#sambucky drabble

[cobrafantasies]

Nothing feels better than lying in bed with Sam. Nothing feels better than feeling just the silk sheets on his bare skin, the breath of his boyfriend by his ear, and a fingertip making lazy trails across his chest.

It could almost put Bucky to sleep, his eyelids droop lower as Sam loops his finger in a circle, then stops around his collarbone.

“This one’s new,” Sam says, voice barely above a whisper. 

“What?” Bucky mumbles, not fully paying attention.

“This freckle, here,” Sam says, pushing his fingertip deeper into the skin. “It’s new.”

The freckle Sam’s pointing to is too close to his neck. Bucky can’t look down and see it, he doesn’t try to move anyway.

“You probably just don’t remember that one," Bucky argues noncommittedly.

“Nope. I’m certain,” Sam says, resting his head down on the cushion of Bucky’s left pec. “I know all your freckles.”

Bucky huffs out a breathy laugh. Sam must register the disbelief in it.

“You don’t believe me,” Sam says.

“Course not, how can you remember every single freckle on my body?”

Sam picks his head up, stares straight into Bucky’s eyes.

“Cause I kiss them every night. I’ve counted them, all fourteen.”

“Fourteen?”

“Now fifteen,” Sam says and puts his finger back on the one by Bucky’s neck. The one he just discovered tonight.

And that’s when the moment hits Bucky. Sam’s studied his body, paid such close attention to each inch so carefully, he’s even counted the imperfections.

It hits Bucky unexpectedly, makes his eyes water a little too quickly because he’s only had very bad people pay that close attention to him. He’s only had insane people write down every detail of his existence so they can’t forget them and even they didn’t count his freckles.

Bucky closes his eyes slowly hoping the tears will dissipate and hugs Sam against his chest to get his boyfriend’s eyes off him. 

He considers for a moment whether he should admit that he’s touched by the sentiment. And he wants to believe he knows Sam’s body just as well, better than his own, but he fights the instinct instead.

“Stop counting my freckles,” Bucky murmurs.

He feels Sam smile against his skin, press a kiss to his collarbone, and then sigh. 

“Can’t.”

Bucky's mouth pulls into a smile and that only makes him want to cry more but he swallows through the tightness in his throat. He only hugs Sam tighter.

He won't say it, he can't, but he knows how lucky he is. To have a man who's counted all fifteen of his freckles.

#sambucky #sambucky drabble #tumblr fic #my fics #mysambuckythoughts

[teenagepretentiousness]

i’m so in love (i might stop breathing)

Bucky could hear him, from the other side of the door. On the phone, Steve, or Natasha on the other side. Sam’s warm laughter seeped out from under the door, causing Bucky to smile. 

He had led Sam to Paris, maybe not on purpose, but surely not by accident. He tapped on the door once, could hear the way a smile sewed itself into Sam’s voice as he said goodbye. 

The door opened slowly, a tired looking Sam poking his head out, glasses perched on his noses. 

“Can I help you?” Rather than answering, Bucky pressed himself into Sam’s space, opening the door wider as he let himself in, connecting their lips together. He felt Sam sigh against him, as he pushed the door closed with his left arm, his right in a loose grip on the ragged crew neck Sam had on. 

Bucky had Sam cornered against the desk, hands travelling down to grip the wooden surface, resting at either side of Sam. 

They didn’t talk about what it was. They didn’t talk about why they did this. Why Bucky knew exactly what buttons to press on Sam, even in the most tentative moments. Didn’t talk about how Sam let him. They just lived in a burning, fleeting moment, before Bucky slipped through the breeze passing in the window, and before Sam acted as if he had heard nothing about the man who he knew inside and out. 

Sam thought about it a lot, what it would feel like to give into what he was feeling, to tell Bucky everything he has been harbouring in his chest since he felt Bucky’s touch on his skin. 

But he was okay with this, with the simplicity of it all. It was comforting, but Sam knew it could be more. 

“Stop thinkin’.” Bucky murmured, lifting a hand to press his thumb to Sam’s jaw. 

“Got a lot on my mind.” Sam admitted, his heart buffering at the feeling of Bucky’s touch. Bucky disconnected their lips, earning a gasp from Sam in return. 

“Tell me.” Bucky persisted. Sam shot his eyes to the floor. Bucky’s lips straighten into a line. “Sam.” 

“It’s nothing, really, I promise, I’m just, horribly exhausted.” Sam sighed. Bucky nodded. 

“Rest.”

“Bucky, I’m supposed to be looking for you, right now.”

“Can’t look for me if I’m right here.” When Sam raised an eyebrow, Bucky continued. “I’ll stick around here for a few days, give you a break, I guess.” 

Sam smiled, looking up at Bucky through his eyelashes. Bucky’s breath hitched. 

Bucky realized, after a few months living in a world he hadn’t known before, that there were few things that could be precious. Bucky had discovered things recently, the more time he spent around Sam. Sam’s smile, the curve of his lips, the gap between his teeth. Sam’s laugh, the scrunch of his nose, the crease by his eyes, the sound that comes with it. The warmth of his face, the curve of his jaw. There were a lot of things, Bucky had noticed, that were precious. 

“It’s not much of a challenge, really, keeping myself close to you.”

“Yeah, alright.” Sam muttered, pulling Bucky flush against him again. Bucky smiled, pulling Sam away from the desk as he captured his lips with his. 

