#sbvday2024 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sambuckylibrary · 3 months

Text

SamBucky Valentine's Day Bingo 2024!

The @sambuckylibrary will be holding a two-prong Valentine's Day bingo event!

This event is not just for the creators, but for the commenters. You may either fill your bingo card by creating for the event, or fill your bingo card by commenting on your favorite SamBucky pieces.

The event will start on February 1st and run until February 29th. During that time, we will be reblogging and sharing the work you guys create here on our blog as well as any comments you post about.

If you're a creator, can post fanfiction, art, moodboards, podfics, edits, fanfic lists, etc. If you're a commenter, post about the piece you commented on.

It’ll be a low-stakes event. No need to sign up. Just remember to tag @sambuckylibrary in your post for each fill, and we will be tracking #sbvday2024 for reblogs.

If you are posting on AO3, please add it to the SamBucky Valentine's Day Bingo 2024 Collection.

The Bingo Cards are:

FAQ

What is this?

It’s a SamBucky bingo event.

Is there any pressure?

No pressure at all. Fill one prompt. Fill all the prompts on every bingo card. Do however many you please. The only thing we ask is mark your comment fills on a commenter bingo card and mark your creator fills on a creator bingo card.

Can I fill more than one prompt with one piece of art/one fic?

Yes! You can fill one prompt with one piece of art or fic. You can try to fill all nine prompts on the card at once with one piece of art or fic. If you can fill every single prompt from every single bingo card in one fill, that’d be wild but it’s okay by the rules. You can do any number in between.

Are there any prizes for making anything for this event?

Just the satisfaction that you made something cool.

Is it just SamBucky?

Yes please, just SamBucky. There can be side ships, but the main ship should be SamBucky.

How long will this event run?

It will run from February 1st and run until February 29th.

I heard there are badges I can use for each fill?

There are! Here they are:

Bingo Card #1:

Bingo Card #2:

RULES AND GUIDELINES

What are the guidelines for the bingo?

I will be borrowing some of this from the MYSU Valentine’s Day Bingo 2022 Guidelines, since they were fantastic.

For Everyone:

1. Remember to @sambuckylibrary in the post as well as #sbvday2024.

2. Please also tag the square you’re filling (for instance, if the square is “Mutual Pining”, use “#mutual pining” as one of your tags when posting about it on Tumblr).

3. If you’re uploading to AO3, please:

a ) Say somewhere which prompt you’re filling.

b ) Add it to SamBucky Valentine's Day Bingo 2024 Collection (SamBucky_Valentines_Day_Bingo_2024).

For Artists:

1. Create at least one piece of new art that can’t have been posted anywhere else before this.

2. All visual art forms are welcome:

a ) Gifsets, at least 3 gifs.

b ) Aesthetic boards or moodboards, at least 4 images each.

c ) Drawing/painting, that is not a sketch.

d) Fan video.

e) Graphics edit.

For Authors:

1. At least 500 words.

2. Posted on Tumblr or AO3.

3. Can be part of a series, but should work as a standalone.

For Podficcers:

1. The podfic should at least be 5 minutes long.

2. It should be posted on either Tumblr or AO3.

3. The podfic can be of a fic made for the event, a fic not made for the event while still adhering to the prompt, or a notfic.

For Fic Rec Lists:

1. You must have at least five fics or podfics on the rec list.

2. Make sure to give brief descriptions of the fics or podfics as well as their rating and wordcount.

For Commenters:

1. Any amount of comment counts, from a heart emoji ("❤️") to an essay.

2. We would rather this be about what makes you happy and joyful about reading than any scathing critiques.

Things to be mindful of when creating:

For Sam

Avoid framing Sam only as a caretaker or emotional support for Bucky. Be mindful of Sam acting angry or aggressive in an out-of-character way and falling into the angry/sassy Black man trope (check out the MCU source material to help with character traits).

Avoid decentering Sam as a main character and refrain from focusing entirely on Bucky.

In art: avoid whitewashing Sam’s skin and research drawing Black characters.

General disclaimer: Race affects every aspect of his life, including interacting with police/government and the white structures of the world when it comes to performing his duties as Cap and simply being a Black man that lives in the U.S.

For Bucky

Avoid phrasing “flesh/normal/human hand” to refer to the contrast between his prosthetic arm and his right arm. The phrasing is ableist. You can simply refer to his prosthesis when relevant, otherwise use “right/left arm/hand”.

For more information, please check out this document suggested by @ninesdb on how to write Bucky as an amputee. @ninesdb is also open to questions if you have any queries not answered by the google doc.

Specific Tags:

Avoid tags in AO3 like “Sam Wilson is a Gift”, “Sam Wilson is a Saint”, and “Bucky Needs a Hug”.

Have fun and we look forward to your SamBucky Valentine's Bingo fics!

- The Mods

#sbvday2024 #sambucky #sam wilson #bucky barnes #sambucky fanfiction #sambucky art #sambucky edit #sambucky moodboard #sambucky valentine's day event #mod: thatmexisaurusrex

84 notes · View notes

thatmexisaurusrex · 2 months

Text

Sam Wilson and the Olympians

Hey! This fic is for @sambuckylibrary’s SamBucky Valentine’s Bingo 2024 for the prompt on Creator Card #2 - “Second Chances”. It starts with SamRiley but you'll see how the prompt plays a role in the fic once you read it. Enjoy! 🥰

Sam Wilson and the Olympians

| Pairings: SamBucky and SamRiley | Rated: T | WC: 18K |

Summary: Sam Wilson didn't know that he was a demigod. But now, with a group of new friends, he must find his way to Camp Half-Blood.

Excerpt:

“We, uh,” said Paul as he cleared his throat, “We met this… guy.” Sam blinked. “This guy?” asked Sam, confused. “He was – oh wow. He. We got along really well,” said Paul, a twinkle in his eyes as he glanced at Darlene – and. This felt a little too intimate for Sam to be hearing about his own parents. “We sort of got a long after that for, I don’t know, about a year,” said Darlene, tucking one of her twists behind her ear as she decidedly didn’t look Sam in the eyes, “And – it’s going to sound fantastical but you, um – ” “You’re still our son. Biological son, you’re our – we’re both still your – I’m not really sure how it worked, but – ” Paul continued, trying to find the words to tell Sam whatever went on. “You sort of. Just,” said Darlene, mimicking what happened with her hands, “Appeared. From his. Forehead?” Joaquín choked on his Arnold Palmer. Riley’s eyes widened, not expecting that. Sam. Sam needed a minute. “I was… a forehead baby?” asked Sam, supremely confused.

READ THE REST ON AO3!

#sbvday2024 #sambucky #sam wilson #bucky barnes #samriley #sambucky fic #samriley fic #riley #percy jackson and the olympians au #love at first sight #second chances #fluff and crack #angst with a happy ending #demigod sam wilson #demigod bucky barnes #my fic #Sam Wilson and the Olympians

44 notes · View notes

abarbaricyalp · 2 months

Text

I thought there was a Post-TFATWS space, but there's not, so have another Free Space fill! @sambuckylibrary

Based on a Daily Fluff Diary post! // cw: injury in the last section // AO3 Link

Knock Before Entering

It's not that Joaquin hasn't seen them make out before. It comes with the territory of spending long amounts of time with two people not only deeply horny for each other, but also just deeply in love. He tries not to think about it. Tries to forget that Barnes clearly needs an outlet for adrenaline after a fight. Tries not to pay attention when a closet door shuts on the jet. Tries to ignore the eyes Sam shoots Barnes that has them both vacating a shared space.

