In order to post this self-indulgent bullshit in which characters from my various fictional fanthings meet each other. Like, it’s just Bucky and Steve from Ain’t No Grave meeting some Buckys and Steves from Except it Abide. That’s it. That’s the plot. So like, I guess you should read it if you’re kinky like that. There’s cussing, lots of sex jokes, and some light violence, but the only other naughtiness it contains is how gotdamn masturbatory writing fanfiction of ones own fanfiction is. So like, read it if you’re kinky like that, I guess!
No Sacrifice Required by cleo4u2, xantissa – Hydra thinks that sacrificing Bucky to an old god will save them. Steve an tentacled god believes in consent and does not approve of forced, he sacrifice saves Bucky. It’s heartwarming and my favorite.
These ARE The Tentacles You’re Looking For by die_traumerei – Steve is a many-tentacled octopus-god who really just wants people to stop sacrificing to him. Having found himself adopting a brain-damaged but utterly charming human, Steve sets out to figure out what the hell to do with and for him. Featuring cuddles, building trust, lots of sex (following the trust being built)
Bleached Bones and Fallen Snow by leveragehunters (Monkeygreen) – Steve is death. Steve meets Bucky in war and falls in love. If he’d known where it would lead him, where it would lead both of them, he would have tried harder to resist.
Bucky
You Can R’Lyeh on Me written by insomnia1999 art by Quarra – A misunderstanding traps Tentacle God Bucky under the ice with Steve. This is also heartwarming and also a favorite.
Lovecraft in Brooklyn by littleblackfox – Eldrich Bucky needs a hug. Steve gets a new roommate. -“Buck?” “Uh-huh?” “Did you think we were already dating?” Bucky looks up at him. “In my defense, you had found and furnished a burrow, and once established called out for a mate.” He sniffs.
Rise by SleepsWithCoyotes – Turns out that when Hydra had Bucky they put him with an Eldritch god who modified him. Later when going through old Hydra bases the Avengers find Charlie. A horrifying tentacle god and good friend of Bucky Barns. Who knew? Fantastically fun.
Earlier, an Anon asked me to name my top five Stucky fics and I obviously had a crisis, so I’m going to name some more that absolutely need to be mentioned here:
This doesn’t even include all the fantastic things I’ve been reading for the CA RBB and I’m positive I’m missing a bunch. I’ll probably do another rec at some point in the future. But these are my OTHER fav Stucky fics.
Steve has a very minimalist, modern office – everything is white and chrome, and there are beautifully-arranged vases of lilies all over the place. When Bucky rolls in with mud-crusted ten year-old Docs and a grungy indie band t-shirt so worn you can practically see his nipple piercings through it, he sticks out.
Whenever Steve gets the call that Bucky’s around, Steve drops everything and prances over to him like an over-excited retriever. Clients think it’s endearing to see their wedding planner so in love up until they get a good look at Bucky. Then they’re just confused.
Steve has convinced more than one couple to get wedding tattoos at Bucky’s shop. Bucky grouses like it’s a problem, but he secretly loves doing it, and has been caught doodling ideas for he and Steve in the margins of his notebooks.
Nobody knows it, but Steve has a full back tattoo, done by Bucky. He had been terrified of needles, but had been so taken with Bucky when they first met that he just dove in, just for an excuse to keep coming back to the shop. When Steve admitted that to Bucky a few months after they started dating, Bucky nearly smacked him. “You spent $3000 just to hang out with me? I would’ve been happy with a cup of coffee.”
(Steve thinks it was totally worth it.)
Steve is organized to a fault, but he has no brain for numbers. At the end of each month, Bucky pulls his hair back, puts on his glasses, and spends the afternoon crunching numbers at Steve’s office. It’s everyone’s favorite day, because Steve will just sort of sit at his desk and stare dreamily over at Bucky. Bucky will shoot him a glare every so often and tell him to knock it off, but everyone knows he loves it.
Sometimes Bucky tags along to weddings when Steve needs an extra helping hand. At some point they’ll end up slow dancing together in a corner, and more than one wedding photographer has caught pics of them whispering sweet things into each other’s ear and put them as examples of their best work on their website.
Bucky wants a big wedding. Huge. Monumental.
Steve wants to elope. He’ll bring Sam, Bucky will bring Becca, and with the money they’ll save they’ll fuck off to Napa Valley or Paris or the Grand Canyon for a month.
They promise each other that they won’t ask the other to get married until they figure out some kind of compromise.
That is until Steve finds Bucky’s secret wedding Pinterest board one night while surfing the net and sighs. He goes out and buys rings the next day, and tells him they’ll do a beautiful destination wedding, wherever he wants, however big he wants, because he’s a sap and he just wants to marry this guy already, even if he’s an overly romantic sap who isn’t completely disillusioned with wedding parties.
But Steve does his damnedest to make sure that their wedding is the most beautiful wedding he’s ever seen. For Bucky’s sake.
Basically punk!Bucky and skinny!Steve domestic modern AU where no one ever imagine that they’re together (not even in a romantic way, just that they might know each other???) Checkout lady is mind-blown by the idea that this nice small boy might know this big scary guy (she has noooo ideeeaaaa)
Sketchup is a blessing and I’m never doing background any other way again. Not v happy with the colors but I had no idea what to do, so i’m posting it like that. Full view please, and don’t repost! Thanks! ♥
For @kiriei, who has a cold (warning for frank and frequent discussions
of snot, wildly inaccurate discussions of physics, and fluff).
It’s Snot Funny
“I think there’s a wormhole in my sinuses,” Steve
pressed a finger between his eyes and poked, like he was trying to feel for it,
“that leads to the snot dimension.”
