#sambucky asks

[thatmexisaurusrex]

SamBucky Romance Asks

So. Something's going around. And I was like "fuck it, let's do something fun". Reblog this if you'd like and participate too. Send an ask with one of these emojis and the person you're asking will give you a SamBucky headcanon, a short ficlet, a fic recommendation, or a tiny sketch based on the prompt.

🏥 Hurt/Comfort 💋 Almost Kiss ❤️ "You okay?" 📸 Accidental Public Confession 💭 Bickering 👀 Lingering Gazes 🛏️ Bed Sharing 🛥️ Meanwhile, on the Boat... 💕 Who Fell First 👔 Zipping or Buttoning His Jacket for/Putting a Tie on Him ☀️ "Good morning." 🍜 Sick Day 🧤 Touch 🚪 Roommates 💥 A Surprise Encounter 🤗 Cuddling 🐦 Redwing 🚨 The Moment a Mission Goes Awry 😊 Relax 🍺 Sharing a Beer 🌭 It's Not a Lunch Date 👟 Jogging 🎤 Practicing for an Interview 📕 Absolute Dorks 👠 Slow Dance

[wenellyb]

if there is one thing that is gonna happen it’s def a sambucky smooch and not a sambucky breakup

Hiiii!!! Agreed!!! Nothing even points to a breakup. They'll just be an independant power couple! Doing their thing and then meeting at home.

[plantswithme]

the full “still not funny” scene!

[kayjayo1227]

I had a dumb thought and I drew it

[panevanbuckley]

how do u mark a fic as read?????????? I don't have that button! what is this sorcery???!!!?? :O

ahh okay sorry it's literally a month late 😭

a lot of people saw this post and apparently didn't know the mark as read feature existed (which ??? i'm 95% sure y'all will recognise it once you read this post)

so anyways. say you're like me and are scrolling for a very specific fic but during that scrolling you pass a fic that also intrigues you. but you don't wanna read it yet. you also don't trust yourself to open a new tab and not lose it so you use the mark for later button!

you'll see it at the top of any fic (example below)

click this. and boom! fic has now been added to your mark for later list. which can be found under history and marked for later on your account

but if you're anything like me you probably won't actually use that list because you switch hyperfixations far too often

it does come in handy still though because when (read: if) you return to this ship/fandom and are yet again scrolling for a good fic it can help you identify fics you've read before or not. usually i'll see something that sounds interesting, open it, and either it will be bookmarked already or it will have this new button at the top:

mark as read my beloved 🥰 means this fic caught my eye in the past but i never got around to actually reading it. so yay! new fic to read!!

(unless, like in the original post, i somehow either forgot to then mark the fic as read after reading it or for some reason never bookmarked it and then i trick myself into thinking i've not seen it 💀)

[firstelevens]

Bucky + Realization of feelings at the Worst Possible Moment for the Situation(TM) prompts if you like! 🤗

45. realization of feelings at the worst possible moment

every in-canon version of this that I attempted to write made me So Sad so instead here's an extreme canon divergence that answers a question that I asked in the tags of a gifset back in November of 2021: MR AND MR SMITH AU WHEN?

Bucky is choosing to blame Steve for this.

There are probably others who are more directly at fault. Natasha feels pretty high up on that list, as does Bucky himself. But Nat is too smug to argue with, and Bucky’s blame roster is already pretty full, so he’s decided that this one can be Steve’s fault.

It’s not even that much of a stretch, really: it’s Steve who stumbled onto him while raiding what the Avengers hadn’t realized was a secret HYDRA facility, and it’s Steve who decided to defrost Bucky instead of leaving well enough alone. Steve’s the reason why Bucky ended up where he is, leading a team of technically-reformed criminals on off-the-books missions that Nick Fury deems too high profile for the Avengers, which means that Steve is the reason why, four years ago, Nick Fury sat Bucky down and told him that his lack of a social life and generally menacing demeanor were going to blow his cover any day now.

