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livingincolorsagain · 2 months

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Sambucky is on my mind again!

I can only imagine with the metal arm and being a super soldier that Bucky is a pretty heavy guy. And Sam needs to be able to catch his dumbass when he jumps from tall buildings without a plan, so he starts weight lifting to be able to carry Bucky. But that means that he needs to be able to confidently lift like 250 lbs, so he ends up getting pretty muscular from it. Cue Bucky drooling when he sees how jacked Sam is getting without realizing it's all for him.

It’s not that Bucky missed it happening; that’s just not possible with how often he’s watching Sam.

It’s just, well. It’s a gradual change, so slow it’s easy to not notice it happening.

And it’s all the same, because Bucky’s definitely noticing it now.

Sam’s just back from his morning run, sweat running down his face and stinging his eyes, so he lifts up the loose cotton t-shirt he has on and wipes at his face as he greets Bucky breathlessly.

Bucky’s brain kind of, well, short-circuits, blood rushing out and heading south. His mouth is suddenly dry, ears ringing, and he’s frozen against the kitchen counter, his eyes unconsciously following Sam as he heads toward the fridge and grabs the orange juice, drinking right from the box because otherwise he would be too perfect to be human.

Bucky takes a scalding sip from his coffee cup, burns his tongue and slams the cup down, eyes a little blurry, images of Sam’s extraordinary toned stomach and deliciously muscular arms tauntingly flashing in his mind.

He looks back at Sam, who’s staring at him with a raised eyebrow. At least the t-shirt is covering his stomach again, small mercies. Less of a mercy is the way his shorts are hugging his thighs and ass when he turns to put the juice back in the fridge.

God, Bucky is going to walk into a wall and knock himself out, what the fuck.

“Hey, Buck,” Sam says, and he getting closer, actually looking kind of worried now. “You okay?”

Bucky almost swallows his tongue when Sam’s close enough, because he can smell him now, on top of everything else, and it’s edging on a little too much, even for a super-soldier like himself.

He takes a deep breath (big mistake), tries to say, “yeah, I’m okay,” and ends up saying, “when did you get so muscular?”

Sam blinks, opens his mouth, closes it, then blinks again for good measure.

Bucky’s face burns; he wants to step away from the situation but there’s nowhere to go without pushing Sam out of the way, so he stays where he is, the counter’s edge digging into his back when he leans back into it.

Suddenly, Sam takes a step back and looks down, face twisting like he’s embarrassed about something.

“Remember Colorado?”

Bucky frowns, nods, then says, “yeah,” because Sam’s still not looking at him.

“You jumped out the window—“

“I was thrown out the window.”

Sam rolls his eyes. “You weren’t supposed to be anywhere close to that window at all.”

“It wasn’t my fault that I was thrown out the damn window!”

Sam takes in a frustrated breath. “Anyway, I had to… catch you and I… I almost dropped you, Bucky.”

Bucky frowns again. He doesn’t remember Sam almost dropping him. All he remembers was how one second he was free-falling and the next he had Sam’s arms around him, breaking his fall and carrying him to safety. He remembers how he just knew that Sam would catch him, how he didn’t doubt it for a second.

“Sam?” he asks, because he’s not sure how this has anything to do with Sam’s incredibly fantastic muscles.

Sam sighs. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but you’re kinda heavy, especially when I’m trying to catch you midair. So, I, uh. I started working out more, lifting more.”

“Oh,” Bucky says. His knees are a little weak, but that’s no one’s business.

Sam’s working out and lifting more so he could carry/catch Bucky. Bucky’s brain is about to melt right out his ears.

“That’s, hm,” he tries to say anything, because Sam is getting more embarrassed, starting to fidget.

“Look, I know—”

“Really hot.”

“Oh.”

Bucky sighs, pushes aways from the counter and wraps his arms around Sam’s waist, pulls him close.

Sam’s breath hitches. “Oh,” he repeats, and he blinks slowly up at Bucky, his eyes getting steadily darker.

“You,” Bucky says, even as his heart races, because god, Sam’s into this, too, “are going to be the death of me.”

Sam opens his mouth to say something about that, but Bucky just leans in and swallows the words right off his tongue.

They can talk later.

