Shrunkyclunks (Modern Bucky/Cap Steve) Fic Rec
Hate Sex & Hair Protocol by @maddiewritesstucky - Mature, 1.8k
SHIELD Agent Bucky, UST, Enemies to Lovers (in Steve’s head), Humor
They’re all full of shit, Steve decides.
His team don’t have a clue what they’re talking about, running their mouths about the way he and Bucky look at each other; the tension that seems to be at a constant near-snapping point between them.
'It’s called annoyance' Steve wants to yell in each of their faces, loud and one by one. It’s the pain of having to exist every day in close proximity with someone who drives you out of your fucking mind.
In which Steve discovers that ire and desire may just exist side by side in his brain.
Stop interrupting my grinding series by @rohkeutta - Teen, 2.5k
Nurse Bucky, Wrong Number, Fluff, Humor
“I tried to call Sam,” Captain America says, bewildered. He’s sprinting like Usain Bolt and doesn’t sound even a little out of breath. Fucker. “Who’re you?”
“Someone who’s watching you live on TV,” Bucky tells him as the tiny patriotic figure on the screen takes the turns like he instructed. Bucky should probably be a lot more freaked out about this, but honestly? After a tour in the Middle East and six years as a nurse in New York, even this isn’t enough to ruffle him. One sees a lot of shit in the ER. “Also, you better hang up now, that thing is behind the next bend.”
“Uh, okay,” Captain America says. “Thanks?”
“Whatever,” Bucky says, disconnects the call and turns the TV off to get ready for his shift.
Save a Horse, Ride a Captain by @galwednesday - Teen, 2.7k
War Vet Bucky, Meet Cute, Fluff, Humor, Modern Howlies
Bucky tapped him on the shoulder, swaying back and forth a little as he waited for the man to turn around. “Hello,” he said, and then promptly forgot what else he was going to say, because this guy was fucking beautiful. “Wow. Good face.”
Two of the guy’s friends, a man wearing a suit that fit so well it had to be bespoke and a man with a cute little gap between his front teeth, started cracking up. The petite redhead sitting next to them cocked her head to the side and pulled her phone out of her handbag. Beautiful Face just looked kind of pained, so Bucky redirected. He was a gentleman. He could take a hint. No hitting on beautiful guys who were uncomfortable with that sort of thing, no matter how lickable their jawlines were.
“Hello,” he repeated, doing his best to mind his manners. “I’m very sorry to bother you. Can I have a piggy-back ride?”
You Make My Heart Skip A Beet by @musette22 - Teen, 3.8k
Chef Bucky, POV Outsider, Fluff, Humor
“I made soda bread.”
Steve lets out the 6’2” supersoldier equivalent of a squeak. “Oh, I love soda bread,” he says eagerly, rolling forward on the balls of his feet like he does when he gets excited. “My mom used to make it all the time when I was growing up.”
The tips of Barnes’s ears turn red, and he mutters something that sounds suspiciously like, “I know.”
more under the cut
Cafe Au Écoute by @littlesystems - Teen, 3.8k
Coffee Shop AU
No matter where Steve goes, there's always the chance that he'll overhear a conversation about himself - or rather, Captain America. This coffee shop is no different. The fact that he keeps eavesdropping well past the point of plausible deniability is another matter entirely.
#TweetMeDaddy by StarSpangled - Teen, 4.1k
SHIELD Employee Bucky, Misunderstandings, Crack, Humor
Coulson, for his part, stares up at Bucky with such a betrayed look of frozen horror that Natasha actually goes the extra step and presses another button, capturing the moment and airdropping the photograph to her phone for posterity. When he speaks, his voice comes out as a hoarse whisper. “Why…?” He swallows and starts again, trying for some semblance of normality. “...Why would you tweet something like that?!”