“If you keep moving me, I’m gonna chip a tooth.” Sam noted, making Bucky laugh. He dragged him down onto the bed, perched on the edge of the bed, hands travelling Sam’s torso.

“I love you.” Bucky breathed, words tentative and secretive.

Sam knew it was a horrible, terrible, awful idea. That this wouldn’t end in a gentle way. 

But he loved him. 

“I love you too.”

#ignore me im just being goofy #actually dont ignore me please #sambucky fic #sam x bucky #sambucky drabble #sam wilson #bucky barnes

[thatmexisaurusrex]

25 for the touch prompts!! maybe something in the between civil war and infinity war safe house era??

Awww, thank you so much for the prompt, @obsessivelymoody! 🥰

Prompt 2: Draping a Blanket on the Other

| 1 | Prompts | 3 |

He looked younger in his sleep.

Sam.

He looked so peaceful as he slept on Bucky's couch. He was even making those snores that should not be as adorable as they were.

Bucky hadn't been expecting Sam yet. Sam had been away on a mission for a few weeks, and from what Sam had said on their short call two days ago, Sam should have been on that mission for at least another week.

Bucky wasn't mad, though. He cherished whatever small piece of Sam's downtime Sam used to visit him. Sam had a permanent guest room in the Citadel, yet he kept showing up at Bucky's house in the middle of nowhere, just wanting to hang out.

If Bucky knew, he would have turned the couch into a bed for Sam. He understood sometimes Sam couldn't warn him about when a mission ended, though. That was okay. That was what Sam's spare key was for.

Sam must have fallen asleep while waiting for Bucky to come home from his morning with his goats, judging by the position Sam was sleeping in and the fact that Sam was still wearing jeans.

It felt almost wrong to wake Sam up. The angle he was sleeping in wasn't going to be good for his back or his neck, though, and Sam deserved to sleep on a pullout bed at the very least.

Bucky sat down next to Sam. He reached a hand out. He stopped.

"Sam?" Bucky said softly, "Sam, you need to wake up. Just for a moment. So I can get you on the pullout."

Bucky heard grumblings from Sam as he scrunched his face. Half asleep, Sam squinted up at Bucky. Bucky's heart skipped a beat as Sam reached his hand out and... booped Bucky's nose.

Bucky snorted.

Sam grinned.

"You're back," said Sam in a low rumble of a voice that did things to Bucky.

"I'm back?" said Bucky with a laugh, "You're back. And also. Your back - that's a terrible position to sleep in."

Sam yawned as he sat up and stretched.

"Yeah. I think I slept wrong," grumbled Sam as he rolled his shoulders and moved his neck around.

"Let me," said Bucky warmly as he zeroed in on the knot and massaged it out of Sam.

Sam melted. Leaned onto Bucky.

"When did you get so good at that?" mumbled Sam into Bucky's shirt.

"When I found out the guy who visited me never takes care of himself," said Bucky as he helped Sam off of the couch, "Now, let's get the pullout situated so you can take an actual nap."

Sam decided to just... hold onto Bucky. He loosely wrapped his arms around Bucky like some sort of sweater tied to Bucky's hips. Sam sleepily watched Bucky reconfigure the couch, moving with Bucky wherever Bucky went. Bucky liked the warmth of it. Bucky liked when Sam was near him. Bucky hoped Sam liked Bucky near him too.

"Thanks, Buck," yawned Sam as let go of Bucky.

Sam stumbled out of his jeans and flopped onto the bed.

Bucky... was not staring at Sam's ass. Definitely not staring at Sam's ass in his boxer briefs that fit Sam perfectly. Bucky grabbed one of the nearby throw blankets and draped it over Sam.

"Nap with me," mumbled Sam into his pillow, "You know I sleep better when you're next to me."

How could Bucky say no to that?

Bucky crawled onto the bed and lay next to Sam. Sam pulled Bucky closer and cuddled, tangling their legs together.

"I missed you," whispered Sam into Bucky's chest.

Bucky wrapped his arms around Sam, pulling Sam closer.

"I missed you too," whispered Bucky, holding Sam in his arms as he heard Sam's adorable snores return.

*****

This series is to celebrate Pride Month with some fun prompts. If you’d like me to write a drabble based on a prompt of you’re choosing, look at the prompts and send me one via ask! 🥰

#thank you so much for the prompt obsessivemoody 🥺 #sambucky #the daily sambucky fluff diary #sam wilson #bucky barnes #sambucky drabble #bucky takes care of sam #cuddling #sambucky touch prompt event #sambucky pride month event #sleepy sam wilson #goat herder era bucky barnes #post civil war #pre infinity war #drabble 2 #draping a blanket on the other

[sassysambucky]

To the anon asking for Sam and Bucky hug moments, I didn’t forget (apparently drafted asks delete themselves so I can’t reply?? 🥺) I tried hope u like. 💕

That time Bucky initiated a hug

~450 words, rated T

Sam didn’t want to be the guy to say, “I need a hug,” to someone already struggling, to someone who had woken up from a nightmare three times this week in the next room over. Even with normal hearing, he’d heard it. So he didn’t…

He didn’t ask, instead hugging his arms around himself as he waited for the beef stew to finish. He was on cooking duty tonight, one of the times when he could melt away into something else, letting his problems go, or pretending they could.

