#onlysambucky

[joshhcrtnett]

ill be honest i think the post credits scene isnt even remotely as bad as people make it out to be theres no sambucky divorce thats just a married couple having an argument and bucky sleeping on the couch for a week

[saryasy]

for @livingincolorsagain happy birthday, my love - insp

[margarethx]

I like that a big part of the Sambucky relationship is often just Sam giving Bucky full permission to be a little fucked up. Not in the sense that he recognizes his mental problems, but also because he sometimes just shrugs and allows Bucky's worst instincts to take over. (Which is mostly a fandom thing, but a small part of canon too, since Sam went with Bucky's plan to free Zemo with very little push-back, for example..)

It gave me the idea for a story where after Hydra everyone around Bucky wants him to move on from his traumas and heal, but Sam gives him the space to also be furious and unhinged about that. Like... all the other people would say: "what they did to you was awful, but the best revenge is to live a happy life <3". And Sam's like... "no, the best revenge is to wake them up with a gun to the temple in the middle of the night and to burn down their home, actually. here's a lighter, are you free this weekend, handsome?".

I don't mean to say that other people don't understand Bucky's anger, but they believe it'd be healthier for him to deal with the pain only by finding hobbies, adopting a pet, eating nice food etc. Whereas Sam offers all those things with an extra dose of pure vengeance. One night he takes Bucky out to a nice restaurant. The next night he stands aside as Bucky beats the shit out of some doctor, who experimented on him in 1989 and then helps him cover it up.

This dynamic would probably work better in a AU with no powers where they're regular people and where Bucky's been kidnapped or integrated into a cult that ruined his life. But it could apply to the canon too, in some ways.

I just like the the idea of all the well-meaning people in Bucky life trying to put as big of a distance between him and his abusers as possible... While Sam - who everyone sees as a rational almost-pacifist with a lot of empathy - helps his boyfriend hunt these abusers for sport.

[theskyisorange]

I'm writing a second part to this fic right. I'm kinda stuck on it but I do want to talk to someone about the concept of the Avengers (Sam Wilson's Avengers) being like the friend group who is the voice of reason after the break up? They're like, "Did he apologize? No? Then don't let him back in."

Because I keep seeing people go like "Joaquin would convince Sam to talk to Bucky and reconcile because he's tired of his parents in a divorce 🥺". And I just want to propose that maybe Joaquin, knowing that Sam would fold for Bucky's puppy eyes, would tell him that he should stand his ground. Which is a sentiment that I think would be supported by Shuri, yk cus Valentina and everything. If they truly are gonna get back together, there's like certain things for it to actually work.

I think it's more believable that your friends are gonna tell you to not get back with your ex who are now in cohorts w the guy who tried to kill you.

Okay, I'm rambling. But like I hope you get it??? I'm not the most eloquent person on earth unfortunately.

[firstelevens]

23 + sambucky 💛

23. wearing someone's clothes

In spite of his phone buzzing for the sixth time in the space of two minutes, Sam doesn't bother to check it. He's not slacking on the job: he's flanked by other superheroes, all of whom would also be getting notifications if something world-threatening were happening, and he's got AJ and Cass and Sarah in his immediate field of view.

The frenetic buzzing of six--wait, no, make that seven--text messages in no time at all can only be the work of one person, and that person is safely ensconced at the palace in Birnin Zana, undoubtedly being as much of a nuisance to his friends there as he is to Sam.

There's not much of a question as to what the text messages say, so Sam lets them roll in undisturbed, and makes sure that all of the cameras catch him emphatically not checking his phone. Instead he brings his attention to the students in front of him, crouching down to get a better look at the device that they built in their environmental science club.

He points to the receptacle at the top--it's a water filtration system--and asks the group how it works. They're very excited to answer, and when Sam asks specific questions about the mechanisms and how hard the process was, he watches them light up. He talks to them for so long that one of the PR people has to gently nudge him along to another group. Sam's phone periodically keeps buzzing away in his pocket, but he ignores it in favor of talking to all the students, doing his best to ask relevant questions and toss around jokes to make the shy ones laugh.

The event ends with plenty of pictures and plenty of questions about his own wings and how they work, and when it's all over, he feels the same pleasant exhaustion that he feels after a good workout or a mission where things went to plan. In the car on the way back to the house, all AJ and Cass can talk about is how cool all the Stark prototypes were, and Sam promises to let them mess around in his workshop tomorrow so they can do some inventing of their own.