“If you must know, sir,” and somehow he manages to make ‘sir’ come out with the same inflection most people reserve for ‘motherfucking son of a bitch’, “it’s because I have a difficult time doing my job when my job involves monitoring the man with the best fucking ass in the United States of America.” He slowly lowers himself back into his seat until he’s at eye level, making extreme eye contact with Coulson until Coulson turns away to make mortified eye contact in Natasha’s general direction through the one-way glass. Natasha would take another picture, if she weren’t too busy catching Steve’s red-faced sputtering. “Sometimes, I vent to my Twitter followers. Sometimes, it’s about hot men with washboard abs. Can I go now, or do you need a graphic description of how I pleasure myself at night?”
at first chance i'd take the bed warmed by the body by @spacebuck - Explicit, 8.2k
This close, Steve can see exactly how beautiful his hands are. He’s never really noticed before, or at least he’s never really had a reason to notice, but the man’s hands are large, tanned like he works outside all day. There’s an endearing callus on the heel of one of his palms, and Steve can’t quite work out when calluses became endearing.
Steve pauses the video. Swallows hard. Casts his eyes around for anything that’ll keep his mind off the hands on his screen, off the words inked into those hands, the delicate shape of a bird’s wing, the curling edge of a vine.
He looks down. The name of the channel is right there, blaring the man’s name right into Steve’s brain until it feels like he’s known it all along.
OR: the one where Bucky's a youtuber who solves puzzles on camera, and steve's smitten and horny
Came with my cool (I dropped it) by @liionne - Teen, 9.2k
Yoga Instructor Bucky
"When you said I need to loosen up, I didn't think you meant literally."
"I meant it every way. Mentally, emotionally, and physically." Natasha says, and thrusts a yoga mat at him.
there once was a diamond by bloobeary - Teen, 11.3k
"You," Becca seethes, and hits him with a wooden spoon. "Could have told me," Hits him again. "You were dating Captain America." Final hit, Bucky laughs. He supposes he deserves it, giving her no more information than the fact he was bringing his boyfriend to Thanksgiving dinner at her house and then showing up with Steve.
Salt by littleblackfox @thelittleblackfox - Mature, 12k
The cinnamon roll is gone in four bites. Four indecent, jaw-unhinging bites, and Steve sucks the last traces of lemon and icing from his fingers with a low, throaty sound of satisfaction. He glances up at Bucky, who is leaning against the counter and watching him with avid fascination.
“Um…” Steve says around his index finger. There’s still a little icing on the bed of his fingernail, and he stops trying to work it off with his tongue.
“You know those movies where the girl eats an eclair or something, and it’s really, like, sexually charged?” Bucky asks.
Steve pulls his finger out of his mouth. He’s never seen that kind of movie, but the thought of Bucky eating an eclair is certainly… well, it lingers. “Uh?”
“Yeah, well that was the exact opposite.” Steve scowls, and Bucky cackles gleefully. “You are something else, Steve.”
Leg Day by Brokenpitchpipe - Explicit, 12.1k
Gym Thot Bucky
“So talk to him,” Sam says.
“I can’t,” Bucky groans. “I can’t, Sam, I. He just.” He fluffs his hair up and stares at Sam, distraught. “I want him to bench press me.”
“Okay, so it’s serious,” Sam interprets. “Got it."
(Or: The one where Sam is Bucky's long-suffering roommate, Bucky is a hot mess of a millennial, and Hot Steve spends far too much time on the Lat Pull-Down machine.)
Art Nouveau by voluptuous_panic - Explicit, 12.2k
Bartender Bucky, Tattooed & Pierced Bucky
Steve's on the worst date of his life. At least the bartender's cute.
much tattoo about nothing by @deisderium - Explicit, 14.5k
Tattoo Artist Bucky
Steve Rogers gets a lot of email requests, but never one like this: James Barnes wants to use his healing factor to practice tattoos.
Turns out tattoos give Steve boners.
No Wonder There's Panic in the Industry by sprinkle_of_cinnamon - Not Rated (I’d say Mature?), 20.5k
Stark Industries Intern Bucky, Team fic, Humor
In which Bucky Barnes and his BFF, Clint Barton, are NYU interns for Stark Media Group competing to be Pepper's favorite.
Or alternatively, the time Bucky assisted the P.A. team on the Steve Rogers piece and ended up (adopted) with a contact list full of Avengers.
