashed in your memory. “Let that old nutjob into your head and allowed him to escape. We didn’t know where he was for years.”
“I let it go because I thought Serpentine was done for. Radio silence after Odin disappeared. And they were, until a few years ago when I get news that they have a new leader. Odin’s son, the new heir.” He waved around his hands, mocking the last part of his sentence. “Word on the street was that he wanted to kill whoever murdered his mother in front of his eyes.”
“I thought that was hilarious. You know why?” He laughed humourlessly. “Because that was you. You were the one who killed his mother. You remember that? Your big mission?”
“You killed my mom,” he jeered, unmoving.
“I’m sorry. I had to.” Your voice was quiet. Your hand clutched at the hood of the car to keep your balance. “But I don’t want to hurt you. Go.”
“He wasn’t supposed to be there. No one had even heard of him. His brother’s too soft to take on anything like this. He’s some farmer in England now. But he was supposed to be Odin’s only son. Yet somehow, the only person who could have known this other son existed and actually seen him… was you.”
“Turns out he’s like you. A secret adoption. No record of him anywhere.” You didn’t blink, not once taking your eyes off him in case he decided to go wild. “He should have died that day. You were supposed to kill them.”
Only Ransone would justify killing a kid because it fit his agenda. It wasn’t like he hadn’t done it before, and though he tried very hard to shove his ideology onto you, you never complied.
“Goes by Loki now, another stupid codename. Trained by his father who this idiot let go of.” He gestured to Sam callously, “and mad about the murder of his mother that you committed. Serpentine came back pretty quickly after he took control.”
A particularly loud sound of metal slamming would have made you jump had you not been tied down. Ransone swung around in anger, loudly cursing at them for ruining his train of thought. He muttered some more curses under his breath before plastering a fake smile on his face and continuing.
“I’ll admit, he’s a sneaky one. But they grew faster than any other cartel. They somehow knew all our connections, all our targets, our key players. It wasn’t possible,” he shook his head low as he paced up and down slowly. You knew where this was headed. “Unless we had someone giving them information from the inside.”
He stops to look at you.
“I would have forgiven you, Y/N, I really would. You know how I am about second chances.” He looked at you, eyebrows upturned with regretful eyes. “But then you had to go and spy on me for two years.”
You could see Sam turn to you from the corner of your eye, assessing your reaction. You didn't extend the same courtesy to him. You didn’t have any reaction.
“We found out very late, of course. I taught you well,” he chided, his inescapable narcissism making an appearance once more. “But then we had to figure out why. Why you’d betray me and everything I’ve done for you.”
“I still can’t figure that out.” You wanted to scream at him, everything he had taken away from you, everything he forced you to be. “I treated you the best out of everyone I had. You had the best training, the best resources. You wouldn’t have made it anywhere if I didn’t drag you out of that shithole orphanage.”
You had heard of blissfully ignorant, but he was well beyond that at this point.
“Didn’t take too long to connect the dots. What, with Wilson’s great act of charity and your lack of better judgement, both of you managed to fuck up enough to screw me over years later.”
“I initially was only going to have you killed, Buttercup,” he admitted nonchalantly, like your life had no value. “But then we found out that Sam’s been lying to me for a long time too. Been hidin’ his friend a few states away.”
“It was meant to be,” he cooed. “Such a similar past. You could have met each other before, you know? Pierce wouldn’t be the first time you were at the same house on the same day.”
You couldn’t help but wonder what it would have been like if you had known Sam earlier. Would you have been friends or would you have been forced to kill each other in his sick ‘survival of the fittest’ game?
“It felt poetic to have you both die together, you know? On a mission gone wrong. A full circle.” God, he spent too long planning something elaborate when he could have just put a bullet in your head and ended you the day he found out. Fucking weirdo.
“Made sure I sent you to the same place at the same time. Pierce was dead long before you came, the poor fuck. But then again, collateral damage. No mercy.” He shrugged. “Had everyone at the ready. You should have died that night.”
“But like everything you do,” his voice suddenly rose like a child throwing a tantrum, “you fucked that up for me too. Escaped with his stupid fucking car.”
“None of those useless agents could find you. How could they?” The beauty was that Ransone must have spent too long looking when you were basically right there, just miles away. “You didn’t go to one of our locations and Serpentine hides their safehouses well.”
You still remembered the relief when the door accepted your fingerprint.
It was a long shot but you didn't have anywhere else to go. You weren’t even sure that this house existed.
Another loud crash arrived from the outside with noises that sounded like more gunshots, making Ransone jump this time. Just how many people were being tortured here?
“Keep the volume down, you stupid fucking imbeciles!” he screeched, pounding at the metal door. The decibel reduced, but still continued on.
He dragged his palm across his face in exasperation, talking under his breath to himself. He shook his head before turning back to you.
"Oh, by the way, don't think about escaping. Got every last one of my best agents out here after that stunt you pulled at Pierce’s house,” he says offhandedly.
He takes a second to regroup, get back into character.
“So we released your pictures to the public. Can’t go very far if people are looking for you constantly. It was the only way we could get you to stay in one place.” Ransone raised his shoulders casually. “We had every lowlife out there waiting for one of you to show up.”
“We eventually had someone report Wilson in a town a while away from Pierce. I was making my way there but then you sent me your location on your own. Had men outside your house that night.” He paused, peering at the plane in his hand.
He finally let it go, watching as it barely went any distance before nose diving to the ground. Your eyes trailed after it, hoping he wouldn’t crush it with his foot.
“This is the worst fucking paper plane I’ve ever seen. The balance is completely off.” He stared at it in wonder, picking it up again and shoving it back into his pocket. You let out a breath you didn’t realise you were holding. “Anyway one of them heard you talkin’ about how you’re leaving the next day so we just got ready at the door.”
“Et voila.” He grinned, spreading his arms. “Here we are. Brilliant, wasn’t it?”
Unnecessarily long, but you weren’t going to complain.
“Oh, I forgot you can’t talk.” His mouth quirked downwards into a ‘whoops’.
He took a long pause right in front of you before his hand reached out to cradle your face. “I wouldn’t let those idiots kill you, Buttercup. You deserved better than that.”
He stared unnervingly into your eyes, looking for a hint of anything, any sort of remorse. He wasn’t going to find any. You wished he saw nothing but hatred.
“It’s why I had to kill you myself.” He sighed when you pulled your face away the best you could from his palm in disgust. “But I’ll do you a solid. I’ll give you a chance to beg for forgiveness. Maybe if you’re good enough I’ll let you go.”
You knew he was lying. He had no intention of doing that. He only wanted you to grovel in submission, plead for your life for a fucking power trip.
He ripped off the tape that was over your mouth, making you flinch at the burn. He pulled out the cloth faster than you could spit it out at him.
“Go ahead,” Ransone said smugly. His ego would outlive all of you.
“Him first.” Your mouth was dry and your lips felt chapped. You had clearly been knocked out for a while by then. You had no idea how far away you were from the original location.
“What?” His smile dropped to a frown rather quickly.
“Him first.” You mentioned towards Sam with your head.
“That’s cute.” He laughed, stopping when you didn’t join in. “Oh, you’re serious.”
“I’m not saying shit till he does too.” You were bemused, monotonous. You just wanted to get this over as quickly as possible.
“Fine,” he huffed when your expression didn’t change. “It’d be fun to watch him beg anyway.”
You hear the rip of the tape from his face, the scrunch of the material before he balled it up and threw it on the floor.
Sam shook his head furiously, forcing Ransone to take a step back swiftly before he hit him.
“Right.” Ransone clapped his hands together. “Let’s get star-”
He was interjected by another loud bang followed by a series of gunshots. Another victim massacred. He groaned in frustration, stamping his feet at the constant interruption. The universe was determined to not let him finish his monologue in peace, and for that, you thanked her.
You looked at Sam, nodding slightly. He gave you a small smile in return, calming the nerves you were beginning to feel.
