#post-TFATWS fic

[burberrycanary]

Not Language but a Map (The Grammar of Sensation) ∘ a Post-TFATWS Fix-it

Stucky, Endgame Fix-it, Road Trip Get Together

Indirect light fills the bedroom with a pearly glow, reflecting off the courtyard walls outside where more of those tangling vines with hundreds of pale star-shaped flowers trail down. They must’ve forgotten to close the curtains after eating room service late in the little private courtyard covered with blue-and-yellow tiles as Bucky lounged in one chair with his bare feet kicked up on another, wearing only those dark sweats low on his hips.

Now, heavy and warm with sleep, Bucky sprawls out against his chest; Bucky, who came back to his bed at some point in the early morning.

Steve skims his knuckles down the long dip of Bucky’s spine: his walking-around miracle, his bad penny.  

Read Chapter 7 on AO3

Only the epilogue left to go in this part of the series!

#stucky #stucky fic #steve x bucky #steve x bucky fic #steve/bucky #steve/bucky fic #stevebucky #stevebucky fic #steve rogers #bucky barnes #endgame fix-it #endgame fix-it fic #post-tfatws #post-TFATWS fic #new chapter! #not language but a map #the existential loneliness of steven g. rogers #bucky barnes needs a hug #otp: till the end of the line #otp: even when I had nothing I had you #steve makes better choices #he's trying folks

[bisamwilson]

tfatws sambucky valentines

+ bonus:

#happy valentines y'all #if i don't get a fic posted this counts as a contribution right #sambucky #onlysambucky #only sambucky #winterfalcon #buckysam #sam x bucky #bucky x sam #sam wilson x bucky barnes #bucky barnes x sam wilson #sambucky valentines #valentines meme #valentines #marvel #mcu #the falcon and the winter soldier #tfatws

[wvintersoldat]

cold - b. barnes

summary | you and bucky don’t get along. you never have, and you never will. so of course, Steve has decided you guys will be partnered up for everything from now on.

pairing | bucky barnes x Stark!reader

warnings | swearing, mentions of violence, hypothermia, drowning, mentions of past trauma

_____

“Y/N! I trip over your shit one more goddamn time and I’m fucking burning it!”

“Your cat bites me once more and I’m fucking kicking it!”

“Oh, fuck you!”

“Fuck me? Fuck you!”

“I swear to God, I’m gonna fucking kill you.”

“Good luck with that, you fucker!”

Bucky storms past Steve and Sam, anger radiating off of him. The two men share a look, Sam poorly hiding his grin behind his hand.

“God. They’re seriously gonna hurt each other one of these days.” Sam laughs as soon as the door to Bucky’s room slams shut.

Steve grins, though it is quickly replaced by a thoughtful frown. Sam grimaces, recognizing his scheming look, and sighs.

“You’re gonna fuck with ‘em?”

A grin forms on Steve’s lips as he stares at Bucky’s closed door. “How would you feel about getting a new partner?”

Sam snorts. “You’re crazy, man.”

_____

“You’re reassigning me? Why? Did I do something wrong?”

“No, we’re just rearranging some things. Trying out some new combinations.”

You roll your eyes, shaking your head as you smooth your hair away from your face. Forcing a steadying breath between your lips, you return your eyes to the borderline smug look on Steve’s face.

“Who am I with then? Sam?”

Steve shuffles some papers around on the table, fingers flitting nervously before he glances up at you.

“It's, uh,” he clears his throat, “it’s gonna be you and Buck for a while.”

“What?” You screech, “Bucky fucking Barnes? You paired me with him?”

Steve sighs. “Look, it's not that big of a deal-”

“Fuck off, Steve! Are you out of your mind?”

“If you two could just act like adults for five minutes, this wouldn’t even be an issue.”

You snort, rolling your eyes and turning your back to him as he continues to speak. “Look, if you can’t handle it, I‘ll just take you off of missions for a while.”

Scrubbing a hand down your face, you sigh. The slight edge in Steve’s voice lets you know that this decision is not up for debate, and arguing isn't going to change his mind. Your eyes flutter shut, shoulders rolling forward in defeat as some of the anger seeps out of your body.

“Fine. I’ll work with Barnes.”

“Fantastic. You better go check that you’re all packed up. We leave for Romania in four hours.”

“Yes sir.” You state curtly, not bothering to wait for his dismissal before you turn and hurry toward your room, leaving Steve smirking behind you.

_____

“Ten minutes to the drop point,” Sam calls over his shoulder, glancing back just long enough to catch your nod of acknowledgment. Next to you, Bucky sighs and hauls himself to his feet. You watch him out of the side of your eye as he walks toward the cockpit where Steve and Sam are seated, arguing heatedly with them while glancing in your direction. You roll your eyes at them and pull yourself to your feet, grabbing your parachute and beginning to strap it on.

As you lock the last clasp in place, Bucky appears next to you. You freeze, watching as he double-checks all of the straps on his suit while pointedly ignoring you. When he’s done, he looks up at you and raises an eyebrow.

“Can I help you with something?”

You swallow, quickly dropping your gaze back down and locking the last strap in place.

“Nope. Hand me my knife.”

Bucky rolls his eyes, throwing a glare over at Steve as he watches the both of you from afar before grabbing the knife from the seat next to him and shoving the hilt into your waiting hands. You barely catch the knife before he’s stepping closer to you, his fingers tightening on the parachute straps across your shoulders. The air leaves your lung as his touch ghosts across your collarbones, and he takes your moment of surprise to step closer to you.

“If you fuck this up for me, it will be the last thing you ever do.”

Though a shiver travels down your spine at the threat, you pull back a few inches to meet his eyes, a grin on your lips.

“Funny, I was just about to say the same thing.” You whisper, gently grazing your knife over his hip bone and towards the waistband of his pants while watching the glint of something dark flash in his eyes.

“Five minute.” Sam calls.

Bucky releases his grip on you and you slide your knife away from him and into it's holster. Steve clears his throat, standing closer to the two of you now and you finally break your stare in favor of glaring at the blonde man. Steve looks entirely unimpressed with the two of you, going as far as to roll his eyes before he turns to point at the map laid out on the table and begins to speak.

“Alright, guys. We’re dropping you half a mile from the base.” He points to the circle drawn over the blank area of the map, then traces his finger over to the large ‘X’ that marks the Hydra base. “Get in, plant the bombs, and get out. Then, make your way to the safe house, and we will meet you there in the morning. Any questions?”

When neither of you responds, he nods, a stern look appearing on his face. “Y/N, Buck, behave. Look out for each other. No fighting. The last thing we need is either of you killed. Understand?”

Bucky rolls his eyes and runs a hand through his hair. Steve grabs his shoulder, forcing the former assassin’s gaze back to him.

“Do you understand?”

You watch Bucky’s jaw tense before he responds. “Yes, Steve. I understand.”

The super soldier’s gaze flicks to you, and you nod quickly. “I understand.”

“One minute.”

Steve nods at the both of you. “Good luck. Stay safe.”

You force a grin and wink at him. “I always am.”

He rolls his eyes, but laughs as you step towards the door that Bucky has pushed open for you to jump out of. He stands in the doorway, watching the ground pass below, and you stop across from him, sucking in a breath as you watch the tops of trees speed past hundreds of feet under you.

You bite your lip as you feel the sting of the wind against your cheek. You see the small clearing you are to land in approaching in the distance, and nervously tighten your straps down in preparation to jump. Anxiety claws at your stomach as you race closer, and then you faintly hear Sam give the signal, and barely register a hand tugging on your arm before the plane is gone from under your feet and you are dropping through the air.