The feeling of loneliness hadn’t run away from him even though he was on the run. He was still in a safe house - funny that you’d call it that - alone with Bucky while Steve slipped out for supplies. It was taking a long time, there were Hydra spottings.

Inhale. Two. Three. Four.

“You cold?” that gentle Brooklyn twang asked behind him, and Sam swallowed his last breath, breaking away from his trance in the bubbling pot. Ha, he probably looked like he was brewing some kind of potion in the rustic designed kitchen, standing under a dim lamp.

“Nah, just working on my bubble bubble toil and trouble,” he said without turning around at first, giving himself a moment to put on the appropriate face for the joke. Funny how much effort that took these days.

He met Bucky’s soft chuckle but there was a deepness behind his eyes, reading Sam. They’d watched Hocus Pocus together last night before a big headache came. Then it was medicine and good night, and Sam having to pretend he didn’t mind sleeping in his own room to allow Bucky to save face.

Bucky stepped closer, looking cozy in his thick sweats as he inspected the contents of the pot. That left Sam to turn back to it, and he painfully realized Bucky wanted a further explanation. Sigh. Sam obliged. “Grounding exercise. Self soothing.”

“What’s it do?”

“Let’s me know I’m safe… on some deeper level, maybe.” The therapist’s words had grown fuzzy.

“So, you hug yourself?”

“Yeah.” To put it simply. Maybe it was that simple after all.

“Huh.” Bucky nodded, standing next to him. “Why didn’t I ever think of that?”

Sam chuckled for real this time. “You should try it,” he let his snark flow through, “Real therapeutic-“

Bucky suddenly leaned on Sam, wild, wavy hair pressed against Sam’s temple, a sigh leaving. Sam closed his eyes, a wave of heat rushing through him that made him draw in a breath. Bucky’s arms settled fully around his shoulders and waist, leaving Sam sandwiched between the warmth from the stove in front of him and Bucky behind him.

“It is therapeutic,” Bucky marveled.

Sam exhaled, hands moving over Bucky’s. “I meant hugging your own self…”

Bucky chuckled into his hair, whispering, “I like hugging you better.” And he placed a kiss on Sam’s cheek.

They stayed like that, losing track of time.

#sassyao3 #sambucky drabble #sambucky ficlet #drabbles

[glittercake]

would you ever write more sam in lingerie? 🫣

Here you go, Anon:

E | 800w | some more lingerie here | and another one here.

Getting undressed after missions is honestly the highlight of Bucky’s day. He can't wait to get rid of all the straps and leather and buckles that protect and bind him, kick his boots off and feel the cold tile under his feet. 

Sam’s quick to unbuckle the suit, too. And, alright, perhaps Bucky lied. This has got to be the highlight of his day. He always loves watching Sam suit-down, watching his worn knuckles work that zip open from his neck to his navel. The way he lets the top half hang around his waist while he stretches his arms and cracks his neck. It’s enough spank bank material for a lifetime. Never mind that he gets to take Sam home every night, have him all to himself in all kinds of dirty ways. 

But tonight, when Sam slides the zipper down, Bucky’s in for something else entirely. 

At first he’s not sure he’s seeing correctly. He is one hundred and seven goddamn years old and maybe all those years are finally catching up to him. 

He squints, tilts his head sideways, but then Sam catches him looking and smirks, and Bucky just knows he’s not mistaken.

Because, yeah, underneath the stealthy navy blue and muted silver vibranium, there’s a glimpse of scarlet lace peeking out. 

“Sweetheart,” Bucky says, dropping his gun harness on the carpet. He can’t tear his eyes away from Sam’s chest. Thinks he’s gotta be dreaming. “What the fuck is that?”

“What’s what, Buck?” Sam’s got that pretty little smile dancing across his lips. One that is all too insinuating for how innocent he’s acting. 

“No, come on,” he says, goes over. Sam lets him yank the suit open, slide it down his arms. “Jesus fucking Christ?” He looks at Sam—who has an infuriatingly content air about him—but his eyes struggle to focus on one place. 

The lace is so delicate he thinks one solid tug could rip it apart. It spans over Sam's chest, little satin strings looping the balls of his shoulders to hold it up. Bucky’s thumb slips underneath. Sam’s battle warm skin and the smooth fabric sends an electric vibration up his left arm and it gives a deep mechanic purr. 

“Oh, that got you going, huh?” Sam licks his lips. Bucky’s eyes flip up to him when he speaks. His brain’s going way past the speed limit, trying to comprehend this. “There’s more, though.” 

“Darlin’,” Bucky says, incredulous, “what more could there possibly be?” His eyes fall back to the red lace clinging to Sam’s skin. He wants to yank Sam’s body against his, has an inexplicable urge to press that dainty material against his rough leather gear and buckles, wants to see the contrast. Wants to feel it. Wants to fuck Sam just like this bent over the counter. 

And then Sam slips the suit over his hips and there really is more. God, there’s more. That was a dumb question.

Same delicate lace, same bright red, draped over the dips that cut down from his hip bones to his dick. 

“Fuck,” Bucky says, he frowns then looks up. “You had this on the whole goddamn time?” 

Sam shrugs. “Maybe. You like it?” he laughs, steps out of the suit so it’s just him in this get-up standing in front of Bucky. 