“Where were we?” Ransone did not look happy; a vein was dangerously visible on his forehead. Now would not be the best time to do anything that angered him. “Yes, go ahead. Beg.”
“Ransone,” Sam began, exhaling lightly. “We knew.”
The smile on Ransone’s face faltered. “What did you say?”
“He said we knew,” you cut in. “You melodramatic fuck.”
Ransone’s grin faded abruptly and it was by far the most satisfying experience you had ever experienced.
“Yeah, we figured it out ourselves a while ago.” Sam had the slightest smirk on his face. “Y/N did, actually.”
“Fuck,” you cursed.
You could feel his muscle shift as he looked at you.
You opened your mouth but shut it again. How do you explain it to him without sounding utterly ridiculous?
“I need to tell you something and I need you to hear me out before saying anything,” you pulled away from him, shuddering at the sudden cold that enveloped you.
“I think it’s Ransone. He’s been trying to kill us.”
“Why?” He didn’t sound judgemental, hardly even fazed, like it was a completely plausible suggestion. You couldn’t express how glad you were.
“The guy you killed, if he’s the old head of Serpentine, then... I know his son.” Your mouth was dry as your mind raced to piece it together. “He’s the one I didn’t kill.”
“What?” Sam’s eyebrows furrowed, and you could see him trying to figure out the connection. “How are you so sure?”
You closed your eyes, letting out a deep exhale. “I’m going to need you to not react to what I’m going to tell you.”
“Okay...” he trailed off.
“I’ve been working with him for two years. Passing information on to him about Ransone.”
“Wait so that means-”
“I’m the spy. And I think Ransone figured it out. He wants to kill me.”
“You knew,” Ransone stated. He looked like he was in a daze.
Sam looked at you once before nodding. “If you would shut up and let someone else talk for once, we would have told you a while ago.”
“It helped that you confirmed details about Pierce’s death without us having to tell you.” The last conversation you had with him replayed in your head verbatim. “There’s no way you would have known he was dead before we got there unless we told you. Or you did it.”
“We knew you had agents outside the house. Kinda expected that when we gave you the address,” you shrugged the best you could, “Sam’s security cameras got all of them.”
“Made sure that one fuck behind the tree could hear us planning outside,” Sam added. “He wasn’t very stealthy, by the way.”
“Have you decided on a day?”
You nod, looking straight ahead into the darkness. “Tomorrow.”
“You sure? Our timing has to be right.”
“Yeah.” Your voice is coarse. “I’ll have to tell him.”
He nodded, leaning his elbows on his knees. He was too tall for the stairs, almost like he was crouching instead of sitting.
His voice dropped to a whisper like it’s a secret only meant for you.
“You knew you were going to be ambushed.”
“No shit.” You nodded.
The loud bangs continued outside the door but you paid no heed to it. The closer it got, the more your stomach jumped, hoping that more people you pissed off didn’t storm in. You had quite a list anyway.
“You knew they were coming,” Ransone appeared like he had gears turning in his own head, trying to add everything up on his own. “Then why didn’t you run?”
“Well, we kinda needed all of you in one place.”
“Huh?” He blinked, not listening to all the commotion that was going on around him. If he didn’t, he was choosing to focus on this instead.
“We had to take out all of you at once,” you disclosed, fidgeting with the rope to see if it would give. “Kinda knew you were waiting to kill us yourself when we gave you the location and nothing happened immediately. You’re too much of a sissy to kill us without backup so we wanted you in one place with the rest of them.”
You tilted your head towards the two men standing in the corner.
“You knew all this while and lied,” Ransone jeered, face twisting into something rather indiscernible; a nice mix of shame and rage.
“Not like we had another choice, man.” You just knew Sam was rolling his eyes. “You think I would voluntarily listen to you monologue like an idiot?”
“You did gag us,” you added, trying to buy as much time as you could. “That’s on you.”
The ropes were still tight as could be and the chair wouldn’t budge. Even your feet were too tightly tied together to do anything. It was what you expected, but that wasn’t going to stop you.
“Shut up!” Ranone’s face was hideously red.
“You rehearsed it, didn’t you?” Sam called out, taunt in his tone. “With the lighting and shit.”
“He doesn’t have to. He does one a week to some poor fuck who has to listen.”
You couldn’t believe the both of you were teaming up to bully a man who literally held the fate of your lives in his hands. It was something you never imagined yourself doing.
“How do people take you seriously?” Sam laughed. More than yours, his remarks seemed to be ticking Ransone off.
Ransone let out a guttural cry, knuckles so white you were afraid they were going to break. He whips around, stomping over to pull the gun from the hand of one of his bodyguards.
“Easy there, DeNiro, that’s not a stage prop.” Sam chided.
The concrete in front of him suddenly cracks loudly. He looked up, slightly taken aback.
“Next time it’ll be your fucking face,” Ransone snarled, waving the gun around like a maniac. You send a cautionary glance to Sam, telling him to back off. Ransone was volatile. He would act without thinking.
“Why did you kill everyone I was friends with, Vincent?” you asked slowly, trying to divert his mind.
He turned to you, a crazed look in his eyes.
“Why did you take everyone from me?” The more you asked, the more it became about genuine curiosity rather than a distraction from shooting Sam in the head.
“Take everyone from- none of them were going to last anyway!” He throws his hands up in the air angrily. “I was saving you from yourself. From the eventual pain.”
His face was desperate, and you for a second forced yourself to think from his perspective. He looked like he truly believed in what he was saying, like he genuinely thought he was supporting you. Like he cared. The thought that maybe he truly wanted to help you was the only way you could comfort yourself for so many years.
“If you were in pain, you wouldn’t perform. I was only pushing you to your full potential,” he continued, a wild smile on his face mixed with eyes rimmed red like he was ready to cry.
Your stomach sank, even though you hated it. It wasn’t about you, it was about what he could get from you.
There was silence. Even the noises outside seemed to have stopped, all waiting for your next move.
“You’re a sick, conniving fuck,” your words waver, and you hope it hits him as hard as it can, “And I can’t wait till you’re dead.”
His face morphed from one of helplessness to slow fury once more. Manipulative prick.
“Do I have to remind you that you’re the one tied up?” He wipes at his nose, voice returning to normal. “The only reason you’re alive right now is because I need to know why you let yourself be captured so willingly.”
Your incessant need to know everything stemmed from him and the paranoia he induced in you from when you were a kid. Everything you thought was wrong about you came from him.
“We told you, you overdramatic fuck.” Sam drew the attention away from you thankfully. You took a deep breath, stabilizing yourself.
“What, that you needed the team in one place to take us out?” Ransone asked, to no one’s answer. “You and what army?”
“Well, the one who’s been here for a while now,” you pipe up.
No one says anything. Pin drop silence reigns free.
“You said he’d be here,” Sam hissed at you. “How much longer do we keep this going?”
“He said he would,” you argued back, feeling the heat creep into your cheeks.
“What the fuck are you both talking about?” Ransone asked, but you continued to ignore him.
“What are we going to do if he-”
The door violently exploded off its hinges, sending debris flying everywhere. You clenched your eyes shut and ducked your head to avoid getting smacked in the face with rubble
The dust hadn’t even cleared before multiple rounds were fired. You flinched when your ringing ears hurt more at the sound of gunshots.
You struggle against your ropes, trying to get to Sam. They only get tighter until suddenly your arms break free. Your neck and legs soon follow as you shrug off the ropes that were cleanly sliced off.
Your ears were still getting used to the chaos when you notice someone humming behind you. It took a second to register that it was a fucking Brittany Spears song.
“What took you so long?” You coughed, waving the air in front of you to clear it as you stumbled towards Sam.
“I wanted to make an entrance,” Loki said dismissively, following you. “I think I may have overshot it by a few seconds.”
You fell to your knees in front of Sam, quickly moving to untie the familiar knots. He lifted his head to look at you, a thin layer of dust covering his face.
“Are you okay?” you asked in concern, simultaneously untying as fast as you could. It was one you had used many times before; a complicated knot that guaranteed you wouldn’t have been able to make it out of the bondage.