Life of the Party by @aggressivewhenstartled - Explicit, 21.6k
Superhero Impersonator Bucky, Mistaken Identity
“You know, kids,” Steve heard from the backyard, “one of the most common threats a superhero has to face is inside an active volcano! We’re going to have to work on your evasion skills, so for the next five minutes, the floor is lava!” This was met by a sudden spike in both volume and pitch from the small children as they scrambled onto every raised surface they could find and immediately launched themselves right back off.
“I’ve never seen actual lava in my entire life,” Steve said, vaguely offended.
“You got a superhero impersonator for The Falcon’s niece’s birthday party,” Sam said, incredulous. “The Falcon, who is an actual superhero.”
Trust Enough by @geneticallydead - Explicit, 23.3k
“Saturday. Yeah, that’s good,” Steve says, and actually scuffs his shoe at the ground. Like a ridiculous shy superhero damsel. “Say eight? I live-“
“Yeah, big building with the A on it,” Bucky says, and can’t help a big stupid grin. Steve stares at him, looking a little dazed, and after their whole conversation it’s only now that Bucky’s brain catches up and realises Steve finds him quite attractive. So. Win for Bucky.
“Let me get your number,” Steve says finally, after they’ve stared stupidly at each other for about three hours, taking out his phone.
So they exchange numbers, and then Steve says he should go, and Bucky agrees, and they kind of stare at each other for a bit more, then Steve actually does go, but not before taking Bucky’s hand and squeezing it warmly in a way that makes Bucky want to shiver all over. Then Steve is gone, and Bucky is standing alone in the alley, grinning to himself.
Right up until the moment he remembers that Steve thinks Bucky is an escort he’s just hired.
The Roommate by layersofart, Niitza - Teen, 28.6k
War Vet Bucky, Roommates AU, Humor, Fluff, Angst, Team fic
In which Steven G. Rogers, a.k.a. Captain America, gets a roommate. Who rapidly turns into his "roommate"—in the euphemistic sense of the word.
It takes SHIELD and the rest of the Avengers an absurd amount of time to notice.
Brooklyn Baby by sprinkle_of_cinnamon - Mature, 33.7k
Coffee Shop AU, Modern Howlies, Mistaken Identity, Team Fic
In which Bucky is just trying to live life and enjoy his unofficial official table at the obnoxiously hipster coffee shop but some guy named Steve stole his spot.
Or, the time that Bucky unintentionally befriended the Avengers and had no idea.
Never Talk to Strangers by mambo @whtaft - Teen, 40.4k
Grad Student Bucky, Slow Burn
Never Talk to Strangers: or; How a Forgotten Childhood Lesson Led Bucky Barnes to Appreciate Charlie Chaplin, Befriend an A.I., Slip on Soap Bubbles, Be Mistaken for a Succubus, and Try to Woo a Superhero.
Sinking Our Teeth In The Heart Of The Sun by fallendarlings @pressrestartwrites - Explicit, 102.8k
Single Dad Bucky, Kid Fic, Slow Burn, Domestic, Fluff, Mutual Pining, Steve has Autism
Bucky Barnes never intended to become a single father at 25. But life has always enjoyed kicking him while he's down and it's showing no signs of stopping. A chance meeting with a brick wall of a guy named Steve in the formula aisle of the grocery store leads to a friendship it seems like both of them need. If only Bucky could remember that's all they are- friends. If only Steve didn't slot into their lives so perfectly and look so good spoiling Bucky's daughter (and Bucky, despite his protests).
Oh, if only Steve didn't turn out to be Captain America.
Steve Rogers is wandering around a world that he doesn't fit into, fighting for a government that he doesn't trust, just because he doesn't know what to do with himself if he ever relaxes long enough to actually think about anything other than the next mission.
And then came Bucky Barnes and his newborn baby.
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and they were quARANTINED [a beatles fic] - ch 1
summary: George takes a shit. Ringo braves a trip to the tescos and loses a bit of his soul. John harrasses the general public and Paul’s just trying to get them home before they kill each other. All while a virus tears the world apart.
warnings: CRACK (not cocaine), geo’s bad potty habits, ringo’s copious use of emojis
so, this is different... but i’ve always been a crack fic writer at heart. this is the result of being quarantined myself due to COVID-19. i’ve been seeing so much fear and frustration and hatred that i just wanted to write about it kinda cathartically. enjoy!
