If Theo dies (he won't) in this fight, I might lose a piece of my soul to this series. You think Wifies/Odyssey duo fans are annoying? Just wait until you see me without Theo
sam and bucky working together is like those two really smart people in class when they work together and all the sudden they only have one brain cell divided between the two of them
Sam's touch is electric as his hand goes to cover Bucky's on the worn porch rail. Bucky turns his hand so their palms meet, fingers lacing together. "Because you have wings, Sam." he says, holding on to him for dear life. "And being near you makes me remember I have them too, even if they've been folded away for so long."
Razorbill
Gull
Osprey
Falcon
Bluejay
Dove
Sparrow
CW: Set in the 90s (for some reason) | Enemies to lovers but also love at first sight ???? Idk what I was cooking | Bucky is the proud owner of the Yearn-a-tron 3000. Like he's yearning so much. It's pathetic. If you see me acting the way he does shoot me like a horse because I won't be of any use to anyone. | Queen Alpine takes a lot of naps | Sam knows Bucky wants that cookie | Sam Wilson is my baby girl and will be treated as such throughout the fic | Meet ugly | Kinda angsty ending sorry | Bucky's a twenty-something year old emo teen | Grumpy x ragebaiter | Long-distance relationship? Bucky’s never heard of her | The setting is very vague and weird. don't think about it too much | i know Sam’s the one who grew up around boats but pls cut me some slack I’ll make it worth your time | Bucky's arm was injured during the gulf war (which i dont know much about tbh) | Steve haunts the narrative (which makes it hard to pass the Bechdel test) | god did not grant me the patience required to write slow burn but I did my best with what I had | Sam’s a bit of a workaholic but we love her.
A/N: This might just be me projecting my Bucky crush on Sam and my Sam crush on Bucky but make it Brandy (You're a fine Girl). If you don’t know the song I highly recommend you go listen to it and really internalize the lyrics (very important). It’s in the playlist below. And if Bucky sounds a little angry at Steve, it’s cause I’m angry at Steve.
Racists, misogynists, homophobes, biphobes, transphobes and any other haters DNI. Minors, please be aware that some of my posts may be mature for you and as you are responsible for the media you consume, please be careful.
Hi, I'm Lily. Welcome to my blog. I hope you find something you like.
Lily's Masterlist-II
- Psychopomp II Bucky Barnes [Masterlist I] [Masterlist II]
- Bucky Does his Best ll Sam & Bucky [Masterlist] (completed)
- Once Upon a Time in Bucharest II b.b
- The Enduring Myth of Heaven II winterwidow
- Without You II Yelena & Kate
- Worlds Apart II wandavision
- Roommates II Andrew!Peter P. & MBJ!Jonny S.
- Everything, Everywhere ll Steve & Bucky (oneshot)
- New Perspective ll Yelena Belova
- Date Knight ll Sam Wilson (oneshot)
- The Bed Situation ll Sam & Bucky (oneshot)
Lily's Masterlist I my spotify
if you have requests to make, would like to be added to my tag list or just wanna talk, my dms are always open 💜
CW: Lots of pet names for Bucky, none of them nice.
AN: I honestly have no clear setting for this. I just saw this one post and got inspired. Btw the working title for this was ‘glass closet’ and I’d completely forgotten that that was a concept on its own until literally the last minute. ~1.3K words.
The clerk looks up from the thick ledger and pops her gum loudly in Sam’s face. She looks all of sixteen and like she should be in school. Not manning the front desk of this derelict motel at seven thirty in the morning. “Sorry,” she drawls, “but there’s only one room left.”
Sam leans on the counter, discreetly trying to take a peek at the ledger. The girl notices and immediately shuts the ledger with a resounding thud. He gives her a sheepish smile, deciding to try another tactic. “What’s the bed situation?” he asks. “Twins?”
“Nope.” she answers, popping the P. “One queen sized.”
Bucky makes a strangled sound from behind Sam, almost like an engine backfiring. “Absolutely not.”
The girl gives Bucky a bored glance before her lifeless eyes slide back to Sam as if asking, What’ll it be?
Sam turns to Bucky. “We’ve done this before, man.” he says. “Remember Brussels? That night you kept rolling over to my side of the bed and calling me Steve.”
“That never happened.” Bucky denies.
“Bucky.” Sam tries the gentle approach. “I’m tired. Neither of us can keep driving in this rain and god knows where the next motel is. For once in your life just listen to me.”
Bucky turns away from Sam with a pout but doesn’t protest further.
Sam turns back to the clerk and braves a smile. “We’ll take it.”
Ten minutes later, the two men stand inside a tiny room with banana yellow wallpaper and tacky paintings of clowns on the walls— the biggest of which is hung right above the very singular bed in the middle of the room.
Bucky suddenly starts laughing. Sam follows his line of sight to the right side of the room where what appears to be the bathroom is separated from the rest of the room only by a thin barely frosted panel of glass.
“This keeps getting better and better.” Bucky says through gritted teeth, glaring at Sam as if he was the one who designed the room to be this way.
Sam grins at Bucky. “A motel room with an en suite, Bucky. This is peak luxury.” Bucky doesn't seem to appreciate the joke. Sam sighs, dropping his duffel bag onto a rickety chair by the door. “It’s just one night, Buck. Suck it up.”
But Bucky wouldn’t move. He stands by the door, hands crossed over his chest, glaring at the bed like it had personally wronged him.
“Fine, you can spend the night standing there if you want. I’m gonna go shower.” Sam says, pulling his towel and travel bathroom kit from his bag. He stops at the glass partition. “Don’t look.”
