👸🏾

only here for anthony mackie capmackie on AO3

[capmackie]

my blog’s been picking up steam recently so friendly reminder that i (used to 😅) write for sambucky

https://archiveofourown.org/users/capmackie/pseuds/capmackie

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

[capmackie]

signs of love making ✨

—or Bucky takes a ride through the 12 zodiac signs

[found this is the drafts & decided to post it — also on AO3]

It’s no coincidence that Bucky meets Brad in October. If there was ever a month that felt like home to Bucky, it’s this one, and Brad evokes those same feelings. He’s Prince Charming personified —fair-skinned and fair-minded and Bucky, for a moment, lets himself get lost in the fairytale. But this is the real world and October reminds us that, like the trees who shed, we all have something we hide underneath.

Brad had an October as well.

The leaves are falling when Bucky meets Tom. It’s a chilly November day but nothing sends a chill down Bucky’s spine quite like Tom’s intense gaze, gold-green eyes seeing directly into his soul.

Tom — Bucky quickly finds out — is all big talk and big action and big dick wrapped tightly into a shell of a person and Bucky, for all of his self-awareness, wonders how someone so full of themselves can ever make space for another. There’s pieces of him Bucky will never know — a darkness even the Winter Soldier has never experienced— and, strangely, it’s kind of nice to not be the only enigma in the room. But just like those falling leaves, Tom can’t stay — here one day, gone the next.

December’s a funny one.

Robin’s a funny one. No seriously, she’s hilarious and Bucky realizes he’s never laughed this loud or this hard with someone before. It’s new and fresh and exhilarating. Robin’s a canvas of bright colors, each one more captivating than the last and Bucky wants nothing more than to get lost in the masterpiece of a woman sitting in front of him. But Robin is no portrait— unable to be stationary for too long, belonging to no one — so Bucky call it quits. Admires her beauty from afar and remembers that all good things must come to an end.

It’s January when he meets Dave.

Dave’s a brute of a man; all wide shoulders and thick neck and grubby hands. Hands that pin Bucky down while he’s behind him, inching deeper and deeper into Bucky’s tight heat.

Dave fucks like he does literally everything else, with a laser-focused intensity, like everything in the world is his for the taking.

He’s bossy and demanding and Bucky wonders how someone who goes so hard, so fast doesn’t burn out; how he has anything left to give with the way he pours himself into his work, into his status, later that night, into Bucky.

But they both know it’s never meant to last so they part ways amicably; sometimes Bucky’ll send him a picture of the goat he tends and they’ll both get a laugh out of it.

It’s February when he meets John.

John’s a hard man to grasp and Bucky’s tried and tried, Lord knows he tried — to hold on to him but he flits through Bucky’s closed fist, just like water.

John’s lean, built like a runner. Has the endurance of one as well, easily matching Bucky orgasm for orgasm and Bucky thinks John might’ve gotten ahold to the super-soldier serum as well.

John is a man right out of Bucky’s dreams; a great conversationalist, an even better fuck and Bucky thinks this is it, this is where he can settle down, build himself a home in John.

But John’s an individualist, a one-man army convinced he’s gonna dismantle the machine.

Bucky’s had enough of armies and following blue-eyed blondes into war. He’s tired of fighting against machines; shit, he has that battle every time he looks in the mirror.

So begrudgingly, he shoves his clothes on, shoves his beating heart back in his chest, leaves John and John’s apartment, all the same.

You can’t hold on to water anyway.

It’s March and Bucky’s tired of random hookups.

He’s tired of the overused tropes, tired of pretending to be interested in whatever the other party is saying, tired of them pretending to be interested in what he’s saying.

He’s in his own place, sated by a cool beer and the warm air floating through an open window in his bedroom.

It’s a warm night, the warmest it’s been in awhile, and sweat prickles on his neck, races down his forehead. He’s feels like a live wire, like his skin is stretched too tightly; somehow, he feels everything and nothing at all.

But then he feels something else, a warm hand snaking up his thigh, pulling the waistband of his shorts down exposing him to the warm air.

The hand is soft, sure in its’ movements like it knows what it’s doing, like it knows exactly how to get Bucky off. It’s cupping Bucky’s balls, rolling them in its calloused grasp, slowly moving upwards until it’s wrapped around hard flesh, strokes it once, wrist turning upward right around the sensitive head.