“I think my leg’s asleep but other than that I’m good.”
You give him a small smile, thankful that he wasn’t hurt enough to lose his dry sense of humour. Your hand involuntarily reached up to brush some dust off his cheekbone. The intensity with which he looked at you had you swallowing thickly.
You snapped out of it quickly, working on freeing his legs as Loki took a step behind his chair to cut the rest of him loose.
“This him?” Sam mentioned to Loki, massaging his wrist to return some feeling into it.
“You can just ask me, you know,” Loki commented, but clearly not taking any offence.
“I’m sorry about your family, man.”
You didn’t expect Sam to say that, and from the looks of it, neither did Loki. He stopped for a moment, before continuing to cut the last rope.
“You let my father go,” he said, sawing the last part off, “and although I personally think you should have killed the miserable old bastard, he made it clear that he owed you one.”
The both of you stood up. You glanced around the room, noting how both of Ransone’s bodyguards were on the floor, bullet holes riddling their body.
He himself was beside them, lying facefront on the ground. Armani suit be damned.
“How many more are outside?” Sam asked, tearing your attention away from the bodies on the floor.
“All taken care of.” Loki put the knife back into its sheath on his thigh. “We made quite a commotion. I’m surprised he didn’t do anything.”
“He’s a little dense,” Sam remarked. Most of the noises you heard earlier weren’t just other victims being tortured, although you knew that it was still a large fraction of it.
“Should we go?” you asked, doing a quick sweep of the room. You found nothing moving among the pile of rubble.
“Unless you got anything else left to do.” Loki gestured to the large hole in the wall where the door was.
“I think we’re done.”
He simply nodded, spinning on his heel to walk out the room when someone yelled from behind you.
You all halted what you were doing, slowly turning to look at where the noise was coming from.
“Don’t take another step,” Ransone warned, a gun pointed straight at you, barely able to stand straight. He looked worse than you’d ever seen him. His suit was torn and he had a few streaks of blood down his face. His hair was tousled and unkempt, rougher than it had ever been before. “Or I swear I’ll-”
“Oh, shut up,” Loki interjected, firing a shot into Ransone’s stomach before anyone could even react. He returned the gun to its holster that you didn’t even notice was there on his waist. “He talks too much.”
Ransone staggered back until he hit the wall, knees buckling beneath his weight as he slid to the ground. The gun he pried off his bodyguards lay where he was standing previously.
You ignored Sam’s uneasy questions as you took a step forward.
You picked the gun up, cautiously making your way to Ransone. You crouched next to his body. He looked at you before looking down. You followed his line of sight, watching as he lifted his hands. They were covered in blood.
“How’d he know where to find you?” Ransone’s voice was more subdued than you’d ever heard him.
You reached over, slipping your fingers into his jacket pocket and pulled out the paper airplane that was flattened due to the impact.
“Hey, you can put a message in it. Maybe one of those button trackers, a microphone. The possibilities are endless.” He laughed, folding another one out of the limited supply of paper he had left.
You unfolded it, letting a small object, not bigger than a button, fall into your palm. He stared at it before realisation dawned on him.
“I knew you’d take all my weapons, but you wouldn’t get rid of this,” you disclosed, folding the paper plane back to what it was and gently putting it into your pocket. It was still salvageable. “Not if you could use it to hurt me.”
You watched him take a shaky breath, flinching when more blood rushed out of him.
“You can still help me, Y/N. We can get out of here together,” he rasped. “Think about everything we’ve been through. We can work it out. I love you.”
You involuntarily let out a strangled cry at the last part. It was nothing but a last ditch attempt to persuade you, pull you back in.
“Look- look at me. Buttercup,” he croaked when you wouldn’t oblige. “I love you. I’m your home.”
You finally look at him. Look right into his eyes, red rimmed and fading. You look for it, the adoration he spoke of. The care he promised. Anything to make sense of why he would tear you apart time and time again. The love he had for you.
You find nothing. Gray eyes look back at you blankly, desperately, in pain.
“You never were,” you whisper, standing up abruptly.
You raised your arm, pointing the gun at him. He sputtered out more half baked apologies, unaware of anything that was coming out of his own mouth.
You clench your eyes shut, pulling the trigger. He lets out a cry when the bullet lodges in his shoulder.
You take a step back, letting the scene imprint itself in your brain of him powerless on the ground at your will. If you followed what he preached, you’d have ended his life right there. No mercy.
But you weren’t him. And you didn’t ever want to be.
“I need to do something too,” you heard Sam say. You can feel him near you, brushing against you for a moment as he gently reached for the gun you held. You gave it to him, feeling him squeeze your hand in reassurance.
Ransone looked at Sam as he stood beside you. He fired a single shot into his leg, clearly hitting bone. You hear the same wail from before, mixed with sputtering as blood leaked from his mouth.
“That was from Riley. He says fuck you.” Sam let his hand fall again. “All yours, man.”
“You already know what this is for,” Loki said simply.
You chose not to look away as he shot the last round right into his forehead. Ransone’s head slumped over. Dead, glassy eyes stared beyond you.
None of you say anything. Just stare at the lifeless body in front of you.
“It’s really over, huh?” Sam’s voice is quiet, like he's having trouble processing what just happened.
You don’t answer. Only take a step towards him, and intertwine your fingers with his, continuing to stare at the corpse of your lifelong abuser.
The sun was beating down on you. You didn’t expect it to be evening when you stepped out of the warehouse.
“Where are we?” you asked, shielding your eyes from the sudden brightness that left you squinting.
“Middle of nowhere, I’d say.” Loki stares with disdain at the old building that looked worse for wear. “Would it kill the man to have a bit of taste?”
That reminded you. “Thanks for the house. And… sorry we showed up uninvited.”
“You didn’t do too much damage to it, I hope.”
You looked at him guiltily, mind flashing to the many bullet holes that decorated the back wall. “I’ll pay for the repairs.”
“Forget it. It’s of no use since everyone knows it exists now.” He dismissed with a wave of his hand. “So, Y/N. I guess that concludes our deal?”
“I guess it does.” You nodded,
Sam wraps his arms around your shoulder and you lean into him with a sigh, allowing the comfort his touch brought to seep into you.
“How’d you guys make a deal anyway?” he inquired. You closed your eyes, chest rising and falling steadily.
“Well, I was going to kill you at first,” Loki explained offhandedly, gesturing to you. “But then-”
He trailed off.
You remember, clear as day, when Loki confronted you in the early hours of the morning outside the park you went on runs. He had a gun pulled on you before you could fathom what was going on, before you could even realise who he was.
“But then?” Sam prodded.
“Did he make it?”
“He did,” you divulged the information you had found out a while ago. It was a messy confrontation to say the least but you got out unscathed.
“Saw something that I recognised,” he said dryly, eyeing you up and down. “We were both pulled into something we didn’t have a say in. Stuck, you could say. I just thought that it was a win-win situation if we worked together to kill that idiot back there.”
“So you agreed to spy on him,” Sam concluded. “You got revenge. What was your incentive?”
You look at Loki who just smiled at you. You return one half heartedly.
“I’d say freedom is a pretty big reward, wouldn’t you?” And it was. You couldn’t even begin to explain the weight that would be lifted off your shoulders. “I can’t guarantee you’ll have a perfectly normal life. Might have to change your identity, move around a bit.”
“Everyone’s looking for us as wanted criminals,” Sam voiced everything you were forgetting about in the surge of emotions rushing through you.
“I got some connections,” Loki said dismissively. You peered at him from under Sam's arm. “I can have it traced back to a dead mobster in a warehouse, no problem. If they think it’s a gang war there’s no way they’ll try to get too involved. Consider it a gift from my father.”
Sam nodded, relaxing slightly now that most things were taken care of.
“That’s sorted then.” Loki examined the barren land that surrounded you. “You’re going to need a ride back to civilization, aren’t you?”
“If that’s possible.”
“I’ll have someone drop you off. You got any place to go? At least to stay low for a while.”