It's not until he's back home that he remembers to even check his phone, putting it on the charger and laughing when the screen lights up to reveal thirty-two text messages from Bucky. The last one came in just a minute ago, so Sam flops down on the cozy armchair in the corner, Bucky's favorite place to curl up on nights when sleep is hard to come by, and calls him back.

The phone barely rings once before Bucky answers, skipping a greeting entirely so he can say, "You stole my sweater!"

Sam laughs. "Hi to you, too, baby."

There's a huff on the other end of the line. "Hi, sweetheart. I miss you, and also, you stole my sweater."

"Did I?" asks Sam. "How do you know that it didn't just find its way into my side of the dresser? You're not very careful about keeping our things separate, you know."

"Yeah, I do know," says Bucky. "That's why when I was packing for Wakanda, I asked you, 'Sam, love of my overlong life, man I would do anything for, have you seen my favorite green sweater?' And when you said no, I asked if you checked your side and you said that it wasn't in your sweater drawer, either."

That's because it was strategically placed in a laundry basket under half a dozen polo shirts that Bucky would never touch, Sam doesn't explain. "Sounds like it just got misplaced, and maybe someone shouldn't wait to pack for their trips until half an hour before they leave."

"Yeah?" asks Bucky. "Is that what it sounds like, and not like someone had their eye on my sweater and waited until I was distracted to snipe it and wear it to a public event where he knew I'd see him on TV?"

"Well that's just silly, Buck. Who would do that?"

"It's impossible to say," replies Bucky, making Sam laugh. Then, after a moment of quiet, he adds, "It looks good on you."

"Thank you," says Sam, and it shouldn't still make warmth rush to his cheeks when Bucky compliments him, but here he is. "Does that mean I get to keep it?"

Bucky snorts. "Let's not get carried away, Wilson."

"That's hardly getting carried away; we just established that I wear it better than you do."

"When did we establish that?" sputters Bucky.

"Are you saying it's not true?"

"Of course not," replies Bucky, without hesitation. "I saw how your arms looked in that thing; it's a fucking revelation. That's not the point."

"Ooh, I've never been called a revelation before," teases Sam.

He expects another grouchy reply, but instead, Bucky just says, "Yes, you have."

Sam actually stops and pulls his phone away from his face to make sure he's still connected. "What was that?"

"Nothing," says Bucky. "Tell me about this science thing that was so important you had to steal my sweater for it."

"Uh-uh," says Sam. "Nope. You tell me who's going around calling me a revelation."

"Sam."

"Bucky."

"You know who it was."

And yeah, Sam's good enough at putting together evidence to get to that conclusion, but he wants to hear it from Bucky all the same. "Tell me anyway?"

"All those times when you crashed into my life in all those different cities, you brought something with you. Do you remember that?"

As if Sam could ever forget. "My folks raised me never to show up empty handed, you know that."

It had been more than that, of course. He hadn't known how else to get Bucky to trust him, sure he was still struggling to trust himself most days. The whole point had been to make sure that Bucky was safe and whole, so the first time Sam managed to cross paths with him, he'd brought a loaf of bread and some strawberries from a roadside stall. Another time, it had been flowers, other times cups of coffee or books.

"Every time you showed up and forced me to take the thing you were giving me, I had to figure out how to be a person about it. I'd forgotten what it was to be annoyed or impatient or to want someone to stay even when you knew they couldn't."

Sam's breath catches in his throat a little, but Bucky doesn't stop.

"And then you would just talk at me for a couple minutes, and then you'd get your stuff and be on your way, and I'd have to find a safe place where I could face up to the fact that you knocked me on my ass with some wilted daisies that you bought for five euros. What else do you call someone who brings you a part of you that you thought you'd never see again?"

"What the fuck, Barnes?" breathes Sam, rasping a little because of the sudden lump in his throat.

"It's the truth!" says Bucky, suddenly defensive.

"Yeah, well, you couldn't have waited to share that truth until I could hear it in person? So I could kiss the shit out of you the way you deserve?"

"Oh," Bucky says quietly. "You know, I could--"

"Absolutely not. Whatever you're thinking, absolutely not. You just managed to earn the Wakandans' trust again; you're not stealing a talon fighter for a booty call."

"It wouldn't be a booty call, Samuel."

"It would a little bit be a booty call, and Ayo would never let you hear the end of it."