“Sweetheart, that ain’t the word.” He smooths his hands down Sam’s sides and Sam arches into the touch. Bucky slips his fingers underneath the thong’s straps and pulls, watches it dig into Sam’s skin. He lets his fingertips travel forward until he reaches Sam’s bulge trapped behind the lace. He pauses, careful with the dainty fabric, then traces his finger tip ever so gently along the thong’s seam and Sam’s shaft.

Sam shudders from the bare touch, dick twitching in its confinement, and finally leans in to kiss Bucky. And that does it, it derails any other thought Bucky has going on. He scoops Sam up, lowers him to the floor, and gets his mouth on the lace. 

Sam grabs at his hair, and for a second he regrets growing it out because it stings, but that soon melts into a feverish want in his gut. He bites down, gets a good mouthful of Sam’s pec and red lace in his mouth, sucks his nipple through the fabric. Feels Sam squirm beneath him, urging him on. 

“Shit, baby,” Sam says, reaches between them and gets Bucky free of his zip, lines them up—bare skin on lace—and then sighs like it's balm on a wound for him. “If I knew this was all I had to do to get you on me—”

“Sweetheart,” Bucky cuts him off, groans when his cock finally rubs up against Sam's. “Fuck—All you gotta do is look at me, you know that.”

Sam bites at Bucky's bottom lip, tugs at it with his teeth, and smirks because he knows. Of course he knows that.

He’s known that since they first laid eyes on each other.

#sambucky #winterfalcon #sam x bucky #drabble #samantha writes #sam in lingerie

[babygirl-diaz]

Baby Riley

((Imagine Bucky carrying little Riley around like Peter B. Parker did with his daughter))

Bucky loved bringing 4-month-old Riley to the Avengers campus and letting everyone play with her. He strapped her to his chest in a baby carrier, slung her baby bag on one side, and headed to the campus where Sam hung out with his Avenger buddies. "I don't hang out with them, Bucky. I work with them," Sam claimed but Bucky didn't care. They were his friends, so they hung out together.

When Bucky arrived today, the Avengers were in the meeting room. From what J.A.N.I.C.E, the A.I. told Bucky, they were currently having a debriefing session with Sam leading it. Bucky snuck into the room to watch Sam speak. Riley was fast asleep against his chest and he sat down beside Scott and Hope. Their faces lit up when they saw them. "Riley, hey," Scott immediately said in a hushed voice.

"She is growing up so fast," Hope said gently stroking her back.

"You just saw her last week," Bucky pointed out.

"Yeah and she has grown since then," Hope huffed but then smiled at Riley.

They were suddenly garnering more attention from others on the team.

"Rileyyyyy...." Kate said excitedly as she came running over to them and sat down on the floor in front of Bucky. "Look at her little feeties, oh my god," she added pointing at Riley's feet that were hanging out of the carrier.

"Is she asleep?" Torres asked sadly. The kid had self-appointed himself Uncle Torres to Riley.

"Yeah, she-" As soon as Bucky was about to finish his sentence a sharp cry rang through the room.

The whole room broke out into a myriad of noises as everyone tried telling him what to do. All at once. Overwhelming Bucky and making him put a protective arm around his daughter.

"QUIET!" Sam's voice boomed through the room.

Everyone obliged and shut up at once, much to Bucky's relief.

Sam made his way over to the back of the room, walking with purpose, and his lips pressed together in a thin line. He looked like a man on a mission dressed in his Captain America suit.

"Oh shit," Scott whispered beside him. "Good luck, Barnes."

"Shut up," Hope chastised him.

Bucky readied himself to get yelled at. Sam has told him in the past not to bring Riley to the meetings. Riley, on her part, was still crying, and Bucky gently rocked her to quiet her down.

Sam came to a stop in front of him and Bucky looked up at him. Sam let out a soft sigh and stuck out his arms. "Give her to me," he said.

Taken aback by that, Bucky just stared at him.

"Buck," Sam's voice broke him out of his thoughts. He immediately took Riley out of the carrier and carefully handed her to Sam.

Sam took the 4-month-old in the crook of his elbow. "Shhh.... It's okay, baby girl," he gently said to her. "Papa's got you."

Bucky's heart melted as he saw the two interact. Yeah, he sees it every day at home but he still hasn't got used to it.

Sam then started to hum to her. It sounded an awful lot like "Stand By Me." He gently rocked her as he moved around humming and then softly singing to her.

There were a few "aww's" from the Avengers but soon Riley's cries subsided and the room filled with her laughter.

Everyone broke out into cheers before Sam turned around and proudly smiled at them.

Bucky got up from the bench and went over to his husband kissing him gently. "My hero," he said before clicking his tongue. "Nope, our hero," he said hugging his family close.

#SamBucky #Bucky Barnes #Sam Wilson #Riley Wilson-Barnes #Original Child Character #TFATWS #Captain America #fanfic #aashnas drabble

[jonkentt]

a little Sambucky ~

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

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

“I sleep on the couch sometimes.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Makin’ tea. What kind do you want?”

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

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

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

“Buy anything good lately?”

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

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

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

“If this is some weird indie shit—”

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

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

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

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

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

“What’d you say this was?”

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

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

“You hate it?”

