#As a fan of Tech (which should be clear if anyone's read my fics) I'm so tired of this being the sole topic for Tech

[wwheeljack]

I genuinely remain confounded by the two sides to the Tech debate in this fandom. I've seen so many people on the Tech Lives side proclaim that they will be attacked, or insulted or made fun of for their ideas, all while they argue that those who see Tech as dead do so only because they want him dead since he's "autistic".

I've seen people on the Tech is Dead side go out of their way to comment unnecessarily on people who want him back with their beliefs on his death. This is unnecessary, just as it is unnecessary for those who believe or want Tech alive to make assumptions about those who believe the opposite.

That multiple people believe that is why someone may believe he's dead is confounding. The idea that Tech may be dead is not predicated on a hatred for autistic people, or autistic like characters. It isn't malicious for people to either want him alive, or to have accepted his death.

Frankly, it is tiring how the main focus of Tech's entire being since season two is that he died, and he's potentially autistic (The Crossing included, he never has been outright confirmed as such). He is so much more than that, and deserves to have people focus on him aside from just his death.

Curate your fandom experience by muting words or tags that may upset you.

[dreamauri]

♪ — 𝗪𝗛𝗘𝗥𝗘 𝗧𝗢, 𝗕𝗘𝗟𝗢𝗩𝗘𝗗 sebastian vetteln x fem! reader ( fluff ) fic summary . . . In which a bus stop acts as a way-point for two idiots who are madly in love.

( master list | more of sebastian vettel ) ( requests )

put my blood and sweat into this, took me so long to write, enjoy

tagging my #1 sebastian fan @forza55

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2006

rain was always so calming. A constant in your life. The raindrops would follow one another and make a pitter patter noise as they landed on the earth, weather on the ground, leaves, or in water again.

You could hear it loud and clear despite your headphones and icecap covering your ears. You weren't listening to music, but rather had the music instrument to divert anyone from talking to you. The bus stop was not too crowded, and the same people every Wednesday huddled under the stop's shelter like fish in a bucket.

Your face, of course, was buried in your book. What else would you be doing? Flipping the page as you glanced at your watch. 2 more minutes, you sighed.

"Excuse me." You snapped your head up, looking at the drenched blond that stepped under the ran protective roof. "Did bus, 38 leave yet?" He was panting, one hand on his knee as he looked up at you. You?

You were taken aback by his eyes, looking around to see if he he was taking to anyone else, but no, his blue eyes were on you. "I um -" You took a headphone off to be polite. "No, it should be, oh yeah, turn around." Just in time, you bit the inside of your lip as the blond gave you a thankful smile.

The people from the bus top filed in, taking a seat and resuming their activities. You decided to stand. Someone else could need your seat more than you do. And apparently, someone also thought the same thing, but he wasn't used to the bus's immediate halts.

Standing a few feet behind you was a bad idea because with the wet floor and sudden red traffic light, you found yourself catching Sebastian Vettel from slipping down on the floor and taking him with you.

Those blue eyes were too big for his head, scratch that. They were perfect. The amount of time the two of you spent with your arm hooked around his waist and him holding onto the handle above to catch his balance, was enough for you sketch the beauty he was in your head.

"Sorry." "It's okay." You dismissed, with a polite smile, helping him stand up straight. "Maybe you should sit down." "Eh, someone else might need it more than me." He said hesitantly, shrugging. The smile on your face widened, and features softened. His did too, seeing the elegant moon in your eyes shine on him with what he could describe as a gentle goddess giving a flower to a loyal worshipper.

"I'm Sebastian." "Y/N."

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2007

No one ever sits on the chair beside you. When the seats were vacant and you sat down, it'd be just you. But today, a familiar face returned. After only appearing for two weeks, you finally get to see the blue eyes and fluff after a year.

"Whatcha reading?" He asks, looking down at your book. A smile shined on your face as you closed the pages to show him the title. "Just light reading." You hummed quietly, glancing up as the bus arrived.

You stood together on the bus, catching up on recent events. Which included him getting a "promotion" at his job. You kind of got into that topic more, you learned that his job took him to travel the world, and that included being here in Canada for a week every year, Thursday to Sunday.

Only, today was Monday. And last year when he visited he stayed for three Thursdays: three weeks, triple the time he should. You didn't ask about that, maybe it was just personal, or he had family here. You didn't ask what his job was either since he didn't disclose it on his own. You sure it was just a big fancy company that was related to computers and cyber tech since they were big things at this time.

When you got off with Seb at your stop, the both of you decided to stop at a café before plopping down on the couch in a corner in the grand library. Your hands were too busy holding the warm paper cup you didn't realize that Sebastian was leading the way. His hand on the small off your back, pulling you from your shirt to stop you at a cross walk ( red goers dead goers ) or walking on the outside of the street so it was safter for you to sip on your hot chocolate in peace.

The noon was spent peacefully, sitting beside each other, noses in books. Sebastian had such a calming presence, you even laid your head on his shoulder and watched him go through books about motors and cars ( which you found terribly cute ).