They're good about it. Don't get up in each other's space intentionally when he's around. Barely even touch if they're all sharing a room. One time, Barnes had even slept on the floor instead of sharing a bed with Sam. Though Joaquin had woken at some point in the night and found Sam's arm hanging off the bed and Barnes's arm reaching up so they could hold hands anyway. At least it was his prosthetic arm, so Joaquin assumed he didn't need to worry about a blood rush.

The point is, it's not a secret that Sam and Barnes are together. And they're usually pretty good at keeping to themselves.

Which is why it shouldn't be surprising but certainly is when Joaquin walks back into Sam's office from hunting down the new drone prototype he'd been reporting on and finds Sam half sprawled across his desk with Barnes crowded between his legs, following him down.

Joaquin smacks a hand over his eyes like a child. It means he drops the drone, but it's live, so it just hovers next to him. "Guys, gross!" he snaps, also like a child. It did kind of feel like seeing his parents making out for the first time.

_____

He can hear them spring apart, like it's a surprise that he's back. He'd literally been gone for five minutes tops. He just had to run to his room and get this. He'd told Sam where he was going. He hears a slight exchange of shoves and elbows before Barnes says, "Drop your hand, kid."

Joaquin does after several more seconds, when he's sure the coast is clear. Sam's behind his desk again, Bucky leaning a hip up against the side of it like he belongs here.

"Where did you even come from?" Joaquin asks finally when it seems like no one else is going to volunteer anything.

"World War II," Barnes answers like the smartass he is. "Brooklyn."

“I was gone for three minutes," Joaquin clarified through his teeth. He wants to sit down, thinks better of it, stays just inside the doorway. "What if I was someone else?"

Barnes's mouth quirks a little. It's as much a confirmation as Joaquin will ever get from the man that they are kind of their own little triumvirate. If it had happened under any other circumstance, Joaquin would be elated. Right now, he is not. “But you’re not, so relax, Tweety.”

Joaquin rolls his eyes and walks into the office, giving that side of the desk a wide berth. He sets the new drone down, along with a makeshift manual.

“Don’t go gettin’ attached to that side,” Barnes says.

“Don’t,” Sam warns.

But Barnes pushes on. “I’ve hauled him up on that side too.”

Joaquin doesn’t even both to groan. He just leaves the room again.

. . .

“Ready or not!” a small, but very loud, voice calls from somewhere else in the building.

Bucky ducks into Sam’s office because AJ is fast and if he doesn’t take cover now, he’s going to get caught. There’s a gorgeous wardrobe with a false back in the far corner, but Cass had hidden in there two rounds ago, so it’s likely to be one of the first places AJ looks. The desk is too much on AJ’s level for Bucky to hope to hide well under. By design, Bucky is too big to fit into the vents.

The curtains that hang from the windows don’t quite make it all the way to the floor, but Bucky figures his dark boots will blend into the shadows if he stands far enough to the corner. He can hear AJ’s sneakers on the tile, hurrying down the hallways and checking doors, so he jumps behind the curtain and tries to hold it still.

He jumps behind the curtain and directly onto Sam’s feet.

“Ow! Hey! I’m already here. Go find your own hiding place!” Sam hisses, shoving at Bucky’s shoulder futilely. Bucky intentionally digs his heels down into the ground. Sam glares at him, then takes a deliberate step closer. “If you don’t move, we’re both gonna get caught,” he threatens. “And you know AJ will go after you before he comes after me.”

Bucky raises an eyebrow in doubt. He was almost positive AJ and Cass were teaming up to find Sam, who had not been tagged ‘it’ yet in this game. Mostly because he kept cheating by using all his flight training to get up into the rafters where, even if he was seen, no one could climb up to tag him. Well, Bucky could, but it was too much work, honestly.

“I’m faster than you,” he points out. “And I’m not above tripping you.”

Sam rolls his eyes, leans in, kisses Bucky. It’s enough for Bucky to stop digging his heels in, but Sam gets just as distracted. Actually, instead of shoving Bucky out of the hiding spot, he halfway tries to climb up Bucky’s body. It sends Bucky stumbling back, the curtain getting tangled under his foot, and they both end up crashing against the window, curtain falling away in time for the office door to get pushed open.

“Ugh,” AJ says with so much disdain Bucky kind of can’t believe it. “I knew that’s what you two were doing instead of actually hiding. It’s no fun if you don’t try!”

“It’s all Sam’s fault.” Bucky accuses. The elbow into his ribs exacerbates the ache from falling into the window sill too. Still, he puts himself between Sam and AJ. “Go find your brother.”

“Nuh-uh,” AJ insists. “I found you two. I’m gonna tag you two.”

Sam snickers behind him, squirming away from the pinch Bucky’s trying to land on his hip. “You only need one of us,” he points out.

AJ’s mouth curls to one side with frustration. “I can’t find Cass,” he admits. “I need help.”

“Alright, alright,” Bucky concedes. He steps away from Sam, towards AJ. Waits for Sam to relax. Then he grabs Sam around the waist, holding him still so AJ can run forward and tag him as the next seeker, much to Sam’s loud protests.

“Cheaters!” he cries between laughter. “Betrayal!” But it is ineffective in the long run.

. . .

There should be no one else at the compound, so Bucky’s lazily making out with Sam in his desk chair, Sam across his lap. Joaquin is doing Air Force stuff, the other young heroes are out of state or busy, the older heroes don’t really hang out there. There are no meetings scheduled, no tours, no new introductions. It’s just him, Sam, and the sunshine streaming in from the window.

It’s been a while since they’d been able to do something like this. Cap duties had taken Sam away and Bucky had been pointedly kicked off of the jet. He was still piecing it together, but he thought it might’ve had to do with Hydra. Why he was kept out of the loop with those things, Bucky couldn’t begin to guess, but whatever. In the time Sam was gone, Bucky managed to get himself hurt (which is why he should’ve been allowed on the jet) and Sam had come back so exhausted that, even when they were alone, they mostly just took the security of each other’s company to pass out for hours at a time.

But a quiet weekend and a, so far, quiet week had done wonders and now Sam is getting handsy as Bucky absently pets his chest, over his shoulder, and back down his arm. Contrary to what Joaquin thinks, they haven’t ever actually desecrated the office, but Bucky’s willing to break the streak. Especially when Sam’s fingers fall to his waistband and begin to rub out the indentions of his jeans from his hips.

“Come on, let’s break in the desk,” Bucky cajoles, opening his mouth, deepening the kiss as he licks into Sam’s mouth with more intensity than the afternoon had called for.

Sam laughs unexpectedly, sits back, stares. Bucky can tell when the answer is going to be a straight no. This is not necessarily a straight no, which is almost hot enough to get the job done on its own. Sam’s a daredevil. An adrenaline junkie. People think Bucky’s the bad influence, but it’s not always his fault.

Sam’s just about to pass his judgment, is already moving off of Bucky’s lap to sit on the desk, when the door opens. There’s no one there, which has Bucky pulling Sam away, halfway tossing him towards the window for a fast escape. His mind is already racing with the potential threat–a smoke bomb, a grenade, some other small danger that he can’t see over the width of the desk. He hears Sam grab the shield, a sure, defiant presence behind him.