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

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

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

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

for @saryasy

on Ao3

#sambucky drabble? #back on my gay shit #sambucky fic #for your records wip

[heartswarm-void]

The Miracle Question Redux

Sam holds Bucky in a gentle embrace, kissing his boyfriend’s shoulder, where flesh meets metal, where there are scars. Sam adores everything about him.

When he was much younger, Sam asked the heavens if he’d ever find true love. The answer now lies in front of him.

“Ask me again about the miracle question.” Bucky seems lost in his thoughts. Sam carefully considers.

“Supposing a miracle occurs when you wake up, what’s something you’d like to see that’d make your life better?”

“Nothing.” Bucky’s stormy eyes are glistening. Sam looks at him questioningly.

“My life’s already better because of you.”

AO3 -> https://archiveofourown.org/works/50525890

#sambucky #sambucky fic #falcon and the winter soldier #100 words #drabble #sam wilson/bucky barnes #ao3 fanfic #ao3

[mochie85]

The Grieving Widow

One-shot Masterlist Complete Masterlist

Summary: You go on a mission to avenge the death of your husband, Steve, and best friend Nat. Pairing: Platonic!Sam x Reader x Platonic!Bucky Word Count: 1062 Warnings: No fluff, all angst. Mentions of guns and violence, blood. Revenge.

You were a mess and Bucky saw it. You hadn’t slept. You’ve barely eaten. The angry scowl on your face was leaving permanent lines that Nat would no doubt probably tell you about.

Not because she was mean, but because she cared. You knew she cared. She would rub that space in between your brows and tell you not to scowl. Just like your husband would’ve. Only, Steve would’ve kissed them away.

Not anymore. Ever since Nat and Steve left to go on this mission. You didn’t think it would be the last time you saw them, your best friend and your husband.

You cried for three days straight. On the fourth day, Sam threatened to take you to the hospital if you didn’t put food in your stomach. On the fifth day, Bucky came to you and told you of the whereabouts of Strucker. The last mission Steve was on. The man that ended your life, by taking Steve’s.

“Maybe we should hold off on doing this, Rogers,” Bucky said to you as he flexed his grip on his metal hand. “Maybe when you’re back to your usual self again.”

“My husband just died, Barnes. I’ll never be my normal self again,” you said cocking the riffle in your hand. Hearing the familiar click and load sent a tempting song throughout your body, beckoning you to draw blood.  

“OK, everybody knows the plan?” Sam came in asking both you and Bucky. “Rogers find a good spot to cover us, while Bucky and I go in. We will extract him…do you hear me, Rogers? EXTRACT him. There will be no executions tonight. He will answer for his crimes against the people. I promise you that.”

“What about your promise to me, Sam? You promised to take care of him. And he never came back,” you whispered with such ferocity that Sam had to look away. “So, excuse me if I don’t believe you.”

“I’m sorry, Angel. I really am. I…”

“He did everything he could, doll. We both did. In the end, we just weren’t prepared.” Bucky interrupted him. Sam continued to look everywhere except at you. Guilt was written all over his face. You knew it wasn’t his fault. You were just so angry. So hurt.

“You’re not even sanctioned for this mission. You’re here because we owe you. We don’t want to lose you too. So, please. Stay back, be the sniper we know. Cover our backs and I promise we’ll get the son of bitch,” Bucky exacted.

You stayed silent throughout the rest of the flight. Each of you knowing very well that you wouldn’t stay put. If you ever saw Strucker, you wouldn’t hesitate to kill him right there and then.

The jet landed and you left to scope out a hidden spot close to the landing. Bucky and Sam looked at each other with concern before they decided to just trust you. They made their way to the bunker, knowing that you were watching over them with your sniper rifle. Their own Guardian Angel.

It went by quickly. Sam and Bucky made a path towards the bunker and whatever stragglers came from behind, you would take out.

As soon as the two entered the building, you saw Strucker exit the rooftop. The blades of a parked helicopter started to turn as Strucker made his way inside.

“Oh, no you don’t. You piece of shit,” you mumbled to yourself. You waited till the helicopter made its way airborne, watching which direction it would turn. You must’ve had your own angel because it turned and headed in your direction.

You waited patiently as you looked through your scope. The chopper coming closer and closer. You timed it perfectly and let out a shot to hit the tail rotor of the chopper, sending it spiraling out of control. You squeezed one more shot and took out the pilot. You estimated where it would crash and made your way there.

The engine caught fire as soon as it hit the ground and you ran your way over there. A bloodied Strucker kicked out the glass window and was crawling out of the debris. Of course, he survived, the little leech!

You screamed as you flipped your rifle mid-air and caught the barrel. With a practiced move, like Steve had taught you, you swung the butt end of your gun against his head like a baseball bat.

“YOU TOOK EVERYTHING FROM ME!” You yelled out as Strucker struggled against fainting. “You don’t deserve to live.” You struck him again with the bottom of your weapon. “You don’t deserve to be brought in and held accountable.” He held his hands up, begging for mercy. Or hoping to stop you. Either way, you weren’t going to give him what he wanted.

“Another Avenger. As if the last two weren’t easy en-enough to kill,” he chuckled. He must have a death wish. “And who did they send this time…” he wondered out loud. His blood dripped down, welling into his eyes, obscuring his vision. “The Angel,” he sighed, almost with reverence.

“Angels?” you stooped down, your face so close to his as you whispered, “You’re not worthy of seeing angels. In this life, or the next.”