The week continued like usual, with seb having to leave early from Thursday to Saturday. On Monday he stayed long enough to take you out to lunch. The two of you sat at a nice dinner overlooking St. Lawrence river, and later you had a nice walk along the water body, linking arms together.

You spent the rest of the day with him, all the way back to the bus stop long after the sun had set. "Are you staying far from here?" You asked, brushing some hair from his eyes gently. He shrugged looking out at the illuminated streets. "I'm German, a walk is a walk." You couldn't help but chuckle as he pointed at his inflated chest proudly.

"I'll . . . see you tomorrow morning?" He asked hesitantly as he started walking away backwards slowly, looking at you. You nodded, a wide sile on your face as you walked in the opposite direction, backwards as well. "Get hoe safe." "You too."

But for whatever reason. He wasn't there in the morning. He usually makes it just two minutes before the bus. But today, you had to ride all alone. You had to sit all alone in the library too, and buy hot chocolate on your own too. Wednesday was like that as well, and Thursday as follows. And on Sunday, as you sat at the cafe, blowing hot air in your palms to warm yourself up when your ear caught a familiar name on the television.

"And eighth on his debut, the nineteen year old Sebastian Vettel standing in for the injured Robert Kubica scores one point for BMW."

Your Sebastian Vettel just scared a point in the pinnacle of motorsport?

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2008

Your smile is wide as you watch the blond arrive. You scootch over in your seat since the other one was taken and immediately Seb takes a seat beside you. "Mr. Vettel, would you be so kind to sign my shirt?" You joke, and when he looks as the top you're wearing he almost burst into laughter, putting his face in his hands.

"There's this store that sells merch, I thought it looked good." You shrug, nudging him. "Oh my god." He wipes his eyes looking at it. "Who's that?" He points to the shirt you were wearing, new Torro rosso merch with the new driver. "You don't know Sebastian Vettel?" You gasp, putting your hand on your chest in fake and dramatic offence. "He's the next World Champion." "Really?" "Oh yea, for sure. Maybe not this year or the next. But he'll do great one day."

"I was hoping to know, do you think Sebastian would be able to invite this friend of his to the race on Sunday." "I don't know, I'll have to check. I'm sure he'll be intent on bringing her to all of the races if she says yes." "She says yes."

university can wait.

It can wait till after Seb's first home grand prix, hugging him tightly after the race. Till after you go out with him that after party to dance all night. It can wait till the two of you cakesmash each other the next morning then laugh your asses off as you struggle to clean up.

university can defiantly wait till after a trip to Italy. Sitting at a very expensive restaurant and eating pasta despite dietary restrictions. It can wait sightseeing and museums. And most defiantly wait till after Sebastian's first win. After he kisses you post celebration and post podium, sharing the bottle of champagne

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2009

"That was beautiful, amour." [love] you smiled as Sebastian finally reached you. This year round, both of you were wearing red bull branded clothes, while seb wore the race suit, you wore the kit.

"I'm pretty sure you should look in a mirror because you're much more beautiful." The German joked, sharing a quick kiss with you. Christian could see the look of pride and admiration on your face as Sebastian hopped on the top pedestal for the Chinese grand prix. And of curse, as anyone in your places would, you blew kisses to each other.

"Its a pretty trophy." You hummed once you got a hold of it after the podium ceremony. The garage was still hype from the win, and you couldn't deny that your heart was hammering in your chest still. "It is." Adrian newey, your boss nodded looking between you and sebastian who was chasing his mechanics with the bottle of champagne.

"This is going to be a nice year. A very nice year." You hummed to yourself, feeling yourself smile watching your lover laugh. He looked at you with his eyebrows raised. And before you knew it, he was chasing you up and down the pitlane. Safe to say the skirt you were wearing was not helping you and you were eventually sticky and sweet.

"Let me taste." Seb held your waste, leaning in for a kiss. You managed to pull away, blushing and pushing on his chest playfully. "The whole world will see us." You scolded, folding your arms shyly. You were, after all, in the pitlane, any fan or journalist or camera could see and forever etch the moment into the internet.

"Let them see, let the world know that you're mine and I'm yours."

"You cheeky bastard."

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2010

"Shhhh." "Let me seeee!" "Shhhh!" You shushed him even harder, pushing him away from his face. "I'm working." You scolded, slightly smacking his chest.

Pre season was almost here, and you were finishing up the design to the RB6. Moving from Montreal to London for the job was a big change. Although you weren't able to graduate university with your planned engineering degree, you were talented and gifted enough to score a designer position with Red bull racing.

Adrian Newey supervised over you and saw you as a skilled individual. You were able to preform well, abiding within the rules of F1 to create extraordinary work. Well, you work fine when Sebastian is not at your neck trying to look at the blueprints for the RB6.

"Oh come on, Let me see what you're going to be putting me in. I'm going to drive it anyways." You shook you head to yourself. As soon as you stopped holding Seb away from his chest, he had immediately put his nose in all your work and notes asking questions and making pointers even though the man never learned anything in university about any of this.