No bomb goes off. Instead, an orange cat jumps up onto the desk.

“Goose?” Sam asks, lowering the shield.

“Danvers’s cat?” Bucky clarifies. “Oh, shit. No, get down!” he shouts, lunging for the cat sitting on top of Bucky’s leather jacket. But it’s too late. The cat vomits tentacles and ray guns and a glove (or maybe a hand) and slime all across the desk.

“Argh!” Bucky shouts, yanking his jacket free, which makes Goose hiss and jump down. Too late for that, Bucky hisses back in his head.

It’s only a split second later that Danvers appears, just as Goose is running out. She watches her with surprise, then looks at Sam. “Cap, I need your help,” she says. Then her nose scrunches and she looks to Bucky and his jacket. “You need to get that cleaned.”

Bucky really considers throwing it at her.

. . .

The reporters are following Sam, who is trying to answer their questions but it’s weirdly difficult to when they’re walking on his heels. The smoke of the battle is still wafting off of him, which he can’t even smell because of the concrete dust in his nostrils. The cameras flashing in his face are doing nothing to help the migraine digging through his head. He needed a med crew to tell everyone he was probably concussed and to leave him alone.

“Captain Wilson,” someone calls. It still sounds weird to hear it. That’s not really his title, but he’d stopped fighting it after the first few months. “You saved more than a dozen people in midair. How did you react so quickly?”

Sam’s shoulders and back ache at the reminder. “It’s my job,” he says. “I’m supposed to save people. These wings aren’t just a fine accessory, y’know.”

“Captain, how did you figure this plane would be attacked?” someone else asks. His office is so close. The door locks now. He has a couch with a weighted pillow that he can put over his face and drown out the lights and the noise.

“When we realized the target wasn’t physical riches, but riches of the soul and mind, it was a quick hop to the plane carrying the summit awardees and delegations.”

“Mr. Wilson, you saved lives and hope tonight. How many future conflicts do you think you stopped tonight?”

“What?” Sam asks. The words just will not slot into a logical order in his mind. “I can’t tell you anything about the future. Very good people were targeted tonight to stoke division and fear. They were targeted by bad people to get back at other bad people. It was a wholly unfair situation. I am grateful for the lives we were able to save. The damage was still large and there’s yet more clean up to do that affects hundreds of other good people. Please turn your attention, time, and resources towards doing something productive too. You don’t need wings to make a difference.”

The reporters mutter amongst themselves and Sam uses the opportunity to get a hand on the door knob, a foot halfway into his office.

“Sir, is there any update on Sergeant Barnes?”

The image of the building coming down on Bucky as he evacuates civilians flashes through Sam’s mind like a hot sword. The crackle of his comm device as it went dead mid-sentence. The silence that followed. Sam’s heart begins to thrum uncomfortably in his chest, rising up to choke out his throat. He can’t cry on camera.

“As far as I’m aware, no one has made contact with Sergeant Barnes as yet,” he starts to say.

Then the door opens. Bucky’s standing there, looking like a sight. There are bandages wrapped around his head and half of his face is bruised into a sickly black and purple. He’s covered in gashes and scrapes. His right arm is wrapped in a sling. He’s hobbling with one boot on and the other foot and ankle wrapped in even more bandages. He’s clearly in so much pain that all Sam wants to do is shove him down on a bed and keep him asleep until the serum can repair everything.

“I was dug out by the same people I had just gotten out of the building,” Bucky chuckles at the camera, like this is a normal press conference. Actually, that’s not true. If this was a normal press conference, he would be in a back room somewhere, glowering at every reporter and cameraperson he saw. He did not like public speaking. But here he is, looking like it’s his natural calling. “They made quick work of it too. Dragged me off to a med-tent. Felt right at home, huh?” he says, directing the last bit at Sam, since it’s usually Sam dragging him to medical.

Sam can’t answer. Can’t breathe. Bucky’s alive. He’s moving. He’s swollen six ways to Sunday, but he’s making jokes. He was in Sam’s office. Waiting for him.

“Excuse me, guys and dolls,” Bucky says with a wry look at the media. Wry, even though the bruising. So unfair. “I gotta do something real quick.”

And then he’s kissing Sam. It’s awkward and too warm. Both of their faces are different landscapes after the fight. They both smell terrible. Sam keeps getting medicinal alcohol in his mouth and Bucky accidentally peels off two of the butterfly bandages on Sam’s cheek as he holds his face.

It’s one of the best kisses of Sam’s life.

This time, he doesn’t let anything interrupt them.

If you enjoyed this, please consider leaving a note or kudos on AO3

#sambucky #sam wilson #bucky barnes #captain america #sambucky fanfic #the falcon and the winter soldier #writing #sbvday2024

41 notes · View notes

cobrafantasies · 3 months

Text

Unromantically in Love

SamBucky | Rated T | 2,144 words | Complete | AO3

Written for SamBucky Valentine's Day Bingo 2024 by @sambuckylibrary, prompt: Free Space

Summary: Lately, it feels physically impossible for Bucky to show his romantic side. He fears this will mean the end of his relationship with Sam. Unexpectedly, they end up having this very conversation one night.

Excerpt:

Bucky came from a time when buying a dame flowers was just simply proper etiquette for a date. Some fellows complained about that kind of thing, but Bucky liked it.

The truth is, young James Buchanan Barnes was a hopeless romantic. Now Steve would probably laugh at that but that was on account of Bucky always taking so many girls out on dates. The thing Steve didn’t understand was that was just the game, the fun, the chase of it all. Bucky liked that part too but really, he was waiting for the right one. The one he was going to go all out for, make all the stops for. He couldn't wait.

He never did find the one, of course. And after his eighty-year imprisonment, as he likes to refer to it, he lost his romantic side altogether. He physically cannot do it anymore. He knows this because when Sam asked him on their first date, Bucky spent all afternoon at a flower shop so sure he was buying the man a bouquet but he ended up leaving with nothing. He couldn’t do it and all night, he talked himself out of doing a single romantic thing.

Read on A03

#sambucky #sambucky fic #sambucky fanfic #sbvday2024 #free space #my fics

35 notes · View notes

siancore · 3 months

Text

For the @sambuckylibrary SamBucky Valentine's Day Bingo 2024 — Fake Dating.

We Live Such Fragile Lives by @abarbaricyalp

When I say I love this fic, I mean I am in love with everything about it. The tone, the premise, the characterisations. The feelings that it evokes. It’s gorgeously charming with a hint of the bittersweet always swaying at the edges. I adore these versions of Sam and Bucky. They are kind and sweet and brave. @abarbaricyalp is a tremendously talented writer who has built this immersive world where our two favourite boys are exploring their feelings and growing into their own personhood. This is a beautifully crafted story that makes me feel all manner of warm and fuzzy.

Sam is smart and sensitive. Bucky is sweet and charming. Together they are endearing. This whole tale is endearing. I love it endlessly.