You stood up quickly, grabbed the firearm on your thigh holster, and pointed it directly to his head, “I’m the Grieving Widow.”

*~*

The gunshot stopped Sam and Bucky in their tracks. When they witnessed the helicopter hurtle, they fought their way over to the crash.

As they turned the corner, they saw you standing with your pistol still pointed at the head of Baron Strucker, who was lying down on the ground.

You were shaking. Your rage left you, leaving you frail and defenseless. “Rogers,” Sam called out to you. You jerked your head in his direction. Tears rimmed your eyes, spilling down your cheek. The familiar trail they’ve taken down your face was comforting.

Sam slowly came up to you and pried your gun away from your hands. He handed it to Bucky who was behind him, and he opened his arms waiting for you to accept his offer of peace.

You broke.

You wailed your grief as the last dregs of rage left your body and you started to fall to your knees. Sam caught you before you hit the ground and carried you around your waist. The fallen angel.

A/N: This is a drabble for @the-slumberparty. A writing warm-up. I got...

as the genre, and I got...

...as the archetype.

🏷️@emarich7 @michelleleewise @coldnique @vickie5446 @psychospore @mukagentropy @lokisgoodgirl @silverfire475 @fictive-sl0th @springdandelixn @wheredafandomat @goldencherriess @peaches1958 @salempoe @thomase1 @kkdvkyya @a-witch-with-words @mischief2sarawr @sarawr-reads @vbecker10 @peachymallows @irishhappiness @cakesandtom @simplyholl @here4thefanfics @tallseaweed @gigglingtigger

#bucky fic #sam wilson #revenge fic #marvel fanfic #drabble #oneshots #bucky x female reader #james bucky barnes #bucky fanfic #sambucky #reader insert #mcu #sam wilson x reader #steve rogers fic #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers #steve rogers angst

[chkemo]

Sam had the distinct feeling of being followed.  He couldn’t place a finger on why exactly; you never could, but his instincts were rarely wrong.  It felt like someone was breathing down his neck, eyes were peering at him from the caliginous alleyways he passed on his way home to the New York apartment he and Steve shared.

The shadow over his shoulder began a week and a half after he came home from another 3 month tour of Europe searching for the Winter Soldier.  It was a balmy night in October and he’d been bringing home groceries for a special comfort meal. His mom’s famous salmon patties and maque choux, when he felt what must have been a breeze as he strolled beyond the alley before reaching their building.  Not uncommon this time of year, but something about this particular breath of wind wasn’t quite natural. 

#SamBucky #Sam Wilson #Steve Rogers #Bucky #james 'bucky' barnes #Drabble #maybe a beginning #maybe a stand alone #fanfic

[cobrafantasies]

Most nights, Sam and Bucky lie in bed together as Sam recaps his day in full to Bucky. It's not boring, far from it, but the steady calmness of Sam's voice never fails to lull Bucky to sleep each night.

Bucky always wakes a few hours later to the sight of Sam sound asleep beside him. He has to lean over and kiss Sam's shoulder, nestle into the crook of his neck, and breathe in deeply to soothe himself back to sleep. He won't fall back to sleep if he doesn't.

In the morning, Bucky sleeps in later than Sam so he doesn't feel when Sam wakes each morning and kisses him on the forehead before and after his run. But Sam won't have a good run without it.

#sambucky #sambucky drabble #mysambuckythoughts #my fics #they're in love your honor

[teenagepretentiousness]

“This coffee tastes like shit.” Was what Sam was greeted with as he woke up. For a minute, Sam forgot about the mission. He was too busy staring at the way Bucky’s nose scrunched in disgust, the furrow of his eyebrows. His lips twist into a disappointed frown as he took a second sip. 

“Then stop drinking it.” 

“I’m sorry, have you meant me?”

“Unfortunately.” Sam shot back, causing a glare to be thrown in his direction, behind flat, brown hair that hung over Bucky’s forehead. Sam smiled, stretching under the covers, letting the so called duvet fall over his eyes. 

“This is genuinely the worst thing I’ve ever tasted.”

“Then stop drinking it.” Sam told him, voice muffled by the duvet.

“No.” 

Child. 

“James.”  Sam groaned, considering throwing a pillow at the man perched on the desk. 

“It's not my fault, you were the one to introduce to me to the wonders of modern coffee.” His voice was closer now, and there must’ve been a slight pout to his lips, given the tone of voice. 

Sam hummed. 

“Can you please just come here?” Sam asked, adjusting how he was situated just a bit. 

“On it, Cap.” Bucky muttered, pouring the rest of the god awful coffee into his mouth, before sliding into the bed next to Sam. 

“No more ‘Cap’ shit. I’m too tired to be thinking about all of that.” Sam complained, but welcomed the security of Bucky’s arms around him. 

They settled in a silence, Sam head resting in the curve of Bucky’s neck. 

“Wanna talk about it?” The mission. The mission, that shouldn’t have ended the way it did. Sam was there, Sam could’ve fixed it. The mission, where 8 innocent people lost their lives. That was Sam’s job, to protect the people that couldn’t fight the battles he could. 

And Bucky was there. Bucky knows. Bucky watched it all go down in slow motion, while Sam felt like he was in the world's cruellest action movie. 