_____

That mission and the next dozen pass in a blur of adrenaline and noise. You and Buck remain at each other's throats, resulting in several injuries between the two of you. You had nearly ruined the last mission when a childish competition and bickering had gotten between you, distracting you from your target. He had almost managed to escape before Steve swooped on and handled it.

After a few disciplinary lectures from Steve and Sam, you and Bucky were given one last chance to redeem yourselves before you were placed on leave for an undetermined amount of time. That is what leads you and Bucky to Kazakhstan, and a moonlit run through the snowy woods.

Flakes of snow hurtle past you, sticking to your icy skin and causing tiny pin pricks of pain to spark through you. The cold air tears at your lungs and throat with every breath you take, and your legs burn with exhaustion. You feel faintly dizzy and sick, and cold- so, so cold.

You have kept pace with Bucky so far, but now you are starting to fall behind, struggling to dodge the fallen trees and sticks in your path and not slip on the icy snow. You want to stop so badly. You‘re exhausted. Your body is screaming at you to lie down in the snow and sleep for a year or two- but you push yourself forward. You tuck the screams of protest away into the back of your mind and focus on the glint of moonlight shining off of Bucky’s metal arm, guiding you through the snowy night.

After what you are sure is a lifetime of running, you reach the top of a small ridge and barely catch a glimpse of a small cabin hidden in the snow and trees a few hundred yards below. You nearly cry in relief, legs threatening to buckle as Bucky continues his brutal pace down towards the safe house.

You race across the final treacherous distance to the cabin, only slowing when Bucky reaches the door and pulls his glove from his flesh hand, pressing his thumb to the small block above the door. A small light flashes once, twice, and then a buzz sounds before it clicks and the door swings open. A sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob rips through you as you both spill through the door and into the dark cottage.

For a few moments, you both stand in darkness, leaning against the door and breathing heavily. Your chin falls to your chest and your legs shake with over exertion, but you stay standing. As your breathing slows, you feel Bucky push away from the door and step further into the room, fumbling around in the darkness.

“You got a flashlight?” Bucky says, finally breaking the silence.

You step shakily away from the door, running your hands over your suit in a fruitless search.

“No. I- I’ve got nothing. There's not a light switch?”

“I don't know. I can't see.” He snaps.

“Right. Uh, hold on. Where are you?”

You stumble blindly in the direction you heard him move in before you feel something brush against your side, and then a hand lands on your waist.

“Here.” He says quietly, his warm breath brushing against your cheek.

“Okay, don’t move.”

You trace your hand down the side of your suit, your hand brushing against his briefly before you pull away and find the pocket you are looking for. You fumble with the zipper for a moment before reaching in and grabbing the item you were looking for and pulling it out.

“Aha.” You hold the stun gun to the side, away from both you and Bucky before pushing the button to bring the taser to life. It sparks for a moment, and you feel Bucky’s hand tighten on your hip in surprise. Finally, it clicks to life all the way, and the bridge of electricity provides you with a little light.

You take Bucky’s wrist with your free hand, placing it on your shoulder, and lead him around the room with the tiny light source, searching for a light switch.

“Hey, over there.” Bucky points past to an area to your left, too dark for you to see, and you step closer until the circle of light catches on the edge of a fireplace.

“Okay, well, good job. You found an empty fireplace. Can you start a fire in the dark without wood?”

He scoffs his breath tickling your ear due to how close he was to you, his chest practically touching your back. His hand reaches up to yours, pulling the weapon from your grip. The room goes dark again, and for a moment it stays that way- both of you standing in the dark just inches apart, his warm breath thawing the chilled skin on the back of your neck. Then, there’s a soft buzz before the stun gun clicks back to life, and he's slipping around you to explore.

You stay stuck in your spot for a moment before the cold begins to seep painfully back into your skin. You step forward, closer to Bucky and the light, and watch as he fumbles around until he finds the edge of the fireplace and the small stack of wood piled next to it. He makes a small triumphant noise, and you can barely see the smug look on his face when he turns back to you.

“You’d be so fucked without me.” He snorts, grabbing a few pieces of the wood and throwing them into the fireplace. You roll your eyes at him, stepping over to help.

“Whatever, Barnes. Just start the fucking fire.”

He laughs as you finish piling the wood, and then he uses the stun gun to start it on fire. It only takes a few tries before the old wood ignites, spreading warmth and light through the cabin.

You drop to your knees in front of the fireplace, your cold, shaking hands held out in front of you towards the flames. Bucky stands behind you for a moment before turning to look around the cabin. You hear him shuffling around for a few moments before a chair creaks and groans and Bucky sighs.

“Jesus.” His voice is muffled, and you glance over your shoulder to find his head in his hands.

“You good?”

He snorts, pulling his head up to meet your eyes, and you are shocked by the cold glare he sends your way.

“Am I fucking good? Are you kidding?”

You turn to face him, surprised by his sudden aggression. “What the hell is your problem?”

“You!” He shouts. “You’re my fucking problem, Y/N. God, if you weren’t so fucking annoying and incompetent we wouldn't even have to be here right now.”

“Me? Did you hit your head? I’m the only reason we survived today.”

He laughs. “Yeah, right. I had to drag your ass out of the line of fire more than once. You let yourself get cornered, for God’s sake. If I wouldn't have stepped in, you’d be a splatter in a wall.”

“Why did you step in then, Barnes?”

“Cause I don't need to lose my job over some little princess who’s only here because her big brother had connections.”

Had. Had. Tears well in your eyes at the mention of Tony. It had been five years since Tony died while defeating Thanos, and you still hadn't truly recovered. Your brother had been your closest friend, and you had been closer than anything. Losing him hit you hard, and everyone knew it.

You lock your jaw, pressing your lips together, and shake your head. “Fuck you, Bucky.”

Shaking, you stand and walk quickly to the door stepping outside and slamming it shut as Bucky stands from his chair. Anger and grief swirl through your mind as you trudge towards the woods. As you reach the treeline, you hear the door open again, and Bucky calling your name. Raising your hand over your head, you flip him off and continue to walk away.

The cold bites at your exposed skin and burns your chest, but you tuck your arms close around yourself as push forward, desperate to put distance between yourself and Bucky before you do something that could cost you your position on Steve’s team.

You plod on, your argument with Bucky mixing with thousands of others in your head, all of his harsh words and cold glares causing your anger to grow stronger.

Bucky doesn’t know shit about you, and yet he thinks you aren't good enough to be his partner. He doesn't know how you trained after your parents died, desperate to protect yourself and Tony. He doesn't know about how desperate you were to become stronger and faster and smarter, or the nights your brother had to nurse you back to health after you bit off more than you could chew and picked a fight with someone you shouldn't have. Bucky doesn’t know about your years of training with Nat and Clint- and eventually Steve- after Shield recruited you, or the months you spent being tortured by Brock Rumlow and Alexander Pierce as they worked to bring down Shield and release the Winter Soldier.

Fury, Tony, and Steve were the only people who knew your story and your extensive qualifications. Bucky didn’t know shit about you or how competent you truly were. So fuck him.

The snap of branches behind you pulls you from your thoughts and has you reaching for your knives.

“Y/N?”

You roll your eyes as Bucky emerges from the trees.

“What the fuck do you want?”

He sighs, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Look, I’m sorry I pissed you off, but you’ve gotta come back to the safe house.”

You snort. “Fuck off. Leave me alone, you prick.”

“Why are you being so difficult?”

“I’m difficult?” You shout. “You’re an asshole, Bucky Barnes.”