You didn’t have anyone. The only one you had was the man beside you. Nothing was settling in at the moment, and you realised that it would be a long road until it did. But you had a shot. A real shot at something even resembling recovery.
Sam and you looked at each other before he turned back to Loki and nodded.
You can add yourself to the taglist here!
here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <3</b>
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Fandom: The Falcon and the Winter Soldier (TV)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Sam Wilson
Characters: James "Bucky" Barnes, Sam Wilson (Marvel)
Additional Tags: Mention of Death, Heavy Angst, Grief/Mourning, sam has angel wings, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Bucky Barnes Is a Good Bro
“I’m sorry,” Karlie said, her body going lifeless in Sam’s arms. He wanted to scream and cry but it was stuck in his throat and his body felt numb. He held the eighteen-year-old closed to his chest and placed the rosary she dropped around her neck. He said a soft prayer before Karlie’s eyes opened up. Karlie’s eyes showed no signs of life as they stared deep into Sam’s brown eyes.
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Genesis- Chapter 11
We arrived at Louisiana, and to where Sam was with his family. “How do we get it off the truck?” I rolled my eyes at James’ dramatics as he lifted the weight with his metal arm.
“Show off.” I scoffed immediately burning when he winked at me and distracted myself by placing the briefcase on top of the vehicle.
“Just dropping this off. You can sign for it and I'll go. I called in a favor from the Wakandans.” He stated monotonously. How fucking dramatic, before Sam could respond the sound of a pipe bursting filled the air.
“Sam!” A woman. Sarah. Oh my gosh she’s pretty. May god save me, Sam tried fixing the pipe. Tried. James rolled his eyes and moved to Sam.
“Hi!” I breathed out to Sarah, she smiled at me and returned the greeting. Seriously? Now your game goes to shit? Fuck you Genesis.
I looked at James who stopped Sam “Hold on, hold on. You gotta go up” he stated before fixing the pipe.
“Why didn't you use the metal arm?” Sam questioned looking at James making me laugh.
“Well... I don't always think of it immediately. I'm right-handed.” Sam chuckled “So, this is the boat, huh? This is it. It's nice. You want any help?”
“Yeah.” I turned to Sarah while James and Sam looked at me.
Okay see be simple Genesis. “I'm Genesis.” I introduced myself. I already knew her name, oh well.
“Ah. Sarah.” She introduced herself making me smile.
“Sarah...it’s a really pretty name.” I complimented making her smile wide. Baby steps. She put a hand on my shoulder and walked away, I turned around to look at Sam who was ready to kill me and James who was…I really stopped reading his expressions, they’re weird.
The day went by with a lot of work on the boat, alternating between the engine and external work, I was pretty relaxed.
“James put that down.” I called out from my place on the dock with Sarah looking at James who was practicing defense with the scraper making him roll his eyes at me, I gave a scoff before turning to Sarah and… talking to her.
“Think Karli's gonna throw in the towel?” James questioned as we passed the buckets of water to be discarded.
“I think she's gonna double down.”
“Any idea how to stop her?” I questioned him.
“I got Joaquin working on something.”
“Well, Zemo says there's only one way.” I sighed out at his statement.
“Gotta catch our flights tomorrow. Get a hotel room for the night. Crash, you know?” James taunted hiding a smirk.
“You're just gonna set me up like that, huh?” yes.
“I don't wanna make it weird for your family.” I started
“Just stay here. The people in this town are the most welcoming people in the world. They don't care if you wear small T-shirts or if you have six toes or if your mom's your aunt.” I laughed at him while James chuckled.
“Okay, I get it. I mean, you know, the people are nice.” He finally admitted.
“But don't flirt with my sister.” Sam pointed at me with raised eyebrows as I downed my drink.
“'Cause if you do, I'll have Carlos cut you up, feed you to fish.” Well that was nice of him to say.
“Okay.” I quickly muttered.
“Samuel we can take the couch relax.” I reassured the man, homeboy went berserk on sleeping places “James do you have a problem?” wrong question, before he could answer “he’ll suck it up, go sleep, we got to catch a flight tomorrow.” I stated pushing him away into his room.
“I can-” I gestured to the floor, taking out my phone and texting Spencer and Penelope.
“Genesis, get your stubborn ass up here.” he ordered, I looked up at him from my place on the floor. Now or never sis, take it.
I moved up to the couch, ignoring the free space and got on top of him and laid down. “Hi” he whispered looking down at me, I laughed at him “you’re comfortable” he commented.
“Yeah” I breathed out “thank you” I looked up at him again.
“Just…the past few days have been hard, thank you for staying.” I explained and closed my eyes when I felt his fingers get tangled in my hair.
“You’re talking like I was gonna leave, Sleep Genesis, I’ll be right here when you wake up.” he assured, it felt so good to love someone, to be loved by someone again, it felt good knowing I had a constant someone. I closed my eyes focusing on his breathing, it wasn’t long before the exhaustion of working got to me and I passed out to a dreamless sleep. “Goodnight, Bucky…”
3rd Person’s POV:
The freedom and Peacefulness James Buchanan Barnes felt looking at the girl in his arms was indescribable, a few days ago this would’ve been a far-fetched dream he had, but now…seeing the woman he loved peacefully laying on top of him, clutching onto his dog tags made his heart melt.
He wanted this.
He wanted her.
He wanted them.
With that thought he entered a dreamless sleep, for the first time…in a very long time. He was home.
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Firefly's Fic Recs - April
Here are the amazing stories that I have read last month - as always, please check the tags and warnings, comment on the stories, reblog the fics and follow the writers for more fantastic content.
Appreciating the hard work and dedication of these writers just makes their day a little brighter!
Fic Recs 2021
Angst 💔 Fluff 💛 Smut 💋 Warnings ❗️ Series 📚 Favourite ✨
Am I More Than You Bargined For Yet? - @buckysmischief 💔📚✨
As It Was - @heli0s-writes 💔📚✨
Begin Again - @sergeantbuckybarnes
Birthday Tiara - @babyboibucky 💋
Delicate - @sebbys-girl 💔💛📚
Disarming - @stuckonjbbarnes
Don't Give Up On Me - @angrythingstarlight 💔💛✨
Evaesdrop - @bestofbucky
Hello My Old Heart - @louhooo 💔💛📚✨
If We Were Stars - @writersbuck
It's All Coming Back To Me Now - @scarlvtbitch💔
Just Say It and I'm Yours - @whisperlullaby 📚
Lemme Deep Clean Your Hard Drive, Girl - @drabblewithfrannybarnes 💋📚
Losing You - drabblewithfrannybarnes💔💋📚
Lust at First Sight - @fandomfic-galore 💔
Perceive - @shurisneakers 💔💛✨
Riding Lessons - @gogolucky13 💋
Rooftop - @bestofbucky 💔
Situationship - @buckys-darling
Something Special - @demonsandmischief
Starved - @all1e23
Stress Relief - @honeysucklesteve 💋
Surprises - @louhooo
Used to be Mine - @girl-next-door-writes 💔
You Asshole, Bucky Barnes - @buckysforeverprincess
Honest - @xbuchananbarnes
Identity - @samwilsons-pillowpecs 💔📚✨
Shut In - @shurisneakers 💔📚✨
Permanent - samwilsons-pillowpecs
Rose - samwilsons-pillowpecs
Alter - @kleohoneyao3 ❗️
A Soldier and A Spy - @jurassicbarnes
Bikini Doubt - @thegetawaywriter 💛
Kiss the Girl - @girl-next-door-writes
Misunderstanding - thegetawaywriter 💔💛
Surviving - @nekoannie-chan
You're Happier Aren't You? - @girl-next-door-writes
Most Prized Possession - @little-diable
Ruin Me - drabblewithfrannybarnes 💋
Don't Go - girl-next-door-writes
Life's Lessons - @deangirl93 💔💛💋❗️📚✨
Perfect - @mrswhozeewhatsis 💛
Mistress of Death - @codenamewitcher ❗️📚
Mile High Gold - samwilsons-pillowpecs 💋
The Price of Gold - @moonbeambucky 💔❗️📚✨
A Lil Sneaky Peek - @propertyofpoeandbucky 💋
Jurassic Park Sex Game - @imanuglywombat 💋✨
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captain of this ship.