Now, though, Bucky is going to kiss every single one of Sam’s muscles.

read on ao3

#sambucky #sambucky fic #sam wilson #bucky barnes #onlysambucky #a writes sambucky #asks #anon #thanks for this delightful ask anon #hope you like the fic as much as i liked the ask <33

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ineffablelvrs · 4 months

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fuck you *makes your bucky barnes fall in love with captain america*

#which one you may ask. well that depends.. whos asking #bucky barnes #steve rogers #sam wilson #sambucky #stucky #mcu #marvel

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ateerys-punctuationpanic · 4 months

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When you watch Mississippi Masala and decide Sam and Bucky need to talk on the phone like it’s the 90s

For Sambucky Halloween, I wrote a one-shot and had a getting-to-know-each-other convo in there because it pleased me. It’s here if you’d like to read. Otherwise, enjoy this lovely art by @diasdelasombra

#sambucky #sambucky on the phone #sam asked what you got on #probably #sam wilson #bucky barnes #sambucky art #sambucky fan art #sambucky fanart #punctuation panic on ao3

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siancore · 4 months

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"Do you know who this is?"

I'm over here thinking about everything that is inferred by this line when Bucky says it. Sam Wilson isn't just a co-worker or some guy who's a friend of a friend. He's Sam Wilson. The Sam Wilson. Bucky comes from a time when celebrity was not so widespread. The guys he served with were fellow soldiers. He was not around to see them appear in history books. He remembered a lot about Steve from reading about him in museums. My point is, it's safe to assume that most of what Bucky learned about Sam was from actively seeking out information about Sam. I mean, even Nat didn't know Sam was part of the EXO-7 Falcon project and she knew more than most. Bucky would have tried to find out what he could about Sam in his own spare time. He knew Sam was short for Samuel. It was made clear that one of the only times Bucky and Steve spent time together off-screen they were speaking about Sam. Steve was telling Bucky about Sam and how good of a person Sam was. We can assume that Bucky actively asked questions about Sam. That they spoke about Sam at length and considering how much the shield meant to both of them, he would want to know about this man who Steve thought so highly of. Bucky also holds Sam in such high esteem because he went got the suit from Wakanda for him. Ayo probably did not even bat an eye when Bucky asked. It's for Sam. Of course it's for Sam. Bucky never asked anything for himself from anybody, but he asked for Sam. As a gift for Sam. Sam Wilson, whom Ayo would have heard him speak of.

"It's for Sam," he would have said.

"Sam Wilson?" she would ask to be sure.

"Of course."

Of course. Who else but Sam Wilson? Samuel on the official documents and when he's feeling light enough to talk shit. Sammy in his private, whispered moments. Sammy in his heart,

#sambucky #sam wilson sundays #why can't i be normal about sam? asking for me and bucky

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samcky · 2 years

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Old man learns about 21st century party games

Untold story of Sam and Bucky (part 36-?)

#do you sam?#he's asking for a friend #also would you date a man who's favorite color is triangle?#sambucky #sam wilson #bucky barnes #incorrect quotes #sbic #mine

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fiprobably · 18 days

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Okay, fun SamBucky ask game!! Send this to five other people to keep it going ✨ Say one of your favorite things about SamBucky, your favorite SamBucky headcanon, or write a tiny microfic. Have a wonderful day!! 💕

Thanks for the ask! Here are some of my favorite Sambucky headcanons:

If Sam falls first, Bucky falls harder. If Bucky falls first, Bucky falls harder.

They dance together quite a lot.

Bucky calls Sam pet names in other languages as well. I headcanon that the Winter Soldier was taught a lot of languages (as in 40+ or something), and Bucky would use those languages to nickname Sam.

Sam crossdresses from time to time just because he indulges it so much. Bucky fully supports him (this works for genderqueer/genderfluid/nonbinary Sam lovers!).

Have I mentioned dancing together.

I've read fics where Bucky is drunk, but I haven't come across fics with drunk Sam. So here's my little thought (with illustrations!): Sam is the kind to be really extra and talk a lot when he's drunk. Do what you will with that information.

#sambucky #buckysam #winterfalcon #sam wilson #captain america #falcon #bucky barnes #winter soldier #the falcon and the winter soldier #falcon and the winter soldier #tfatws #marvel #marvel cinematic universe #mcu #fi probably draws #headcanon from fi #ask fi!

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bisamwilson · 13 days

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Sam is proud to say he doesn’t flinch when he comes home to find the Winter Soldier on his couch.

The lights are off, the sun’s gone down, and Sam probably would’ve missed him if he hadn’t noticed his barbecue sauce missing from the top of the fridge of all things.

He should probably ask why the world’s deadliest assassin is sitting cross-legged on his couch, his hair tied back in a low bun and wearing one of Sam’s henleys and a pair of his old army sweats in a way that tells him he’s probably been staying here for a few days while Sam had been out searching the world for him with Steve. Instead he asks, “Did you use all my barbecue sauce? It’s polite to replace things you use if you’re gonna stay at someone’s house, you know?”

The Soldier looks up at him and shakes his head, wrinkles his nose, and Sam thinks maybe he should start calling him Bucky in his own head. “I put it in the fridge. It goes bad when you leave it out like that once it’s open.”