#sambucky #SamBucky fics #sbvday2024

21 notes · View notes

ao3feed-sambucky · 2 months

Text

Jealous Guy

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/yvEaUtT by jemgirl “Sam and Steve having one of their many ‘bro moments,’ while you stare at Wilson from the shadows like you can’t decide whether you want to take his head off or take him to bed,” she observed with a snort, then nudged his shoulder playfully with her own. “It’s all very nostalgic really.” “Then again,” she added thoughtfully, after a few seconds. “Is ‘nostalgic’ the right word if the staring never really went away in the first place?” Or: Bucky has had enough! Words: 11442, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Series: Part 4 of Valentine’s Day Fics, Part 1 of Jemgirl’s SamBucky VDay Bingo ‘24 Fandoms: The Falcon and the Winter Soldier (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe Rating: Not Rated Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Categories: M/M Characters: Sam Wilson (Marvel), James "Bucky" Barnes, Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanov (Marvel), Other Marvel Characters (Mentioned) Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Sam Wilson Additional Tags: Avengers: Endgame (Movie), also, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Canon Divergent, Everybody Lives… Well Everyone Lives Who I Needed To Live, Established Relationship, Jealousy, what we have here is a failure to communicate, The Author is Playing Fast & Loose With The Timeline… Kinda, SBVDay2024 read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/yvEaUtT

#Bucky #Captain America #Winter Soldier #Sam Wilson #James Barnes #Falcon #SamBucky #BuckySam #IFTTT #ao3feed

9 notes · View notes

jemgirl86 · 2 months

Text

SamBucky, 18K Words

Valentine’s Day Bingo - Second Chances Square

Summary:

“You know what tonight is, right?” Steve asked, cutting him off.

Bucky didn’t quite grunt by way of replying, but it was close.

Of course he knew what was happening that night. He didn’t live under a rock. The whole country knew, and there wasn’t a New York native alive who wasn’t at least a little excited about it. Even people who had been calling the Knicks bums for the past twenty or so years were rooting for them. For the first time since nineteen ninety-nine, the Knicks had made it to the NBA Finals. Even more unbelievable, people who weren’t even from New York thought they might actually win it.

And it was all thanks to Sam Wilson.

Or: Ten years is a long time - maybe too long, but maybe not…

#sambucky #sam wilson #bucky barnes #sbvday2024 #can’t believe i finished this with like 5 minutes to spare 😅

44 notes · View notes

jemgirl86 · 2 months

Text

SBVDay Bingo ‘24, Free Space

11K Words

Summary:

“Sam and Steve having one of their many ‘bro moments,’ while you stare at Wilson from the shadows like you can’t decide whether you want to take his head off or take him to bed,” she observed with a snort, then nudged his shoulder playfully with her own. “It’s all very nostalgic really.”

“Then again,” she added thoughtfully, after a few seconds. “Is ‘nostalgic’ the right word if the staring never really went away in the first place?”

Or: Bucky has had enough!

ETA: Might help if I put the link in huh? lol

#sambucky #sbvday2024 #sam wilson #bucky barnes

52 notes · View notes

thatmexisaurusrex · 2 months

Text

have you ever had fun like this? (have you ever had fun?)

This is for the @sambuckylibrary's SamBucky Valentine's Day Bingo 2024 event. It's the second of three short fics that will be based on Beyoncé songs that will be tied together in sort of a loose alternate version of CATWS. Enjoy! 🥰

have you ever had fun like this? (have you ever had fun?)

| Pairing: SamBucky | Rated: M | WC: 5.5K |

Summary: Sam Wilson keeps bumping into his Captain America team. And that Bucky guy.

Excerpt:

“I’m only really here until the end of the weekend,” blurted Sam, because, fuck it, he really was only here for another few days, “I have a rehearsal dinner I need to go to tonight, but… would you like to get drinks? Afterwards?” Bucky blinked. “With me?” asked Bucky, and wow, maybe Sam was being too forward. Maybe Sam misread the whole Rollerworld moment they had a few days back before Sarah’s bachelorette party. “No, with Figaro,” said Sam, because if Sam was anything, he was reckless and up for taking that chance, even if it might get him burned in the end, “Of course you.”

READ THE REST ON AO3!

#sbvday2024 #sambucky #sam wilson #bucky barnes #sambucky fic #tooth rotting fluff #getting to know each other #dorks in love #alternate catws #free space #my fics #have you ever had fun like this? (have you ever had fun?)

37 notes · View notes

abarbaricyalp · 2 months

Text

Written for the @sambuckylibrary Valentine's Bingo fill: Secret Admirer

5 times birds try to tell Bucky he has a secret admirer and 1 time a human does

Rated T for brief Canon typical violence AO3 Link

Blithe Spirits, Higher Still and Higher

Truthfully, Bucky was hiding. Not well. Not in any substantial kind of way. He was sitting on a bench almost directly outside the front door of the New Avengers Compound. Anyone on the south side of the building would be able to see him. Still, he was not anywhere near any kind of AI system that could tell people where he was or could ring out to him to join some inane meeting or the other. Bucky was not very good at the bureaucracy of this job. Sam said he was an excellent trainer and he established good relationships with the younger heroes that came through the compound, but Bucky was fairly certain that was where the compliments ended as far as his work here was concerned.

He hated it. He hated the building. He hated being in DC. He hated the transient nature of everyone who came through the door. He had a house in Louisiana where he was close enough to the Wilsons to stop by when he wanted. The only good thing about being here was that Sam was usually here as well.

So he took breaks outside as often as he liked. The bench was just big enough for him to lay out on without having to incline either his head or his feet on the armrests and the backing was tall enough to block out the sun after 1:00pm. He really liked this bench.

He was absorbing enough sunshine to stave away the AC chill in his fingers when a bunch of rustling interrupted the otherwise quiet afternoon. He dropped his arm away from his eyes and glanced to his left, searching for the intruder to his quiet afternoon. He expected one of the kids trying to wrangle him into a sparring match, or a handler trying to wrangle him into a desk.

Instead, there was a crow bouncing towards him with a bundle of wildflowers in its beak. It kept throwing its head back at him in some sort of display. He sat up on the bench and the crow jumped up to stand next to his leg. It deposited the flowers on his thigh.

“Where did you get these?” he asked with a small smile. The flowers were nothing extraordinary, so he didn’t assume the bird had taken them from anyone’s hands. Except maybe a nearby child who’d been collecting them on a walk. But Bucky disregarded this theory. They were of the usual suspects as far as flowers went. Some yarrow and laurel and even bluebells. The stems were chopped fairly neatly, which didn’t suggest that the bird had ripped them from the ground.

Actually, if he thought about their origins much more, he was probably going to get a headache.

“What’re you gonna do with them?” he asked the bird instead, like it could answer him. He collected the flowers in a loose grouping and held them back out, but the bird didn’t take them. Instead, it hopped away again. “You’re leaving them with me?” he surmised.

The bird bobbed its head. It cast one more glance over Bucky and then flew away. Bucky took the flowers and, after glancing around to make sure no one could see him, closed his eyes and pressed them against his nose.

II.

Being back in New York felt much more comfortable than being in DC, even if he was once again stuck in a stuffy building. This time, he was doing more paperwork than he thought should be allowed of one person after saving the world for the umpteenth time. As soon as their assigned agent had turned his back, Bucky had vacated the office seat and headed for the nearest food truck.

He’d asked Sam to come along, but had been flatly denied. He was trying very hard not to take it personally, but he wasn’t really succeeding. Sure, he wasn’t half the flirt he’d been in the 30s, but he held his own in this brave new world. He picked people up fairly easily when he wanted to.