Unfortunately, George doesn’t realize that they’re out of toilet paper until after he’s taken a shit.
“Fuck,” he mutters. “Ringo?”
George’s legs are starting to lose feeling. He bounces them up and down a bit and the motion almost makes him drop his phone in the toilet.
“RICHARD FUCKING STARKEY!”
There’s the sound of footsteps and then a pause before Ringo answers.
“What took you so long?”
“Had my headphones in. Sorry I couldn’t be at your beck and call, O Lord of the Loo.”
“SHUT up. Look, do we have any more loo roll?”
A pause. “Why, are we out?”
George rolls his eyes so hard he sees stars. “No, I’m askin’ for the banter.”
“I’ll go check. Don’t move!”
George can almost see the shit-eating (heh) grin on his mate’s face as he walks away. With a sigh and some choice curse words that would make Louise cry, George pulls out his phone again. Opens Twitter. Sees yet another tweet from that spraytanned clown across the pond. Closes Twitter and contemplates deleting it. After about three rounds of this, Ringo comes back and knocks on the door.
“We’re all out. Got you some tissues, though.”
Krishna help me. George tips his head back against the wall and thumps it a few times for good measure.
“Thanks,” he says flatly. “Could you- ?”
The door opens just a smidge before he can finish talking there’s a flying blur of Kleenex box, a blinding pain in the side of his head, and a sickening crACK—
“I’m really sorry,” Ringo says for the millionth time, hovering over George as he examines the spiderweb of cracks on his phone screen. George huffs. He wants to be mad, he really does, but Ringo’s face is doing that stupid thing where his eyes are very, very blue and droopy and his teeth are worrying his bottom lip and it’s obvious that he’s genuinely remorseful and—fuck, he’s got it bad.
“It’s fine,” George insists, even though he can hear his bank account having a fit. “Piece of shit phone, anyway. And look, it still works!” Very shittily, his brain adds, but that’s what you get with a five year old phone.
The older boy’s eyes still have an unconvinced, sad look about them and George wishes he could kiss it away. No homo, though.
“How can I make it up to you?” George’s brain does a slutdrop into the gutter. “I’ll… I’ll get the groceries! How ‘bout that?”
“NO!” Scrambling off the couch, George just barely misses smacking noses with Ringo. “What about the… the virus?”
“I’ll wear a mask and all. Wash hands for twenty seconds, stay six feet away from people… am I missing anything?”
“Yeah, the quarantine bit.”
Ringo snorts and puts a hand on George’s arm. “Quit your worrying, Geo. I’ll be fine. Haven’t John and Paul been out all day?”
John and Paul want to go the fuck home. They’d walked all the way to a new art gallery opening only to find out it was cancelled (“Why didn’t you check Google?” “Why didn’t you?”). And now, both being tired as hell from their long trek, they couldn’t even flag down a single cab to take them home.
“This is the worst thing ever,” John cries, flopping his entire body down on a park bench. Paul rolls his eyes and lifts up John’s stupidly long legs so he can sit down as well.
“People are dying, John.”
“I feel like I’m dying.”
“Okay, fine, maybe I’m being dramatic. But this stupid… thing… is fucking up all our plans!”
“It’s not fucking Voldemort, you can say the name.”
“Alright, fine. Coronavirus. CORONAVIRUS. You happy, Paul?”
A woman hurrying by shoots them a wide-eyed, nervous look and crosses the street, tugging a little boy by the hand.
“Jesus, John.” Paul pinches the bridge of his nose. “I’d do that too if some rando was shouting in the streets.”
“Yeah, but she didn’t hafta shoot that nasty look at us… did you see that? Paul?”
“Hold on, hold on.” His phone is vibrating in his pocket and he fumbles to pull it out. “Your stupid legs are in the way.”
John huffs and makes a show of wiggling said legs, almost kicking Paul in the face. Still, he tucks them to his chest (flexible, Paul thinks and then instantly regrets) so that Paul can take out the buzzing rectangle.
bongo: do u or john want anything? 🤔🤔
bongo: like groceries
bongo: going to tescos
Shouldnt you be quarantining?
bongo: ur literally at an art museum 😂
It’s a gallery
And it got cancelled :/
bongo: oop sorry m8 thats tough
bongo: srsly tho whaddaya want
We need more vegetables. Carrots, etc
“Tell him to get cornflakes,” John says, peering over Paul’s shoulder. He’s sat up and practically draped over Paul’s lap. Paul sighs and shoves his legs off, ignoring the indignant squawk the other boy makes when he almost falls off the bench.