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Genesis- Chapter 9
warnings: blood, John Walker, slight breakdown.
“Walker...” Genesis spoke up as followed the man to a warehouse.
“You guys should see a medic, you don't look so good.” He suggested to the trio, Genesis knew what was going to happen, and she was scared.
“Stop, Walker.” She stopped him from his pacing.
“What? You saw what happened. You know what I had to do. I killed him because I had to! He killed Lemar!”
“He didn't kill Lemar, John.”
“Don't go down that road. Believe me, it doesn't end well.” James tried to reason with him.
“I'm not like you.” John sneered.
“Listen, it was the heat of the battle. Okay? If you explain what happened, they may consider your record. We don't want anyone else to get hurt. John... You gotta give me the shield, man.” That sentence changed his perspective on the trio.
“Oh, so that's what this is. You almost got me.” He laughed sarcastically.
“You made a mistake.” Genesis tried to stop him, stop what was going to happen.
“You don't wanna do this.” He gave a final warning.
“Yeah, we do.”
He was now obsessed and convinced he was Captain America, and no one could stop him. Every time I saw the bloody shield, it fucking hurt.
One by one, Sam, Bucky and I came at him, trying to get the shield away from him, it was supposed to a symbol of protection, not fucking murder, I don’t blame Walker, not completely anyways.
He was now a super soldier.
It wasn’t long before he pinned be to the ground with my wings out, he started putting force on my injured bicep, keeping my arms apart, I wouldn’t be able to use it unless my hands we’re together. cried out it pain, that wasn’t nearly as painful as when he pulled on my wings, tears leaking down my cheeks from the pain, oh joy his signature is shoving the shield to decapitate a person. Cool.
I could breathe again when Sam knocked him off of me and James came to my aid and I immediately pulled in my wings with pain
“James I can’t use my powers.” I rushed out fanatically when I couldn’t use the force
“Nes, look at me, I need you to calm down okay? You’re hurt.” and his voice made me immediately stop trashing when I realized when I’m in too much pain, my powers would slow down.
I was too weak from not using my powers constantly after 5 years, great my dumbass couldn’t move now. But I could try to use my powers enough to restraint walker for the boys to get the shield. And that would hurt like a bitch.
From my place in James’ arms I pushed my arm out the last of obsidian force coming out, it was more than enough to stop walker, and it did he couldn’t move.
“Bucky…Go” I mumbled loud enough for him to hear and understand. Ah fuck I called him Bucky, weak me? You’re a dumb bitch.
With every blast of energy, I lost more and more of my strength, it hurt a lot holding it long enough for the boys to take the shield from walker, but it worked.
Oh wait…it worked.
I could still feel the dry blood which flowed down my nose the more I pushed myself, somewhere along the way, I managed to stand up on my feel, except now I collapsed out of exhaustion.
I could feel heavy footsteps coming towards me, if it was walker, I’m going to lose my shit.
“Genesis? Nes? Hey, stay with me, don’t close your eyes okay? I’ve got you, c’mon Doll, I’ve got you.” James called out, picking me up, yeah that felt great, I’m just going to rest my eyes.
Did he just kiss my head?
3rd Person’s POV:
James Barnes’ eyes widened when he felt the girl go limp in his arms, he looked down to hear soft snores coming out he immediately relaxed and chuckled.
“You know, you could save the world?” Sam Wilson spoke up from beside him as they walked out making him look at the tanned man in confusion “if you could just tell her how you feel” that made James look down at her to see if she could hear them, when he was sure she couldn’t hear them he spoke up.
“I know, I know except we don’t really have the greatest track record in friendship to randomly tell her that I like her.” he argued with slight tint in his cheek.
“Listen man, she’s been through a lot, both of you have, just suck it up and be happy for once.” he advised walking forwards leaving the couple with the man confused as ever as to his course of action.
When they finally reached their destination, he put her down and immediately grabbed supplies to he could patch up her bleeding wound, both men worked, Sam with stitching the cut, while James wrapped the bandage.
“Good Job, doc McStuffins.” Genesis piped up making the man jump in fear and fall to the ground as she laughed.
“No, nope my bad.” she clutched her stomach in pain.
“Moron.” he muttered making her slap his metal arm.
“The GRC is conducting raids to try and find Karli, but so far they've only found her followers. They've searched this camp, and just like the last camp, nothing. She's gone. We'll never find her.” Sam shared the information with disappointment.
“Optimism, great look on you Birdie.” Genesis waved her hand at the man who entered to room with another soldier.
“Jesus Gen, are you okay?” Sam rushed to her side.
“yeah yeah, you guys did a good job patching me up, and the little nap I took was enough to regain my powers.” she waved it off “Hi, I’m Genesis.” she introduced to the stranger in the room.
“Joaquin Torres.” he shook her hand “Hey, you got your sleeve back.” he looked at James who simply walked out.
“Are you off to take care of Zemo?” Sam questioned after him as the Lieutenant also called out sarcastically, Genesis looked at Sam who nodded so she took off after the super soldier
“Shouldn’t you be resting?” he asked her when she caught up with him
“Do you know where he is?” she ignored his question and asked her own question making him sigh and nod, knowing she wasn’t going to back down and started the car making their way to Sokovia.
It was awfully silent, I hated it because it made me think, I didn’t know how to stop thinking.
I couldn’t stop thinking of the people I failed, I couldn’t save.
Images of people I’ve failed flipped through my mind and before I knew it tears rolled down, I broke down more times than I should and I hated that I couldn’t stop it.
3rd person’s POV:
James Barnes looked at the girl, concerned with the silence lingering In the car and immediately stopped the car to the side when he saw the silent tears flowing down her face, he got out and rushed to her side pulling her out to the side walk and crashed his body with hers, he now knew what she needed, he now knew all he wanted was to be there for her, he knew how hard the day was, she broke multiple times, both physically and mentally. All he wanted was for her to be okay.
“Nes?” he whispered gaining her attention “Nes, hey.” he called out after a moment of holding her and immediately sitting her down and crouching in front of her and wiped her tears with the sleeve of his dark shirt.
The pain he felt, the way his heart dropped when she grabbed his hands desperately finding something hold on to was hard to explain, even for him.
Finally coming in terms that he loved her, it was harder for him to collect himself while she was falling apart.
“Nes, I’m here, I’m here, I’m right here.” he repeated as tightened his grip on her hands seeing her need for him.
“b- bu- Bucky…” she stuttered, making him frown
“Doll, I need you to tell me what’s on your mind? Let me help you.” he pleaded one hand holding on to hers and the other caressing her temple.
“I couldn’t save them.” she mumbled, his hand moved to the back of her head and pulled her face closer to his, and rested her forehead on her.
“Genesis, what happened to Lemar-” she immediately pulled away and looked at him.
“It’s not just Lemar, it’s that man Walker killed, it’s Walker, Tony, Nat, all the victims who I couldn’t save, I couldn’t even save Pietro!” she yelled and James immediately shushed her.
“Genesis, look at me.” she hesitantly looked at him “listen to me, you’re a hero, you saved millions of people, you took down serial killers, but you can’t save everyone, you can try, but you’re only still human.” he stated sternly.
“Then why does it hurt every time?” she whimpered, James just shook his head and pulled her against him again, before he could stop himself he kissed her hair, which immediately calmed her.
“You care.” she pointed laughing through tears forcing a chuckle out of him.
“Of course I do.” She was taken by surprise with the response she received making her smile even more.
“Ready?” He asked nodding towards the road, she returned the gesture, and he moved and sat on the driver’s seat.
Genesis let the Exhaustion take over she took James’ metal arm and played with his fingers, at first he tensed at the contact but relaxed when he saw her drifting to sleep playing with his hand making him softly smile at the brunette.