The hand works quickly, brings Bucky to the edge, leaves him there for a moment, then fully strokes his orgasm out of him, a small scream as well.

Bucky rides his orgasm out, catching his breath, sucking in gulps of humid air. Once his lungs are back to working capacity, he goes to wash the evidence of his activities off of his right hand.

It’s April, May, and then June and Bucky can’t be damned to keep up with the passage of time, the months just as fleeting as the people that come, and then go, in Bucky’s life are.

Andy’s brash and stubborn, never backs down from a challenge and Bucky likes that. Likes that someone calls him on his shit, likes how he’s everything the Winter Soldier isn’t; hot-headed and warm-blooded.

Their relationship burns out just as quickly as it starts and Bucky doesn’t mind, he knows that something’s have to burn down just so something else can start anew.

Mikea is just as stubborn, if not more, than Andy. But she’s sweet, and loyal and grounded in who she is and what her beliefs are. She’s a mountain unmoved in the face of a storm and her unwillingness to bend or sway leaves Bucky infatuated and irritated in equal measures.

But Bucky can look past the stubbornness, can ignore the penchance for confrontation, if only for a little while, when Mikea’s underneath him, staring at him like he’s the reason the sun and the planets exists. In those moments, Bucky can see his entire future in those eyes; liquid gold, so deep, he feels rich off of her gaze even with no money in his pocket.

Their differences are just too much though; creates valleys in between them, deep and far apart, and they have to call it quits. Bucky’s upset about it, upset at losing his rock but then he’s distracted in the whirlwind of chaos caused by Greg.

And a whirlwind it is.

Greg is almost like two people at once, a Dr. Jerkel and Mr. Hyde monster, but he’s a master of words. His slick tongue eases Bucky into some semblance of a relationship and then his slick tongue eases itself somewhere else on Bucky.

They break up in a flurry of words that Bucky can’t bring himself to say. Greg eventually does, in that syrupy-sweet voice Bucky used to catch a sugar high from. Now it just makes him sick.

July is interesting.

July is a blur of meeting what’s his name, bedding what’s his name and then ghosting what’s his name. He wants to feel bad about it, cause no seriously — what was his name, is so kind and soft and impossibly perfect. But this one has a martyr complex like you wouldn’t believe, strong back crafted from carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.

This guy reminds Bucky of someone else but he doesn’t stop to dwell on it.

It’s August when Bucky meets James.

They bond over having the same name, the same drink order, and similarly glorious hair. Bucky has his swept back off of his face in a neat bun, showcasing his gorgeous cheekbones but other James lets his hair fly free, soft curls in his Afro framing his beautiful face.

Bucky tells him that it looks like a lion’s mane and James completely cracks up, has to hold on to the bar and then Bucky’s knee to keep himself upright.

James is still laughing about the dumb hair joke even as they fuck hard and fast, almost animalistic.

James isn’t laughing when Bucky calls it quits.

It’s September and he’s in D.C. for no particular reason when he runs, quite literally, into Sam.

It’s the same old Sam, except he’s filled out more, arms straining against the fabric of his sweat-soaked shirt. He has a little bit more facial hair than the last time Bucky’s seen him, some of it has even started to gray.

Bucky’s curious, wonders if the weight of the new title is aging Sam quicker than it should.

He wants to ask, wants to pry, but Sam’s smiling at him, all big and goofy and Bucky forgets everything he wants to ask. Let’s himself be enveloped in the warmth of Sam’s smile, ignores the fact that he’s been so cold for so long and never realized it until Sam, sunshine in human form, smiled at him and warmed him right up.

Sam’s practical, methodical, has an answer for everything, even when he doesn’t. A constant in a world ever-changing and Bucky thinks, knows this could be it. Cause Sam is patient and virtuous, tender in ways Bucky never knew he needed. Never knew he could need.

And it’s in this moment, on the last leg of their jogging session past the Lincoln Memorial and the reflecting pool, that Bucky realizes that his entire life has led up to this moment. That the ones he’s loved and the ones he lost all taught him valuable lessons about how he wanted to love and be loved in return.

Cause Sam’s an angelic being, a slice of heaven he doesn’t have to die (again) to taste.

And Bucky thanks his lucky stars for it.