So, really, Sam doesn’t wanna talk about it. Because Bucky was the one on the ride to the hotel, where Sam had done nothing but sob. Because Bucky was the one that stopped the car in the middle of the drive, just to hold Sam. Because Bucky, no matter how hard Sam insured he wouldn’t, somehow Bucky cracked his armour down. So, really, Bucky knew everything Sam had to say about this. 

“There was nothing I could’ve done.” It felt like the first time he had to use those words. When Riley fell out of the sky. When he’d lie, because pity made him feel worse. 

“You don’t believe that.”

“No, I don’t. But you do, so I think that's enough.” Sam didn’t need to see Bucky to know he had cracked a smile. He lifted his head, capturing Bucky’s lips in a small kiss.

And, it did, taste like awful coffee.

#im on vacation and the hotel has the grossest coffee #hence #this drabble #sambucky #winterfalcon #sambucky fanfiction #sambucky drabble #kate writes thing (unfortunately)

[thatmexisaurusrex]

Congrats on the 300!! I'd like to see the "did we just kiss?" Drabble cause it sounds so made for Sambucky 👀👀 love your writing 💖💖

Awww, thank you so much for the kind words and prompt, @iamtherealpunkbanana! 🥰 I was hoping someone would choose this one! I hope you're good with a TFATWS fic. I hope you enjoy this drabble! 💕

Prompt 2: “Did we just kiss?”

| 1 | Prompts | 3 |

"No," said Sam, giggling as he leaned onto Bucky, "You didn't."

"I did," said Bucky, nodding resolutely, "I snuck out of her window, thinking there was a fire escape, then fell into a dumpster. The dumpster didn't even have any trash. Someone had picked it up that morning. I fell into metal and garbage slime."

Sam would think that hearing a story about Bucky getting absolutely drenched in mystery gunk would dissuade him from sitting close to Bucky. But as the night went on and everyone else besides Sam and Bucky went to bed, Sam found himself closer and closer to Bucky.

He was practically in Bucky's lap now.

No.

He was in Bucky's lap.

Their legs were tangled. Sam's arms were draped over Bucky's shoulders. Sam felt Bucky's hands holding Sam securely, as if he were worried Sam would fall backward and hit his head on his own desk.

Sam should be telling Bucky to go to bed. He should be helping Bucky get the pullout bed ready. Sam had to work on the boat tomorrow. He had training he needed to do. Sam couldn't find it in himself to move out of Bucky's lap, though.

"I can't believe it was only a mild concussion," said Sam as he gave Bucky a dubious look.

"I was lucky she lived on the second floor," said Bucky, chuckling.

Sam could smell the beer on Bucky's breath. Sam wondered if Bucky could smell it on his as well. Bucky probably could. Super serum senses would definitely pick up more than what Sam could sense.

Sam felt his forehead touch Bucky's.

"Was it worth it?" whispered Sam, "Sneaking into her room to share a kiss?"

"I think it's always worth it," said Bucky, way too honest, "When you love them. When they're captivating and witty and kind. Sometimes, you need to put yourself out there. Because they're worth it."

Sam swallowed hard. Felt his adam's apple bob.

"How many people have been worth it for you?" breathed Sam as he felt their noses bump into each other.

"Not many," said Bucky as he adjusted the angle of his head, "But I can think of a few..."

It was feather-light. Sam almost didn't recognize it for what it was. The tentative movement of Bucky's head. The softness of the lips.

The kiss.

Sam couldn't stop looking into Bucky's eyes. All Sam could hear were the crickets outside chirping, an owl on the prowl, their breathing.

"...Did we just kiss?" Sam finally asked.

Bucky shrugged.

"I think you're worth it," said Bucky confidently.

Sam laughed. Sam melted in Bucky's lap.

"I definitely am," said Sam, pulling Bucky in for a deeper kiss.

*****

This is for my 300 Followers Event! If you want to submit a prompt, check out the list and send in an ask!

#thank you so much for the prompt 🥰 #sambucky #the daily sambucky fluff diary #sam wilson #bucky barnes #300 followers event #tfatws #domestic fluff #tooth rotting fluff #first kiss #sambucky drabble #drabble 2 #'did we just kiss?'

[katatonicimpression]

Pretty Smart

“That’s Doctor Captain America to you,” Sam said smugly.

“This is gonna be all you talk about for months, isn’t it?” Bucky replied.

Sam hummed in agreement. Although, despite his self-congratulatory attitude, he looked a little emotional. He kept adjusting his ceremonial cap. Nervous maybe.

“I never went to college,” Bucky said, hoping a change of subject would put Sam at ease.

Sam was getting his honorary doctorate tonight, a gift from some university to thank him for his work as Captain America and the Falcon. Bucky had been teasing him about it because of course he had, but secretly he was proud of Sam. Secretly, he felt a lot of things about Sam.

“Did you want to?”

“What?” Bucky snapped out of staring at his partner.

“Did you want to go to college?”

“Not at all,” Bucky shrugged. “It’s different now. Back then, barely anyone had a degree. Now it’s like… I dunno.”

“Like a rite of passage?”

“Yeah, pretty much.”

“Yeah.” Sam looked thoughtful, nostalgic even. “It was fun though. I’m glad I went. Both times.”

“Both times?”

“I have a Masters. In social work.” Sam said it casually. He glanced up at the stage nervously, awaiting his turn.

“You have two degrees already?”

“Yeah. It’s no big deal,” Sam looked away again, shyness flashing over his face. 