Bucky huffs again. "Fine," he grouses. "But I'm coming home as soon as the last repair is done on my arm."

"Good," says Sam. "That'll give me time to steal the rest of your sweaters."

"Sam," Bucky all but whines, and Sam laughs in response.

"Fine. I'll only take most of your sweaters, and maybe one of your hoodies. Just one."

"If I say no, you're just gonna steal more, aren't you?"

"Probably," says Sam, shrugging even though Bucky can't see him.

Bucky sighs. "Fine," he says. "We'll work out a trade when I get home."

"Well, hurry back," says Sam. "I'm kind of curious about your negotiating tactics."

There's a loud laugh from Bucky's end, and Sam can still hear his smile when he speaks. "Back home as soon as possible, sweetheart," says Bucky.

"Gonna hold you to that, baby," says Sam. Then, just as Bucky's about to hang up, he tacks on, "I'm stealing your maroon sweater next!"

When he ends the call, Bucky's only halfway through indignantly crying his name.

[crepuscularqueens]

here is my art for @sambuckyevents Reverse Bang!

incredibly grateful and honored to have been partnered with my amazingly talented and all around wonderful friend and mutual jo @sambambucky for this, who wrote the accompanying fic

past is prologue by sambambucky

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Tags: Old West AU, Outlaw AU, Alcohol, Reunions, Betrayal, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Grief/Mourning, Angst, Bucky Taking Care of Sam, Bathing/Washing, Cap Quartet, Flashbacks

Summary: Years after they rode with the notorious gang known as The Captains, Bucky and Sam reunite outside of a small town out west.

[livingincolorsagain]

It’s silly, Sam thinks.

He’s too old to be feeling butterflies fluttering around in his stomach when his crush looks at him; he’s too old to feel the growing warmth of his cheeks when his crush steps in too close.

Except, well. It’s not a crush, can’t be. It’s something much bigger, much deeper.

Bucky walks into the kitchen in the morning, hair ruffled and eyes heavy-lidded, voice deep and raspy as he says good morning, and Sam’s entire being warms at the sight of him, something vague that takes a more certain shape inside him with every look, grows and grows, until it’s all he feels, all he is.

And Sam thinks, again: it’s so silly, they’re both so old, but Bucky looks up at him as pours himself a cup of coffee, smiles softly, looks back at his cup, his cheeks reddening.

Then he leaves his cup where it is, steaming over the counter, and walks over to where Sam is, hip leaning against the sharp edge of the counter on the other side of the kitchen, right next to the window.

Bucky’s arms frame his waist, the sunlight making his eyes that much more blue and bright.

Sam takes another sip from his coffee, hides a smile as Bucky leans in closer and closer, until Sam has no choice but to place the cup down.

“Good morning,” he finally replies, sneaking his hand up to push Bucky’s hair away from his face, runs gentle fingers through it, smiles when Bucky leans into the touch, eyes falling shut.

Mornings like this are new and precious, this whole thing is new and precious. It’s something Sam never thought of having, not after everything, but here he is, running his fingers through soft hair, letting Bucky’s body warmth surround him, seep into him.

Bucky steps in even closer, until their chests are practically touching, and he tilts his head down, lips hovering over Sam’s.

Sam closes his eyes, smells the mint of their shared toothpaste, and leans in to close the gap between them for a small, gentle peck, as his hand falls to the nape of Bucky’s neck.

Bucky exhales loudly, presses even closer, deepening the kiss as his hands take hold of Sam’s waist.

And Sam’s heart flutters, again and again, as he wraps his arms around Bucky, because maybe he’s not too old to feel like this, maybe neither of them are.

Bucky hums as he pulls away, and Sam chases his lips just a little; except, he holds Sam in place, presses quick kisses to Sam’s nose, cheek, forehead, before he steps out of his arms, a smile on his face, a little cocky, as he goes to grab his coffee and plops himself down on a chair.

Sam gives him a flat look. “Just for that,” he says, “you’re making breakfast.”

Bucky smiles brightly, as if this was his plan all along, and also that this is not the punishment Sam thinks it is.

Sam rolls his eyes, takes a seat as Bucky gets right back to his feet and goes to the fridge, begins taking out ingredients.

Sam watches, gives instructions every now and then that Bucky mostly ignores, his coffee cooling down and his smile hurting his cheeks.

[alivedean]

THE FALCON AND THE WINTER SOLDIER that lives in my head → 44/?