At the time, Bucky had offered to go fully off the grid, all the better to prep for missions, but Fury had just frowned at him and flatly said, “Or you could just get yourself a goddamn date.”

Part of Bucky had been convinced that it was a joke or some kind of test, but then it had been made clear to him that he would be on desk duty until he did something to shore up his cover identity. It had seemed like pure serendipity when Natasha had wandered in from a mission the next day and had a solution ready as soon as Bucky had bitched about Fury’s ultimatum over a sparring session.

“I know a guy,” she’d said to him. “Ex-military but now he’s an analyst with one of the alphabet agencies.”

“I’ll pass,” Bucky had replied, just barely dodging the roundhouse she’d aimed at his head. “I do enough espionage at work; I don’t need to go home and lie to a civilian about who I am, too.”

“That’s the best part,” Nat had said then, a gleam in her eye. “You wouldn’t have to lie.”

She’d explained, then, that this friend of hers kind of needed a cover story, too. Something about a three year waitlist for an exclusive apartment building, and fine print on the contract heavily implying that unmarried applicants would be rejected. Pretending to marry a stranger had seemed like a bit much just to secure an apartment, but then Nat had pulled up the building’s website on her phone, and Bucky knew just enough about what real estate was like these days to understand why someone might be driven to desperation for a place like that.

Bucky could claim not to know what drove him to say yes, but he’s sure it’s written as plainly on his face now as it had been back then. Sam Wilson had walked through the door, smiled exactly once, and pulled Bucky into his orbit without even trying.

It had been an astonishingly good four years. He and Sam had gone from polite roommates doing each other a favor—Bucky’s cover story had been tailored to the background check he ran on Sam, something about unexpectedly needing a new place to live and the specific requirements of being a veteran—to genuinely being friends. Aside from the one lie of omission, where Bucky had strategically avoided bringing up that he was a formerly brainwashed, hundred year old super soldier who now led an elite spy team, he got to be himself around Sam. Months into their arrangement, it became clear that Sam got to be himself around Bucky, too.

There was room in their apartment for his persistent low-grade grouchiness, and for Sam’s shocking-even-to-Bucky’s-40s-sensibilities collection of vinyl records, and even for the tiny white cat who they’d found shivering in a cardboard box one winter by the grocery store and immediately brought home. He never could have even considered a pet before, but Alpine had been the undisputed queen of their place for two years now, and when missions took Bucky away from home, Sam was there to keep her company. 

He’d even be willing to bet that she likes Sam better by now, but if that’s true, it’s hard to blame her. Bucky has spent the past year increasingly unable to ignore the warmth that settles in his chest when he unlocks the apartment to find Sam curled up on the couch, frowning at his tablet like it personally wronged him. It always takes Sam an extra half-second to realize that Bucky is in the room, and then he smiles just like he did that very first day, and Bucky is a goner for it every time.

It took a particularly harrowing mission to nudge Bucky out of being a coward. He’d been trapped under a collapsed building somewhere outside Prague, smoke filling the air with no sign of help on its way, and when Bucky had closed his eyes in defeat, all he’d been able to think of was Sam and Alpine on that couch, waiting for him to come home.

He’d flown back stateside, taken an extra couple of days to heal up from his injuries, and made his plans to tell Sam everything tonight. 

Bucky has already picked up dessert from the tiny French spot in Dupont Circle that Sam pretends not to love, and there’s an absurdly big flower arrangement that will be ready for Bucky to pick up just as soon as he gets out of whatever meeting was so urgent and secret that it had to be held after all personnel had left the building for the night.

In the elevator on the way up, Yelena mentions a team from a different agency, something about a joint operation to protect a recently turned asset, even though reformed agents are very clearly Bucky’s team’s jurisdiction.

“Don’t worry about it,” says Bucky, as they step out of the elevator. “If they wanted us to play nice, they should have thought about that before elbowing their way onto our turf.”