“What’s there to see?” Bucky grumbles.
“Ohhh,” Sam laughs. “Wouldn’t you like to know, cyborg.”
By the time Sam leaves the shower, feeling refreshed and a little less worse for wear, he finds Bucky slumped on the bed, the exhaustion seeming to have won over his stubbornness. “Your turn, big guy.”
Bucky gets up and starts for the bathroom. “Don’t look.”
Sam feigns a gasp. “Oh. But it would be so hard to resist the temptation. Whatever shall I do?”
Bucky strips his shirt off, throws it in Sam’s face. “Keep this over your eyes.”
“God dammit, Bucky.” Sam mutters, peeling the shirt off his face and throwing it aside. “Why can’t you take a joke?”
Bucky takes significantly longer in the shower. Sam takes this time to change out the sheets with ones he finds in the closet and catch up on his correspondence with Joaquin.
When Bucky finally comes out of the shower followed by a puff of steam— hair wet and skin flushed— he’s still pouting.
Sam glances up from his phone. “Bed or floor? Your choice, old man. I don’t care either way as long as you keep to your side.”
“There are no sides to this thing.” Bucky complains, digging through his pack for something to change into. “It’s the size of a postage stamp.”
“Then I’ll pick a side and you figure it out from there.”
Bucky’s jaw tightens as he glares daggers at Sam who’s already fluffing up a pillow and getting comfortable in the bed after a long day of dealing with all kinds of evil and Bucky himself.
Bucky dresses and flops onto the other side with a theatrical sigh.
Sam side eyes Bucky’s stiff-limbed form and rolls his eyes. “Will you relax? I don’t bite.”
“That never happened.” Sam denies. “Just get in the bed, will you? I’m gonna turn the lights off.”
Although he doesn’t stop muttering to himself, Bucky finally relents, climbing under the covers stiffly, his spine a straight line. Despite his earlier complaints about the size of the bed, he leaves a canyon of empty mattress between them.
Sam turns off the lamp on his side’s night stand, plunging the room into darkness except for the faint glow of the parking lot lights seeping through the curtains.
For a long moment, there’s only the hum of the AC and the distant sound of rain hitting the aluminum roof above them.
Then Bucky mutters, "You're breathing loud."
Sam rolls his eyes. "I'm breathing normally. You're just listening."
"I can hear your heartbeat from here."
"Then stop listening to my heartbeat, you absolute weirdo." Sam retorts. The silence stretches before Sam breaks it again. “Why are you so weirded out by this anyway?” he whispers. ”Is everything okay?”
"I'm fine," Bucky says after a moment of quiet. "Just… not used to this."
"Sharing a bed?"
“You.” Bucky corrects.
“What about me?” Sam prompts.
“You… you make me nervous, Sam.”
“I make the bionic staring machine nervous?” Sam whispers back, a laugh in his voice.
Bucky clicks his tongue. “Shut up, Wilson.” He shifts in bed as he turns his back on Sam fully. “Forget I ever said anything.”
“Fine, I’m sorry.” Sam whispers, scooting closer. “I won’t make fun again. Just please talk to me.”
Fabric rustles as Bucky turns back to face Sam. “I think I have feelings for you.” he whispers into the dark. “No, I know I have feelings for you. And it's fine if you don’t feel the same—“
“Bucky—“
“But Nat said I should just man up and tell you. But you’re just so hard to talk to sometimes—“
“Bucky—“
Bucky keeps talking over him. “—and you’re always getting on my nerves—“
“Bucky!”
“What?”
“I like you too.” Sam whispers, feeling his heartbeat in his ears.
Bucky’s silent for a long time. “You really do? You’re not messing with me again?”
Sam resists the urge to shake same sense into the man. “Of course, I feel the same way.” he whispers. “I’ve been sending you hints this whole time, ya big dummy.”
“Well, it’s hard to tell with all the name calling.” Bucky grumbles.
“It’s how I flirt.” Sam lets that sit for a second. Then he reaches across the no-man's-land of sheets and finds Bucky's hand. Metal fingers, warm from being under the blanket, curl hesitantly around his own. "Get over here," Sam murmurs, tugging.
Bucky comes. Not all at once— but a slow shuffle, like he’s crossing a bridge he isn’t sure would hold. When he’s close enough that Sam can feel his breath, he stops.
Sam doesn’t let go of his hand. He runs his thumb over Bucky's knuckles. “I’m glad you told me.” he murmurs.
“Me too.” Sam can almost hear the smile in Bucky’s voice. Then Bucky inches even closer. “Is it just me or does that clown have glowing red eyes?” he asks.
Sam looks up at where the creepy clown painting is hanging above their heads. “Oh, those eyes are definitely glowing.” he whispers back. “But I'm too tired to care.”
Bucky huffs a small laugh. “Good night, Sam."
Sam shifts closer until their foreheads almost touch. The bed is still the same size it was when this whole thing started, but suddenly it doesn’t feel so small. In fact, it’s the perfect size. “Night, Buck.”
In the morning, Sam wakes to sunlight streaming through the window and a vibranium arm thrown across his chest, with Bucky's face pressed into his shoulder, snoring softly. He doesn't move. He doesn't want to. He only smiles down at Bucky and goes back to sleep.
DOES ANYBODY HAVE ANY FICS ABOUT BUCKY REVERTING BACK TO THE WINTER SOLDIER MODE AND SAM HAVING TO DEAL WITH HIM POST OR DURING TFATWS/?? PLEASEEEEEE ANYBODY IM DESPERATE
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