He closes his eyes, sighing again. “Okay. You know what, let's go back to the cabin and talk about this there.”

You stare at him, still holding your knives at your side.

“No?” He rubs a hand over his face. “You’re shaking, Y/N. It's cold out here. Let's just go back to the cabin, and I’ll leave you alone for the rest of the night.”

He holds out his hand towards you, but you don't move. His head tilts to the side, a pleading look on his face, and quietly adds, “I promise.”

Sighing, you slide the knives back into your suit. You’re reaching for his hand and taking a step forward when there’s a loud crack, and ice-cold water surges up around you.

You’re falling. The water is painfully cold, instantly stealing the breath from your lungs, leaving them burning and raw. Your head dips under the water, into the frozen darkness below, and you’re screaming. Your panicked, frozen mind fights desperately to swim back to the surface, but your limbs are cold, numb, and unresponsive.

You’re drowning. You’re suffocating, choking on the water as you fall toward the murky bottom. Your lungs scream for air, and in a desperate final attempt, you draw upon every last inch of energy within your body to force your arm up towards the surface. For a second, you’re sure you’ll break through the top of the water, but even with the burst of strength, your outstretched arm doesn't quite reach.

With dark splotches forming in your vision, your limbs begin to feel heavy again, and you feel your energy giving out. The cold seeps into every inch of your body, and just before your eyes close, you feel a hand latch onto your wrist and then you’re going up-up, up, up, until you can feel the sting of icy air against your skin and snow pressed against your back.

“Y/N!” Bucky’s voice sounds distant to you, but still full of shock and fear. “Y/N, keep your eyes open. I’m right here.”

You feel him prodding at you, and then you’re on your side and he’s hitting your back. You cough, water leaving your lungs only to be replaced by the brutal icy air. You cough and cough, and then there’s a hand on your face, warm against your frozen skin, and his voice sounds closer, crisper.

“Y/N! Y/N, please! Please come back.”

You groan, and he sighs as your eyes flutter open. Bucky leans over you, the wild panic in his eyes slowly fading away to be replaced by relief.

“Bucky?” Your teeth chatter as you say his name, voice raspy and breath labored, but his eyes side closed and he leans forward slightly, pressing his forehead against your chest for a moment.

“It’s me. It’s me, Y/N.” He pulls his head back to meet your eyes again, grief and worry flashing across his face. “God, I thought I lost you. I almost lost you. I’m so sorry, Y/N. I’m so sorry.”

You’re confused, still in shock, and entering the beginning stages of hypothermia, but you still set a shaking hand against his bicep.

“I’m- I’m okay. I’m right here, Buck.”

“God, Y/N, you’re so cold. Come on, we’ve got to get you back.” He gently wraps his arms under your shoulders and knees, lifting you to his chest and pulling himself to his feet. You tuck your arms against his chest, desperate for the warmth emanating from him.

The walk back to the cabin feels like both a few seconds and several years, but by the time you get here droplets of water have frozen to your skin, and your hair is beginning to freeze. Bucky struggles with the lock for a few moments, then practically kicks the door down when it opens, before racing to the fire.

Bucky sets you down in front of it, hushing you when you murmur his name. He throws a few more logs onto the fire and leaves you again. You have enough conscious thought left to scoot as close as you can to the flames, curling your body up tight into a ball, before Bucky returns.

“Y/N?”

You hum softly in response, eyes closed and body shaking as you lay on the wood floor.

“C’mere doll.” He reaches for you, and you slowly set your trembling hands in his. Bucky pulls you to sit upright in front of the fireplace.

“Is that okay for a minute?” He asks. You nod, swaying gently in his hold, and he frowns.

“You sure?” You nod again and he hesitantly releases you, turning to the pile of blankets and rugs he gathered behind you. Bucky hurriedly sets the rugs out in front of you, covering the cold stone floor with different furs and weavings before tossing a threadbare blanket over the top of the small nest he created. He throws a few pillows into it, then turns back to you.

“Alright, now the scary part.” He crouches next to you, setting his hand against your cheek so you slowly raise your gaze to meet his.

“We gotta get you out of those clothes, doll. Can you help me?”

Bucky’s tone is so gentle- calming and full of warmth and kindness. You aren't used to it, but in your confused state, you trust him entirely. You nod at him, eyes slightly unfocused and body shaking with cold. He nods back, then glances down at your suit.

“Okay, okay. This is- okay.” He sounds nervous, his hands hovering over you as his eyes dart across you. You shakily raise your hand to the front of your suit, fumbling for the zipper with your numb, frostbitten fingers.

“Bucky.” His eyes dart up to meet yours, then he nods and looks down to your hands, gently brushing your fingers away as he grabs the zipper. He slowly drags it down, stopping to unbuckle your utility vest, and then sets his fingers against the edge of the suit, brushing lightly against your collarbone. You shiver, and he pauses, glancing up at you again.

“Ready?”

You nod, and he drags in a quick breath.

“Alright. Arms first.” Bucky’s fingers slide over your bare shoulders and down your arms to your wrists, then one hand at a time helps you free yourself from your suit. You note his gaze dip over your exposed skin for just a moment before making a point to avoid looking anywhere other than your arm. Once you're out, he quickly grabs one of the blankets from the pile and wraps it around your shoulders before he sets his hands against your hips.

“You’re doing great, doll, almost done. Will you help me get this off?” He murmurs, tapping at your suit-covered hips.

“Yeah.” The blanket, fire, and his hands are starting to warm you up, and the fog is slowly clearing from your brain. He seems to notice the slight clarity in your eyes, as he smiles at you and grabs another blanket from the floor to wrap around you. You laugh softly as he settles it over your head to create a sort of hood, and he grins at you before gently pulling your shoes and socks off.

He helps you shimmy out of your pants, again careful to avoid looking at any inch of your exposed skin. While you appreciate the fact he is trying to maintain your sense of modesty, you are so fucking cold that you truly don't care what he sees. He moves you to the bed he created on the floor in front of the fire, covering you in dozens of blankets, and then disappears again. After he’s gone for a few moments, you find yourself staring into the fire, feeling warmth slowly reenter your body. Your mind slowly clears, and you close your eyes as flashes of your near-drowning play in your mind.

After a moment, you hear Bucky return, and turn to look at him. He walks back into the room, a towel in hand, and rubs wildly at his hair. You frown, confused for a second before he pulls the towel away and you realize his hair is wet.

“Bucky?” You slowly pull yourself upright, and he catches your confused gaze and hurries over.

“Are you alright? What’s wrong?” He asks quickly, eyes darting across your form to try and find the problem.

You fumble through the mass of blankets to free your arm, then reach out towards him. He frowns but doesn't flinch away as your hand finds his damp hair. You run your fingers through the dark strands, then drop them to his shirt, which is also cold and wet. Now that you aren’t shaking as badly, you notice the slight tremble in his body.

“Buck, did you jump in after me?”

He frowns at you, then drops his gaze to your hand settled against his shoulder.

“I-” He cuts himself off, sighs, and starts again, “I tried to grab you, but I got to you too late. I just missed your hand. Then, next thing I know, you’re like eight feet under and I just- I had to get you out, you know, so I just jumped.”

You stare at him. “Bucky Barnes, you jumped into a frozen river to save me?”

He doesn't respond, continuing to stare at your hand. You follow his gaze, slowly moving your hand up to his jaw. You lift his face towards you and he slowly meets your eyes.

“Thank you, Bucky. You saved my life.”

“Again.” He adds with a small smile.

“Don't be a dick. Now strip and get in here before you freeze to death.”