I was gonna bite the head off the person who woke me up. Oh shit. Zemo, yeah okay. I groaned and opened my eyes to see James hovering over me with an amused smile.
So what? When I sleep? I sleep.
“How are you feeling?” he questioned as we walked towards where zemo was…
Ah crap, I broke down in front of him, again. “I’m sorry about earlier.” I apologized, although I didn’t really mean it cause it felt good having him there but he might’ve hated it so…did he just slap my head? “What was that for?” I cradled my head looking at him like he’s crazy…well he did admit that he was.
“stop apologizing for being human.” he stopped turning me around and looked at me, nope I should not have realized I loved him, it just makes looking at him harder, I nodded with my head down and continued walking towards Zemo.
“Thought you'd be here sooner. Don't worry. I've decided I'm not going to kill you” he informed turning to us from his Family memorial.
“Imagine our relief.” James deadpanned removing the safety of the gun.
“The girl has been radicalized beyond salvation. I warned Sam, but he didn't listen to me. He's as stubborn as Steve Rogers before him. But you... They literally programmed you to kill. James, do what needs to be done. Karli has people everywhere, and there's only one way to make sure she cannot continue her mission.” Zemo continued when I spoke up.
“I appreciate the advice. But we're gonna do it our own way.” I informed him as James pointed the gun to his face.
“Yeah. I was afraid you would say that.”
That’s when James pulled the trigger, the Disappointment in Zemo’s face knowing he couldn’t join his family was sad, but then again… he kind of deserves it.
“Ladies” He greeted at the Dora who marched in taking Zemo.
“I took the liberty of crossing off my name in your book. I hold no grudges for what you thought you had to do, Goodbye, James” I wasn’t really gonna miss him.
I walked away from the group, looking around the place, it was pretty beautiful, and soon James joined me. “hey do you think we have time for another stop?”
A/N: i was so close to throwing away my laptop cause tumblr wouldn't work. after bitching about it on wattpad it actually worked lmao.
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Ao3 Fic: Captain America and the White Wolf snippet
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Hello y'all! Since I'm not making art at the moment, I thought I should link the stuff I'm working on right now. Just a little Sambucky series I've been slaving over...
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Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Falcon and the Winter Soldier (TV)
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Karli Morgenthau/Original Female Character(s), James "Bucky" Barnes/Sam Wilson
Characters: Karli Morgenthau, James "Bucky" Barnes, Sam Wilson (Marvel), Original Female Character(s)
Additional Tags: Original Character - Freeform, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, dad!bucky, Dad!Sam, Domestic Fluff, the falcon and the winter soldier spoilers, Canon Divergence, Karli Morgenthau Lives, Karli owns my entire heart and deserved better, so im giving her better
When her parents die in an untimely accident at direct fault of the blip, Elliot "Elle" Marrick finds herself in the middle of The Power Broker's grand scheme. Five years later, Elliot is no longer under the control of The Power Broker and is making a difference, following in the footsteps of her late criminal mastermind father. When Sam and Bucky show up on her front doorstep, inquiring about a certain redheaded bombshell, it's up to Elle to decide if she wants to help aid in saving Karli or let her go.
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I see you.
Summary: Sam and the reader have a ritual for when he leaves. What happens when he leaves to do something really important and only leaves a note behind? We'll find out about that once Sam's back home.
Pairing: Sam Wilson x female!reader
Warnings: FATWS spoilers, light argument, fluff.
Word count: 1.420 words.
A/N: Am I the worst at making summaries? Yes, I am. This is my first time ever writing something from scratch in here and of course it had to be about my king, I hope you like it. Big random, the idea for this came from this song but the lyrics have nothing to do with the plot lol.
If you see any misspellings or grammar mistakes, it's just me not being a native English speaker. I'm still learning and totally open to corrections!
Please, comment, reblog and like. All kinds of feedback are welcomed, as long as they are positive or constructive.
masterlist | ask me something!
You gripped the umbrella tightly, God, if Sam were here, you would be the one in bed and he would be the one checking the noise outside the house. But he wasn’t and you were the one who didn’t want to wake up Sarah or the kids, and, consequently, were the one gripping on an umbrella as if your life depended on it because maybe it did.
At first, you thought it was kind of far-fetched having someone coming here just to scare you, but then you remembered the call you got from the Flag Smasher’s leader to intimidate you and you had to toughen up; maybe you were giving yourself too much credit, you knew how to throw some good punches and kick, Sam had taught you some moves, just in case but you were no competition for a super-soldier or any skilled person. But it was 4 AM and you weren’t thinking that clearly out of fear and that damn feeling that screamed protection mode, so you took the closest weapon and walked slowly to the door, barefoot to not make any noise and calculated enough you didn’t stop where the floor croaked.
God, if Sam were here, you’d be the one watching from the top of the staircase, but he wasn’t, he was out there saving a world that was crumbling to pieces but in which he was brave enough to save it piece by piece. You would kick his ass as soon as he got home, of course, he left that same morning and only left a note behind. You knew what he was up to, you were there on each and every step of his journey accepting what he deserves but he broke the ritual you two had, you would say the words and he would kiss your forehead, every time he left for a mission you had to do it because in case he didn’t come back it would eat you alive to not have said I love you one last time. You knew he was okay; you had watched the news with the kids and Sarah all afternoon but it still felt as if something was missing.
The noise of something falling to the floor of the porch outside made you jump; you only had a few moments to think about it before the door and opened and you started to hit whoever it was repeated times with the umbrella.
“Are you crazy, woman?” You heard the familiar voice.
“Sam?” Oh, thank god.” You said sighing and putting the umbrella down, then you remembered he only left behind a note and hit him again.
"That’s how you greet all your guests?" Sam pondered, rubbing the spot you had hit him in.
"The only guests I greet like this are the ones who go out and kick an international organization's ass and only leaves a note on my bedstand." You retorted.
"Hey, but I don't have any broken bones." He offered with a smile and opened his arms. "Maybe now I do because someone decided to hit me with an umbrella."
"Oh, so now you are a funny guy."
"It’s like a never left, baby." He said resting his arms on the small railing that adorned the porch's steps, he had that smug smile, he knew you weren't actually mad at him and even if he empathized with your worry, he loved seeing you standing in a defensive position, he loved even more how funny you looked holding a worn-out umbrella as a weapon.
"Sam Wilson you better start explaining yourself before I smack you in the damn..." You said through gritted teeth
"Hey, in my defence, I kind of knew you would've wanted to come and I couldn't risk it but you are right, I should've told you."
"Yeah, of course I am right, you should have!"
"Yeah, and you should put down the umbrella."
"Make me, I dare you."
"Oh, so you are the brave one now?" He mocked you getting closer.
"Don't forget I'm the one with the umbrella, I can smack you again if I want to." You mentioned.
Sam snorted, knowing that you wouldn’t do anything to him, he saw the smile you gave him as soon as he entered the house. One of the things he loved about you was the fact that you were transparent, like water, you had nothing to hide and if you tried to, the years you’ve spent together made him realize each and every one of your expressions.
"So, you brought home a big plate, uh? That’s cute." You said, pointing to the shield that was strapped to his back.
"Ha, ha, real funny, any chance you’ve been hanging out with a grumpy super soldier?"
"Oh, I know one, he’s hot, too bad he’s busy flirting with your sister, I ship it though. " You looked at him smugly from the doorstep, you did it, you won. There was some sort of unspoken complicity between Bucky and Sarah since they met, Sam only talked about it in a funny tone, one you recognized as jealousy and you'd be lying if you said it wasn't funny. "You coming inside?"
"I like it here, might hang out and try to get inside without getting my ass kicked." He answered sitting on the steps, taking the shield off and putting it to his left, his right hand signalling you to sit next to him.
"You think I could kick your ass?" You asked sitting next to him on the porch steps, intertwining your arms in his.
"Oh, anytime baby girl, those are some guns you have there." He poked your arms and you giggled at the gesture.
