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sarifinasnightmare · 5 months

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The Whoopsie

Rating: For Everyone

Pairing: Sarah/Bucky

Summary: Bucky is recovering from a whoopsie. The Wilsons behave accordingly.

Prompt: Found Family

Author's Note: It's a day late, but I hope that's okay. 😁

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“Sam, what did I tell you??”

“Sarah, this wasn’t my fault!”

“Like hell this isn’t your fault! You’re the one who took him from our family dinner table to investigate that factory just because your Falcon senses were tingling!”

“Falcon senses?” *snort* “Ow, that actually hurt.”

“Don’t move too much James. My poor guy.”

“James?? When did he become James??”

“Uh…recently?”

“Recently??”

“Yes, recently! You might as well know; Sam. James and I are official.”

“Aha! I knew you moving down and having dinner at the house wasn’t just you being protective! What did I tell you about dating my sister??”

“I-”

“I am grown, Sam! He is also grown! If we want to date each other then there’s nothing you can do to stop us!”

“I got a Vibranium shield and a Wakandan suit that has allowed me to do a shitload of things and that could include cutting a geriatric super soldier into tiny pieces when he least expects it!”

“I’m kind of already hurting soo…..”

“Samuel Thomas Wilson don’t you dare raise my man’s blood pressure! I want him alive!”

“Listen Sarah Eunice Wilson, he was my friend first, so I get to decide whether he lives long enough to be dating my little sister!!”

“Are you guys fighting over me?”

“Shut up, man, don’t make it weird.”

“I’m not some Southern belle that needs to be protected from gentleman callers! I am a woman and I have needs!”

“Gah! I don’t want to know about that!”

“Then stay out my business and let me take care of my man! And stop hauling him out on your crazy adventures. That’s what Joaquin is for!”

“Joaquin is still green, and I know Bucky could handle himself. It’s not my fault he caught the grenade and threw it too late.”

“Baby, a grenade?? Are you trying to break my heart?”

“No, babe, I swear I tried to move fast…”

“James if anything had happened-”

“Shhh, it won’t. I’ll be good, I’ll be so good for you.”

“….”

“…”

“Are you two really going to make me sit here and watch you kiss each other??”

“There’s the door. No one’s stopping you.”

“I ain’t leaving my partner while he’s recovering. I stayed for Steve, and I’ll stay for Bucky.”

“Thanks, man.”

“You’re welcome. I’m still kicking your ass though.”

“No, you’re not. Once James is allowed to leave, he’s coming home where I’m going to make sure he gets all the TLC he needs.”

“Aw babe, you don’t have to.”

“Hush and be spoiled, James.”

“Yes Ma’am.”

“Hey, how come I never got any TLC when I get hurt?”

“When was the last time you got hurt?”

“Uh…”

“Exactly!”

“I got some cuts and bruises here!”

“Nothing some painkillers and Merthiolate can’t fix.”

“Nope! Get that shit away from my cuts!”

“Chicken.”

“Like to see you handle it!”

“Look at these hands. Does it look like I can’t handle a nick or two?”

“Yeah, yeah. Not like I don’t have my own. You gave me a few when we were kids.”

“That’s what you get for picking on me.”

*snort* “Ow…you need to stop making me laugh.”

“You hungry, baby?”

“I don’t think I can handle anything heavy right now.”

“Sam go ask if they have any soup.”

“Fine, you want anything?”

“No, just want my man home.”

“Home with you sounds good right now.”

“Ya’ll behave. I’ll be right back.”

“He’s protective of you.”

“He’s protective of you too.”

“We’re both soldiers. We don’t leave our own behind.”

“It’s more than that, James. You’re important to us Wilsons and we protect our kin.”

“I’m family?”

“Damn right.”

“I like that. I like that a whole lot.”

“Good, now rest and let that super soldier shit do its thing so we can get you home faster.”

“You got it….Eunice.”

“Boy don’t start with me.”

*snort* “Ow, your middle name is Eunice.”

“I didn’t ask to be named after a great aunt. Now shut up before I get on your name Buchanan.”

The End

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fleurdelouve · 7 months

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Since we had about 83% people vote that they wanted another annual event, and about 16% people said they did not, this question of the week goes out to those who DO want to have and participate in an annual event:

For 2023 what would you like this year's event to be focused on?

2021 was prompt-focused on mostly seasonal and holiday-based prompts

2022 was a gift exchange (which didn't go well, unfortunately)

Another prompt based event, or not? Do you want to do something new, such as a bingo? Also, share the topics you would like to work with! 💛

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rebelmeg · 5 months

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For @fleurdelouve's Sarah/Bucky Month, and obviously for the Day 19 prompt, Mermaid/Pirates AU!

It popped into my head immediately, gorgeous mermaid Sarah and rugged pirate Bucky, though now that I think about it, the opposite premise would be fantastic too! Sarah even already has a boat, and Bucky would make a wonderful merman. The image of the two people in the water made me think of Sarah and Sam, though, so that really sold me on mermaid Sarah! Just imagine her telling her brother all about this super cute human she can't stop watching, and Bucky telling his first mate Steve that he swears he keeps seeing a beautiful woman in the water around the ship. *Happy sigh*

I played around a lot with some image editing, but I'm really just not good at it. I snuck one of the mermaid Sarah's into the top moodboard, but it's just not my gift. I did print some images off, though, so I might play with making a papercraft collage at some point. Might try a couple more image editing things too, I had several lines from "Part of Your World" stuck in my head and a couple pics of Adepero that are so fantastic.