Yelena makes a noise of acknowledgment and opens the door to the conference room. As soon as she does, Bucky is instantly aware of two things.

One: there is a very small baby in the room, swaddled in a green blanket and fast asleep.

Two: Bucky’s husband is in the room, cradling the baby in his arms and gently swaying. It is the first time ever that it hasn’t taken him an extra half-second to notice Bucky walking through the door.

Bucky feels all the air leave his lungs and can’t remember how to get it back. He’s certain that he looks as shocked as he feels.

He can’t help but notice that Sam, on the other hand, doesn’t.

“Agent Barnes, Agent Belova,” says Fury. “I’d introduce you to Agent Wilson, but I think it might be a little late for that.”

[livingincolorsagain]

Hi, can I make a short ramble request?? Pls, tell me the beauty of why sam's the sun and bucky's the moon?? I have minimal understanding of what this dynamic means and I wanna know how, welp.

Have a good one ahead of you!

Hi, anon, you’re always more than welcome to do so! <3

The sun/moon dynamic is about opposites attract. The sun character is usually upbeat and optimistic, while the moon character is more reserved and moody. That’s what I think it is on the surface anyway.

I don’t think that’s necessary why the sun/moon dynamic works for sambucky, though. Sam is the sun because he burns bright, is warm, and, well, has more boiling beneath the surface than he lets on. Bucky is the moon because he’s quiet and he’s resilient and he’s steady and optimistic, and yeah, okay, he reflects Sam’s light. Like, he lets himself be lighter around Sam, and he gives Sam the space to let out everything he always tries to hide and hold back. Bucky wears his heart on his sleeve, he is quiet and moody sometimes, but you can look at his face and just see him. You can’t just look at Sam’s face, he burns too bright.

But, well, that’s the whole point of the moon, right? To reflect the sun’s light and light up the sky when it’s dark? That’s why I think the sun/moon metaphor works for them. Bucky takes in some of Sam’s fire and use it to make the dark days a little lighter, for both of them. And Sam lets him.

[fiprobably]

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.

[katatonicimpression]

Doodle prompt! Since this part of Europe is in the middle of a heat wave - Sam (or sambucky) with ice cream 🥵🍦

(An act of bullying tbh)

[cobrafantasies]

Rules: Share a snippet from whatever you’re currently working on, and then tag 5 people.

Thank you for tagging me @sunsetmaidenwrites!

I currently only have two wips and one is a Halloween fic, which would be my first :)

No pressure, tagging @heyitsyav, @sambambucky, @ateerys-punctuationpanic, @soliloquent-stark, @bastianfruit

Since becoming Captain America, this may be the dumbest shit Sam has ever done. But he wanted a night out. One where he didn’t have to pose for thirty selfies and sign people’s sneakers or forearms with whatever shitty pen they could find. Where he didn’t have to fake-smile through an elderly man’s proclamation about history changing right before his eyes.

He just wanted a normal night out and Halloween seemed like the perfect pick when he found a bar hosting a costume party. So, yeah, Sam decided to wear a full-concealing, goblin mask that hides every inch of his face. It’s quite ugly. The rest of him is decked out in dark green. Suede, forest green suit pants and a long-sleeve, green turtle neck. A goblin has got to dress up sometime. 

He’s not going to win the costume contest and he doesn’t want to. His whole goal tonight is to relax in the glorious anonymity. Maybe dance a little dirty with a guy and if he’s lucky, find a dark enough room for him to take his mask off and make out with someone.

[wenellyb]

It's a weird feeling when I see you reblogging your old sambucky post because I go to like it and then I see I already did 3 years ago so I just sit there like what is time?! It's been 3 years?!