"You kicked ass today Sam. I’m very proud of you. Like really proud." You said and you couldn’t deny your voice cracked a bit there. You rested your chin on his bicep and looked up, a faint smile on his face and some tiredness on his eyes. "I’m serious Sam, what you did today just—"
"Hey, no, no, no, don’t cry, I hear you, okay?" You weren’t yet crying, but he knew it was coming, he always did.
"It’s just that I— I see you Sam and, God, do I love seeing you. I see you and I see everything you are doing. I see you and you are there, just doing the right thing and just being you because that's what you do. And today when we were watching the news I saw you, Sam, you looked, God, you looked like an angel, no kidding, — and I was like Sarah, do you see this? That's Sam! Do you see what I see? And Sarah was like, yeah, yeah, we see him—" You started to ramble and you felt Sam’s laugh roar from his chest.
"What I mean to say is that I see you and when I see you all I can see is hope". You hid your face on his arm, a few tears escaping the shit you tried so hard to keep together.
"Hey, look at me. I love you, okay?" You nodded and kissed his arm, an unspoken reciprocation to his statement, at this point, you learnt to say it without words. "And honey, as long as I got you and have the chance to see you and kiss you each morning, I see hope too."
You sat there in silence, absorbing the idea of the changes you were going to go through. Maybe you wanted to absorb Sam’s warmth and laugh for a few minutes, so when he left to save the world you wouldn’t miss him so much.
"So, if you ask me, I think I deserve a nap." He said after kissing your head.
"Babe, that's why we don't ask because you think you always deserve a nap." You said getting up and offering him your hand.
"That’s because I do"
"Yeah, you do." You guided him through the house, careful enough not to wake anybody up. You knew Cass and AJ wanted to see Uncle Sam, they were very insistent on knowing how he was and see the suit, but it was way past their bedtime and you knew that if they woke up now, they wouldn't fall back asleep easily.
"How about while we get ready for bed you spill all the juicy details for me?"
"You gonna let go of that umbrella?" That's when you realized you had taken the umbrella to Sam's room.
"Yeah, dream on it, Captain."
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you ever get sucked into a fic you’re in the process of writing and just. churn out a piece of associated material that’s ridiculously over-detailed? like yay me, I wrote a fake op-ed as Sam Wilson about the Winter Soldier, backdated to events that were never specified in canon, but it’s not gonna fuckin matter if I never get the actual fic posted... and it’s not helpful if I do that instead of my math homework
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Sunrise Doodles | Sam Wilson
summary: you decide to draw Sam while he's peacefully admiring the view outside the window
pairing: Sam Wilson x gn!reader
warning(s): none, just pure fluff :]
word count: 1.5k
Sam stared out of the window at the peaceful sunrise, his face perfectly illuminated by the orange hues. in that exact moment, his small smile caused a wave of adoration to wash over you. you grinned before taking a quick photo. you two always took goofy photos of eachother, so it was nice to take an actually cute photo of him for once.
"hey Sam?" you called out, a small smile evident in your tone. your voice snapped him out of his day dream, which was most likely about you, which caused him to great you with a small smile.
"yeah love?" he replied almost instantly, curiosity seeping through his words. he turned his body fully around to face you and offered you an encouraging smile, prompting you to carry on.
"would you mind if.... i drew you?" the question came out rather awkwardly, but it still made his eys light up with joy as he nodded rapidly. you chuckled and pulled the photo up on your phone, immediately starting on your boyfriend's infectious smile.
"is it ok to watch?" he curiously asked, to which he received a silent nod and a grateful grin for checking that it was ok.
around thirty minutes later, you finished the small doodle of his peaceful face captured in that exact moment. he came back from making coffee and stood in awe at the accuracy and detail of your drawing.
"oh my- y/n! this is so amazing!" he sputtered, still in shock, at one point, you could've sworn you saw him tear up, however the shock was soon replaced with pride and adoration, so naturally it only took him a few minutes to start rambling about how he had the best and most talented partner in the entire universe.
"i love you sam"
"i love you too dear, so much"
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*Sam enters to room to find Bucky and I wearing bright green face masks while I paints Bucky’s toenails*
Me: *stares blankly between them*
Bucky: Don’t. Say. A. Word. Birdbrain.
Sam: I wasn’t gonna say ANYTHING.
Me: you two just HAD to make it awkward….
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can you please rec some bottom!sam only fics pls?
Hi!! Yeah I can give you some!
A Different Kind of Problem
this one was in my recent sambucky rec post but it's one of my favs so I had to include it
we were a fire with no smoke
another one that was in my recent fic rec post but it's so good. it's a vampire au if you're into that, also a bit of biting. the author has a ton of good sambucky fics as well but they're not all bottom!sam
so you really wanna know how i freak it
wall sex, that's all you need to know
ain't gonna hurt you, darling (just wanna show you where it's at)
marathon sex + praise kink
I Have Kissed a Few (A Few Have Kissed Me Too)
Bucky and Sam match on a hookup site without realizing who the other is
domestic sambucky and some semi-public sex
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Come Fly With Me | Sam Wilson
PAIRING: Sam Wilson x desi! reader
SUMMARY: Sam needs your help with the Flagsmashers situation.
WORD COUNT: 2.2k
GENRE: Fluff, Angst
WARNINGS: Mentions of sex, swearing, mentions of anxiety and nervousness, mentions of death.
A/N: I'M FINALLY DONE WITH THE FIRST PART OMGGGG. The series mostly follows the plot of TFATWS but I might tweak things if I feel like it. Happy reading!
Devastation. Disappointment. Restlessness. Guilt.
A concoction of these feelings plagued Sam relentlessly as he watched the news. He didn't even know it was possible to feel so many emotions simultaneously but he felt them coursing through his veins, eating away at his soul.
Sam was always so hard on himself. He always strived to be the best version of himself and be better than he was before. There was no doubt he was one of the noblest, most righteous and reliable men to ever walk the face of the earth, probably even more than Steve. And to see the shield be given away only hours after he'd given it up broke his heart in two.
It didn't help that Joaquin had called him to tell him about the Flagsmashers' attack in Germany with a busted face. Sam was worried about the whole thing but he never showed it because he felt that this was bigger than him and his feelings were insignificant. And unfortunately, there wasn't anybody apart from Sarah to tell him that he mattered too.
He did have someone a long time ago, though. You.
Yours and Sam's relationship had ended badly, leaving the both of you broken in ways that neither of you could understand. Feelings of emptiness and longing ate at the both of you constantly, yet neither of you ever attempted to call or contact the other.
How was it possible to go from wanting to hold a person in your arms until the end of time to never wanting to see them ever again?
You'd met Sam whilst the both of you were in the Air Force. You, Sam and Riley, were an unstoppable trio. The Merlin was what they called you. Zipping through the skies with monumental grace, you were a force to be reckoned with. The three of you were the best of friends and always had each others' backs during every mission be it a standard rescue op or surveillance and reconnaissance.
Your trio had always been successful in your missions until that one time. That one damn time. A stray RPG had knocked Riley out of the sky and it shook you and Sam to the core.
But that only brought the two of you closer. You'd seek comfort in each others' arms, eventually falling into each other's beds. You were using each other to drive the pain away but neither of you gave a damn because it felt so, so good. You'd wake up to each other, limbs tangled and hair dishevelled, only thinking about how beautiful the other looked.
But it was never just about the sex for either of you. You genuinely cared about Sam and so did he. But, the night you argued about your future together, the both of you knew it was over. Forever. So, Sam left and settled in D.C. and began working at the VA.
Sam had been a lot of things in his life- a soldier, a fugitive, a hero. But he always felt he'd never been a good lover in the emotional arena. And you were a constant reminder of it and he always wished it could go back to the way it was.
But he had no idea where you were. He didn't even know if you were dead or alive or if you'd gotten dusted or if you were a part of the ones who survived the snap. And although he had Redwing, he respected your privacy enough to not locate you.
But this time, he knew he was going to need your help. Because he couldn't think of anyone better even if that someone was a reminder of his tumultuous past and the person he was still in love with.