#rebelmeg's stuff #fleurdelouve month #sarah/bucky #bucky/sarah #omg i just thought about the boys #sarah's two bitty merbabies playing with their uncle sam #mermaid #pirate #moodboards #sarah wilson #bucky barnes #faws #mcu tv

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samwpmarleau · 5 months

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fic snippet: as foam upon the sea

meant for @fleurdelouvemonth but regrettably i don’t expect that the full fic will be done within the next two days and i’m already over a week behind the mermaid au prompt day this was supposed to be for (although elements of it apply to the days this week heyo), so i’m posting a piece from the middle of it to show that i participated. i haven’t written for either of these characters before so i really hope this isn’t trash, and if you notice logistical or geographical tomfoolery no you don’t

So abruptly she nearly knocks her head into his, Barnes stops. He searches the horizon — for what, she doesn’t know — his eyes narrowing beneath a growing frown. She treads water beside him, attempting to sense what he apparently does, but all she sees is what she doesn’t see. Just gently rippling blackness meeting an equally black sky broken up only by the pinpricks of starlight and the crescent moon high above.

“What is it?” she whispers.

He had said his arm could sense electro-whatever; maybe that’s happening now, maybe there’s a shark headed their way or something. Though, she doesn’t think Barnes would be quite so on edge if it were as mundane a thing as a shark. And that’s assuming a shark would even bother with them when it could have a much easier time finding different prey.

“I don’t know,” he murmurs. With a quiet shink, he withdraws a knife and hands it to her, then reaches for the boltgun strapped across his back.

She has about a dozen questions, but the tension and alertness rolling off him in waves keeps her from voicing any of them. She nervously adjusts and readjusts her grip on the knife, thoroughly unused to wielding such a utensil for any purpose besides cutting nets, cooking, or opening boxes.

Out of nowhere, Barnes snaps his head towards a specific point, no longer having a vague sense of danger. He shoves her roughly behind him, but not soon enough, and Sarah cries out as she feels a searing pain in her side. There’s still nothing above water that she can see; the shot had come from somewhere beneath. She feels another projectile whiz by, but it ricochets off Barnes’s metal arm before it can reach her. Which is where her perception of anything beneath her stops, for Barnes ducks beneath the water. There is nowhere nearby to retreat to, not even a piece of driftwood to use as a meager defense. All Sarah can do is float where she is, not draw further attention to herself, and try not to think about how much she’s bleeding from whatever laceration had been made.

She can’t tell whether it’s a minute or an hour that passes without a single indication of Barnes returning, which brings an entirely new fear to mind: whether he will return, and what it would mean for her if he doesn’t. If he’s been shot, if he’s been killed, if he’s been captured, at best she’ll be stranded in the middle of the ocean with an inventory of a single knife. Worse, HYDRA — and it must be them, of that she has no doubt — will kill her, too.

“You’re gonna be fine,” she tells herself, as if saying it aloud will make it true. “Everything is gonna be fine. This is just your typical aquatic assassination attempt, no problem.”

While it doesn’t lessen her pessimism much, it does at least help keep her focused on something other than sheer fear. She knows all too well how paralyzing fear can be, and that is the last thing she needs right now.

Shutting her eyes, she starts to hum a lullaby Titi used to sing. She can’t remember the words anymore, but she remembers the tune.

She gets a few verses in when she jerks back with a shriek, brandishing her knife at the movement she feels by her feet.

“Watch it!” hisses the movement, whose voice she identifies as Barnes. Wisely, he plucks the knife from her hand and returns it to its sheath.

“What happened?” she asks, hit with a waterfall of relief. She wishes she could see more than vague silhouettes. “That was HYDRA?”

“Yeah,” Barnes says, “They must’ve used some kind of heat signature tracking. Or maybe they caught sight of me back at the beach and dispatched divers to the area they thought I’d go. I don’t think they know exactly where, or they’d have sent more than a few guys armed with spearguns.”

That had to have been what she was grazed with, then, a speargun arrow. She can’t say she’s ever had that before, though she knows it happens back home every now and then, usually to stupid kids not paying attention to what they’re doing.

Of course, she’s fairly certain none of those stupid kids were shot by HYDRA spearguns. She gets the dubious honor of being the first.

“So what now? Are there going to be more where they came from? Do they have beacons or something they could’ve activated?”

“Likely,” Barnes says. He refastens her rope to himself. “We have to go. Once HYDRA notices their divers aren’t moving from this spot, they’ll come. With reinforcements.”

Great.

“So how are we supposed to get out of here?”

“I’ll have to dive.”

“Not all of us can hold their breath for as long as you can. How do you expect me to —”

“I don’t have time to explain.”

“Explain what?”

Barnes answers by cupping her face in his hands and kissing her full on the mouth. Before she can ask him what the hell he thinks he’s doing or push him off her, she feels an odd, though not unpleasant, tingling in her lips. A warm burn slides its way into her lungs, as though she’s taken a swig from high-shelf whiskey.

The burn lingers as Barnes drags her beneath the surface of the water. Only then does he pull away, leaving her to panic at the sensation of having no air left in her lungs. That is, until she realizes that she doesn’t need to breathe. As Barnes swims away, the rope connecting them keeping her at pace, Sarah does her best to get her bearings.

Regrettably, for all that she seems to have temporarily acquired Barnes’s breathing ability, that hasn’t affected her eyesight or cognitive processing — she can make out some shapes, but for the most part everything they pass is a complete blur.