Sam blows a puff of air out of his nose, amused but not willing to laugh just yet. “Are you my roommate now? Any other habits you don’t care for?”

Bucky shakes his head again, just slightly enough for Sam to barely catch it in the dark. “You have a comfortable couch.”

Sam sighs and goes to the hall closet to get him a blanket. He wonders if being the retired fist of HYDRA makes enough to split rent 50/50.

#idrk what this is i just rewatched catws for the first time in years the other day and really wanted awkward and odd bucky pestering sam #post catws and pre civil war #in my head project insight happened like less than a month ago when this happens #and what follows is basically sam harboring an international fugitive and hiding it from the law but more importantly from steve #and bucky being meticulous about cleaning the house and being a good roommate #anyways #thanks for the ask sian!!! it was fun to write a little bit with no pressure of it like. being a whole thing #otp: i’m coming with you #sambucky #sam wilson #bucky barnes #microfic #siancore #ask #marvel

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firstelevens · 1 month

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No. 20 from the eras tour prompt list for sambucky ? ?

did I hear someone ask for a Sweet Home Alabama Louisiana AU? no? well I wrote the start of one anyway, so here it is

20. all your dirtiest jokes

Pebbles go flying as Bucky pulls his rental up in front of Sam’s house. He kind of wishes there was the satisfying screech of tires on asphalt to emphasize his mood, but he slams the car door twice as hard to make up for it, and feels just a little bit better afterwards.

Back when they were kids, the Wilsons’ place had been close enough to the neighbors’ houses to wave at them from the porch. The house that Sam bought when he came home from his first tour is set back a lot further than that, wooded where it doesn’t back up onto the water, so Bucky has no compunctions about getting a little shouty.

“Sam Wilson, I know you’re in there!” he calls out, walking up to the front door. “You can dodge my calls as long as you want, but I’m not going anywhere until you open up.”

It’s not a big house, and there’s at least three open windows, so there’s no question that Bucky’s voice is carrying through loud and clear, but there’s no response. Bucky raps sharply on the doorframe.

“You can’t avoid me forever, Sam. I know this town just as well as you do, and I will follow you everywhere.”

It takes another five minutes, but finally, Bucky sees a figure approaching through the frosted glass pane on the front door. When it swings open, he’s met with a bare-chested Sam Wilson, breathing heavy from a workout as he pulls his earbuds out of his ears.

For all that he was yelling a second ago, Bucky suddenly can’t seem to make words come out of his mouth. To add insult to injury, Sam seems perfectly unaffected by the sight of him, leaning against the doorframe and crossing his arms over his chest.

“Bucky Barnes,” he drawls, and Bucky hates how comforting that voice still is after all this time. “What can I do for you?”

In a second, the ire comes flickering back to life. The nerve of Sam, to ask that question when he knows perfectly well the only thing that Bucky’s been asking him for for the past year.

He holds up the envelope that’s the whole reason he had to drag his ass back here, a thousand miles and twenty years removed from home.

“You could start by giving me a fucking divorce.”

Bucky spent so long working himself up over this, back in New York and on the plane here and on the almost-two-hour drive from New Orleans. He’d written and rewritten a hundred different speeches, rehearsed so many arguments with the Sam in his head that he was sure he’d know exactly what to say.

But now he was here, and he’d gone and delivered what should’ve been the last line of his scathing speech way too early, and what more was there to do except stand there on Sam’s porch and glare at him expectantly?

Sam, for his part, looks at Bucky consideringly for a moment, then peers around him to look out towards the yard. “You should come inside,” he says, and then steps away, leaving the door open.

The petty part of Bucky wants to refuse, wants to make a nuisance of himself right here on the porch so Sam can’t ignore him, but then he stops to take in his surroundings for longer than a second. The air is thick, the heat more sluggish than it was when his flight touched down. Beyond the trees, the sky has gotten darker. It’s been a while since Bucky lived on the bayou, but the signs of an oncoming storm haven’t changed.

He huffs and steps into Sam’s house, closing the door behind him just as thunder rumbles in the distance. It’s cooler inside, at least, and as Sam moves further into the house, Bucky figures he’s supposed to follow. He’s still not completely over his need to be a nuisance—or so he tells himself—so he goes slowly, glancing around at the house that Sam bought long after Bucky wasn’t a part of his life anymore.

Bucky knows it’s a completely different building, but part of him still expects that it’ll be the house that Sam grew up in, all warm wood and quiet chaos. Somewhere in his head, he thinks that if he just went up that staircase in front of him, he’d end up in Sam’s childhood bedroom, sixteen years old and laid out on the floor with the boombox between them, laughing at the dirty jokes that Sam heard in senior calc or trying to figure out just what the deal was between their grade’s latest on-again, off-again couple.