The only problem was that he hadn’t wanted to. Not for a long time. His attention had quickly and fully shifted to Sam. But Sam was remarkably resistant to Bucky’s attempts to woo him. Despite the fact that they got dinner together all the time, or went to see a new movie often, as soon as Bucky started asking with the express intent to make further moves on Sam, Sam became absurdly good at skirting his invitations.

This wasn’t even a move. He just really wanted a hotdog. He figured a walk in the sun would be good for Sam too. But, no. The paperwork and their deadlines and getting shit done.

Whatever. Bucky was in New York again. He wasn’t going to waste the precious few hours he had in his loud, noisy city again. Certainly not by embarrassing himself in front of Sam or pushing his boundaries.

Bucky knew this food truck and he was more than a little obsessed with it. When he’d been goading Sam into coming with him, he hadn’t lied by saying he literally dreamed about these hot dogs when he was in Louisiana. This line, the warm summer sun, it was all worth it as he got to the front of the line and reached for his wallet as he began to order without looking at the menu.

He stopped halfway through, which the vendor didn’t even clock, just mumbled, “Yeah, with the relish and extra mustard, I remember.”

“No, wait,” Bucky said and patted his pockets down again. The back ones and then the front ones and then his own waist, where his jacket would usually sit if he was wearing one. “I don’t have my wallet. I must’ve left it in my coat.”

“I think I can spot ya’ this time,” the vendor said in the sarcastic, but loving way, of a brash New Yorker. “You just knock my truck outta the way next time aliens attack.”

“No, no, I can’t,” Bucky insisted, the ghost of his mother’s good manners curling low in his stomach. “I was gonna get a handful. I don’t wanna put you out. Just give me a second. I’ll be right back.”

“Barnes!” the man called after him, but Bucky was already striding away.

He didn’t get very far. A very large pigeon posted up in front of him. Bucky tried to sidestep it, but it followed him across the sidewalk.

“I’m not in the mood,” he told it, which made someone walking past him snort. “Actually, I’m kind of in a rush and I’m starving.”

The pigeon didn’t budge. Instead, it reached under its wing with its beak and produced a twenty dollar bill. It threw the bill on the ground between them.

Bucky blinked at the bill and then at the bird. The bird cocked its head back at him. Did birds blink, he wondered. Surely they must. Flying in the air and everything. They’d need to protect their eyes.

“Go return it,” he said, nudging the bill back towards the bird without actually stepping closer to it. This bird was clearly a criminal. Who knew what it’d do next.

The bird picked up the bill and flung it at Bucky with a palpable distaste. What was going on here? Bucky was in a hunger and hotdog aroma fueled dream. His stomach chose right then to growl like he hadn’t eaten in years. He’d literally had a huge bagel this morning. (There’d been a point to prove to Sam about the frankly appalling bagels in DC.)

Still, his stomach was growling and no one was shouting about theft by bird or chasing this pigeon down. So…he took the bill and got back in line. The pigeon followed after him, letting itself get distracted by the scraps on the ground along the way.

“Found a twenty in my pocket,” he explained to the vendor when he got back up to the front of the line.

The man looked like he may have been skeptical but wasn’t interested enough to actually care. Bucky ordered two hotdogs with the promise he’d come back tomorrow for his handful. Not that he was going to get away with feeding Sam hotdogs two days in a row. Not unless one of them came with broccoli instead of mustard.

He started away from the food truck with his semi-ill-gotten gains in hand when all of a sudden a sharp pain stabbed through his ankle. He looked down with a scowl and found the pigeon basically glaring up at him. Again, with the birds having eyelids thing. He was going to google it as soon as he got back into the room him and Sam were locked in.

“What?” he asked. “It’s a barter system. I don’t have the money anymore.”

The pigeon bobbed its head like it knew what a barter system was. Then it looked pointedly at Bucky’s hotdog. Ah, Bucky thought. It was a barter system. He tore off a piece of his bun and tossed it at the pigeon. Without another look, the pigeon grabbed the bread and flew away.

Literally what was going on?

Read the rest on AO3 here!

#sambucky #bucky barnes #sam wilson #captain america #sambucky fanfic #the falcon and the winter soldier #writing #sbvday2024

38 notes · View notes

thatmexisaurusrex · 3 months

Text

Captain Meets Soldier

Hey! This fic is for @quimbolgees! But it’s also for @sambuckylibrary’s SamBucky Valentine’s Bingo 2024 for the prompt on Creator Card #2 - “Mission fic”. Enjoy! 🥰

Captain Meets Soldier

| Pairing: SamBucky | Rated: T | WC: 4.3K |

Summary: What if Steve was never frozen, Isaiah was known to the public as the second Captain America, Sam took up the position after Isaiah, Sam recruited Karli to his team after saving her from the Thunderbolts, and Sam met the Winter Soldier while busting a Thunderbolts mission?

Excerpt:

Could he really be a good man as Karli said? Sam could sneak up on this man. Sure, he was a super soldier, if what Karli said was true, but Sam could probably take him by surprise and drag him out without the rest of his team knowing that Sam did it. That was probably the smarter thing to do. But it didn’t feel right to do that. So, Sam said into the silence, “It’s a pretty expansive library.” The Winter Soldier startled, dropping the book he had in his fingerless gloved hands. He stared at Sam; Sam couldn’t see the man’s eyes, but something about the way the Winter Soldier looked was piercing. “Karli said you needed saving,” said Sam as he stepped into the library; closer to the Winter Soldier, “Is that true?” “Karli?” echoed the man, his voice muffled by the muzzle and croaky; as if he hadn’t spoken in ages. The voice seemed familiar. As if Sam had heard it before. But where would Sam had heard it?

READ THE REST AT AO3!

#sbvday2024 #sambucky #sam wilson #bucky barnes #sambucky fic #meet cute #mission fic #thunderbolts #alternate universe #my fic #Captain Meets Soldier

39 notes · View notes

thatmexisaurusrex · 2 months

Text

I'll be damned if I can't slow dance with you

This is for the @sambuckylibrary’s SamBucky Valentine’s Day Bingo 2024 event. It’s the final of three short fics that will be based on Beyoncé songs that will be tied together in sort of a loose alternate version of CATWS. Enjoy! 🥰

I'll be damned if I can't slow dance with you

| Pairing: SamBucky | Rated: M | WC: 1.5K |

Summary: Sam finally makes it to his sister's wedding and finds Bucky at the reception.

Excerpt:

“Did I ever tell you how stunning you were in that outfit of yours?” “You should see it with the wings out,” said Sam as he wiggled his eyebrows. Bucky’s eyes widened. “You use wings?” asked Bucky. “I was the Falcon before I took over as Captain America,” said Sam coolly with a little shrug, “Maybe you’ll get to see them at some point.” “I wouldn’t be opposed,” hummed Bucky as he stared deep into Sam’s eyes, “I’m just happy to be here.” Sam couldn’t stop himself from grinning. “I’m happy you were able to make it too,” whispered Sam as he laced his fingers with Bucky’s, “I’m happy I was so hot that I broke your programming.” Bucky. Blushed so badly, Sam was sure he could melt diamonds on Bucky’s face. “It – I mean. Okay, so yes, your beauty did pierce through the veil and give me my freewill back,” mumbled Bucky to the floor, “I can admit that.”

