So, about a month ago, I️ wrote my first Captain America fic (Fairytale of New York), and I’ve been doing a deep dive into the bookmarks of the folks who bookmarked my fic (the closest you’re going to get to a “if you liked …” algorithm on AO3). I’ve read 200 Stucky fics I hadn’t read before, and I need to make a new rec list.
These are all Steve/Bucky, with some sort of romantic resolution. The fics I like tend to be Bucky-centric and written in a more novelistic style. I am particularly interested in Bucky dealing with trauma. But I have a pretty wide latitude for what I consider “in-character” especially in AUs.
I meant to write more about each of these, but all of my energy right now is going towards the memoir I’m writing, so I’m posting it as is.
The standouts:
The Crucible by Dreadnought (Post-CA:CW. E. 148k.) Bucky in therapy for PTSD. I cried. A lot.
Thawing by Paint_Stained_Heart (Mundane AU. Bucky and Steve meet as adults. M. 31k.) Bucky is a heroin-addicted vet with PTSD and memory loss.
These Streets ‘verse by Nejinee (Police AU. Acquaintances since childhood. M and E. 51k.) Totally charming with a Brooklyn 99 sweetness. The sex scenes are shockingly hot
Also really good:
Lemon Meringue Lies by Nejinee (Restaurant AU. Best friends since childhood. E.112k.) A lot of solid scene setting. And pining.
Closed Book by AggressiveWhenStartled (Post-CA:CW. Established relationship. E. 39k.) Bucky has amnesia, again. Which makes it sound silly, but it is pretty angsty.
Grind by Claudia_flies (Canon compliant through CA:WS. E. 3k.) Pure smut.
Whip Crack by Quarra (Lovecraftian horror AU. The Winter Soldier exists but the original Steve Rogers died before Project Rebirth. E. 62k. WIP) Steve is a tentacle monster with very little understanding of humans. But that’s OK because the Asset doesn’t realize he’s human.
Stalker by xantissa for mssdare (Post-CA:WS, E. 36k.) This one is super fucked up. Steve is a terrifying stalker, and the Winter Soldier is never going to be Bucky Barnes again. But for me Steve’s obsession with Bucky is a central part of his character, and this fic let’s that play out in all its gory detail.
The world’s tiniest dragon must defend his hoard, a single gold coin, from those who would steal it.
Suggestion: The dragon’s definition of “steal” is somewhat loose. It still allows the coin to be used and bartered and change hands–but on one condition: the dragon must be with it at all times.
They become a familiar sight in the marketplace.
“Here’s your change, ma’am. One gold piece.” The merchant holds out a palm, on top of which rests a tiny, brilliantly colored creature clutching a single gold coin.
“That’s a dragon,” you say dumbly. “One piece… and a dragon.”
“Yes.”
You cautiously reach out and attempt to take your change. You tug. It holds. You tug harder. The dragon lets loose a tiny, protective growl.
“Ma’am–no, ma’am, you have to take the dragon, too.”
“Sorry?”
The seller notes your dubious expression. “Not from around here, are ya?” They shrug. “Them’s the rules. Take the coin, take the dragon.”
They wait expectantly. Wondering how the world has so suddenly gone mad, you slowly, slowly hold out your hand.
The dragon perks right up. It scampers from their palm to yours with the coin clamped in its jaws and scales your sleeve with sharp little claws.
“Have a nice day, ma’am,” the merchant says. “Spend him soon, now, you hear? At another booth, if you can. He likes to travel.”
From its perch upon your shoulder, the dragon lets out a happy trill.
Bonus: the coin eventually passes to the rogue in a group of travelling adventurers. The dragon becomes the mascot of the entire group, and they lay out a small pile of coins for him to sleep on every night, clutching his coin like a teddy bear.
Cleaving through all that there was, all that there had
not been, he came.
Light like a needle, like a blade, piercing through the very
heart of existence—thus was he born.
It was the first birth, and the most painful by far.
The universe of darkness was shattered by his
coming. Nothingness was destroyed by his something, and oblivion was annihilated by his
being.
With him came the possibility of seeing, of knowing, of
things being grasped and felt and touched and defined. With him came pain and joy, impressions, opinions, thoughts, dreams.
When his eyes opened, consciousness came into being.
As he shimmered on those dark waters, the heart of the
void was broken by his beauty.
And God saw the Light, that he was good.
And that, right then, is when God first got worried.
When Natasha took the time to look you up and down, frown with her eyes like you were lacking in some way, and then said “Down Under Coffee on Thursday at 6 pm. He’ll be wearing a festive red sweater with a reindeer. Withhold judgement until you meet him” you went to Down Under Coffee for 6 on Thursday and you looked for someone in a reindeer sweater.
Bucky looks like he’s had a difficult month, what with the eviction notice and all, but that’s not the reason Steve gives for allowing him to stay on his couch.
“You have somewhere to go?” Steve questioned, crossing his arms and attempting to look casual, not like he was worried for Bucky. He stepped into the apartment, ignoring how bare it was.
Bucky paused and gave him an exasperated look. “I’m not completely hopeless.”
A fic spanning from mid-November to early-February.
“Every year I hope Santa turns out to be evil,” Bucky said, his feet hanging over the back of Nat’s couch. He’d been back in Brooklyn for three hours and it felt like he was recharging from the city. Save him from the Midwest, jesus fuck. “It’s on my bucket list of things I want to sleigh. Haha, slay, get it?”
Nat ignored the pun, probably because Bucky used it almost daily around this time of year, and she’d been the one to do it first.
“I always wanted to kill an evil cyborg,” Nat told him, slicking on nail polish.
“What happened to your sweet Camaro?” Stiles asked.
“His sister borrowed it,” Erica said cheerfully. “Drove to Lake Tahoe for the holidays and left him here without transportation and fending for himself.”
This was… perfect, actually. Stiles needed a fake date and Derek needed a drive. “I’ll tell you what, I’ll drive you to and from the party and in return I get to tell Mrs. Gordon you’re my date.”
Something must have poked his Christmas Spirit. It might be the way Hale was watching the proceedings with a scowl on his face, unable to hide what was clear derision. Earlier, his eyes had lifted when Stiles entered the work pen with the presents, and Stiles had been under the impression he had been vaguely pleased. The only thing Stiles could think of that would make someone such a gloomy grump was not getting a gift.
“What?” Hale asked, staring at him through the glass wall that made up the part of his office facing the work area.
“I’ve got something for you!” Stiles said, waving the small rectangular present as he walked in.
“That’s not mine,” Mr. Hale said, staring at the box like it offended him. Then he stared at Stiles like he was offending him more. “You’ve made a mistake.”
“No mistake, sir. It’s a special delivery from magical Hale Holiday Elves.” Stiles gestured to his head. “See the hat. A man wearing this hat makes no mistakes.”
Stiles grew up with his bedroom window overlooking Derek’s bedroom, so when he returns home for the holidays he’s surprised to find a stranger in his nerdy neighbour’s bedroom.
Only, he’s not much of a stranger.
It is Derek Hale, the guy who is going to be his new step brother, if the rumours are true.
ealdor 