But this isn’t that house, Bucky reminds himself, and this isn’t back then. He’s not looking to go back in time; he just wants to go forwards, and he could if Sam would just cooperate.

“What happened, you get lost in that hallway?” asks Sam, when Bucky finally makes it to the kitchen. He doesn’t bother answering, but Sam’s back is to him, so there’s no way to tell whether he’s even noticed. “Hey, cream and no sugar, right?”

“What?”

Sam turns around with a mug of coffee in his hand, and Bucky’s pretty sure he can’t hide how he immediately perks up when the cup is set in front of him. For a second, he thinks about telling Sam that he does take sugar now, just to be contrarian, but then he remembers he’d actually have to drink it and throws that plan out the window.

“This is fine, thanks,” he eventually says, setting the envelope on the island and picking up the coffee. He hasn’t had caffeine since before his flight this morning, and he can feel the first sip right down to his toes. His eyes actually close for a second, and when he opens them, Sam is back on the other side of the counter, looking amused. There’s no mug in his hands.

“You’re not having any?” Bucky asks. “What’d you do, poison it?”

Even if he did, Bucky’s not convinced he’d be able to put it down. It’s really good coffee.

“I will,” says Sam. “But my Mama would kill me if I entertained company like this, so I’ll be right back. Make yourself at home; the view’s nice from the family room if you missed the water.”

He breezes out before Bucky can argue, his footsteps thudding up the stairs between one sip of coffee and the next.

After a moment of looking around incredulously, waiting to see if maybe he’s being pranked, Bucky decides this is just Sam trying to annoy him into leaving, and he won’t let it work. He marches into the family room just as the rain starts in earnest, and just to spite Sam, he turns his back to the French doors and surveys the rest of the room. There’s art hanging up, intermingled with family photos. Lumpy ceramics that are definitely grade school art projects sit beside beautiful crystalline sculptures, tall and spiky and somehow familiar.

Along one of the walls is the credenza that Bucky recognizes from Sam’s parents’ house, the one that Mr. Wilson had hauled home from an estate sale and refinished just because Sam’s mother had lingered beside it for a few seconds longer than anything else. It’s a different color now than it was before, but Bucky would recognize it anywhere. Sitting on top of it are what Bucky guesses are the important photos: Sarah’s wedding, Mr. and Mrs. Wilson on the boat together, Sam with a toddler beside him and a baby in his arms.

Furthest to the left is a picture of the dock behind the Wilson house. Two figures sit at the end of it, leaning into each other in the sunshine. One of them wears a t-shirt, gangly arms braced behind them. The other has a letterman jacket on, and that’s what tips Bucky off when he picks up the frame to look at it more closely: that’s him and Sam, sitting out where they did almost every day after school. Sam had gotten his varsity jacket for the baseball team when they were sophomores, and Bucky was pretty sure he’d worn it more often than Sam had. He’d always liked the way it felt on his shoulders, and when fall rolled around and the wind blew in a little cooler off the water, Sam always passed it over to him without needing to be asked.

They’d gotten a little more refined, once driver’s licenses were acquired and curfews were lengthened. Sam would drive the Wilsons’ old pickup truck a little ways out of town, to an empty plot of land flanked by trees on one side and water on the other, and they would sit and soak up the wind off the water until they could both breathe a little easier. Bucky had started thinking of it as their piece of the island, the safest place he could ever remember being.

When the future had barreled towards them with no signs of stopping, it was where Sam had driven them, nothing around but the birds in the trees when he quietly suggested his plan for getting out of Delacroix and taking Bucky with him. Nobody else had been around to see Bucky fling his arms around Sam’s neck and whisper a muffled yes into his shoulder, either: both of them a little bit scared of the future but determined to make it better for each other.

Maybe they can be reasonable about this. Maybe he and Sam can look at each other and see exactly what the other person needs, the way they did when they were younger. Maybe there don’t have to be questions and discussions and the kind of passive aggressive emails they’ve been exchanging through lawyers for the past year.

The rain is still coming down hard, lulling Bucky into a daze, so he can’t be blamed for the way he startles when Sam’s voice sounds from behind him. He scrambles to grab the picture frame before it falls out of his hands, setting it down and taking a beat before he turns around.

Sam is holding the envelope with the divorce papers in his hands, but Bucky has seen his ‘I give up’ face and that definitely isn’t it.

“The entire year that we’ve been going over this, I’ve asked you the same question, over and over, and you’ve never answered,” Sam says.

“Fuck,” says Bucky, scrubbing a hand down his face. “This? Again?”