Also that cornflake cereal stuff
bongo: tell john i said hi
Heyyyyyy rich wots up
Paulie’s being a bitch he pushed me :((((
Why is his auto caps on lsdnfol
“Give it back!”
“Ow! Ow stop hitting me Jesus fuckin-”
Sorry that was john
bongo: yeah i could tell lmao
bongo: where are u guys??
Stuck at some park. Can’t get any cabs home
bongo: well duh coronavirus 😷😷😷
bongo: bad time to be a cabbie man 😔
Pick up some rice for george too
And hand sanitizer
bongo: ill try but twitter says handsan itizer is going fast
bongo: what the fuc why did it space like that
bongo: oh also
bongo: geos being a mother hen and making me wear a face mask
bongo: u know where they are?
Second drawer down in the bathroom, behind the rubber gloves
bongo: … how did u reply SO fast
Uh i know where things are in our flat? Like a normal person?
bongo: thats sus but ok
bongo: wow theyre actually here
bongo: okay imma head out before it gets dark
What’s after dark? Zombies?
bongo: u never no
bongo: FUCKING *KNOW
Okay stay safe ritch
Ringo has never seen this many people at Tesco in his entire life. Two grown men are having a full on argument in the pastries. A harried-looking dad almost knocks Ringo into a rack of Twinkies, pulling along two screaming kids with one slung on his hip. And… is that person actually wearing a Hazmat suit??
“This is insane,” Ringo mutters to himself, slightly muffled due to the face mask. He just needs to find the loo roll and then he’s going to yeet outta here ASAP.
Okay, hygiene aisle… here we g—what the—
The entire aisle is empty.
It’s like a goddamn Old Western. Just add a cow skull… cue the tumbleweed… and it would be perfect.
Not for the first time that day, Ringo sends a prayer to whoever is listening above. There’s got to be something left. He walks down to the end of the aisle. Walks back. Jumps a couple times to check if there’s anything on the top shelf. Sincerely hopes no one just saw him do that. Finally, shoved at the very back behind a couple of Always boxes, Ringo digs out a dusty as shit six-pack of toilet paper.
Well. It’ll have to do.
As he’s walking to the check out lines, a woman drops her bottle of hand sanitizer. It rolls across the floor in a perfect arc and Ringo scoops it up before it can get too far.
“Oops, you dropped this!” He says cheerily, handing it to her. Well, trying to. The woman makes a strangled noise in the back of her throat, physically flinches away from his outstretched hand, and almost drops the rest of her groceries. Before Ringo can react, she’s disappeared behind the produce aisle.
Ringo’s arm falls to his side. He stares at the space where she was just a second ago and holds in a scream.
“More for us, I guess.”
By the time Ringo reaches the flat, he’s ready to never see another person again. He trudges right past George in the kitchen, dropping the groceries on the table with a thwack. John hums a greeting to him in the living room and offers him a biscuit.
“No thanks,” Ringo says. He faceplants into the couch.
Something clinks onto the coffee table. Well, coffee table is one way to put it; it’s more of a hunk of stone from back when Paul thought he was going to be the next Michelangelo and get really into classical sculpture. It now sits in the living room and primarily holds George’s textbooks, plus takeout for whenever they don’t feel like cooking (which is all the time), so you can see how that panned out for Paul.
“Tea for you,” George says. He plops onto the floor between the couch and the table and runs a friendly, comforting hand through Ringo’s hair. Ringo practically purrs, leaning into the touch, and George feels his heart melt and trickle through his ribs. “You okay?”
“I’ve lost all faith in humanity,” Ringo mumbles into the cushion. John reaches over and pats him on the back.
“Don’t worry, Ringo. There won’t be any humans to have faith in soon.”
George throws a packet of sugar at John who dodges it, snickering. Ringo groans and tries to sink even deeper into the couch.
And that’s when they hear Paul scream.
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