“I’ll be fine. I’ve got the serum and-”

“Yeah, well I’m still cold and you're always a freaking furnace, so get in here.”

He sighs dramatically and rolls his eyes, but nods.

“Fine, but you gotta turn around.”

“Come on, we both know you peeked.”

His cheeks darken but he gestures for you to turn away. You sigh dramatically and roll towards the fire. You hear him step away, and then turn your head back to glance at him as you hear him pull his shirt over his head. His back is to you, but you watch the muscles along his back and shoulders ripple with the movement. Once the material is over his head you turn back to the fire.

A few moments later you feel your makeshift bed shift as he settles in next to you, careful not to touch you. You roll your eyes, shifting onto your back and turning your head to look at him.

“Really?”

“What?”

“You are half hanging off of this thing.”

“Am not.”

“You have a corner of a blanket.”

“I’m comfortable.”

“I can feel you shaking.”

“That’s you, doll.”

You scoff. “The whole point of this was to not freeze to death. Get in here, I’m cold.”

Bucky rolls his eyes, but shifts closer until his arm brushes against yours.

“Better?”

“I guess.”

“You’re needy tonight.”

You elbow him in the side.

“Ow!”

“You’re an ass.”

He grins and you turn back to face the fire.

The two of you lay awkwardly next to each other for a while, neither of you speaking, while you stare into the fire.

“Y/N?” Bucky whispers.

“Yeah?”

“You feelin’ any better?”

“Yeah, I’m good.”

He’s quiet for a few seconds, then his fingers wrap around your wrist and he tugs lightly. You turn to face him, expecting him to drop your hand, but he keeps his grip.

“I’m glad you’re not dead.”

You smile softly. “I think that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

He rolls his eyes, scoffing.

You giggle at him, sliding your arm back until his fingers are entangled in his. “I’m glad I’m alive too. Thank you, again, for saving me.”

He nods, the smile leaving his lips and he looks down.

“I’m- I’m sorry about what I said earlier. About all the shit I’ve said to you, actually.”

You’re shocked, but he doesn't give you a chance to recover before he’s speaking again.

“I- I remember you. From, uh, Hydra. I don't remember why, but I do. You were there- weren’t you? At the end?”

You swallow hard, eyes falling to the reflection of the fire in his metal arm.

“I was.”

“Were you, um, with them?” His hand shakes slightly in yours.

“You think I worked for Hydra?”

“No. Yes? I’m not sure. Everything from that time is still a little fuzzy. But the first day I met you, I recognized you.”

It's beginning to make sense to you now- the truth of why he didn't like you. He thought you worked for the people who hurt him, and no one ever told him the truth of why you were with Pierce and Rumlow because they were either dead or sworn to secrecy.

“They- Pierce and his troop of idiots- knew who I was. They knew I was connected to Steve and Nat, and thought I would have information on them. They sent me on a secret solo mission and then kidnapped me. They knew that Steve could be a threat to their mission so they wanted me to rat him out in exchange for my life, but I refused.”

Bucky watches you silently, emotions flitting across his face as you speak.

“I think they kept us kind of close to each other. I didn’t know you then, but I could hear you screaming. Just having to hear what they did to you Buck- that was the worst part.”

“I’m sorry.” He whispers after a few minutes of silence.

“For what?”

“For being so horrible to you. I thought- I was convinced you were one of them and it turns out you were, you were hurt just like me.”

Tears prick at your eyes, and you squeeze his hand. Your other hand reaches up to cup his cheek, and his eyes dart up to yours again.

“It’s okay, Buck. I understand now.”

“Do you think we can start over?” He murmurs.

“Definitely.”

He clears his throat loudly, smiling when you laugh at him.

“Hello. My name is Bucky and I think you are one of the most beautiful people I have ever seen.”

You laugh. “I think your hypothermia is talking.”

He shakes his head. “Nope, it's true. You are beautiful.”

Bucky reaches up and gently pushed a strand of your hair away from your face.

“You're really laying it on thick tonight, Barnes.”

“Is it working?“

“Maybe a little.”

He grins, leaning closer to you.

“It's crazy to think that a few hours ago I wanted nothing more than to break your pretty little face.”

He gasps. “How violent, doll.”

You hum softly, watching the light bounce off of his bright blue eyes.

“Bucky?”

“Hmm?”

“I’m cold.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhmm. I think you should kiss me. To share warmth.”

He laughs. “Right. For medical purposes.”

“Of course.”

He uses your intertwined hands to pull you closer to him, your chest pressing against his. Your breath hitches as his cool metal hand slides over your waist to rest against your spine. You trace your fingers slowly over the ridges of his arm, both of you watching the movement until you reach his shoulder, and then his eyes meet yours.

“Y/N.”

“Buck.”

“Are you sure?”

“So sure.”

Your hand slides up to his cheek, and his eyes shutter closed for a moment, and he opens them again for just a moment before his nose brushes against yours, and then his lips are on yours and every part of you just feels so perfectly right.

Your hand slides to his hair and you tug gently at it, causing him to groan softly into you. You smile into the kiss and his fingers press against your back. He draws back slightly, forehead pressing against yours.

“Doll, you keep doing that, and you’re gonna get us into a situation that neither of us can be in right now.”

Excitement floods through you, but the events of the day flash through your mind and your exhaustion seeps back in. You release your grip with a soft laugh and scratch the back of his head gently.

You press a quick kiss to his lips before pulling back. “I guess I’ll just have to remember that for next time, then.”

“Next time?”

You shrug. “I mean, if you want.”

“God, yes.”

You grin, kissing him once more before spinning in his arms and pressing your back against his chest. You feel Bucky’s breath hitch, then his arms are tightening around your waist and holding you against him, his face pressed into your shoulder.

“You sure got snuggly fast.”

He hums into your skin. “I think I’ve liked you for a while now.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhmm.”

“Me too. Maybe we were just expressing it the wrong way.”

He hums again, your newfound comfort lulling you both towards sleep.

“You’re warm.” He murmurs, voice muffled by your skin.

“Yeah, you fixed me right up, Doc.”

He laughs. “Couldn’t have my partner dying on me. Looks bad.”

You laugh, and he tightens his grip on you.

“How are we gonna explain this to Sam and Steve?” You ask after a minute.

“Explain? I think those assholes set us up.” Bucky grumbles.

You laugh again. “Yeah, that definitely sounds like something they’d do.”

“We’ll get ‘em back.”

Your eyes slide closed, your hands resting over Bucky’s. “We’ll make sure they regret ever thinking this up.”

He hums. “They’re gonna hate us. We’re gonna be so obnoxious.”

“As if we weren't already.”

_____

#bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky fic #bucky barnes #steve rogers #tfatws #catws #post tfatws #post catws #marvel #bucky barnes angst #the avengers

[staying-elive]

I'd rewrite a lot about the FATWS Madripoor scenes if I could. Just make it more... (but also remove the phone thing because I can't watch that without cringing. (There's no way Sam wouldn't've silenced his phone. Or even taken it with him.) )

But what if there was a bigger fight scene before they make it out to the streets? A little more danger, a little more Sam and Bucky covering each other... protecting each other... one pulling the other out of the line of fire. A couple more scrapes... maybe a bullet graze or something that's not as serious as it first looks. (Because panic leads to angst and unspoken feelings getting a little too close to the surface. Y'know)

We could've had such tender little 'tending to each other's wounds' scene back at Sharon's. Could've excused it as a 'call it a mission debrief' thing since we know they don't go past mutual 'You good?'s at that point.