Once she gets over the novelty of the breathing part, the unnerving part of being along for the ride settles in. She hadn’t thought much about mermaid locomotion, but if she had, she doesn’t think she’d have banked on them being able to swim this fast. Not that she has a speedometer, but she’s sat seatbelt-less in the bed of a truck barreling down the freeway plenty of times, and this feels much the same. Only more wet. Needless to say, she grips the harness like her life depends on it — which, really, it does.

She also wishes that that kiss — or whatever it was — from Barnes helped with temperature as well, for while it doesn’t seem like they’re going deeper anymore, she’s fucking cold. Solely the fear of being tracked by an evil organization keeps her from tapping Barnes on the shoulder and asking if they could possibly swim a few dozen meters higher.

She puts up with it, knowing the alternative is tempting lethal fate. After a while, she nearly manages to fall asleep, such is her adrenaline crash and the steady fluidity of Barnes’s movements. She’s groggy when finally they stop, some sort of partially enclosed outcrop whose features she can just make out in the burgeoning sunrise. Barnes sets her on the rock and triple-checks both the entrance and surroundings.

Unfortunately, she discovers, the end feels much like the beginning, complete with the sensation of having no air even though now there is plenty of it. Is it possible to suffocate when there’s air to be had? Did Barnes merely delay her death sentence?

Apparently hearing her distress, he approaches with mild concern in his expression amongst the usual cagey neutrality, but his voice is calm as he instructs, “Force it. The air, you have to force it.”

The thought feels impossible. “I — can’t —”

“You can.” He places his hands lightly on her shoulders. “Breathe, Sarah.”

It’s the first time he’s said her name, she realizes, which all by itself is nearly enough to startle her out of her predicament. The touching takes care of the rest; up until now, their only contact has been of necessity, not comfort or even friendliness.

It’s a shaky breath that she draws into her lungs but a breath nonetheless, and once she’s done it, she gulps down as much as she possibly can. The pain in her chest slowly dissipates.

“Are you okay?” Barnes asks.

“Yeah I — I think so. Did you know it was that awful to come out of it?”

“No. I’ve never been around for that part.”

Now that she no longer is suffocating and they’re out of imminent danger, she wonders about the mechanics of the whole thing. “How’d you do it?”

“Something to do with the regenerative properties of the serum, it slows hypoxia. That’s what I was told, anyway.”

“Then why did it feel like I couldn’t breathe?”

“Because,” he says, “if you hold it too long, your body wants to keep the air it has left. It doesn’t realize it doesn’t have to until you force it.”

“That was too long?” she asks. “How long did we swim?”

“Bit over two hours, I think.”

“Two —”

He’d told her he could dive for an hour and a half, two hours maybe. And while with his enhanced strength she must not weigh much, she still weighs something. She takes stock of him, seeing only now that he looks exhausted, his own breath coming in heavier than normal. Never mind the exertion from fighting the combatants and what looks like a nasty gash over his eye dripping blood down the side of his face. He doesn’t appear bothered by it, but she’s been around him enough by this point to know he’s not the kind of person to admit to injury. Who knows what else he might’ve sustained?

Ultimately, she supposes the specifics of it all don’t matter and, frankly, she doesn’t have the patience for any more of a science lesson at the moment. Barnes himself may not even know the full scope. Really, she should celebrate the fact that he’s spoken more to her in the last two minutes than he has the last few days combined.

“So, how’d you figure it out, this breath-sharing thing?” she asks instead. “Got a history of saving damsels in distress, do you?”

She’d meant it as a joke, but a shadow passes over Barnes’s face. “No.”

“Then how —”

“Let me see where you were hit,” he interrupts. “You’re bleeding pretty badly.”

She looks down to see a wide bloom of red is indeed staining her shirt. The pain has become more of a throbbing nuisance than the acute sharpness it was before, though she’s not sure whether that’s a good or bad thing.

Sarah lifts up the hem of her shirt, and immediately wishes she hadn’t. It looks much worse than she thought it would. It still counts as a graze, she’d say, in the grand scheme of things, but an inch further and she’d have a hole straight through her abdomen.

“Seawater is healing,” she says with feeble confidence. It is, but she’s fairly certain this is too big of a wound for that to apply to.

“Stay here,” Barnes directs. “I’ll be back soon.”

He’s gone before she can ask where he’s going, disappearing under the water as quietly as always. She lets out a sigh. One of these days she’s going to make him give her an explanation before darting off.

#the full fic is approaching 20K so there's that #my google search history is very very strange let me tell you #spoiler alert: she does get to call him bucky eventually #she's just currently in the 'we haven't yet had a Moment after which i tell you my Designated Friend nickname' category atm #sarah wilson #bucky barnes #sarahbucky #buckysarah #fleurdelouve month #marvel fic #(no idea if that's even the tag)#my fic #bucky x sarah

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philtstone · 2 years

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Would LOVE sarahbucky with touching 47 elbow touch if you feel so led :)

technically part of this verse. also, veeery technically could pass for the "secret relationship" prompt for sarahbucky month

Bucky is toting an over-laden armful of fold out chairs towards the back door of the Delacroix community center’s kitchen when he overhears Sarah and John Bartlet in the heat of friendly-exasperated conversation.

“What about that fella Big Nate knew at the post office?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Oh well now come on, Sarah. He’s a handsome guy, he’s got all sorts of looks. Marly said he’s got all sorts of women after him too.”