"Torres, can you get me her file? Oh, and also any latest info we have on her. " Sam asked Joaquin.
"Yes, sir, comin' right up," Joaquin responded with his usual enthusiasm as he got to work.
He pulled up your file and handed it to Sam. "Latest intel on her says that she was last seen in Mussoorie, India."
Sam remembered how your eyes sparkled with delight each time you told him that you wanted to go to Mussoorie and settle down after you retired from the Air Force. You wanted to run a quaint little bed and breakfast in the hills, away from the crowd, hidden snugly in the verdant hills.
"Okay, then. I'm off. Keep tabs on the Flagsmashers' locations and call me the second you get any leads." Sam said.
"Yes, will do. And I don't mean to pry, but, will she agree to this? Her file says she's retired and from what I've heard, she isn't interested in this kind of stuff anymore."
"I know that too, but I've gotta try, man. She's the only one qualified enough to help us out on this." Sam answers.
"Good luck, then! I'm looking forward to meeting her, the Merlin's kind of a legend around here." Joaquin says excitedly.
"I know," Sam replies, pride and nervousness simultaneously bubbling in his chest.
Sam had tracked your exact location through Redwing on his flight. He felt guilty for searching for you this way, but he had no choice.
He smiled when he saw it was a quaint little bungalow perched on a little hill surrounded by towering deodars. He just hoped you wouldn't freak out when you saw him.
He made his way up the cobblestone staircase that led to the bungalow. It was a gorgeous little place with a roof painted brick-red and whitewashed walls. It exuded serenity and quiet to a superlative degree and Sam was happy that you were getting that. The charming rustic look made it more inviting as he approached.
As he made his way up, he saw a young boy, no more than four years old, playing in the lawn surrounding the house. What the hell, you had a kid? he thought to himself.
He went up to the door and knocked. No answer, so he knocked again, to no avail.
"Yo, trespasser, you gonna break the door?" you ask startling the man.
Sam turned around, surprised to find you looking at him from a distance, arms crossed and face twisted in a sly smirk. He couldn't believe you were standing in front of him. Never in all these years did he think he'd still be just as bewitched by you as he was the day he met you.
You looked like an absolute goddess, flowy dark locks cascading down your shoulders as they framed your face. You were dressed in a dark red kurti with a delicate golden zari border that fell to your ankles. The dress flowed as you made your way over with a graceful gait.
His chocolate brown eyes were fixated on your face, painted practically golden by the setting sun. A small bindi sat in the middle of your eyebrows and your jhumkas clinked with the most delightful sound as you sauntered over. Kohl-smeared eyes gazing at him intensely with a glimmer of playfulness in them.
"y/n, um, hey," Sam babbles.
"Hi," you respond.
"How've you been?"
"Really? If you wanted to bore me with small talk you could've just sent a fucking postcard, Wilson," you retort coldly.
You didn't know why you were being so unnecessarily rude to the man when the truth was, you were elated to see him at your doorstep.
"y/n, please, can we talk?" Sam asks.
"I know why you're here, Sam. And my answer is no."
"Please, just hear me out, y/n. You're the only person who can help me with this."
Just then, before you could reply, the little boy runs up to you and tugs at your cotton dupatta.
"Maasi, maasi! Do you want to see the mud fort I built?! It's so cool! He says excitedly.
"Of course, meri jaan, just give me a moment. This is Sam, by the way. Say hi."
"Hi, Sam! Okay bye, I'm gonna go make more walls for my fort!
"You go do that, bub. Don't get mud on your shirt, we've already lost two to the mud monster!" You call out as he runs away.
Sam was watching the whole interaction between you and the little boy intently. He knew that you'd always been good with kids and it had even come up vaguely once or twice throughout your relationship.
"He's a firebrand, that one. He yours?" Sam asks sheepishly.
"No, no," you say with a small chuckle. "He's my nephew. I've been taking care of him ever since my sister and my brother-in-law died last year.
"Oh, I'm so sorry to hear that y/n."
"Yeah, it's funny. They didn't get dusted in the snap but rammed their car into a fucking truck just a year after everyone came back," you say sardonically.
"What's his name?" Sam inquires trying to get your mind off your sister's accident.
"Krishna. He's the light of my life. Why don't we talk inside, huh? The least I could do is offer you a glass of water before I send you on your way."
You call out for Krishna before the two of you make your way into the house. It was as beautiful on the inside as it was on the outside. The wooden floors complemented the light beige walls beautifully. It was decorated in an alluringly minimalistic way with a few embroidered couches and a wooden coffee table in the centre of the room. Small circular lamps hung from the ceiling and there were shelves filled with mementoes and books. Sam saw a picture of you, him and Riley in your uniforms laughing at some corny joke the latter had cracked and smiled to himself.
You motioned for him to sit on the couch and took a seat on an armchair in front of him.
"y/n, please, hear me out. This entire thing with the Flagsmashers has gotten out of hand and you're the only person who can help me. I need you to. Please." Sam says.
"Leave it up to you to save the world. Again. Don't you ever get tired of this crap? The same shit over and over again. There's always going to be someone who wants to muck the world up and it isn't always your job to clean it up."
"Wow. What happened to you? You've always wanted to do good since I've known you. This doesn't sound like you, y/n."
"YOU! You happened to me, okay! The day you left, it fucking broke me. I quit the Air Force three years after you left because I couldn't take it anymore. The last rescue mission I did ruined me. I've realised there are a lot of people who want to cause problems and you can't keep solving all of them!" you yell startling him. "I don't even know why you're here, Sam. You should leave because there's really nothing you can do to get me to agree. I'm sorry. Goodbye, Sam."
Sam got up and without a word just walked out of the door as he did all those years before. He knew better than to argue with you and he didn't want to overstep. It broke him, but again, this was bigger than him, your happiness was bigger than him.
You were tucking Krishna into bed and a million thoughts were running through your head. You wanted to help so badly but you couldn't just up and leave.
"Maasi, are you alright?" The young boy asks snapping you out of your reverie.
"Yeah, why do you ask?" you respond kissing his tiny forehead.
"I heard you yell at Sam earlier and I also saw you crying in your room."
"Oh. I'm sorry you had to hear that, bubba. But you don't need to worry about me, I'm fine."
"I think you should help Sam. He needs your help. And I know there isn't anyone better than my brave maasi who could do that." Krishna tells you as tears form in your eyes.
"How'd I get so lucky to have you in my life, huh?" You tell him as he gives you a big bear hug.
Krishna's little speech got you thinking. He was such a bright little boy. You whipped out your phone and called Sam's number.
"Hello," Sam says groggily.
"Hey, y/n here,"
"Hey, how'd you get my number?"
"You think you're the only one who can track someone down?"
"Have you left or are you still here?"
"I'm staying the night. I'm leaving tomorrow morning."
"I changed my mind. I wanna help. I want to do anything I can. No more running."
"That's great! What got you to change your mind?"
"Just an amazing four-year-old."
"Haha. I'll text you the location and details right now. We leave tomorrow. Bring Krishna with you. He can stay with Sarah in Delacroix."
"Great. But won't it be much for her?" you ask apprehensively.
"Nah, she'd be happy," he replies.
"Okay then, good night, Wilson. See you tomorrow."
"Good night, y/n. See you."
You cut the call and look out at the sprawling expanse of hills in front of you. The gorgeous little town was illuminated with the dawn's orange hue. Fear and excitement took over your body as thoughts of the man you were still in love with flooded your mind. Sam.
Kurti: a tunic or shirt of a type worn especially by women in South Asia, shorter and typically more closely fitting than a kurta.
bindi: a decorative mark worn in the middle of the forehead by South Asian women.
jhumkas: Jhumkas are a style of earring worn by women of the Indian Subcontinent made of oxidised silver.
dupatta: a length of material worn arranged in two folds over the chest and thrown back around the shoulders, typically with a salwar kameez, by women from South Asia.
meri jaan: love of my life
all pics: Pinterest
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