It would've been so easy to slip in and have it still be platonic (or definitely not lol) and fit into the episode smoothly, canon compliant(ish). Sam and Bucky definitely needed an extra conversation at that point with no third parties interfering (like Zemo or Walker or Raynor).

I admit this is mainly because I'm just a sucker for the 'tenderly patching up each other's wounds' trope. Sue me. 😅🤣🥰

#tfatws #missing scenes #sambucky #sam wilson #bucky barnes #i really wish i could write fics but all my headcanons link together so i'd never finish anything i could conceivably post #how do y'all do it!? 😅😭

[jemgirl86]

Let me get this straight, in your ideal version of TFATWS:

The opening would be about Steve not staying in the past so that he and Bucky can “get back together,” even though they were absolutely never together in the first place, thus making them the focus.

You would then have Steve and Sam (two people who are best friends btw) get into it over the shield, because even in your fantasies for a “better” show, Steve would be a crappy friend to Sam.

Then you have Sam still needing money and going through the racist loan stuff. Mind you, this is your fantasy version of the show, right? So you could have Sam be financially fine (like Scott, Clint, Bucky, and, well, every other supe post Endgame), but, no, he still has to have that extra bit of bad luck.

Then Joaquin is what? Randomly and vaguely homophobic for some reason????

And ep 1 ends with Steve… apologizing but then telling Sam about the government trying to take the shield, which implies he wants/expects Sam to do something about it?

Oh IKYFL 😭😭

Stickies remain unhinged I see.

I mean, okay, on the one hand, who am I to judge anyone’s headcanons?

On the other hand…

#sam wilson #tfatws #like look don’t throw sam in your sticky nonsense #or joaquin for that matter #because that honestly could’ve just been a post about how you wished steve and bucky hooked up after endgame #like… why is sam in it lmao #don’t try to disguise a sticky fic by acting like these ideas would someone be more respectful of sam 🤪

[thatmexisaurusrex]

for the would you rather 2: Quiet Pining or Shameless Flirting (thanks for playing!)

2: Quiet Pining or Shameless Flirting

Awwww, thanks for making the game. Since I've already done Shameless Flirting, I'll do Quiet Pining this time 😆 Enjoy! 🥰

***

Quiet Pining

Sam lay on the wooden deck of The Paul and Darlene. He could feel himself breathing with the movement of the waves. Smell the salt air in every deep inhale. Watched the haze of clouds above him.

It wasn't a beautiful day.

It was overcast and a little too muggy.

But Sam didn't care. He liked this. This felt like home.

"I could live here forever," whispered Bucky up at the sky.

They were taking a break. A small break between fixing things on the boat as they did every Saturday now ever since Bucky moved to Delacroix.

Sam treasured these little moments. These points in time where it was just him and Bucky, alone on the boat. Sometimes joking. Sometimes, listening to Marvin Gaye. Sometimes, in comfortable silence.

Sam forgot how easy it was to be with Bucky before this. Before his ghosting Sam. Before how he treated Sam those first few weeks of talking. Before Bucky needed to really work to make Sam trust him again.

How easy it was in Europe. In Birnin Zana. When Bucky living in Delacroix felt like a pipe dream. When Sam moving back home felt like a fantasy.

Sam missed this. His heart ached for silent moments like this where they just smiled at each other.

When Sam felt how much he loved this man.

How much this man probably loved him back.

But still.

Sam needed time before he could admit that. To even trust Bucky again like that.

Sam was sure they would get there, though.

"What?" whispered Bucky curiously, his shirt completely askew as he lay next to Sam on the deck.

"Nothing," said Sam as he stood up, "Let's get back to work."

***

send me one of these would you rather and I’ll make a lil SamBucky micro fic

#sambucky #sam wilson #bucky barnes #sambucky fic #domestic fluff #post-tfatws #the paul and darlene #fixing the boat #pre relationship #my fic #quiet pining

[acabecca]

Timeless // Jas x Bucky (x)

Even if we'd met on a crowded street in 1944 And you were headed off to fight in the war You still would've been mine We would've been timeless I would've read your love letters every single night And prayed to God you'd be coming home all right And you would have been fine We would've been timeless 'Cause I believe that we were supposed to find this So even in a different life, you still would've been mine We would've been timeless

taglist: @sgtbuckyybarnes @julieelliewrites @scherbatskybish @if-you-onlyknew @hiddenqveendom @chrissymunson @eddiemunscns @steveshcrringtons @stanshollaand @starcrossedjedis

jas taglist: @suethor

please let me know if you want to be added/removed from taglists!

#ocappreciation #fyeahsuperverseocs #marvel oc #tfatws oc #bucky barnes x oc #bucky barnes fanfiction #jas james #jas x bucky #fic: band of thieves #series: long live #i know it’s been months since i posted anything oc related and over a year since i posted anything for jas! #apparently speak now just inspires me #ok bye

[neonovember]

tides

thoughts of bucky and sarah have been rattling in my brain for too long. no i cant start a new series, yes i will consume every single crumb they give us of them. (i mean just look at our man, he needs her).

bucky barnes x sarah wilson

-

Louisiana is sinking. That’s what Sarah thinks, as she drives back from St Orleans taking the road that winds up and twists into her home of Delacroix. Not the decadent blues that fall heavy on her tongue as she whispers along with the lyrical soundscape of her beloved home. Not the way the unrelenting sun beats heavy on her shoulders. And definitely not the head strong mass of muscle who’s surprisingly very good at playing hide and seek sleeping on her old beaten couch.

Yes, she is thinking about the future of Louisiana’s sinkage. That’s what she convinces herself, she has done the part of the dutiful civilian, using the god awful cartoon straws that turn to mush by the second sip, set up recycling boxes near the waste bin. Participated in local cleanups, followed the hashtags and discourse, the whole lot. So she is determined to put her mind to the near cataclysmic disaster of the climate warming.

But the drum of her fingers against her steering wheel lulls her back to dark curls and the open mouthed laughter of James.

Like a tide. Always.

@fleurdelouve my adoration for this ship!

#james bucky barnes #bucky barnes #sarah wilson #bucky barnes x sarah wilson #neowrites #fleur de louve #sarahbucky #yes i no indeed ship and fuck do they fit so good together #marvel #bucky barnes fluff #sarah wilson fluff #tfatws #the falcon and the winter soldier #marvel fic #marvel drabble #sarahbucky drabble #ignore me whilst i spam post #fleurdelouve

[yuklaa]

the boy who cried ghost

pairing: sambucky

word count: 44,370

rating: T

tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, grief and trauma processing, Mutual Pining, Sam Wilson centric, enemy-roommates to frenemies to "a couple of guys" to Pathetic Yearners to (FINALLY) lovers

summary:

“I won’t laugh.” Bucky straightens out both his back and his expression and scoots closer, knee colliding with Sam’s own. He keeps it there; it feels hot and solid, even through the kevlar. “C’mon, I promise. Just tell me.”

Sam turns it over in his head for a long moment. Swallows hard. Rubs his palms across his thighs.

“Okay,” he says, looking away. “Do you believe in ghosts, man?”

Bucky laughs, the asshole.

Sam has been haunted all his life. This is the first time he's ever thought of telling anyone about it.

read on AO3

#sambucky #winterfalcon #sambucky fic #winterfalcon fic #tfatws #fatws #the falcon and the winter soldier #HOLY SHIT this is the longest thing ive ever written #it feels so good to finally post it!!!! #my writing

[six-demon-bag]

know you got my blood running: chapter 2

Pairing: Bucky Barnes/John Walker

Summary: Bucky and Walker clash again after a meeting.