“Yeah, again,” says Sam. “Because if I’m getting a divorce, I at least deserve to know why. I deserve to know what changed.”

“I have told you every single time you asked, Sam. Nothing changed. Nothing changed, because this was never a real marriage, and you know that. We got married so we could both get the fuck out of this town, and so I could stop being so terrified all the time, and we did that, and now we’re done.”

Sam crosses his arms, setting his jaw, and it occurs to Bucky that this is the first battle of a long war. “We did all that fifteen years ago, easy. That’s not what this is about. What changed, Buck?”

But Bucky can’t answer Sam any more now than he could the first time he asked that question a year ago. He can’t remind Sam of all the things he missed out on because he was tied to Bucky, he can’t bring up Riley or Sam’s parents or all the little ways that Bucky managed to steal things from him without even trying, because Sam would never see it. Even now, squaring off against each other with no possible middle ground, Sam would never see it, so Bucky can’t say it.

“Just sign the damn papers, Sam,” is what Bucky says instead.

It’s the first time he’s ever evaded the question in person. Somehow when he pictured Sam reading all those emails and messages he’d sent, Bucky had never imagined a flicker of disappointment on his face, gone as soon as it appeared.

Sam turns to set the envelope on an end table and picks up a wristwatch from beside it, doing up the strap before he turns around again. When he does, he’s got a determinedly cheerful smile on his face, the kind that Bucky has always known meant trouble.

“Gee, Buck, I wish I could, but as it happens, I’m running late for something,” he says, with an exaggerated look at his watch. “Maybe later?”

He’s already heading for the door, leaving Bucky to hurry after him. “What do you mean you’re late for something? Where the fuck are you going in a hurricane?”

Sam snorts. “You’ve been away too long. This is barely even a storm.”

An enormous crack of lightning punctuates his words, and Bucky raises his eyebrows.

“It’s a drizzle,” says Sam, pulling on a jacket. “And I have a date.”

Bucky is not entirely prepared for the feelings that those words stoke in his chest, but worse still is what Sam calls out before the door swings shut behind him.

“Guest bedroom’s upstairs, second door on the left. Don’t wait up.”

He’s not entirely sure how much time he loses, fuming in the foyer of Sam’s house, but eventually, that rage sharpens into something else entirely as he remembers what he yelled out standing on Sam’s porch half an hour ago.

He knows this town just as well as Sam does.

He knows this town just as well as Sam does, and unless fifty years of corporate development hit Delacroix in the last fifteen, there’s only one place to take a date if you’re an adult who doesn’t want to get accosted by the entire senior population of the island over the course of your evening.

Bucky pulls his keys from his pocket and and umbrella from Sam’s coat closet. If Sam means to drag this out, Bucky’s going to make sure he feels every single second, until he decides for himself that this marriage is more trouble than it’s worth.

(And if, before he leaves, he swaps his comfortable traveling clothes for a short sleeved button down that’s a size too small and not buttoned enough, well, nobody ever said Bucky was perfect.)

#sambucky #ok admittedly i lied emma did in fact cheerlead the writing of this and encourage me the whole way but what's new #this is truly just like. the opening half a chapter of this au but I have THOUGHTS #to be clear the rest of it is never getting written unless a miracle occurs #but here have this nonsense on the occasion of bonky's birthday #zainab does ask meme things #taylor swift prompt fics

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fandomfluffandfuck · 1 month

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Help, i fell down a Marvel rabbit hole.

So the Endgame dilemma with Steve's decision had me thinking about other 'happy places' for Bucky and of course there's the obvious with Sam after TFWS but can we just for a minute think about Bucky maybe refreshing something nice from his time in recovery in Wakanda?

I found not a lot of fics but the thought of Bucky getting back there and kinda warming up with M'Baku again? This pairing just has something to me, especially with the whole grumpy but secretly subby White Wolf meets sarcastic domineering great Gorilla M'Baku...

Why would I help, lmao? I'm at the bottom of a very similar hole. The more the marrier! Welcome to the trash pile 💀💀

All good options, all good options, but I will say, anon, I welcome you to fully embrace the exhilarating option of: completely ignoring the events of Endgame.

As captivating as the idea of subby white wolf and domineering gorilla M'Baku is 😮‍💨... as much as I love all the ship content that has come out of Sebastian's and Mackie's banter as Bucky and Sam... I am weak for stucky. It's 🤌🏻everything about them🤌🏻 The childhood best friends to lovers, the wartime sweethearts, the going against the whole world for each other, the dying for each other, the living for each other.