READ THE REST ON AO3!

#sbvday2024 #sambucky #sam wilson #bucky barnes #sambucky fic #tooth rotting fluff #getting together #wedding fluff #my fics #i'll be damned if i can't slow dance with you

36 notes · View notes

abarbaricyalp · 3 months

Text

Written for @sambuckylibrary Valentines Bingo. Free space fill (most of mine are gonna be free spaces) I guess it technically fills the Sam-Searching-For-Bucky fill too but not in spirit, so it doesn't count

Rated T/M, No Archive Warnings

Read on AO3 here

Bid Your Heart Goodbye

"You know why they put us up first, right?" Barton asked under his breath next to Sam.

Sam's gaze slid to him with only mild interest. "Because we're the people's princesses?"

They were standing in the wings of a fancy stage with velvet curtains that smelled like they hadn't been cleaned since they were installed. Beyond the curtains, an audience dressed to the nines wined and dined. That same dinner was waiting for Sam if this charity auction would ever get underway.

No matter what Barton said about the order of the night, Sam wouldn't be made to feel less than grateful that he'd be sitting down and digging into an expensive steak in less than half an hour. Hopefully. Steve, the poor sod, was the last bid of the night.

Buy A Date With An Avenger had been a fundraiser since before Sam was involved with them at all. This was the first year he was participating in it. If he'd been asked the year before, he'd have been more than excited to join, take a break from the Ghost Hunt and relax in a fancy hotel for while. This year, he had other things he wanted to be doing with his time. Perhaps it had to do with the fact that the Ghost Hunt was over and the ghost was accounted for, but Sam still felt like of he took his eyes off of him, he'd disappear into the night again. Perhaps it didn't. Who was to say.

"They're hoping people will bid high on us because they haven't spent big money on Steve or Tony yet," Clint said with some kind of sardonic glee. "Of someone spends million dollars to meet Steve, they're not gonna fork over anything else for us."

Sam rolled his eyes and elbowed Clint's arm. "Speak for yourself. I bet I hit 50k before the fifth vote."

The sardonicism melted away and Clint's eyes lit up. "I bet I make more than you," he countered.

"What're you gonna do? Strip?" Sam joked. Then he added, "Has Steve really gotten a million dollars before?"

"Couple of years ago," Clint confirmed. "Right after the whole thing in DC with you. That year. Super fan. They wanted the inside scoop on all of that for a book they were making someone ghostwrite."

Sam snorted. That sounded about right. There had been smaller opportunities for people to donate and win time with the heroes throughout the night. Steve was certainly a favorite. It might've dinged Sam’s ego a bit if he couldn't see how miserable Steve was with all of the attention.

Sam didn't mind this kind of thing. The VA held fundraisers all the time. He was used to the pleasant smiles and benign interest and the insufferable drone of rich people with money they needed. Actually, Sam was pretty good at it. Hell, he almost liked it, in a detached, out-of-body sort of way. He liked to be useful and he liked to be charming and gracious.

"Young man, you could've been a prince in another lifetime," an old woman had said to him once, patting his hand because she hadn't let go of it for five minutes.

"Only if you'd be my princess," he'd charmed back and gotten an extra donation towards their meeting spaces renovation for his time.

Tonight wasn't much different, though pocket books seemed to be a little fatter and held a little tighter. There were no promises made for nothing. Everything was about the spectacle of the bidding, the silent auction of memorabilia, the game of being allowed to tease time and attention from someone as important as an Avenger.

The proceeds weren't for the Avengers. They were all going towards charities around the nation. Each hero had picked one. Sam's was a housing program in Louisiana, to help people displaced after storms, year after year.

"How much did your date go for last year?" Sam asked.

"About 20k," Clint said. "But I wasn't the worst of the night. A science lab got Bruce's date, but they didn't have to be very competitive about it."

Sam sucked in a breath through his teeth. "That's dirty, man."

"Hey, it worked out for them. He went to their lab, helped them through some results that weren't adding up, and they won some ridiculously prestigious award a month or so ago. Yet another paper with Dr. Bruce Banner's name on it too."

Sam had to give them that. That was a much better use of Bruce’s time than having dinner with someone who bought affection, someone who couldn’t be bothered to help people unless they got something in return.

This night could not be over quickly enough.

Sam was up first, as the newest member of the Avengers. He’d rewatched the livestream from last year to prepare himself, but there was still nothing like hearing his name echo throughout the room as the chatter of the evening lowered to a polite gust of whispers. The MC read off a list of Sam’s accomplishments as he walked on stage and gave a few easy-going smiles and waves. He listened as the MC explained what his charity was and how the money may be used.

And then the bidding began. It was a little slow going. It started at five thousand dollars, like all the dates would tonight. Someone upped it to seven, and then ten. A bright blue placard caught the corner of Sam’s eye. Everyone else had classy black and gold placards. This one was meant to stand out. It caught the MC’s eye too, apparently, because he gave a hearty chuckle and gestured to the man with the bright blue placard, sitting at a table with other event organizers.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I neglected to mention that this year we are hosting the bidding online as well. We’ll entertain bids in real time from our website. What was the bid?” he asked the stand-in bidder.

“Fifty thousand, sir,” the man said. “From an anonymous bidder.”

A literal gasp went through the audience. Which, hey, a date with him was totally worth 50k, Sam thought. A little deliriously maybe. Fifty thousand dollars? From ten? Sam was absolutely not about to pass out on the stage. He just needed a lectern to hold onto for a few seconds.

The MC whistled appreciatively. “That is quite the statement. Does anyone want to say 55?”

The woman who’d been the first to bid raised her placard again.

“Great. 60?”

The blue placard went up again. “Sir, the same bidder has said 100,000.”

Someone was fucking with Sam. He turned to glare at Barton, because this was surely his doing. He’d just been telling Sam about how only Steve and Tony made any real money and him and Sam were just chum to get the sharks going. And somehow he had someone fuck up the online bidding site to do this.

But Barton looked just as confused as Sam was, and about fifteen times as gleeful.

The MC didn’t falter. He was a damn professional. Sam needed to send him a fruit basket or something. Sure, Steve and Tony’s dates went for more than half a million each last year. $100,000 was nothing compared to the rest of the night. But Sam wasn’t sure even he could’ve kept a straight face while talking about his company being worth more than a substantial downpayment on a house. But the MC just grinned at the audience and said, “Anyone willing to go for 110? $110,000 would change a lot of lives. Build a lot of houses, folks.”

Unbelievably, a whole new placard went up. Sam wondered if this was just someone trying to goad the online bidder into doing something even more outrageous.

Which they did. Before the MC could even decide on another number to challenge 110,000 damn dollars, the blue placard went up.

“175,” he said.

Sam blinked at him, feeling like a deer in the headlights while someone explained linear algebra to it. What the fuck was happening? Actually, was he in danger? Should he even meet someone willing to spend $175,000 just to have dinner with him? Was he going to end up tied up in a basement somewhere?

“Folks, I don’t know if anyone is going to be able to outlast our anonymous bidder. Do I hear 180? 180 on the room? How about 177? 176? 175-5? If not, Sam Wilson’s date has just been bought for $175,000. To our high bidder, you’ve helped a beautiful cause. Planning emails will be sent to the address on your bid form, so please keep an eye out for those. And now, please welcome Hawkeye himself, Clint Barton!”