“He looks like a spooked gazelle every time Anette brings baby Nina ‘round. You forgot about my kids, John?”

Bucky's never officially met John Bartlet before, but he's one of those people in this town that seem to have known the Wilsons since grade school -- homegrown history, respected community institution, that sort of thing. John's a doctor, of medicine, which most everyone knows and more respect, as he is the good sort to boot. His wife Marlene teaches piano lessons to anyone interested and runs the foodbank.

Delacroix's a funny sort of place like that. There's a sense of knowing that goes back for families and families, like the town is more the handful of people keeping it going than anything else -- but, also, it has been through so much in the last two decades that it's a an ad hoc patchwork, its folks entirely new. Between Katrina and the Blip, half the population here has appeared, disappeared, and reappeared, and still, through all of that, people think they know all of each other's business.

Well. Usually, they do. But Sarah declared last month that if Sam and Ms. Gloria and the neighborhood kids had to know they were sleepin' together, fine, only that was where she drew the line. Everyone else would have to figure it all out on their lonesome.

Bucky pauses against the brick of the kitchen parking lot entrance and bites his lip, shoulder primed against the doorjamb, unsure of where the conversation is going.

“Alright," John is saying, "alright, well, we can think of someone else –”

“I told you," says Sarah. "I am not interested in dating right now.”

Bucky supposes this is accurate; she’s interested in the easy normalcy of the Wilsons’ new morning breakfast routine, and figuring out how to give him brain-melting massages, and developing all sorts of habits that involve perching herself in Bucky’s lap when there’s a shortage of chairs in the backyard porch.

Which is pretty much always.

Still – Sarah is brilliant and competent and beautiful. He’s been vaguely aware of the fact that she’s definitely one of the community’s more eligible single women since maybe the second day he knew her.

“It’s been years, honey. You gotta get out there again.”

“I do not,” Sarah says, with such a prim tone and inflection that, in spite of himself, Bucky bites back a snort. “I am fine where I am.”

“Well now, don’t have to be so defensive,” John says, warm-toned. “No shame in wanting a man, and Sarah, we’ve known each other years. I know you do.”

“It’s – I’m – you know, things are different,” Sarah says.

Bucky shifts the chairs in his arms and presses the toe of his boot into the ground. She and her brother are the same in this -- utterly shit at pretending to be anything they’re not.

Still ...

“I know – I know, I got one for you. You know Lakeith is back in Delacroix?”

“Lakeith?” comes Sarah’s voice. “Lakeith Johnson? From middle school?”

“He’s in business now! Pretty well off, last I heard.”

“John, you are embarrassing me again."

"I'm not -- I am trying my best here! Miss Cathy, thank goodness." A second set of footsteps sounds against the center's waxed laminate. They are distinctly slippered and nearly as old as Bucky is. "You'd know better than anyone. Don't you think our Sarah here could do with a new man?"

"John --" Sarah groans.

"Man?" comes Miss Cathy Jay's reedy, high-pitched voice. "Whadd'ya mean, man?"

"I mean, for Sarah. You know any handsome widowers comin' through town?"

"She don't need a man," Miss Cathy says.

"Thank you --"

"She got one."

"What?"

"What-what," says Miss Cathy. "She livin' in sin with that young man in her house. Sam's boy."

Bucky’s forehead drops down against the cool metal of the fold-out chairs. He thinks he’s groaning. Is he groaning? Or maybe that’s a laugh. He can practically hear John’s stunned silence.

"Oh, Lord," Sarah says.

Bucky supposes that this is as good a time to enter the building as any, so he does.

"Well don't look so flustered," Miss Cathy is saying. "I said it as a fact, not a judgement. Pull it together, Sarah Bernadette, you’re grown.” Which is surely because Sarah has seen Bucky materialize, chair-laden – choked on her laugh – correctly assumed he heard the whole thing – and buried her face in both hands. In contrast, Miss Cathy’s wrinkled face lights up when she spots him. “Now here he is, too -- you got my chairs, honey? I hope your ears ain’t burnin’."

Bucky clears his throat. He sidesteps around John, who is by the mini-fridge in his slacks and shirt, shaking his mystified head, and Miss Cathy, who has taken it upon herself to start searching the donation boxes on the table for paper plates -- presumably he will be asked to carry these as well -- and makes his way around the kitchenette. Sarah is standing closest to the kitchen exit, by her trusty crock pot. He squeezes himself in beside her. Their elbows bump. Bucky pokes his head around his stack of chairs and says, warm-faced,

"I got your chairs Miss C. You want 'em here or out front?"

"You're plenty strong, you can take 'em out front," Miss Cathy tells him. She turns back to John. "I don't remember you bein' this strong when you were young, John."

Sarah cracks.

She lets out the world’s most endearing yelp before she dissolves into hooting laughter, half sinking down against the old cabinets with her arms wrapped around herself. Meanwhile, John opens and closes his mouth a few times, spluttering. Bucky thinks he looks a little like a computer's buffering screen. That’s an expression people use ... right?

“Oh, I’m sorry, John,” Sarah is saying, “I should’ve told you.”

But she looks more contrite than truly embarrassed.

Something small and unnoticed in Bucky’s chest, that is still not entirely convinced he hasn’t stumbled headlong into an elaborate dream, loosens.

He stands there with his chairs and stares, grinning down at her, like an idiot. Sarah looks back at him, gasping.