[livingincolorsagain]

photos from the set of cap 4

[theambitiouswoman]

Everyone*

[capmackie]

is this still on? 👀

[capmackie]

apparently this blog turned 3 today so i’m shitposting an unfinished sambucky story 😅

[capmackie]

just want to be a part of your show

It goes without saying that Bucky Barnes is one observant motherfucker. Even before the serum — before the fall and the snow and the cold — Bucky’s always had a keen eye, a sniper’s eye, an attention to detail that rivaled no other. But then the fall and the snow and the cold had all happened and yet there it was still; his keen sense of observation, honed even further during his time kept as the Winter Soldier.

Even now, just as regular Bucky, very few things get past him.

Which is why it comes as a complete and utter surprise to see some kind of high-resolution Bucky — and yes, Bucky knows what a gif is and how to pronounce it, thank you very much — of him, obviously caught off-guard, looking so adoringly, longingly at Sam.

All soft and sweet, the affection for his partner that Bucky’s tries his damndest to lock up and hide, etched clear as day on his face.

And Bucky’s well aware of both the time and the place that the picture was taken but what he isn’t sure of is who could have taken it and why in all holy Hell would the mystery person decide to upload it to the internet with the caption:

“Get somebody who looks at you like the Winter Soldier looks at Captain America (the cool one, not Steve)”.

———

Shockingly, and to absolutely everyone’s surprise, Sam and Bucky work amazingly well as a team.

The duo are compliments in every way that matters: Sam’s gracefulness, Bucky’s raw aggression. The lithe way Sam soars through the sky, drawing eyes to him and away from Bucky — a man who’s always done his best work on the ground — pummeling through guard after guard until the coast is clear and the job is done. SHIELD clearly, obviously flourishes under their dual leadership.

It’s easy to dismiss their work as something that’s supposed to be done but there’s a sense of pride within the organization now, of the realization that not only are they fighting the good fight but they’re winning it too. More successful missions means more parents that get to go home to their children, more lives saved than lost, and here’s the kicker, more press statements as well.

And -- that’s something Bucky will never quite be ready for. But where he wilts under the spotlight, Sam, Captain America , ahem, absolutely blooms. It’s during those mini reprises where the Captain comes alive, combining empathy and charm, producing a leader very few people have trouble standing behind. A beacon of what’s absolute best about this country while being whole enough to project a light on what still drastically needs to change.

And while the presence of more cameras than he can count and mics being shoved in every direction cause Bucky to withdraw - the front of the line was never his thing - that doesn’t mean he can’t appreciate the way Sam handles it; handles everything with a certain gravitas, a honey-sweet smile and enough charisma for none of the reporters to even mention that they leveled half the city and SHIELD’s surely getting footed for the cost of rebuilding downtown Paris.

So Bucky watches from the background and pushes certain feelings down, tries not to feel jealous of the way Sam’s smiling down at the reporter, making her laugh with one of his famous jokes and instead focuses on the job well done instead.

—

But here’s the thing: he and Sam work really fucking well as a team.

And it’s not his fault some creepy pap took his photo looking softly, proudly, at Sam — it’s just that if he can’t be proud of the work he’s done, of bringing some justice back to this cold world, then what can he be proud of then? And for the record, he totally wasn’t looking at Sam like that - Sam just unfortunately happened to be in his line of vision.

But it’s fine. It’s good.

Besides the one creep who uploaded the photo, Bucky’s sure no one else has noticed him going all heart-eyes and love-sick at Sam. So, he’ll just wait for the next Tok Tik dance (or is it the other way around?), the next Kardashian relationship, the next whatever — to make this “story” die down and then he can get back to what he does best: saving the world and pining after one Sam Wilson.

//

It’s the same scene as before - another successful mission, another press conference, Sam handling it with a false ease that anyone actually looking at him and not just listening could see a mile away. Because, as Bucky notes, Sam’s standing tall answering the multitude of questions thrown at him but he’s putting most of his weight on his left side - bruised rib, and his right arm is clasped tightly to his body - broken wrist.

The injuries are minor and not the first time some Hydra asshole’s roughed Sam up but this time it feels different and yet familiar all the same. It’s a weird sort of deja vu and Bucky can remember being on the outskirts while another Captain gave a similar speech. Can remember his disdain at seeing a good soldier, a better man turned into nothing more than a token of war. But he swallows those emotions, until it feels like they’re trying to crawl out of his throat. Swirling feelings about how long it’ll take for this

//

So bucky storms off, Sam chases him, Bucky’s yells and admits his feeling, sam shares them, see below!