Hi!!! Right??? It's the same for me.... I reblog some old posts and look at the date and realize it has been that long!!! I still love them together and sometimes it feels like it was only last year

[thatmexisaurusrex]

sam and bucky have a tiny argument over the smallest thing (like truly not that significant in the long run) but they both give each other the silent treatment and don't know how to end it because it spiraled out of control and they thought about it too much, and it became a thing out of nothing. so now maybe sam is like yeah, this is stupid, but i can't just let it slide every single time. he needs to reach out first and acknowledge my feelings and i have to stand my ground since i already distanced myself. meanwhile bucky is convinced it's all his fault and they broke up forever. he knows the fight was stupid but in his brain he makes himself believe this will keep happening because of him and sam deserves better than someone who keeps getting it wrong. maybe he doesn't even reach out, simply empties his drawer in the middle of the night and tries to slip out of sam's life. 😶

Send Me a Headcanon or a Microfic Prompt

If this is why the divorce era happens, I'm going to cry. You can't be putting this down and making me pick it up 😭 Okay, I'm going to fix it. You're not asking me to, but I'm fixing it.

In the Middle of the Night

Sam heard it.

He heard the rummaging of someone in his room. And for a brief, tense moment, Sam wondered if someone had broken in. Someone was here to hurt his family and Sam couldn't - Sam wouldn't let that happen.

And Sam's body moved before he could process what exactly was happening. He was sitting on this man, his thighs pressed on the man's sides. Sam had the entire body of James Buchanan Barnes sprawled on the ground under him as he held Bucky's wrists.

The both of them.

Breathing.

Breathing each other's air.

And Sam wouldn't say this was usually how he would capture an intruder, but hey, maybe his body had known something he hadn't when he sprang into action.

There was an intensity in Bucky's eyes.

Which.

Wasn't a new thing.

There was always an intensity to those eyes; piercing Sam's well-crafted armor.

They both.

Relaxed a touch.

But there was still a tenseness there. Not because of danger, but because of an argument. A small, nothing argument that Sam couldn't let happen again.

Because it always happened. Over and over, Bucky seemed to not take Sam's thoughts into consideration. And while the argument itself was a nothing one, wasn't important, the underlining problem was a major issue.

"What are you doing sneaking into my room in the middle of the night?" asked Sam.

Which, if Sam had asked Bucky that a few weeks ago, it would have been playful; there would have been a smile on his face.

"I was gathering my things," Bucky said simply.

And.

Sam glanced at Bucky's hands - saw t-shirts; clothes scattered on the floor from their skirmish.

Sam.

Sam slumped, the fight knocked out of him like a gut punch.

"You're seriously leaving me?" whispered Sam into the quiet room.

Bucky furrowed his brow.

"You don't want that?" asked Bucky.

Sam laughed bitterly. Because that was still the problem, that was the entire fucking problem.

"I want you to ask me what I want, James," Sam spelled out clearly, "I don't want you to do things assuming what I want."

And.

And maybe Bucky finally understood. He relaxed under Sam. He brought his hands up to Sam's face and held it.

"What do you want?" asked Bucky softly.

"For you to apologize. For you to put your fucking clothes back in the drawer. For you to get back in bed with me instead of sleeping on the couch," said Sam honestly.

Bucky sat up. His forehead touched Sam's and - and Bucky leaned even closer.

"I'm sorry," he said tenderly between kisses, "I'll put the clothes back up. I'll get in bed with you."

Sam held Bucky's wrists even tighter.

"You better," grumbled Sam before he reluctantly got up.

Sam settled back into bed as he watched Bucky put his clothes away in his drawer; as Bucky joined him in bed, Bucky's arms wrapped around Sam.

And Sam.

Sam hadn't slept so well in weeks.

[ineffablelvrs]

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

[exbex]

Hi! For the intimacy prompts: SamBucky + 21?

Sam’s heartrate is probably returning to its normal resting rate. 

Bucky’s, on the other hand, is definitely increasing.

Sam is standing in the kitchen, wearing what he calls runner’s leggings, what Bucky calls an imminent danger to motorists, and the royal blue hoodie that threatens to do Bucky in. He’s drinking from a metal water bottle and Bucky is losing his mind because he’s jealous of a damn bottle.