"Hi, Sar," Bucky says. “Uh, hey, Dr. Bartlet.”

"Hey, sweetness," says Sarah. Her eyes are sparkling.

Miss Cathy crows, loudly, into the hubbub:

“This ain’t news! We got a picnic to run! Now hurry on along wi’ my chairs!”

Bucky does, cheeks aching with his grin.

#my writing #PHEW this got longer than i meant it to #hopefully you like it!#thank you SO MUCH for the prompt!#friends ... romans etc pls feel free to send me more #sarah wilson #bucky barnes #sarah x bucky #fleurdelouve #the falcon and the winder soldier #i found a dream #fleur de louve month

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justsomeoneunordinary · 2 years

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The Wailing Winter Soldier

Week Two of the SarahBucky Month @fleurdelouvemonth/@fleurdelouve

Day three: Fantasy: Haunted House

(W1,D1 / W1,D2 / W2,D1 / W2,D4 / W2,D5 / W3,D2 / W3,D4 / W4,D3 / W4,D5 / W5,D1 / W5,D2 / W5,D4)

G, 520 words, Fantasy AU, Ghosts, Curses, Ambiguous/Open Ending | AO3

As far as Sarah can remember, the screaming had always been there. Those whines of desperation, the cries of agony.

It’s being said that it’s been going on for centuries like this. A house, deep down in the woods, haunted by an evil spirit. The howling would get worse around days of winter, and whenever she’d get closer to the forest, she could feel the heartbreaking misery of those cries. The townspeople call it the wails of the Winter Soldier.

Sarah had never seen the house herself. Never been allowed to approach the deepest parts of the woods, where the ominous omnipresent mist would greet her. Her parents used to say that certain death awaited her there. Sam though, her brother, he had been at the house—multiple times even. He never told her, but she knows.

It took her a while to notice that every now and then Sam would pack some food in a lunchbox and disappear for hours. Hours, during which the faint cries would find a sudden stop. Sam must’ve gotten to the same conclusion she has: nothing capable of such anguish screaming could be of evil nature. These are painful cries of someone suffering and in need of help.

But whenever she asks, Sam evades the question, and Sarah has had enough of it. She is no innocent child anymore in need of protection—it’s been over thirty years and she’s a grown woman capable of making her own decisions. So, on a cold November morning, she packs a lunchbox and heads out.

It’s a reckless action, she’s aware. She’s got two boys waiting for her to come back home, and no husband anymore who could take care of them should something happen. But Sarah is no fool—she wouldn’t do it if she wasn’t positive she’d come back safe and sound. Sam is a fighter, and Sam never looks like he’s been in a fight when he comes back from his trips to the house.

For the first time, Sarah steps foot into the deep ends of the woods and lets the mysterious mist engulf her. With every step she takes, the screaming gets louder, almost bone-crushing, causing shivers to run down her spine and having her hurting more and more for this poor pained soul.

Eventually, she reaches her destination and dares to enter the abandoned house with thrill and a healthy dose of fear pumping through her blood. When she finally gets to the attic, where the cries seem to be coming from, she learns three things right then and there, and none of them are what she expected:

For one, the Wailing Winter Soldier is no ghost or evil spirit. It’s a man. A man, bound to the house for eternal torture, cursed by no one else but the Clan of HYDRA.

For another, it’s not the man who’s screaming, but the house itself—expressing what the man is repressing.

Lastly, the man’s name is Bucky. And Bucky has the bluest eyes and kindest smile Sarah has ever seen, making her heart beat faster as if she was again a teen.

#may's moodboards #may writes #what happens next? do they break the curse? if so then how?#the answer is: lol i have no fucking clue which is why i'm leaving this on a cliffhanger-ish note and the ending up to you 💖#i also just realized this is more of a fairy tale than the drabble i wrote for the fairy tale prompt lmao i always do smth wrong help #not sure if i should up the rating bc of the board? i don't find the images scary at all but i am also totally desensitised for anything-#-scary anyway #and also i work with kids and not a single brat i ever had would be scared at any of those images so i think i'm fine with the g rating #is it obvious that i had lots of fun with this board? cause damn did i have fun doing this one #bucky tho is in such a small spot lol poor lad i'm so sorry #but this was the best layout for the images and he best fit in that spot sooooo #i should probably stop rambling before using the important tags shouldn't i?#but then again all my posts always appear in the tags no matter how much i ramble soooooo #anyway #sarahbucky #buckysarah #sarah wilson #bucky barnes #fleurdelouvemonth

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spinachgarden · 2 years

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my friends I am here with a very late Fleur de Louve month post

Week 3, Day 4: Secret Relationship

Prompt: “you’re not that scary” - 673 words

They never really meant to keep it a secret from Sam, to be fair. At the beginning they didn’t tell him because it was new, and they weren’t sure where it was going, and then it just… kept going until it reached the point that telling him would certainly be awkward.

It’s been eight months. Half of Sarah’s clothes are at Bucky’s apartment in New Orleans, half of his are in her closet in Delacroix. AJ and Cass know, and have been sworn to secrecy, bribed with regular ice-cream outings. Carlos’ silence was bought in exchange for three hours of Bucky’s time hauling junk to the scrapyard - which Bucky suspects was mostly so Carlos could test the limits of how much he can lift without assistance rather than a genuine need for help with the scrap metal.