Bucky didn’t laugh. He wasn’t going to laugh. He wasn’t
going to… He burst out laughing and had to quickly put Steve’s soup on the
bedside table before it spilled. “There’s not,” he managed to get out,
“a wormhole to the snot dimension
in your sinuses.”
The wounded baby deer look Steve turned on him, all big, fever
bright eyes and confusion, made him sit on the edge of the bed and gently run
his fingers through Steve’s sweaty hair. “How do you know?” Steve
whispered, pressing into Bucky’s touch like a cat.
“Trust me, sweetheart.” He brushed his metal thumb
across Steve’s cheek, leaned in and kissed his forehead. Steve’s skin was too
warm and clammy under his lips, but the way he briefly closed his eyes, the tiny ghost
of a smile, made it worth it. “Sit up and drink your soup.”
“Okay.” Steve shuffled around and Bucky
rearranged the covers, tucking a pillow behind him, pulling him
forward a bit to wrap another blanket around his shoulders before letting him
lean back and pressing the mug into his hands. “S’good,” he said
after taking a sip.
“It’s just the kind you pour boiling water into.”
Steve lifted one shoulder. “Still good.” He sipped
his soup slowly, because Bucky knew his throat was sore, gazing into it contemplatively.
He had to stop several times to blow his nose, staring in disgusted betrayal at
each tissue before hurling it into the garbage can.
Bucky settled next to him, leaning against the headboard, one
ankle hooked over Steve’s leg, humming quietly under his breath. However you
measured it—time, life, experiences—it had been a long time since Bucky had looked
after a sick Steve, and back then it’d been a lot scarier, the outcome potentially
so much more dire, if Bucky had failed.
It sucked like hell that Steve was sick, but it was, at the
end of the day, just a cold. A nasty, horrible, can’t-take-anything-for-it-because-nothing-works-on-Steve
cold, but just a cold. And it was kind of nice to look after him. It was kind of
nice that Steve was letting him
without putting up a fight.
“I don’t understand,” Steve said, draining the
last of his soup.
Bucky plucked the mug from his hands and set it on the bedside
table. “Understand what?”
Steve blew his nose for one minutes and thirty seven seconds
(Bucky timed it), going through four tissues, before answering. “Isn’t
there some rule about not creating new stuff?”
“What?”
“You know, you can’t just make new stuff. Everything has
to come from something.” Steve’s eyes were fever bright and he was staring
intently at Bucky, like he was willing him to understand.
After a minute in which Bucky racked his brain, trying to
twist it into a Steve-with-a-fever configuration, he asked, “Are you
talking about the law of conservation of mass?”
“Maybe? Is that the one that means something can’t just
get made out of nothing?”
“Uh, sort of.”
“Then yes. Bucky, my body’s violating the laws of
physics. It’s making snot out of nothing. I don’t think it should do that.”
“It’s not—”
“It’s snot.” Steve grinned at him.
Bucky rolled his eyes. “It’s not, it’s,” he paused, because he had no idea why or how the
body produced snot, “look, I don’t know what it’s making it out of, but
it’s not making it out of nothing.” Steve looked dubious. “Come
here.” He wrapped his arm around Steve and pulled him into his side.
Steve half-heartedly tried to resist. “I’m all gross.
I’ll make you sick.”
“Not like you bein’ gross is anything new,” he
said with a grin and Steve weakly punched his arm. “And you can’t make me
sick. It was just dumb luck you got sick. Bad timing you got exposed to a cold
virus in the, what, ten minutes that HYDRA bullshit ray affected you.”
“But the snot.”
He bit down on a laugh and kissed the top of Steve’s head.
“I don’t care about the snot.”
“But this is super soldier snot.” Steve went
quiet, punctuated only by more nose blowing and more glaring fiercely at what
Bucky had to agree were frankly disgusting tissues. “Maybe it’s a
side-effect of the serum. I can throw the shield and run faster than a car and,
you know, beat up an entire army. And I can produce riversof snot. Lakes of snot. Oceans of snot.”
It was said in his best, most earnest, I am Captain America voice, but it kept cracking like a kid going
through puberty and it was so ridiculous
Bucky was shaking with the effort of not laughing.
“You’re laughing at me.”
“Yeah, I am,” Bucky admitted, “but only a
bit.”
“Fair enough.” Steve closed his eyes and curled
closer to Bucky and Bucky wrapped himself around him as best he could. It
wasn’t the most comfortable thing in the world, being sick didn’t change Steve
from being a mountain of hard muscle, but he didn’t care. He made sure the box
of tissues was on the bed, where Steve could reach them, and bundled the covers
more firmly around him.
Steve was starting to drift off when he mumbled, “Imagine
if a dragon got a cold, living in his cave on top of a mountain. He’d get to
eat so many people.” Bucky wasn’t sure Steve even knew what he was saying,
but he gave a quiet, questioning hum. “‘cause travellers would be, ‘You
said there was not a dragon up here’ just before the dragon chowed down on them.
And the villagers would be, ‘No, we said there was a snot dragon’.” Bucky
stared down at Steve, bemused, gently stroking his back. “We’d probably
have to go and stop him, though. Can’t let a dragon just eat people, even if he’s
got a cold and I feel sorry for him.”
“It’s okay, Steve. Dragons aren’t real, so you don’t
need to worry about it.”
“I’ve got a wormhole to the snot dimension in my
sinuses. I think dragons could be real.”
Bucky gazed up at the ceiling, deeply amused and overwhelmed
with a sudden rush of pure love for
the sick idiot nestled against his chest. “Go to sleep, Steve. You’ll feel
better when you wake up.”
ealdor 