Rating: Explicit

Tags: Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Hate Sex, hatefrotting, Episode: s01e05 Truth (The Falcon and the Winter Soldier TV), BitingEnemies to Enemies, hate to want you, Come Eating, Post-Canon, Rough Sex, No Lube

Word count: 1359

Link: ch2: to use and be used

Full fic: know you got my blood running

Excerpt: 

The silence is heavy with electricity like a building storm where they’re pressed chest to chest, breathing in tandem. The heat from Walker’s body burns through him and he hates how much he wants to lean into it. He hasn’t been this close to someone since he last saw Walker. Walker waits, watching Bucky’s face with his lips just barely parted. Bucky wants to hold out and not say the single word that will sink him, but he’s too weak.

#winterwalker #john walker #bucky barnes #tfatws #the falcon and the winter soldier #post canon #hate sex #pwp #ao3 #sixdemon fic #i have no idea where this fic is going

[burberrycanary]

Lost Vocabularies that Might Express (The Memory of These Broken Impressions) ∘ a Post-TFATWS Stucky Fix-it

Stucky, Endgame Fix-it, Road Trip Get Together

Bucky presses him up against the inside of the door. All Steve can do is drop his bag, get his hands into Bucky’s thick soft hair, and let Bucky kiss him stupid. 

Bucky tries to wind the kiss down and pull back, though his warm hand keeps cupping, dragging, smoothing over Steve from jaw to shoulder and Bucky falls deeper in the tilted press of open mouths with a groan that makes Steve tug a fistful of his hair but not hard. He wants to feel Bucky tip up his chin, leaning back into his touch and exposing the line of his throat to Steve’s mouth for slow kisses dragged down, jawline to collarbone, where Steve lightly sets his teeth. Bucky shivers.

Read Chapter 3 on AO3

And a big thanks to my betas @village-skeptic​​, @booksandabeer​​ and @zenaidamacrouras1​​ 🥰

#stucky #stucky fic #steve x bucky #steve x bucky fic #steve/bucky #steve/bucky fic #stevebucky #stevebucky fic #steve rogers #bucky barnes #endgame fix-it #endgame fix-it fic #post-tfatws #post-TFATWS fic #new chapter! #lost vocabularies that might express #the existential loneliness of steven g. rogers #bucky barnes needs a hug #otp: till the end of the line #otp: even when I had nothing I had you #steve makes better choices #he's trying folks

[bisamwilson]

When Sam pulls into the driveway, Bucky’s on the roof.

It’s still warm in Delacroix, warm enough he’s got on a short sleeved shirt with his tight skinny jeans, and both the sun and the already plugged in Christmas lights sitting in a jumble around him glint off his arm.

“Thought you said November 1st was too early for Christmas decorations, baby?” Sam calls out once he walks up closer to the house. He puts a hand across his eyes to keep the sun out of them while he looks up at his boyfriend. “You were literally complaining about it at the store just yesterday.”

Bucky finishes untangling the lights and starts clipping them up, and Sam’s a little impressed he even went so far as to get clips instead of just using nails. “Putting up Christmas lights this early is ridiculous—we haven’t even gotten to Thanksgiving yet, Sammy, and Sarah’s cooking deserves a higher place of honor than the fake Santa on our rooftop,” he half-yells, half-grumbles back, still hanging the colorful lights with care. “But you love the way they look, and I heard you humming that All I Want for Christmas Is You song while you were making coffee with peppermint creamer this morning.”

Sam’s smile softens, and he waits for whatever grumpy follow up Bucky’s going to finish his answer with since he only ever allows himself to be all lovey-dovey and sweet in the middle of his sentences.

“Besides, if I didn’t do it today, you would’ve tried, and we would’ve ended up with twelve strands of lights irreparably tangled together instead of on our gutters.”

There it is, Sam thinks, rolling his eyes and wondering how Bucky can sound both so grumpy and so very fond at the same time. “I had that situation completely under control last year, Buck,” he lies, as if he weren’t halfway to throwing out all the old lights and buying new ones himself before Bucky came home with a dozen more boxes of them unprompted.

Bucky laughs as he finishes hanging his strand of lights, walking back over to the ladder and starting his descent back to the ground. Sam grabs the ladder for support on autopilot.

He waits until Bucky’s close to the ground to cheekily ask, “Does all this mean you’re going to turn the AC down to absolutely freezing levels and put up our cute fake tree with me while I turn on a Christmas movie and make some hot chocolate?”

Bucky gives him a droll look for only a moment before hopping off the ladder and pulling him in. He takes some mistletoe out of his pocket and dangles it above their heads before kissing Sam as deep and slow as he dares while they’re still very visible in their front yard. “Best part of Christmas, the mistletoe,” he says when he pulls away.

Sam lets himself be playfully dragged to the front door and patiently waits as Bucky hangs the mistletoe just inside the front landing, just far enough in that they can close the door.

And he does, promptly, before pushing Bucky up against it and wrapping his arms around his neck. He glances up at the mistletoe. “Merry Christmas, Buck.”

“Merry Christmas, sweetheart,” Bucky replies against his lips.

The tree can wait a few hours, Sam thinks.

#i originally posted this in mysu but it was cute and i don't plan on adding more so it's here #sambucky #onlysambucky #only sambucky #winterfalcon #otp: i’m coming with you #buckysam #sam wilson x bucky barnes #sam x bucky #sambucky fic #sambucky ficlet #sambucky fanfic #sam wilson #bucky barnes #marvel #mcu #the falcon and the winter soldier #tfatws #mak writes #christmas

[spinningintheshadows]

Missing You — A Bucky Barnes Series

“You’ll be missing out and we’ll be missing you” - “Missing You” by All Time Low

or the ten times James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes visited his mothers grave.

Post TFATWS Stepdad!Bucky x Wife!OFC (Elizabeth “Elsie” Moran Barnes)

coming soon

If you’d like to be added to the tag list, just shoot me an ask. As for now my taglist is just my wife @teelagurl558 who gets everything I post anyway 😂.

#marvel cinematic universe #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x oc #bucky barnes x original female character #stepdad!bucky #stepdad! Bucky Barnes #angst #fluff #bucky barnes fic #bucky Barnes angst #bucky barnes fluff #sebastian stan #bucky barnes series #post tfatws #cue cute Uncle Sam

[sigloverofwords]

Callsign: KINGPIECE//Chapter One

I watched Top Gun: Maverick at the height of my Marvel hyperfixation and I'm about to make it everyone's problem

Tags/Read First on Ao3

There are few things as peaceful as light snowfall deep in the Siberian forest. Even the birds were nestled away, leaving nothing to break the perfect quiet.

Except you.

Your Stark-Saab White Hawk screamed through the sky just above the treeline, blasting snow and trees back like water.

Strapped securely into your seat, you grinned against your oxygen mask. Pushing forward, you poured on the speed, your afterburners roaring behind you. The whole aircraft shook as you pushed for the next Mach marker. In your ear, above the rattling of the airplane and jarring of your teeth, your radio crackled.

“Kingpiece, this is Command, come in.”

You blew past a lake, sending a spray of icy water dozens of feet into the air behind you.

“Command, this is King,” you replied.

“We have the data we need, return to base.”

“Copy, returning to base.”

Easing up on the stick, you reined in the speed of your jet and climbed into the sky as you brought it into a lazy turn. You weren’t in a rush to get back to base, so you maintained a respectable supersonic speed on your return trip. In your F-39 helmet, you could see video feeds from underneath and behind the plane, covering all your blindspots. If you let yourself believe, for a few seconds, it was like you were flying alone, with no aircraft or command crew or base to return to. Just you and the open sky and absolute, total freedom. A couple of minutes later a much less official voice came through your headset.