But Sam doesn’t know, and when he finds out, he’s going to lose his shit. Not necessarily about them dating, although he constantly chastises Bucky for flirting with his sister, but more so about them keeping it a secret for so long, under his nose. It’s not like Sam isn’t around - even when he’s not in Delacroix, he’s on missions with Bucky, which means they have precious little time apart.

Although to be fair, Sarah’s “book club” that meets on Wednesday nights is actually an excuse for her to come to Bucky’s apartment every week for some alone time while Sam watches the kids. He should probably feel bad about the lies, but it’s kind of funny. “Book club” has become a strange slang for sex at this point, and Bucky finds an unreasonable amount of amusement in talking about it right in front of Sam while he’s none the wiser. To be fair, Sarah finds it just as hilarious.

It all goes spectacularly well like that - they’ve got it down to a science, and there’s a secret thrill in staying hidden, stealing kisses whenever the moment arises without anyone knowing. He feels young again, blissfully so, and each private smile from Sarah makes his heart soar.

She’s a goddess - too good for him, surely, but she’s chosen him anyway. He doesn’t take that kind of trust lightly. The fact that she trusts him to be in her home, around her children, is a beautiful thing. To be fair, it says a lot more about her than it does about him - her willingness to love after experiencing loss, her innate goodness.

There is a part of him that wants to tell Sam - he loves Sarah, loves what they have, but Sam is his best friend. Not that he’s ever said those words to Sam, of course - it’d go to his head and he’d never live it down - but there’s an understanding there, a brotherhood that goes beyond fighting together, beyond the fact that he’s dating Sarah.

He brings it up one night after “book club”.

“Do you want to tell Sam about us?” he asks.

“Yes,” she says immediately. “Yes, I do. This is fun, what we have, but I want to be able to have you all the time. No more hiding.”

He breathes a sigh of relief. “Me too,” he says. “He’s probably not going to take it well at first.”

“That’s alright,” Sarah says. “Because it’s not about him. It’s about us, and I love you. That’s what matters.”

She’s right, of course. Sarah usually is. “I know,” he says. “And I think he’ll be happy for us.”

They both know he will be, in time. At this point it’s just the thought of admitting they’ve lied to him for so long that’s nerve wracking.

“I think,” she says, “we should go another round and then think about it some more.”

Well, he can’t argue with that logic.

@fleurdelouvemonth @fleurdelouve

#sarahbucky #fleur de louve month #SarahBucky month #fleur de louve #Sarah Wilson #bucky barnes

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fleurdelouvemonth · 4 months

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And thus, we bring to an official close the third Fleur De Louve Month 2023! Thank you so much to all the authors and artists and creators who took part in or read or reblogged all the amazing content that was created! This list will represent our final master list.

But wait! I hear you ask: what do we do with all the love we have left behind?

Fear not! Any additional works or recs related to this month can still be submitted and we will be happy to reblog it and update the master list to include them.

The admins thoroughly enjoyed interacting with everyone and appreciate you all for helping this ship grow! Please stay tuned for what comes next and, always, keep creating for the good ship Fleur De Louve!

𝑾𝑬𝑬𝑲 𝑶𝑵𝑬: 𝑭𝒐𝒐𝒅 𝑷𝒓𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒕𝒔

Week One Masterlist

𝑾𝑬𝑬𝑲 𝑻𝑾𝑶: 𝑫𝒊𝒂𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒖𝒆 𝑷𝒓𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒕𝒔

Week Two Masterlist

𝑾𝑬𝑬𝑲 𝑻𝑯𝑹𝑬𝑬: 𝑨𝑼 𝑷𝒓𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒕𝒔

Week Three Masterlist

𝑾𝑬𝑬𝑲 𝑭𝑶𝑼𝑹: 𝑺𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒂𝒍 𝑷𝒓𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒕𝒔

Week Four Masterlist

𝑾𝑬𝑬𝑲 𝑭𝑰𝑽𝑬: 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔 𝑷𝒓𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒕𝒔

Week Five Masterlist

Thank you again for all of the amazing content you created to make this event possible!

Feel free to bookmark this post and come back to enjoy Fleur De Louve month again and again in the new year.

(Divider credits go to @firefly-graphics)

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tllgrrl · 6 months

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Sweet Potato Pie by @tllgrrl aka Nefertiri Jones

SarahBucky Fleur De Louve Month 2023 - Week 1, Day 2 Prompt: “Sweet Potato Pie” | SFW

Sarah Wilson/Bucky Barnes, and Special Guest Cameo: Sam Wilson

* * * * * * * * * *

It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

Sarah’s boys were already at the grandparents in Atlanta, and the original plan was that Sam would be in NYC with Misty, the restaurant would be closed until Friday, and Bucky would be home with her for a nice, quiet (maybe not so quiet) Wednesday, then the two of them would make a Thanksgiving Day drive to Atlanta to stay until Sunday, when the boys would come back with them to Delacroix.

That was the plan.

Then came the phone call, and there she was hearing about how some shit had popped off on the other side of the world in a place that she wasn’t privy to know for her own safety, and in the blink of an eye she was on the front porch, kissing Bucky goodbye before dawn…again.

“I’m sorry, nandi,” he said softly, his forehead touching hers.

“I know, baby. It is what it is,” she answered, pulling his dog tags over her head and onto his neck. “Just come back to me in one piece.”

“I will.”

“You better.”

“Save me some Sweet Potato Pie,” he says over his shoulder, walking toward the van.

“Me too!” someone yelled from the passenger seat.

“Ha! I’ll think about it, Cap.”

“You’re the meanest sister ever!”