Okay, so I'm laying my cards fully on the table to say that I hate Endgame, explaining why I like to ignore it. And with that being said, here are some anti-Endgame (some of them also straight up anti-steggy/anti-peggy) related metas that I find thought-provoking that I think you might, too. They're just to kick around the idea if you're interested in a different perspective that comes from what I see as deeper in the fandom (idk how true that is,though, lol)--something you might not have come across yet if you're new to this rabbit hole. Obviously, you don't have to read these, though! And I'm not saying you can't ship sambucky or Bucky x M'Baku. You're totally welcome to! I see the appeal myself 👀

Anyway, here:

Bucky's insecurities

No mourning of Steve

Secrets between Steve & Peggy

Endgame destroying Steve's character

More character destruction

Steve choosing Bucky

More stucky devotion

I'd rather Steve die

The no-homo-ing of gay ships in Hollywood

Steve and loyalty

Steve, the shield, Bucky, and Peggy

Steve's ending doesn't make sense (essay)

The Bucky Steve leaves behind

The look on Bucky's face

Uhh... I may have gotten carried away with the links. Listen, I just feel strongly, okay 💀💀

If you do find any good M'Baku and Bucky fics, feel free to send them my way 👀

#asks #bucky barnes #steve rogers #stucky #anti endgame #meta #bucky x m'baku #sambucky

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jemgirl86 · 15 days

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SHANA! 💕 For the SamBucky ask game: either 🚪 Roommates or 💥 A Surprise Encounter please

Hi, Mexi! I chose A Surprise Encounter, and then kind of ran with it. Sorry for the wait lol.

SamBucky AU, 11K Words

Summary:

“Wilson?”

Bucky sounded surprised, but pleasantly so, and for some reason that had Sam’s eyes closing again while he silently counted to ten.

“Fancy meeting you here,” he said, grinning down at Sam. “What’s going on?”

Sam opened his eyes and sighed, but he also leaned back and settled into his seat. Forget moving; he wouldn’t give Bucky the satisfaction.

Instead, he frowned at him and shot back, “What does it look like?”

Or: Simpin’ ain’t easy, but somebody’s gotta do it… and that somebody is Bucky.

#sambucky #sam wilson #bucky barnes #thanks for the ask 💞

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livingincolorsagain · 2 months

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I'm a sucker for soft Bucky. The problem is that the general public only see him as scary and intimidating because he has history's worst case of Resting Bitch Face and he's kinda shy. That is until Sam starts posting pictures of him on his social media accounts. Some pictures of him playing with cats at a shelter, a picture of him first thing in the morning still waking up, one of him mid laugh at an awful joke he made just to annoy Sam. Any evidence of him being a little shit but also being kinda childish. So many people forget he was only 24 when he went to war.

He’s the thing about Bucky. He was so young and so lively when he was drafted, but that was so long ago and he’s not that person anymore, most days that person doesn’t even seem real. Except, well. Sam brings out that side of him. Sam makes him blush and crack jokes; he makes him feel comfortable enough to show his softer side. He can sleep through the whole night, not a single nightmare in sight, when he has Sam in his arms. Sam makes him want to dance again and flirt and just be in love, loudly and happily.

The pictures weren’t even supposed to happen. Sam took those pictures/videos to tease Bucky about how he was cooing at the cats, except when he watched them back, he absolutely melted about how smiley and happy Bucky looked, cheeks flushed and eyes crinkling at the corners. And he’s not surprised that everyone else reacted the same way to them when they were posted to the avengers instagram account or whatever.

So yeah, I’m a sucker for soft Bucky, too.

#bucky barnes #sam wilson #sambucky #asks #anon

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thatmexisaurusrex · 26 days

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For the Sambucky romance ask: 💕

SamBucky Romance Asks

Ooh, "💕 Who Fell First"! Great option, Leslie 😆 It was so good, I accidentally 😂 wrote enough to post on AO3, so it's on there too 😂 I hope you enjoy this little fic! 🥰

Link to AO3 version!

Plum Jam

Sam hadn't meant to bump into the man when he was at the grocery store.

Honestly, Sam's entire day had been a bit of a mess.

Sam had talked to Steve about Riley earlier that day. And it wasn't that Sam didn't like thinking about Riley. Sam loved to remember the ridiculous dad jokes Riley loved to tell; he loved how Riley would find a way to tangle himself in Sam's personal space whenever he had the opportunity; Sam loved how Riley's arm always rested on his chest when they slept like a comforting weight.

But thinking back to that moment.

Back to the fall.

Sam always forgot how much pain that dredged up in him. How it could feel as if that guilt and heartbreak were fresh again, like a reopened wound.

Sam had asked to go home early when he realized how unfocused he was at the VA after that. He had gone home and realized he had no food, and without really thinking about how he could have just ordered in, decided to go to the grocery store.