Sam was only able to get himself off of the stage because he had Clint’s path to follow. Clint beamed at him, knocked the sides of their fists together as he whispered, “Bird bros,” and then waggled his eyebrows like that meant anything.

Backstage, Steve managed to find him before anyone who would need his help coordinating the date. He was cheesing about as hard as Clint was.

“I told you you’d be nothing but good for this,” he teased, giving Sam a half hug. “I wonder whose eye you caught so strongly.”

“Hopefully not a Christian Grey,” Sam muttered, which made Steve blush but laugh. Over the years, the number of pop culture references Sam was able to get away with had dwindled to mostly the obscure. Evidently Christian Grey was not obscure.

“Maybe it’s someone who wants to know more about the Falcon tech?” he suggested. “Or someone who just knows you’re a really great guy. I’d pay 200k to have lunch with you.”

Sam rolled his eyes and elbowed Steve’s ribs lightly. “Lucky for you, you get me for free.”

“Well, sometimes the price of a burger.”

“Only when we go to that fancy place you like.”

“Mr. Wilson?” an event organizer said, interrupting them and looking very apologetic for it. “We’d just like to go over your preferences very quickly before we begin drafting emails. It should only take a few minutes.”

“Of course,” Sam said with a nod. He gestured for her to lead the way and then shot a look at Steve, trying to convey a suave ‘guess this is my life’ kind of energy. Steve’s laughter was not helpful in determining if he hit the mark or not.

. . .

The date was at a rooftop restaurant, near the beach. It was New York, so the hustle and bustle of the city was ever present, but the crash of the waves and the calling of the birds was a nice addition. Sam hadn’t forgotten how much he liked the peace of the beach. No amount of time away from home would ever pull the saltwater out of his bones. But perhaps he underestimated it until he was in the sand and the water again. Assuming his date was not obsessive and willing to follow Sam around, he was definitely going to get down on the beach before heading back to Steve’s for the night.

The restaurant was the kind of place Sam would never go on his own. He couldn’t picture a single reason to be at some place like this. He hadn’t even gone to Stark events like this yet. True, the rooftop part was his idea. ‘Get a bird's eye view with the Falcon.’ It was a stupid gimmick that he’d thrown down on paper at the very beginning of the planning for the auction. But, evidently, his anonymous bidder had been into the idea as well. Sam had expected some slightly upscale bar where young people looked at him like he was decrepit, but the bidder had suggested this place, which was definitely beyond upscale and had very few hip-young-person patrons.

Then again, this person had spent almost $200,000 to even get this date. What was several hundred more for food?

The foundation was paying for Sam’s food, so he was two glasses of a very good red grenache wine into the night when the waiter stopped to let him know his date was checking his coat.

A man? Sam was surprised. Everyone in the room who had bid on Sam’s date had been women. Even the last instigator had been a woman. (She had continued to instigate throughout the night. Sam kind of thought she might’ve been a plant by the foundation to drive up bids.)

He kept his eyes on the entry way onto the roof. In theory, he could’ve peered through the glass windows of the kitchen, but there was far too much going on in there for him to be able to see anything important. Instead, he kept an eye on the archway covered in roses and ivy, where a maitre d’ waited to guide people to their reserved seats–or fuss at her waitstaff.

It did not take long for Sam’s date to arrive. He knew it was him as soon as he came through the roses.

He was wearing a beautiful black on black suit, a black silk tie gleaming in the decorative fire light. His hair was pulled back in a slick, tight ponytail, sitting just a little higher than the nape of his neck so he could still tuck it into his shirt collar. Everything about him was powerful, the long sprawl of his legs, the breadth of his chest and thighs, even the curl of his gloved fingers as he circled one set around his other wrist. His blue eyes were impossibly piercing as they found Sam before the maitre d’ could even gesture over. And then he was smiling, wide and enamored. It made him look so much younger.

Sam scrambled to stand up as he made his way over, having to pause to let the maitre d’ know he could handle it on his own. By the time he did get to their little corner table, Sam still hadn’t convinced himself this wasn’t a dream.

Where have you been? Sam wanted to ask. Why would you spend $175,000 to see me?

“You could have just called,” is what he said in the end.

Bucky Barnes had not stopped smiling. It was really killing the whole mafia boss vibe he otherwise had going for himself. He brought his hands up to Sam’s face and then kissed him in front of every damn one at the restaurant. Sam’s hands went to his wrists, thumbs slipping below his sleeves and under his gloves to rub the inside of his wrists, his pulse point.

“I couldn’t stand the thought of anyone else getting this time with you. Talking to you. Maybe even touching you, even if it was just your hand or kicking your foot under the table,” he admitted under his breath, a confession just for the two of them.

“You spent almost $200,000,” Sam breathed back. “That’s more than a little jealousy.”

“Sam, you’re worth every damn dollar I’ll ever be able to find.”

Sam wanted to tuck himself against Bucky’s chest, hiding his face between his collar and jaw and just breathe in the other man. This addiction had grown faster than he’d thought possible. It hadn’t been long, in the grand scheme of things, since he’d last seen Bucky, but this moment felt like water after a drought anyway.

“I know you woulda made sure you were untraceable, but it's still very hot that you risked getting caught to make the bid,” Sam eventually said, pulling away and then pulling out Bucky’s seat for him.

Bucky gave a silly half bow and sat, waited for Sam to do the same before he said, “Someone else was bidding for me. Don’t look at me like that. I have friends.”

Sam rolled his eyes good naturedly. “I don’t know if I should be flattered or worried,” he joked.

“Well, I think the metric is: if I’m this handsome, you should be flattered.” Bucky grinned at him and it took off about two decades worth of suffering.

Sam looked suitably appalled. “Who taught you about pretty privilege and double standards?” he asked.

Bucky laughed again and hooked his ankle against Sam’s under the table. Sam didn’t let himself react visibly, but he did run the toe of his most expensive shoes up the side of Bucky’s other leg.

“I heard the Bluefin here is exquisite,” he said instead of answering.

“We are not ordering Bluefin Tuna,” Sam nixed instantly.

“Okay, okay, what about the salmon?”

Salmon wouldn’t be so bad.

. . .

The date had not included a hotel room. Obviously. Even exploitation of superheroes hadn’t hit that feverpitch yet. However, Bucky had an expensive hotel room and Sam had nothing else to do with the evening. He’d texted Steve earlier that he wasn’t about to be part of a Misery remake, so there was no one on standby waiting for his return.

Even if there had been, he was pretty sure he would have forgotten about them by the time Bucky, a little shyly and endearingly, had suggested Sam come back with him for the night. He was perfectly gentlemanly as he greeted the doorman and bragged on his date a little bit and then led Sam to the elevator. He managed to keep his hands to himself for the upwards climb and the intentionally slow walk down the hallway.

“I hope your friend isn’t sharing a room with you,” Sam said as Bucky fiddled with his keycard, crowding Sam against the door like the sexiest predator cat the world had ever seen.

“Nah,” Bucky agreed, putting his forearm against the door next to Sam’s head as he curled his whole body inwards towards Sam. “She’s not even in the country.”

He unlocked and opened the door before Sam had even seen his hand move, then caught Sam up in his arms before Sam could fall back into the apartment. His feet barely touched the ground as Bucky carried him through the room. The door shut behind them with a soft click. The hotel room was basically bigger than the lower floor of Sam’s place in DC and definitely bigger than his room at the Avengers Compound, which is where he would’ve otherwise ended up tonight.