“Three degrees after today.” Bucky gaped at him. He knew Sam was smart. Smarter than Bucky. Too smart for his own good. But he was honestly shocked with how casual Sam was being about this. “Damn.”

“This isn't even a real doctorate, technically. I didn’t do the work for it.”

“What kind of-” Buck stopped himself. “No. No, I’m not letting you go there.”

“Go where?” Sam had turned to face him. He looked a mixture of genuinely modest and very confused. Honestly, it was unfair that someone could be so pretty and so smart at the same time.

“Sam.” Bucky turned serious, placing his hand on Sam’s shoulder. “You’re a superhero. You’re the bravest and the hottest guy I know and it turns out you’re a genius as well?”

“Wh-”

Sam was interrupted by the announcer calling him to the stage to give his speech.

“Go. Go on!” Bucky ushered him away. “Be proud of yourself.”

“You think I’m hot?” Sam whispered back.

Bucky cringed internally. He hadn’t meant to say that part out loud. Thankfully, he didn’t have time to attempt to explain himself. 

He watched Sam receive his sash and certificate, watched him give his speech, and watched him cry while giving his speech. He couldn’t bring himself to feel embarrassed or exposed because, really, being in love with Sam Wilson wasn’t anything to feel ashamed about. It was natural, obvious. He was so intelligent, so pretty and so damn brave. Hell, he probably wasn’t the only person in the room looking on with heart eyes right now.

And afterwards, when Sam finished his speech and left the stage. When he sidled up to Bucky with a shy smile, Bucky felt like the luckiest man in the world.

“So, what’s all this about me being hot?”

Yeah, definitely too smart for his own good.

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

Inspired by Anthony Mackie receiving an honorary doctorate. 

#sambucky #winterfalcon #drabble

[tyoho8]

Wattpad recs!! i need wattpad recs!!

bucky barnes related!

i’ve read all of woolfhoundss stuff! I’m a sucker for vampire and dbf!bucky

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #soft bucky barnes #bucky barnes drabble #mob!steve rogers #mob!stucky #menswear #marvel fanfic #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes angst #avengers x reader #sebastian stan x reader #only murders in the building #sebastian stan x plus size reader #sebastian stan x you #steve kemp x reader #sambucky x reader #bucky barnes fluff

[glittercake]

HIKING | AVIAN TELEPATHY | STUCK IN A TENT | T | nwa | 501w | super soldiers be horny; Sam can't catch a break; probably read the previous ones for context.

The tent is too small. Now, Bucky shouldn’t say that because Sam’s already got that irritated twitch to his left eyebrow. He knows the tent is too small. 

They both know because when they raided the storage barn in Delacroix, Bucky pointed to the Campmaster 700 on the top shelf that used to belong to Gideon, and Sam said, “Nah, gonna be too bulky to carry around. This one should do.” And then pulled out a tent smaller and dustier than that Volkswagen Beetle they committed crimes against the government in all those years ago.

And even that was a better time than waiting out a hungry bear in this thick summer heat, squashed in a polyester tent Bucky could basically eat and still be hungry. 

So Bucky’s going to say it. 

“The tent’s too small.”

“God, you’re insufferable sometimes.” Sam says almost immediately, as if he’d been anticipating that all along. His head sags against Bucky’s shoulder blade. There’s no heat to his tone. There’s really no point in getting worked up. They’re plastered together, chest to back, legs in an awkward tangle; arguing is moot.

“Bear’s gotta be gone by now, right?” Bucky whispers. 

“I ain’t taking any chances,” Sam says and tightens his arms around Bucky just a little more, and Bucky would think it’s cute that Sam wants him close but he knows it’s just a ploy to keep him from fighting a bear. Which he will. And can. 

“Alright look you either gotta let me go or let me feel you up, dollface. This ain’t a Glock in my pocket. We’re lying real close here.”

Bucky practically hears Sam’s eyes rolling to the back of his skull. “Christ Almighty.” He lets Bucky go.

Bucky laughs and shuffles onto his knees, tries to peel open the zipper, but it won’t budge, and the smile quickly fades. “You jammed it. Thing’s stuck.”

“Well,” Sam says and rolls onto his back, revealing a bulge in the front of his sweats and a devilish glint in his eye. “Maybe I ain’t in a hurry to leave.” 

A ravenous growl leaves Bucky, a sound he probably shouldn’t make with a bear still in the vicinity, but watching Sam all splayed out for him, his hand toying with the strings of his waistband… yeah. When it comes to Sam, Bucky’s not responsible for his behavior.

He leans down again and crawls on top of Sam’s warm body, yanking his t-shirt off in the same breath. Feels Sam’s legs wrap around him and his fingers ghost along his ribs, their hips pressed together in just the right angle. 

“Hm,” Bucky groans, kissing Sam’s neck, his pulse point, feeling it thud against his tongue, hearing it beat in Sam’s chest. “Maybe this tiny tent’s good for something, huh?” 

Sam gasps and pushes up against him. “Yeah, man, I know what I’m talking about. Gotta trust me.” 

Their bodies start rocking to a deliciously dirty rhythm. “Campmaster 700 who?” 

Sam laughs, the sound warm and happy, his fingers dragging through Bucky’s hair to tug him closer and kiss him. 

#sambucky #sbsummer2023 #drabble #samantha writes