“No she isn’t.”

“Yes, she is.”

“It’s called Tough Love, Samuel.”

“Just get in the car. You and that Tough Love bullsh—“

“Language!”

“What?!?”

She��s used to it by now. It’s sort of The Other Family Business: Superheroes.

This time, however, when the SUV drove off with her brother and her lover, the second the vehicle made that turn out of the driveway, she sat on the front step, and had a good, angry cry.

After a few minutes, she dried her eyes on her (on Bucky’s) t-shirt, and took a deep breath. “Okay. Enough of that…”

She got up, went into the house, picked up her cellphone, a notepad and pencil, pressed a speed dial number, and started making plans.

Evening, on the Other Side of the World…

Bucky dragged himself into the tiny old hotel room, dropped his backpack on the dresser, closed the curtains, checked the room for bugs...and bugs, then he turned on the old school TV set (complete with rabbit ears) and clicked the old remote until he found a futbol match.

He could still smell the light fragrance of Sarah’s hair conditioner, and feel her body against his when he kissed her goodbye.

“Damn…” he mumbled, reaching deep into his backpack and pulling out a small brown bag of plums.

“Happy Thanksg—“

Someone knocked on the door.

He retrieved one of his fixed blade knives from a compartment in the backpack, and waited.

Another knock, this time in a familiar pattern.

“Yo, Buck?”

Bucky opened the door to find Sam standing there with what looked like a box wrapped in a thermal blanket. There was also a smaller flat box sitting on top of it.

“Hey, come in. What’s all that?”

“It’s a special delivery. This goes with it.”

Sam handed him a six pack of a local beer, and pulled an envelope out of his jacket pocket.

“I got one too. Seems like we weren’t going to be spending the holiday away from…well, go’on open your envelope. I’m heading back to my room for mine.”

“What—?”

“Don’t ask me. Just open this envelope. Have a good evening, Buck.”

“Um…Thanks?”

“You’re welcome, Cyborg Man.”

Bucky heard Sam chuckle as he closed the door.

He moved his laptop to the bed and placed the boxes on the small table in the corner, opened the envelope, and picked up his cellphone, smiling as he dialed the encrypted number on the StarkTech phone.

“Hey, nandi.”

“Hey yourself, mthandi.”

“Can I see you?”

“Of course. Hold on…”

Their screens both go black, then they see each other.

He gently touches her cheek on his screen, and she touches his cheek on hers.

“I miss you.”

“I miss you, too. Wait. Have you…? James. Open the boxes.”

“Boxes? Oh!!”

Bucky unwrapped the large box first and when he opened the seal, steam wafted out, and delicious aromas filled the room.

He couldn’t believe his eyes, or his nose.

It was a whole meal of turkey, dressing, greens, cornbread and slices of his favorite: Sarah’s meatloaf. There was even a separate container of a serving of gumbo.

“Baby…” he chuckled, eyes beginning to brim, “what…what did you—?”

“I figured, since we couldn’t be together like we planned, we could at least…well… shoot, I wasn’t gonna cry…”

Bucky was wiping his eyes as well.

“Sarah…this is just…did Sam get—should I go get—?“

“No. He’s good. Probably on the phone with Misty right about now. The two of us got together. She arranged to have a QuinnJet bring me to New York not long after you left. She knew the team’s prep schedule, so we did our shopping, spent a day cooking, and had the boxes loaded onto the transport before departure.

I asked Torres to make sure neither of you knew about the boxes until you were at your destination. Misty and I made him a combo plate from both of us.”

“I don’t know what to…Thank you, intanda. This is…”

“Close the box, put the heat blanket back on it, get cleaned up and comfy. I’ll wait, so we can have dinner together. Okay?”

Bucky wiped his eyes and picked up the small brown bag, showing her what was inside, “I was gonna have these plums.”

“Have them for breakfast. Your dessert is in the pie box.”

“My dessert is in Delacroix, where I should be right now,” he says in that tone that makes her toes curl in that good way.

“Boy, stop!” she giggles.

He hears Sarah giggle and it makes him want to run all the way back to Louisiana, Secret Empire wannabees and the Atlantic Ocean be damned.

He opened the box and she watched him bite his lip in anticipation. Bites his lip in that way.

She sees him bite his lip and she wants to run to him, Louisiana swamps and the Atlantic Ocean be damned.

“You’re still saving me a slice for when I get home, right?”

“Of course! I brought you over to Team Sweet Potato Pie. No way I’m letting you backslide back to pumpkin! Not as long as we’re—“

“Come’ere, you,” he laughs, walking the phone into the bathroom.

“Where are we going?”

“Getting ready for a quick shower.”

She can see his metal hand and the bathroom ceiling, then the phone tips forward and now she can see him. Most of him. He repositions the phone again and now she can see a goodly amount of him.

He reached into the shower, turned on the tap, then faced the camera, took off his shirt, and started unbuttoning his jeans.

“Want to tell me what you’re doing, mthandi?” Sarah said, before draining her entire glass of sweet tea because The Thirst was real.

“Taking a shower so I can get ready for dinner with my intanda,” he smiled. “Care to join me?”

“Are you taking your phone into the—“

“Sure am. What! It’s waterproof.”

* * * * * * * * * *

@fleurdelouvemonth 2023 - Week 1: “Food” - Day 2: “Sweet Potato Pie”

Also posted on The AO3.

Thanks for reading!