Surprisingly, the bed was near the window, blinds down but not all the way closed. The city lights twinkled outside and bathed the white sheets in a smear of intangible watercolor. Then, when Bucky dropped him on the bed, those lights painted over Sam too. He only got to stare at them, turning his hand this way and that, for a moment before Bucky was straddling his lap and staring down at him with an open hunger. Sam could do nothing but stretch out beneath him.

Bucky’s long fingers came up to the top of his dress shirt and slowly, carefully, undid the buttons. There was none of the frantic rush that always followed them when they came together. There really wasn’t even anyone who was expecting them in a certain place. Right now, the entire scope of their existence was this room right here.

Sam shivered pleasantly as his shirt fell open. Bucky settled back against his hips, running his hands down Sam’s chest–a contrast of warm and cool fingers.

“You’re so Goddamn beautiful,” he breathed. “It’s like something new every time.”

Sam rolled his eyes to distract himself from the blush racing down his cheeks and neck. “You could take a picture,” he suggested. “Would last longer.”

“Yeah, with my memory, that’s probably true.”

Sam snorted, he couldn’t help himself, and dropped his arm over his eyes. “How do you find the most supremely unsexy things to say while you’re undressing me?”

Bucky shifted over him and a few seconds later, Sam heard the shutter of his phone’s camera. “Goddamn piece of artwork,” he reiterated before throwing his phone aside and refocusing on Sam. He leaned over Sam’s body, resting his weight against Sam pointedly. He mouthed at Sam’s neck, traveling up to his earlobe, sucking it between his lips before he whispered, “I’m gonna take you apart all night long, doll.”

Sam shivered roughly and curled one hand against the back of Bucky’s neck, turning his head to catch Bucky’s mouth on his. “You’ve gotta put on a $200,000 show, Barnes,” he taunted.

Sam felt Bucky tense up for a rebuttal. Technically Sam ought to be putting on the show, he knew. But then he felt it all ease back out of Bucky as he decided to pursue better endeavors. With one last lave of his tongue over Sam’s, he sat back against his hips again, grinding against Sam in a subtle, smooth, teasing move, and began to unbutton his own shirt. Sam took the opportunity to shrug out his own clothes quickly.

He didn’t know who had taught Bucky to strip, but the man could do it like a professional. Sam was pretty sure he’d never been more turned on in his entire life. When Bucky reached for Sam’s zipper–his own pants already undone and hanging loose around his hips in a downright sinful tease, Sam couldn’t wait any longer. He flipped them over, pinning Bucky down to the bed so they could each shove their pants out of the way while Sam fell right back into kissing Bucky like it was the only way he could breathe.

“When you walked out onto the roof, I almost dragged you right back down,” Sam breathed, grinding his thigh between Bucky’s. “You looked so good, it was like a mirage. Like a magazine spread come to life.”

“Yeah?” Bucky asked, a cocky grin coming to his lips. “The suit do it for you, doll?”

“The suit. Your hair. The fact that it was you. I’d been dreading that date. And as soon as I saw you…”

Sam could practically feel Bucky’s self-satisfaction radiating. “As soon as you saw me, what?” he prompted, wiggling his hips until Sam ground down on him again.

“As soon as I saw you, nothing else really mattered,” Sam admitted with a slow, pleased smile of his own. He felt like he’d been holding his breath all night, waiting for Bucky to disappear out of this daydream. And finally something had slotted into place and he decided this was all real.

“Right now, nothing else matters,” Bucky promised with a kiss, then flipped them over again. “Now, about taking you apart,” he purred before putting his mouth back to Sam’s body.

. . .

“What if I just never let you leave?” Bucky suggested late the next morning. Room service was about to stop serving breakfast, which was a shame because they hadn’t made it all the way through the menu yet. Bucky traced a strawberry around Sam’s mouth, dragging his lip down with it before he replaced the strawberry with his own mouth and then started all over again.

Sam was more interested in the powdered sugar on Bucky’s fingers and lips, but he was being remarkably incapable of getting any of it onto his tongue. He’d have thought Bucky got all of the teasing out of his system the night before, but evidently not. “Eventually someone would come looking for me. I only gave Steve the all-clear for one night. And the world’s probably gonna try’n implode soon, so I’ll definitely be missed then.”

Bucky hummed, dragging the strawberry over Sam’s cheek and across his jaw. “$200,000 is a lot of money. I should get two dates, y’know?”

“You only spent $175,000. And I think I earned it last night, huh?”

“Now that’s a high end date,” Bucky teased. He tossed the strawberry back onto the fruit platter and crowded over Sam’s body again, hiding his face against Sam’s warm neck.

They were getting nowhere fast this morning. At least last night had had a plotline, no matter how often they distracted each other. There was a goal to be reached. Several times. But this morning? They were just lazing around, eating more food than room service should ever send to one room, and getting lost in pointless, teasing touches.

“In another world, this is our life,” Bucky pointed out against Sam’s shoulder. “In another world, I’m just wining and dining you all the time. We live in an expensive penthouse and we just have sex all day.”

“In this scenario, where are you getting all your cash for these nights?” Sam amused.

“I dunno. Trading stock. Investing in the 40s and not touching it,” Bucky said with a shrug that jostled Sam’s entire upper body.

“You didn’t know shit about the stock market in the 40s,” Sam argued. “You don’t know shit about it now.”

He felt Bucky grin against his skin and another monumental shrug shook the bed. “Who cares? It’s a fantasy. You’re the important part of it.”

“I live an expensive life, Barnes,” Sam defended simply.

“Oh yeah,” Bucky agreed, squeezing Sam’s hips until he had to stifle a laugh and shift until Bucky. “I know all about your all-organic fruits and veggies diet. I can handle it.”

“It’s a pretty thought,” Sam conceded when he’d freed his hips and gotten Bucky’s hands away from undiscovered tickle spots. “We could get close. If you came back. If you stayed.”

“I can’t,” Bucky sighed. He turned to lay on his side next to Sam, put a hand over his chest so he could circle Sam’s nipple with his thumb as he spoke. “Not yet. There’s too much to do. It’s better if no one knows where I am yet.”

“I could help. You don’t have to do any of this alone.”

Bucky pressed three kisses to Sam’s cheek and jaw. “You do help. You’ve helped so much, Sam. I used to run right towards precipices. Didn’t care how sturdy the ground was. Now I’ve got an anchor behind me. And a guy with wings who can catch me.”

“I ain’t catching you,” Sam argued quickly. “Do you know how much you weigh?”

Bucky laughed and shook his head. They laid there in that quiet for a moment, hearts beating together as their fingers tangled and came apart.

“I will be,” Sam eventually said. “I’ll be your anchor or your wings or whatever you need. You just need to remember that we’re connected. Every anchor has a line. You go down, I’m going down too. And, when you’re ready, you follow that line right back to me. Got it?”

Bucky shifted over him, held his face gently and adoringly. “Sold, doll,” he promised and kissed Sam again.

If you enjoyed this, please consider leaving a kudos or comment on AO3

#sambucky #sam wilson #bucky barnes #captain america #the falcon and the winter soldier #sambucky fanfic #sbvday2024

46 notes · View notes