—-

“Comfortable down there?”

“You can bet your sweet ass I am.”

A laugh rips through Sam, quickly replaced by a huff of breath as he strokes himself faster.

If you would’ve told Bucky a week ago that he would end up here - in Sam’s bed, tucked in the space between the younger man’s legs watching Sam pleasure himself, he would’ve laughed at you. And quickly punched you in the face for wasting his time.

But someway, somehow it happened, he’s here - metal arm crooked on the bed to support his frame, flesh palm splayed out on Sam’s thigh, fingers occasionally tracing lazy patterns into the soft skin. Bucky’s enthralled by the sight of trail of goosebumps left in it’s wake, and he can’t quite think of any place he’d rather be.

“I could use a hand here”, Sam ribs, a small smile playing at his lips, soft and sugar-sweet. “And no, that’s not a dig at you.”

It should be awkward, should be strange how easily they fell into this; not the quipping but everything else. How one day bucky happened to look up and Sam was there, a true North Star - bright and stationary. And while Bucky’s world tends to spin off its axis often, Sam is an unwavering presence in a wavering world, a tether to what’s real and true and Bucky wants to cling to him, hold him tight and never let him go.

Bucky scoffs; the arm jokes are stable ground, relentlessly teasing each other is stable ground, something familiar. This - the quiet intimacy of watching Sam pleasure himself, the vulnerability of Sam now entrusting Bucky to one day pleasure him too — just like this, is all new grounds. Quite fucking frankly, it’s a roller coaster of emotions, equal parts thrilling, equal part frightening. So Bucky resorts to what he and Sam do best, pausing for a second to steal an appreciative glance at the beautiful body in front of him before he teases, “Going soft on me birdy?”

Sam giggles — honest to god — giggles at the double entendre, cause there’s no way in hell he’s about to go soft right now, not when Bucky’s looking up at him, eyes trained on his, even when the focal point is what’s happening below his waist

“Just not used to doing this with an audience, Barnes”, Sam retorts once the giggling has subsided. “Also, feel free to join in whenever you want to, I’m just saying.”

“You’re the star here, baby”, Bucky coos.

At some point he’d shifted to closer to Sam, tucked himself even deeper in the space between Sam’s leg, his warm breath faint around Sam’s dick, raising new goosebumps on the skin. Let’s himself briefly soak up how right it feels, being here, being with Sam, in the narrow space that seemed to be carved for him. He’s anxious and trying to focus and yet … he knows without a shadow of a doubt that he’s in the right place at the right time.

“I just want to be apart of your show.”

[capmackie]

is this still on? 👀

[capmackie]

apparently this blog turned 3 today so i’m shitposting an unfinished sambucky story 😅

[capmackie]

is this still on? 👀

[lakay]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: The Falcon and the Winter Soldier (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: James “Bucky” Barnes/Sam Wilson Characters: Sam Wilson (Marvel), James “Bucky” Barnes Additional Tags: Explicit Sexual Content, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Anal Sex, Rimming, Light Dom/sub, like very light, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Coming Untouched Summary:

“Sweetheart, you listening to me?” Bucky asks, nipping at the skin of Sam’s reddened ass, and listen, Sam’s not usually into the whining cockslut role, too fuck-drunk to come up with solid words outside of please rail me into the goddamn mattress, but all he can do is moan and push back against Bucky’s mouth, arch his back in further, and try not to cry at the slow, teasing strokes of Bucky’s hand.

Bucky just knows how to fuck Sam the right way.

[lakay]

tag guide since i’m getting confused for my OWN tags tfaws - self explanatory tfaws spoilers - content i reblogged around the time the show

[capmackie]

REAL HOT GIRL SHIT 🥵 🐎 🔥

[marvelcomicsdaily]

sam and bucky in hawkeye: freefall

[tedllasso]

ANTHONY MACKIE by Nicholas Maggio for Rhapsody Magazine, 2014.

[capmackie]

request! sambucky adoption feat. yellow 🌼

[capmackie]

sambucky forbidden love prince/knight!au

requested by anon!

—

“i’m tired of hiding this...”