“You really gonna make me wait, girlie?”

You gasped in excitement.

“Flyboy! Or, should I say, Captain America. That you?”

A warm chuckle sounded in your ear.

“Sure is, and I got someone here who wants to meet you.”

Another voice murmured in the background, with your friend turning away from the mic to tell them off before returning.

“Now, you gonna drag your ass or you gonna put that super jet to work?”

You laughed, eyes sparkling as you glanced over the HUD in your helmet before priming the afterburners.

“Just you wait and see,” you replied, flipping a few switches and feeling the rumble of the airplane pitch up beneath you. In a matter of minutes, the snowy forest fell away, sheer cliffs disappearing beneath you as you raced out over open water. Massive ice caps floated by on choppy ocean waves. Checking your navigation readings, you adjusted course slightly. Despite seeing nothing but the deadly Arctic Ocean around you, you lowered the landing gear and began to slow, dropping close enough to the water to scare a seal off its floating ice pad. A tap of a button opened your comm line to your Landing Signal Officer.

“Kingpiece one and only, White Hawk, Ball on instruments, state three point five,” you rattled off, informing the LSO that you were coming in for a landing. 

“Roger, ball,” the LSO responded, “Deck is steady.”

You fell silent as your focus sharpened.

Trying to land on the sixth-gen aircraft carrier you called home made your stomach drop every time, without fail. You had to rely on your instruments, with nothing but an icy ocean ahead of you as you prepared to land. You had only a split second to roll into the groove on your approach, but you managed it every time, even if it still made you want to throw up.

One second you were flying across a lonely vista of nothing, and the next your view shimmered and a massive aircraft carrier appeared before you. Quickly lining up the optical landing system, keeping the amber-colored ball light lined up with the green datum lights, you adjusted your angle of attack, rolling into the groove with practiced perfection. Although you had slowed down, you were still going around 150 miles per hour, and every single movement was imperative at this speed. The amber light guiding you in began to shine red, so you increased your jet’s power a little, bringing yourself up just enough to skate past the first arresting wire. Your tailhook caught the second wire, which snapped and shook behind you as you were jerked around in your seat. The straps dug hard into your shoulders, your body protesting the change from over 13 feet a second to a full stop in under three seconds.

You unsnapped your oxygen mask, already unbuckling yourself as your canopy raised. By the time you jumped from the cockpit, legs a little shaky as they adjusted to being used again, you had your helmet off and tucked under your arm as you scanned the busy deck for your friend.

The loudspeakers around the deck crackled to life.

“The hell was that, Kingpiece?” a furious voice blasted over you. “Second wire?”

You grinned and shook your head, breaking into a jog across the flight deck towards the Ready Room, where you figured Sam would be waiting. Sure enough, you stepped into the spartan Ready Room and there he was, smiling so hard you couldn’t help but return it.

“Hey sailor,” he said with a nod. “Tough landing?”

“Birdbrain,” you replied cheekily, tilting your head in greeting to the man hidden partially behind Sam before turning to the other side of the room.

As there were no other scheduled landings for a while, your LSO was there, bouncing his leg from the desk where he was perched, little brown notebook in hand.

“Paddles, how’d I do?” you asked, the nickname imbued with more deference and respect than one might expect. He simply sighed, standing and flipping open his notebook. Every page was covered in a series of scrawled letters almost unintelligible to anyone other than him.

“You were acceptable, Kingpiece,” he said after a moment. “Came in a little low, pulled up but you were too fast and you hit the number two wire.”

You nodded, filing this information away. It was a perfectly good landing for anyone else, but you weren’t good.

You were the best .

“King, too fast?” Sam asked, striding over and slinging an arm around your shoulders. “This girl? No way.”

Laughing, you pushed him off of you.

“Shut up, Wilson, I’m debriefing.”

Your LSO just shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“You’re dismissed.”

“ Yes !” you exclaimed under your breath, turning to give Sam a high five as Paddles made his escape. 

“Did you see my Hawk?” you asked as soon as the door shut, excitement all over your face. Sam let out an appreciative whistle.

“Did I? That thing is heavenly beauty bottled in an aircraft. How long have you been testing it?”

“Just two weeks, I swear, I’m in love.”

A low cough broke through your nerd-out haze and you suddenly remembered there was someone else in the room with you. Quickly, you straightened and turned to greet Sam’s friend properly.

“Lieutenant Anthea Evans,” you said, holding out a hand and sweeping your gaze up and down the man before you. Right away, you could tell he was ex-military. His stance, the way he kept his back to the wall, and the controlled power in his grip as he shook your hand told you he had combat experience. His non-regulation hair and stubble told you he was not currently enlisted.

“Seargent James Barnes,” he replied automatically, then corrected himself. “Or, just Bucky.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Bucky,” you said. He seemed nervous, angling his body so his left side was away from you, shoulders tense beneath a loose leather jacket.

“What brings you around these parts?” you asked both men, stepping back to lean on the currently-unoccupied desk. “I’m not exactly in the neighborhood.”

“Not quite,” Sam chuckled. “We wanted to come see you.”

You raised an eyebrow.

“Sam,” you said. “We’re currently standing on a top-secret extra-governmental aircraft carrier running test flights of a cutting edge jet over territory that is not our own. None of us should even be here, so despite my stunning personality, I don’t think you’re risking ex-communication from the US government and possible capture and execution by a hostile world power just to drop in for a visit.”

Bucky cut in.

“Have you been watching the news?”

“Honestly?” you replied. “Not really. I spend most of my time with my bird or my crew. Shore leave isn’t really a thing for us, so I prefer to focus on what I can control over fretting about whatever the Five-Sided Puzzle Palace is doing.”

Bucky shot a confused look at Sam.

“The Pentagon,” Sam explained, before continuing. “Well, there’s been some pretty serious stuff going on.”

“When isn’t there?” you joked.

“Anthea, listen. This is serious.”

You sobered at Sam’s tone. Of course, you knew it was. Why else would Sam just show up on your super secure base out of the blue? 

“I’m listening,” you said, crossing your arms across your chest. 

Sam paced across the room for a moment before speaking again.

“Six months ago, half the world population came back.”

“I know,” you gave him a wry smile. “I was one of the people holding everything down until y’all came back.”

He shot you a longsuffering glare, but there wasn’t any heat behind it.

“ Obviously ,” he continued pointedly, “there’s been a spike in international incidents since then. Crime is through the roof, there are hundreds of thousands of displaced people—”

“Sam,” you cut him off gently. “I know this. Get to the point.”

Straightening, he stood before you, almost nervous despite his confident stance.

“I’m putting together a team,” he said. “The Avengers don’t exist anymore, but that doesn’t mean the reason they assembled is gone. Even with S.W.O.R.D. and S.H.I.E.L.D. operating again, the threats against regular people keep growing. We can protect people from the interdimensional alien baddies, but that means jack to the regular guy on the ground if he’s getting extorted for protection money by gangs of enhanced individuals.”

You tilted your head, eyebrows drawing together a little.

“Not that I don’t agree, Sam,” you said. “But why are you telling me this? You know my deal.”

A twinkle entered Sam’s eye.

“You know, being Captain America doesn’t just come with a fancy suit and shield.”

Your jaw dropped.

“You’re kidding.”

Sam grinned widely.

“I’m not.”

Jumping to your feet, you grabbed Sam’s shoulders.

“You’re kidding.”

He laughed at your energetic antics.

“I’m not. We need a pilot, and you know you’re the best. Job’s yours if you want it, you just have to stay out of trouble.”