And now, Sam was bumping into random strangers.

"Sorry," said Sam, frazzled as he noticed and picked up the plum jam on the ground that had thankfully not broken during the fall, "I'm all over the place. Here."

Sam extended the plum jam to the man.

The man wore mostly leather, with a baseball cap on greasy, long hair that needed a brush and a mask Sam assumed had to be heavy duty - maybe the man had a cold?

The man didn't look down at the jam.

No.

He stared at Sam with piercing blue eyes that pinned Sam where he stood. He stared at Sam as if Sam were the first person he had seen after a long coma. He started at Sam as if Sam had just moved mountains, had just performed a miracle.

He stared at Sam like Sam was the hottest man he'd ever seen in his life.

Sam's face heated at that thought, because, no, not everyone Sam bumped into at the grocery store thought Sam was hot. Sam wasn't going to feed into that idea.

"I'll... put it back on the shelf," said Sam, about to place the jam back before the man's hand instantly reached for the jam.

His hand wrapped around both Sam's fingers and the jam.

"Bucky!" blurted the man, still holding the jar of jam with Sam.

It felt like they were holding hands.

Sam couldn't find it in himself to let go.

"My name is Bucky," said the man as if he was only certain of that fact at this very moment.

Sam couldn't help but answer back, "I'm Sam."

Bucky didn't look down at the jam. He kept looking into Sam's eyes. Sam couldn't keep holding onto the jam with this man, could he?

"You like plums?" asked Sam, which sounded awkward when he was saying it.

"Do I - " Bucky started before turning his gaze to the jar, "... I guess I do."

Weird way to answer that.

"My Ma, when she was very young, used to go to this one stand in Constanța that had these fresh plums," continued Bucky, his voice soft, "She would look everywhere for plums that reminded her of home. When she found some we could afford, she would scrounge up whatever supplies we had at home and try to make găluște cu prune - plum dumplings. She could never make them as well as her bunica, but I always loved them."

Sam couldn't see the smile, but he could feel it. This man reminded of home and family by something so small.

"We had this pecan tree in the back of our house - we still do, my sister owns our family home now," Sam explained, "And my mama would have us help her pick pecans and make pralines. It was usually during a Saturday afternoon and our entire house would smell like pralines for days. She talked about how her own mama had taught her, and her mama's daddy had taught her. And when I miss her, sometimes I'll buy a thing of pecans and try to make pralines."

"You're beautiful," Bucky said, stumbling before correcting himself, "That's beautiful. That's."

Sam really needed to stop basically holding hands with this man.

Bucky was wearing these gloves, these fingerless gloves. Sam wasn't sure if he had ever seen fingerless leather gloves before, but here they were, on this man.

There was a distinct contrast between the gloves and Bucky's fingers.

The gloves were smooth; a soft, thick black leather that felt almost comforting.

Bucky's fingers were calloused to hell and back. They rubbed on Sam like a strangely addictive sandpaper. They radiated heat; they were almost scorching to the touch without the leather. But it was a nice heat; the type you nestled in after a long, tiring day at work.

Sam wanted to crawl into that heat and close his eyes.

Fuck.

Why was Sam still holding onto this jar?

"I'm not even sure why I'm in this aisle," Sam confessed, "I meant to just get myself a roast chicken."

Which sounded sad. It was a little sad. But hey, a man can live alone and eat pre-cooked chicken if he wanted to.

"They roast the chicken for you?" asked Bucky, as if he had never been to a grocery store in his life.

"Yeah. They do," said Sam, still holding the jam with Bucky, "I usually shred it up, put it on some rice with some veggies I cook with the rice. Shishito peppers and onions and garlic. Pretty simple easy meal."

"Sounds delicious," said Bucky, still gazing into Sam's eyes as if they were the only things for miles.

"It can be," said Sam as he finally, finally, let go of the jam, "I should probably get that chicken for it. Hope you like the plum jam."

"Yeah," said Bucky as he straightened his back and cleared his throat, "Yeah. Thank you for the jam."

Sam walked away from Bucky. He could still feel Bucky's gaze on him as he left the aisle.

#sambucky ask game #sambucky #sam wilson #bucky barnes #sambucky fic #first to fall #meet cute #tooth rotting fluff #canon divergent catws #past sam wilson/riley #my fics #Plum Jam

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babygirl-diaz · 10 months

Note

Steve and bucky seeing sam wearing Steve t-shirt and bucky's pants

Oooooh they both lose their minds a little when they see Sam in their clothes.