“i know buck”, sam says, scrubbing his face dejectedly.

one day, he’ll stand up for himself. stand up for his right to love whoever he wants to love, status be damned.

one day, he’ll crawl from under the iron fist his father uses to the rule the kingdom and sam’s love life all the same.

but for right now, sam just holds bucky tighter — desperate to convey just how much he loves the man beneath him without saying a word.

[capmackie]

turn the darkness to light

sambucky week, day 3: secret @sambuckyevents

In the middle of the night, slipping past gods, witches and a man who wears brilliance and anger in equal measures is a daunting task. One wrong move and Bucky could awaken one of them — all of them — and then the entire secret is blown.

But Bucky’s done this before; the trip to the opposite end of the expansive building’s a familiar dance — one step, two, twist to the right — and even in the dead of night, Bucky knows exactly how to reach Sam’s room without causing a disturbance.

Decades of operating in the shadows, years and years of residing in the darkness of his own mind has prepared the soldier for this — he’s at home in the dark, takes shelter in the finite nothingness.

Maybe it’s that familiarity that makes him wants to keep this thing he has with Sam a secret. It’s an easy task, they’ve been fooling around and hiding it for so long — falling into such an effortless banter with each other that it was no surprise when they fell into bed together too.

In the beginning, when it was “blowing off steam”, it was easy to justify why keeping the others in the dark made sense. If even he and Sam couldn’t quite quantify what they were, the rest of the team sure as hell wouldn’t be able to figure it out either.

(And if the very idea that even one of them could be just as skeptical as Bucky himself — that someone like Sam, an open book, a vessel for the sun itself to shine through, loving someone like Bucky, a man who’s spent literal lifetimes shrouded in the darkness —)

Bucky take a deep breath, centering himself before the self-depreciation goes any further.

Still, it’s bad enough he has to constantly convince himself he’s worthy of the love Sam wants to offer, it might actually kill him to try to convince someone else he’s deserving of it too.

But deep down, Bucky knows that isn’t the only reason he wants to keep his relationship tucked away, deep deep deep in his chest, far from inquiring minds and prying hands.

No, it’s something about the soft glances that Sam throws him when no one else is paying attention or the inside jokes they share, or just how positively giddy he gets at the idea that this is something that is just between them, untainted by the preconceived notions of others. It’s something about the possibility of taking a new step, together at that, creating their own destiny that makes Bucky feel more alive than he has in years.

”It’s okay to be a little selfish Buck”, Sam had murmured into his ear once, peppering kisses into the mottled skin of his shoulder. “There’s nothing wrong with wanting, nothing wrong with wanting something for your self.”

“It’s human nature.”

It’s human nature and it’s a step in the right direction and it’s Bucky first foray into true autonomy after so so long of being at the complete and total will of others and ...

Fuck that.

Bucky wants to love Sam loudly.

He wants the soft, shared glances and he wants the inside jokes and he wants the new experience of loving someone wholly and he wants the love that he feels for Sam, that threatens to burst out of the seams sometimes — yeah he wants that to be known.

He wants to bask in the light of Sam Wilson unashamedly; wants to kiss him in public, in private and he can’t remember in any of his lifetimes where he’s allowed himself to want something, especially as much as he wants now.

There’s a voice in the back of his head, Sam’s voice, reminding him it’s okay to be selfish and Bucky clings to that, forces himself to believe it.

His first act of selfishness in over seventy years is to allow himself to be loved.

To run into and not away from the arms of the man laying in the room before him, a path he’s knows by heart.

Because even in total darkness, Sam has always been a beacon of light guiding Bucky right where he needs to be.

And if the others find out, well that’s okay too. Bucky’s spent too long in the darkness, being someone’s secret, he deserves a chance at sunshine.

[capmackie]

one more! 💕

[capmackie]

keep me high in your blue sky

day five : soulmates @sambuckyevents

The first time, Sam’s convinced something is wrong with him.

Convinced that in some past life, or lives, he’s pissed off enough of the wrong people to have the world’s worst luck plague him in the here and now.

What else could explain how, after years and years of looking, a stint in the paramilitary — many broken-hearts — that he’s finally face to face with his soulmate and he can barely hear his name being called?

Some people go their entire lives without the joy of hearing their name spoken clearly. Without even hearing their name at all, but Sam was so sure he’d gotten lucky — that for once, karma was on his side — and technically, he did and it was but strangely, there’s a weird echo whenever Riley says his name.