#bucky barnes #sarah wilson #sarahbucky #buckysarah #sarah x bucky #bucky x sarah #sarah wilson x bucky barnes #bucky barnes x sarah wilson #sarah wilson/bucky barnes #bucky barnes/sarah wilson #sam wilson #fleur de louve #fleurdelouve month #fleurdelouve month 2023 #week 1 #prompt food #sarahbucky fanfiction #fan fiction

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sarifinasnightmare · 6 months

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Seeking Warmth

Rating: For Everyone

Summary: Bucky is usually the one waking Sarah up with his nightmares. Tonight it's the other way around.

Warning: Deals with grief over a loved one.

Prompt: Tell me a story...I don't know any stories.

Sarah woke up gasping with tears streaming down her face. Quickly she tried to stifle her sobs, but it was too late, Bucky was already awake and staring down at her with great concern.

“What happened?” He asked, checking her over. Usually, it was him that woke up, sweaty and stressed from his nightmares. Tonight, it was the other way around and honestly, he didn’t really care for it.

The strong, indomitable part of herself wanted to wipe her tears away and assure him that it was just a nightmare and she was fine, but her heart was still aching and the tears weren’t stopping, so she just let herself weep.

“Sarah?” He asked more gently as he reached out to rest his hand over the one she hand laying over her chest.

“I…” she tried to gather her thoughts, but it was tough as the painful memory clung to her. “…I begged him not to leave me…I know I should’ve…go in peace…but I was in so much…pain…”

Understanding, Bucky reached over and pulled her into his arms as the bitter memory of her husband’s death overwhelmed her. From what he’d been told, Cassius had put off seeing the doctor until the pain had become unbearable and by then the diagnosis came too late. He’d died so quickly that it had left his beloved Sarah grief stricken and in utter shock. Like him, the trauma never truly healed, but was set aside only to emerge like a ghost in the night.

“Just cry it out.” He soothed her gently. “I’m here.”

“He told me he was sorry. He wished he had done things different.” She sighed. “I had to pretend that I was strong, that I could handle doing it on my own just to put him at ease.” She shook her head. “I wasn’t…I was so…angry…and scared…he promised to grow old with me and he…lied.”

“You still angry?” He asked curiously.

For a moment she said nothing, just buried her face against his soft blue shirt. “Maybe bitter. I mean, all of this could’ve been avoided and he’d still be here watching our boys grow, helping me with the house, the business…I wouldn’t have this hole…”

“It’s because I asked about marriage isn’t it? You’re afraid that I’m going to leave you like your husband did.”

They had been dating for years now and Bucky was completely invested in Sarah, Cass and AJ. He had broached the topic to her expecting some excitement, but instead had received a timid response begging him to let her think about it.

Sarah felt fresh tears of frustration spill out. “I want to say yes. I’m aching to say yes, but the memories hurt so much. Bucky, I love you, I do, please believe me.”

He kissed her precious face and squeezed her tight against him. “I know you love me. I’m so lucky that you love me and I love you so much that sometimes I can’t see straight.”

“How can you love someone whose too scared to get married again?”

He sighed, staring down at her sad brown eyes and kissed her forehead. “I have so much baggage and so do you. I pushed too soon and I’m sorry for that. You and the boys are all that I need, and I shouldn’t need a ring and a paper to confirm it.”

“You deserve it, Bucky. After everything, you deserve to get exactly what you want.” She insisted.

“I got what I want. I’m not mad, promise.” He smiled warmly at her. “Please don’t cry.”

It was still too raw, and she sighed. “Make me forget…Tell me a story.”

Bucky frowned a little. “I don’t know any stories.”

Now she frowned. “Was it all so miserable for you back then? You had no happy moments?”

“I mean no, but so much is a blur…I do remember my childhood and days during the war.” Suddenly the corner of his lips lifted. “I just remembered.”

“What?”

“It was during the war, and I was with my unit. The weather was so cold, the coldest I’d ever felt in my life and we were all freezing our asses off. Many of us huddled together sharing blankets. Gabe was always warm blooded, so he was fairing slightly better and was trying to sleep. Jim was a popsicle and had rested against Gabe to get some warmth. Dum Dum noticed the cuddle fest and decided to start telling this dirty story about him and some girl he met at a bar. It was just getting good when all of sudden Gabe flipped out on Jim and was like yelling, Hell no, Jim, what the hell! and Dum Dum was laughing hysterically. It took me a minute to realize that Jim really liked the story and Gabe felt it.”

Sarah snorted then giggled, making Bucky grin triumphantly.

“They’re all a bunch of idiots, but they were great guys. I miss them.” He added, soothing away a lingering tear from her cheek. “I can tell you more. I remember one time with Pinkerton, a girl and a tank.”

“Maybe later.” Sarah smiled faintly. “Where did you met girls during a war. I imagined it was all fighting.”

“Well when Steve joined us we got a little more down time and there were a lot of cute nurses and secretaries.”

“Any caught your eye?” She pressed her cheek against his hand, finding comfort in his warmth.

“A few, but none like you.” He admitted before kissing her nose.

“You don’t have to say that. I bet they were beautiful with their red lipstick and fitted uniforms.”

“Well yeah but they’re still not you. I love you.”

Her heart swelled and her smile grew stronger. “I love you too. Hold me tight. I don’t want to feel alone.”

“I’m here.” He promised, clutching her to him as he pulled the sheets to cover them both. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

Soothed, Sarah drifted off, confident that Bucky would keep the nightmares at bay.

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