You let out a decidedly un-military squeal, smiling so wide your cheeks hurt.

“Sam!”

Words failing you, you threw your arms around him, hugging him tightly. He returned the embrace, chuckling.

“I thought you might like to get off this boat and start flying some real missions again,” he said once you had calmed down to a containable level of enthusiasm.

“Would I ever,” you gushed. “Don’t get me wrong, I love my White Hawk, and I’m going to miss it like crazy, but there’s only so many mach flight tests a pilot can do before you start feeling like it’s Groundhog Day all over again.”

“The good news just keeps coming, then,” Sam declared. “Because part of your transfer orders is to return the White Hawk to Stark Industries for further testing and experimentation.”

“Hand her over to another pilot?” you asked, almost offended at the idea of another pair of hands on the controls of the fastest, most agile aircraft you’d ever had the pleasure of flying.

Sam smiled.

“I didn’t say that.”

It took a moment for the news to sink in, but a moment later you were whooping and dancing around the tiny Ready Room, pulling Sam into a spin before you let go and bump into his silent companion, Bucky.

Bucky flinched back at your touch, but his scowl down at you slid right off your back.

“You hear that sergeant?” you ask him. “I get to leave AND I’m takin’ the White Hawk with me!”

You let out another cheer, ignoring Bucky’s lack of response and narrowed eyes directed towards Sam.

After letting you celebrate for another minute, Sam caught your arm, laughing.

“Alright there, squid, bring it down.”

You settle down pretty easily, just happy to have a reason to be happy.

“You won’t believe how glad I am to get off these four acres of sovereign US soil,” you said. “Been cooped up here far too long.”

“Maybe it finally taught you something about responsibility,” Sam sighed lightly, but his tone told you he wasn’t holding out much hope. You just scoffed in reply.

“When are we shipping out?”

“As soon as you can get your bags. You’re the reason we’re here, we got you, so we can get going on your ready.”

You were already heading for the door.

“See you in five, boys,” you declare, throwing them a wink and a smile. “You better let me fly us out of here.”

“Wouldn’t dream of doing otherwise,” Sam replied, and you shut the door behind you, leaving them in the sparsely furnished, grey room.

“So,” Sam said, turning to Bucky, who had a rigid spine and unreadable mask firmly fixed on his face. “What d'ya think?”

Bucky slowly raised an eyebrow.

“It’s like being trapped in a room with an overexcited puppy,” he grumbled. “How old’s this kid?”

“Old enough to know what the hell she’s doing,” Sam answered, respect and admiration tinging his words. “She trained under the greatest pilot of the last hundred years. He taught her everything he knew, then she added some tricks of her own.”

Sensitive conversation over, the pair exited the ready room and began walking back towards the deck. 

“Why do they call her King?” Bucky asked, hair ruffling in the icy wind as they stepped away from the shelter of the hall and onto the tarmac.

“That’s her callsign, Kingpiece.”

At Bucky’s confused glance, Sam elaborated.

“You know how in chess you have a king?”

“Yeah, but you also have a queen. Wouldn’t that make more sense?”

“What happens if you lose the queen?”

“You’re down a huge advantage, she’s the most tactically agile piece on the board.”

“And what happens if you lose the king?”

Bucky hesitated.

“You can’t. If you lose the king then the game’s over.”

Sam shielded his eyes from the weak northern sun as he spotted you striding across the tarmac towards them, two duffle bags slung across your chest and a third in hand.

“If you lose the king the game is over,” he repeated. “But as long as you have the king piece the game is still in play. Until it falls, neither loss nor victory is certain, but you know you have a chance.”

Notes & Fun facts: King's White Hawk is based off of a cutting-edge jet prototype, the Boeing-Saab T-7 Red Hawk

"Kingpiece one and only, White Hawk, Ball on instruments, state three point five" I took some license with this. Still, basically, it's a "ball call" that translates to Kingpiece (pilot callsign) flying alone in a White Hawk (airplane identifier) can see the Ball (which is used to guide pilots into landing on the carrier) with 3,500 pounds of fuel. Obviously, King couldn't see the ball at this time due to the cloaking tech on the carrier, so I added "on instruments". A ball call is the pilot's radio call to the Landing Signal Officer (LSO)

The voice King hears on the loudspeaker yelling at her for catching the second wire (as opposed to the ideal third wire) is the air boss, the commander in charge of the flight deck and flight patterns on air carriers.

Paddles is the common nickname for Landing Security Officers, who are known for their little notebooks filled with acronyms from which they grade every landing on the carrier.

I hope you enjoyed this silly little thing! I have some ideas of where I want it to go, and I enjoy researching lingo/slang/reading LSO handbooks at 5am because I can't sleep and this is where my life has led me.

#callsign: kingpiece #cskp #cskp ch1 #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #winter soldier #the winter soldier #tfatws #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #top gun #bucky/you #bucky/reader #bucky barnes reader insert #post tfatws fic #top gun maverick

[unadulteratedhacylover]

Sarah/Steve WIP sneak peek

“I know who you are,” she growls at him.

Sarah stops in front of him and before he can parse out what is happening, her palm connects solidly with his cheek, the sound of the slap like a thunderclap to his ears. His head whips to the side from the force, more in reflex than actual pain. He doesn’t move, too in shock at the action. But there’s no time for him to process it because she’s pushing against his chest, trying futilely to move him.

"You were supposed to protect him. He’s the only family I had left and now he’s gone.”

Her voice breaks on the last word and a sob escapes her lips. She crumples to the ground and Steve goes with her, catching her as she falls. She fights him for a brief moment before giving in to her grief, burying her face in his chest as she weeps. He closes his eyes as he cradles her against his chest, his own tears threatening to fall.

Sarah’s right. He failed Sam and Bucky. He failed Wanda. He failed everyone.

Sarah clings to him like he’s her only lifeline and he lets her. Let’s her take everything she needs because it’s the least he can give this woman, the bare minimum of what he owes her.

#current wip #sarah x steve #steve rogers #sarah wilson #post infinity war fic #tfatws fic

[thatmexisaurusrex]

I’m actually really excited about a SamBucky fic I’m either going to post tomorrow or the day after. It’s called In the Gulf and it’s going to be about Sam’s life post-Blip, pre-TFATWS. It's Sam-centric and Wilson Family-centric, but there's going to be some good SamBucky angst in there too and a sequel fic for it that will lean more into SamBucky. Here's a little snippet of the fic:

There was a mural. At the airport. Flowers collected on the floor under it. Wings. Giant red wings blooming from Sam’s back. Sam in his Falcon uniform. I know some part of you might want to give up hope. But this is our moment. Our chance to turn things around. Displayed above him. When had Sam said that? Was there a clip of it somewhere? He had to have said it, it sounded familiar. Said it on a mission. Said it somewhere. Sam felt like he’d never completely get rid of all the fog in his mind. The fog that came with him when he woke up. It never even felt like waking up. It was as if he’d never gone but something had changed all his surroundings, had made his brain feel like it was tossed into a blender and turned to mush. A mural of him in the airport For Sam. With a quote from Sam. Made for those lost during the Blip. Names scrawled everywhere. Pictures of people lost. In an airport. It wasn’t just people who were turned to dust. It was also the people who died in the ensuing chaos. People no one ever found again. So many people were lost after. Sam stepped away from the mural. He gathered himself before taking out his phone and snapping a picture. He turned back to his texts to Sarah.

#sambucky #sambucky fic #sam wilson #bucky barnes #wilson family #family feels #angst #sam wilson centric #post blip #pre tfatws #idk i'm excited about this one