Sam turns to him and grins, and Bucky’s heartrate increases at the way his eyes light up, as if Bucky is the best thing he can think of coming home to. “Morning Sleepyhead.”

“Morning,” Bucky murmurs, and crosses the few feet between them. He takes the hem of the hoodie of excellence in his fingers, pauses, giving Sam time to put the brakes on, and when Sam just gives him a playful look, he begins to inch it up. “You look like you need to cool off.”

“Is that what you’re doing?” Sam smirks, but he lifts his arms to allow Bucky to pull it over his head and off.

Bucky leans in, kisses the pulse point in Sam’s neck. “Gotta check your heartrate; make sure it’s returning to normal.”

“I don’t think it’s gonna do that with you this close,” Sam says as he tilts his head to give Bucky easier access.

Bucky pulls away, slots his hands on the backs of Sam’s thighs. “Up,” he says, and lifts Sam in one easy movement. He relishes the way Sam gasps and wraps his legs around Bucky’s waist, leans his ear against Sam’s chest, and listens to his heart.

It’s strong, and steady, and reminds Bucky, more than the hoodie of excellence, more than the danger leggings, more than anything else at all, that he is damned lucky to be alive.

[firstelevens]

WIP Tag Game

Rules: Share a snippet from whatever you’re currently working on, and then tag 5 people.

tagged by @abarbaricyalp

no-pressure tagging @sesamestreep @philtstone @trans-elrond @iasmelaion @sambambucky

the actual thing that I am currently working on is the next chapter of the D&D AU and I'm trying not to jinx that, so instead here's an excerpt from an idea that came from a "loss of powers" prompt and immediately got way too long

In the eight minutes that it takes for Yelena to pilot the jet down the runway and up to the mouth of the hangar, Sam has managed to envision every possible bad situation. He thinks about the aftermath of explosions, about alien poisons and unknown creatures rising from the sea. Even as the gangway comes down and Sam hurries on board with two of the medics, he’s envisioning something nightmarish.

It’s more frightening, somehow, to see what’s actually happened: Bucky is laid up on a stretcher, paler than Sam’s ever seen him and shivering uncontrollably in spite of the multiple blankets and jackets that Yelena has laid over him. His lips are nearly blue, his breathing shallow and rattling just a little. There’s bruising showing beneath the collar of his compression shirt, winding back towards his left shoulder.

“Dislocated shoulder?” asks one of the medics, peering at the bruises when Sam shifts the collar out of the way.

“Unlikely,” says Sam, biting back the impulse to say something more cutting about knowing who the hell he’s treating. Bucky is unconscious, but Sam still murmurs an apology when he stops the gurney transfer to hit the plates of Bucky’s vibranium arm in the pattern that Bucky taught him. He catches the arm as it detaches with a click, hefting it against his shoulder. He doesn’t know if the bruises came from the arm or from something else, but he’ll be damned if he lets them get worse.

The medics wheel Bucky back to the infirmary and Sam hands the vibranium arm off to Torres, trusting him to find somewhere safe for it. He turns to Yelena and motions for her to follow as he stays by the gurney’s side.

“Are you okay?” he asks her, as she joins them. “If you’re injured at all, the medics can take care of it for you.”

But Yelena waves off the offer, focused on Bucky. “He was cut on his stomach,” she says, before Sam can ask, “but he could walk after, so it was not so bad, I think. He took another one to the leg. That was worse.”

“And the shrapnel?” asks Sam.

“Grenade,” Yelena says. “He pushed me out of the way. Would have been fine, except they were trying to blow up the door from a steel shipping container. It came down on his leg.”

“Fractured?”

Yelena shrugs. “He would not let any of us see. Was his ankle, maybe.”

Sam steps back and lets the medics transfer Bucky to a bed. His shivering gets worse with the blankets removed, but there’s no way to check on those injuries without cutting open his shirt.