Sam: What are you both staring at? Bucky: You're wearing my pants Steve: You're wearing my shirt Sam: Uh... yeah? I ran out of clothes. Running a load in the washer right now. Bucky: 👁👁 Steve:👁👁 Sam: Why are you two looking at me like that? Do you want me to take these off? Steve: No! Bucky: Yes! Steve: What do you mean, yes?! I thought we liked him in our clothes... a little too much. Bucky: No, we love him in our clothes but we also want to take it off him. Sam: HE is standing right here. Steve, Bucky: Sorry, baby. Steve: You should wear our clothes all the time. Bucky: Yes, throw all of your own clothes. Sam: You two are idiots. *walks away*

#sam wilson #bucky barnes #steve rogers #allcaps #samsteve #sambucky #samstevebucky #ask

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askstevella · 12 days

Text

Things my husband says 🐾

—Husband!Steve Rogers x Wife!OC

~ god help Stella 😅

Stella: Please tell me you didn’t drag Sam and Bucky into this.

Steve: I didn’t drag Sam and Bucky into this.

*the doorbell rings*

Stella: *cross her arms* Who’s at the door?

Steve: *smirks* I think you know.

———

Steve: What’s does IDK, WDYM and ILY mean?

Stella: I don’t know, what do you mean, I love you.

Steve: I love you too but you’re not gonna be any help, I’ll just ask Sam.

Stella: I-

———

Kendall: *tapping on the table*

Steve: *tapping back*

Stella: Stop that please.

——-

Steve: What would you do if I died today?

Stella: I’d die tomorrow.

Steve: Marry me.

Stella: Already did.

———

Stella: I hate you with every inch of my body right now.

Steve: That’s not a lot of inches.

Stella: I-

———

Sam: *at Stark party* Uhh I think we lost him.

Bucky: No we haven’t. Watch this.

Sam: Huh?

Bucky: *shouts* Your wife is useless piece of sh-!

Steve: *pops out of nowhere* SAY THAT AGAIN MOTHER—

———

Stella: So Steve got drunk last night.

Thor: Oh no.

Stella: And tried to set our marriage certificate on fire.

Steve: Good luck trying to return me without the receipt!

———

Steve: Did it hurt?

Stella: *rolls eyes* Let me guess, when I fell from heaven

Steve: No.

Stella: What?

Steve: *smiling* Did it hurt when you fell for me?

—————

Liane: Hey what are you getting Steve for his birthday?

Stella: I am married to Steve and gave him 2 kids, that’s enough presents to last him for a lifetime.

Steve: Hey, you married Captain America, you didn’t do so bad yourself.

————-

Stella and Bucky: *kidnapped by Hydra and HIVE*

Strucker: Soon the Captain and his team will arrive, then will see what true power tastes like

Bucky: Let us go asshole.

Strucker: Not a chance—

HIVE Agent: *hears guns blazing through the halls, grunts and screams of stuff being blown up* Uh sir, who was that?

Bucky: Your fucked.

Stella: *grins*

Steve: *bust the door open as he snarls* Say your last prayers, Strucker!

————

Stella: *looks at him while he’s drawing and mutters* I’d date you.

Steve: *smirks, definitely heard her* What?

Stella: *blinks and half scoffs* I said, I hate you.

Steve: *smiles to himself* I hate you more.

————

Bucky: *drunk on Asgardian liquor* Sam is the hottest person I ever met.

Steve: He is your fiancé.

Bucky: Bullshit. I can’t stand the guy.

Steve: So why did you just say find him hot then?

Bucky: Cause I got eyes, Steve.

————

Steve: *under his breath* I don’t wike it.

Natasha: *gasps*

Steve: Nat don’t—

—————

Stella: *at 3am reading* Wow, some few hours earlier some couple just tried to kill each other in their own home. Can you imagine someone ever snapping like that?

Steve: *trying to fall asleep glaring at her* I can.

—————

Steve: If I dislocated John Walker’s arm, would they arrest me despite being the original Captain America?

Stella: Yes. Yes they could.

———

Steve: I’m dying!

Stella: WHAT?

Steve: -of hunger!

Stella: Oh thank heavens.

~~~~~

~~~~~~~~~

We might need a Steve one soon 🤔 what do we think? Which couple is next? Liane & Ethan? Rose & Finn? Peter & Rei?

Please like, comment and share 🫶🏼

Tags: @missstrawbs2001 @purpleprincessonfyre @meiramel @gcthvile @rickb-chaos @gaminggirlsstuff @wizzzardofoz @cherrysft @thechoooooosenone @luna-d-marsh @rooster-84 @sherloquestea and etc

#sambucky #steve rogers x oc #steve rogers #stevella #ask the super spouses #askstevella #ask blog #marvel incorrect quotes #mcu x oc #anne hathaway #chris evans #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers x original female character

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