He can hear Riley, knows Riley can hear him when he says the man’s name back but he also knows this isn’t how this soulmate thing is supposed to work. And as much as Sam wants to blame it on all of the times he’s bumped his head as a child or something and just be happy with what he has in front of him — and Lord knows Riley makes him happy, the happiest he’s ever been, he still knows.

“It’s indescribable Sam,” his mother once told him. “Like soaring above the clouds, feels like the sun is shining down on you and you only.”

He believed her because for one, his mother never lied, and two, he knows that her and his father were soulmates. Knew it by the way they looked at each other, the way they looked after each other, the way they heard each other loud and clear.

And as painful as realizing that Riley, no matter how much they love each other, isn’t his soulmate, it’s nowhere as painful as flying next to the man, watching him go down down down.

The echo of his own name lingers in Sam’s head as Riley plummets.

—

The second time around Sam’s convinced something’s truly wrong with him.

That there’s no way the universe detests him so much that it made him love flying only to reward him with watching his only love fall to the ground. That the same universe put him face to face again with another blonde-haired, blue eyed soulmate and it still isn’t right.

Steve is great, honorable and brave like Riley.

Headstrong and stupid as hell just like Riley too.

And when Steve says Sam’s name, Sam can hear it but it sounds faint, like wisps of smoke curling around his ear drum. But life can’t be that cruel can it? Can’t put someone else in his life that’s perfect for him, challenges him, makes him feel alive in a way he was certain he would never experience again, just to reveal that after he’s come so close to finding true love for the second time, it’s just another false alarm.

But apparently it can, cause he loses Steve too.

As the battle fades away and eventually, as Sam does too, he can hear Steve calling his name again.

But he can’t answer back, too busy flitting through the same sky that took his Riley away too.

—

The third time around, Sam is convinced that something is utterly and truly wrong with him.

He’s back in the sky again, relishes the way the wind whips past his face, the way the sound of the skies drowns out all of the other noises, until the only thing Sam can focus on is going higher and higher.

He flies and he flies, graceful despite the weight of the world he carries on his shoulders — threatening to break his stride and his spirit all the same. He flies and he flies until the ground is only a blur to him, just an expanse of blues and greens. Sam flies and flies until the guilt that he still gets to enjoy this, still gets to soar while Riley fell, takes the air out of him and he’s yearning for the solid feel of the ground beneath him again.

He’s landing, grounding himself in more ways than one, when he hears it, loud and clear.

“Sam?”

And it’s just his luck that Bucky, fucking Bucky of all people would be his soulmate.

Bucky, who’s Steve’s friend, and by extension, kinda his friend too. Bucky, who he’s fought wars over and fought wars with. Bucky, who’s lived more lifetimes than Sam will ever get to experience, cause even death can’t seem to hold Bucky down.

It’s Bucky, the solid presence in Sam’s life, sturdy and unwavering. Loyal past the end of the line. A good soldier and a better man and oh.

Along with the clarity in which Sam’s heard his name comes another kind of epiphany that threatens to knock Sam off his feet.

All of his life, he’s chased the thrill of flying, chased lovers that gave him that same sort of feeling.

Sam would have never guessed his soulmate would be so stable.

Bucky isn’t like Riley, he isn’t like Steve either — he’s cautious, forebearing in a way the blondes weren’t. Cautious and calculating and Sam realizes he never needed someone that would run head first into the fire, willing to lay it all on the line at a moment’s notice.

He needed someone with a survival instinct, someone who planned to make it back home at the end of a mission and did everything in their power to will it so.

Because Sam’s loved and he’s lost and then he did it all over again and it’s not nearly as poetic as Tennyson made it out to be.

He needs someone to stay for once.

“Bucky.”

And by the way the other man smiles at that, timid and exploring, hopeful all of the same, Sam knows that he’s found the one.

a/n: this was my first time with this trope, i hope i did it justice!

[capmackie]

shameless reblog cause this is my favorite thing i’ve ever wrote 💕

[capmackie]

anthony mackie + purple

[siancore]

I'm so sorry if someone has already asked this, but do you have any good Bottom!Sam sambucky fic recommendations? Thanks!

Anything by me, honestly. 

Anything by:

@glittercake

@capmackie

@justficsandstuff

[capmackie]

thank you Sian! 💕

[capmackie]

anthony mackie in a q&a about 'the banker' yesterday on apple+

credit: @badpostsmackie // twitter