There are bruises everywhere, still purple and angry. As they cut the shirt open, Sam braces for the sight of a bad gash on Bucky’s stomach and is met instead with a dressed wound, a fresh compress taped down at the edges.

He turns to Yelena. “When did you do this?”

“He did,” says Yelena. “This morning. Or maybe yesterday? Time is strange; we lost hours on the jet.”

“Yesterday?” repeats Sam. “When did all this happen?”

“Thursday, late night,” says Yelena. “He said it was okay. We came to the safe house, he cleaned the wound, he hopped around on one foot, and I laughed at him and it seemed like it was fine.”

“And then what?”

“It should have healed overnight,” says Yelena. “Alexei and Walker, they were caught in the blast, too. By morning they were back to normal.”

“Yeah, that’s how the super soldier healing works,” Sam says absently. 

It takes a second for his own words to sink in, his eyes dropping to Bucky, laid out on the table with all his injuries still fresh.

Sam has seen Bucky break a rib and rough-house with the boys twelve hours later. He’s seen new cuts turn to scars over the course of a jet ride home. The last time Bucky got shot, the only reason they rushed to treat him was because there was a chance the wound would heal over the bullet before they could get it out.

Particularly bad injuries will leave their mark for a few days, but normal bruises have never lingered like this on Bucky’s skin, and lacerations heal so quickly that Bucky tends to refuse butterfly bandages for them on principle. (Except for the one time that AJ and Cass were there to see him get patched up, when he was suddenly a model patient, and allowed Sam to fuss over him for twice as long without a single complaint.)

“But how…?” he starts to ask, then looks up at Yelena. “You said there’s no change?”

“None,” she says. “But there’s something I didn’t tell you.”

She goes into one of the many pockets on her vest, patting around until she gets to the right one. She unzips it and pulls out an evidence baggie, which she holds up for Sam to see. Inside is the kind of dart that would go in a tranq gun, but the vial at the back is broken.

Sam takes the bag and peers at the dart. “Where’d this come from?”

“I don’t know,” Yelena says. “I found it embedded in Alexei’s body armor. The blast must have broken it.”

“What does it have to do with Bucky?”

“Because someone in a sniper’s nest shot one at Walker also,” says Yelena. “And I thought I saw Barnes pull something from his neck before the grenade.”

He frowns. “And they didn’t fire them at anyone else?”

Yelena shakes her head. “They missed when they fired at Walker, so maybe it’s nothing.”

“But you don’t think so, or you wouldn’t have brought Bucky back here.”

“Whatever this is, it’s dangerous. I think it is not so good if the Contessa knows about it.”

It’s not too much of a stretch of the imagination for Sam to picture what Fontaine might do if she found out about a chemical compound that could affect the serum this way. Hell, it’s not a stretch of the imagination to picture what most powerful people would do.

Sam thanks Yelena and tells her to rest up before she flies back. She’s going to say no, he thinks, and then Kate appears and says something about mac and cheese, and Yelena is being pulled along with her whether she likes it or not.

When Joaquín comes through the doors a second later, Sam is surprised to see him already wearing his flight suit. “How did you–?”

He grins. “Give me a little credit, Cap. This is Bucky we’re talking about.”

He can’t find it in him to argue the knowing grin on Joaquín’s face. “Thank you,” he says, handing over the evidence bag. “Fly safe.”

“I always do,” Joaquín says, zipping the baggie into a pocket and turning on his heel. “I’ll let you know when I get there.”

As the infirmary doors swing shut behind Torres, Sam looks down at Bucky, who’s back under multiple layers of blankets as one of the medics gets an IV in his arm. The shivering has come down, but his lips still look blue, his breaths still shallow.

He brushes away some of the hair sticking to Bucky’s forehead—the only part of him that Sam can reach—and opens up the app that Bucky made him download a year ago, insisting that he might need it one day.

There are exactly two contacts saved in the app. Sam hits the second one and waits.

[ateerys-punctuationpanic]

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