"Make it super fast." He tells you. You couldn't help but chuckle at his antics. "I don't make the car fast. The driver does." You joke getting up. "besides, I can already tell, we've bagged this season." You breath out happily kissing his cheek as you pass him to go to the kitchen.

"I like the way you think." He smirked following you, leaning his forearms on the kitchen counter, watching you as you skimmed through the fridge for something. "You hungry? We can go out." He offered, pushing himself up and coming up from behind you, hugging your waist and searching with his eyes through the content of the fridge same way you did.

"I don't know . . . I'm craving gâteau, tiramisu maybe? I don't know. Sugar, something sweet." [cake] You sighed in thought. "Do you wat something sweet?" you looked back at him only to see his cute smile and his blue gorgeous eyes on you.

"I have my infinite share of sweetness." You raised a brow confused at his words, only to be answered by his lips pressing on yours. "Why would I want anything cake or gâteau," he mocked, "when I have you?" "verry funny, seb." you chuckled, playfully rolling your eyes only to be met with another kiss.

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You were stressed, very stressed. after the car had preformed well and met your expectations during testing, it did not deliver well enough not in the first race with Alonso had won nor the second race in which Sebastian had to retire. mark in the other seat wasn't doing any better with 8th and 9th, which were yes in the points, but not in the championship.

Sebastian had taken pole during both weekends, the first race in Bahrain where his car lost power in the last few laps and the second race in Australia where the brakes failed due to mechanical issues. And it all felt like it was your fault. Like you didn't put enough effort in the car at the beginning in the season, like you costed a beloved new family and team money and a championship.

The stress and nerves wouldn't leave you, sitting on the pit wall as you watched the lights turn red one by one. Webber is on pole this time with seb in the second row with p3. chewing your pencil, you counted down till the lights went out, eyes on the screens in front of you displaying important specs that would help you with possible outcomes and opportunities for strategies.

Your heart almost jumped out of your chest as the drivers pressed on the throttle for the Malaysian grand prix. with your note book in hand and pen between your fingers, you began scribbling and planning and thinking.

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Your heart hammers in your chest as Sebastian crosses the finish line first. You hardly register the cheers around you as you push through the crowd, your feet carrying you to parc fermé on pure instinct. There he is—Sebastian, climbing out of his car, arms raised in triumph, the kind of smile that could light up the entire paddock plastered across his face.

“Seb!” you call out, your voice cracking with emotion. His head whips around, and the moment his eyes land on you, he opens his arms without hesitation.

You throw yourself into him, gripping him so tightly you're not sure where he ends and you begin. The smell of sweat and champagne clings to him, but you don’t care. All that matters is the way he holds you back, his joy infectious.

“You did it,” you whisper, your voice shaky. “You actually did it.”

“I couldn’t have done it without you,” he replies, his words soft but weighty, his voice muffled against your hair. And for a fleeting moment, it feels like the world belongs to the two of you.

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The words echo in your ears, muffled yet unmistakable: “Du bist Weltmeister!” It feels surreal, like you’ve stepped into a dream. The grand prix is over, and yet your heart races faster than it ever did during the race.

Sebastian’s disbelief mirrors your own as he clambers out of his car, shaking his head in wonder before he sees you. You barely have time to brace yourself before he’s pulling you into another bone-crushing hug, his breath coming out in a stuttering laugh against your shoulder.

“We did it!” he exclaims, his voice thick with emotion.

“No,” you correct him, though your voice cracks from the tears threatening to spill. “You did it, Seb. You’re the world champion.”

Later, on the podium, Sebastian lifts the constructor’s trophy beside you, his smile splitting his face as the crowd roars. When the champagne sprays, you barely have time to duck before he turns the bottle on you, his laughter blending with yours in the chaos. It’s a moment frozen in time, one you’ll replay over and over in your mind.

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2011

Moving into the Milton Keynes apartment had been his idea. Despite his Monaco residence, Sebastian had insisted that being close to you—and the team—mattered more. The apartment wasn’t much, but it became home.

You’d cook dinner together, sometimes burning the pasta because you were too busy teasing each other. When you weren’t at the factory or the track, you were exploring cities together, summer and winter breaks filled with spontaneous vacations. Hiking in the Alps, sipping espresso on cobbled streets in Rome, or lying on the beaches of Ibiza—it was always the two of you against the world.

It was simple. It was perfect. Until it wasn’t.

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2014

The tension had been building for weeks. Every race felt like a battlefield, but not just for Sebastian on the track—it had seeped into the small apartment you shared, turning it into a minefield neither of you seemed able to navigate. The car wasn’t competitive, the championship slipping further out of reach with every race weekend. It gnawed at him, at both of you, but Sebastian wasn’t used to losing.

That night, it all came to a head.

“I’m giving everything I have!” he snapped, pacing across the narrow living room, his hands tugging at his hair. His voice was sharp, louder than you’d ever heard it before, echoing against the walls. “Do you think I want to be stuck fighting for fifth?”

You flinched, his frustration rolling off him in waves, but you stood your ground. Crossing your arms, you swallowed the lump forming in your throat. “I never said that, Seb. But you’re shutting me out! How am I supposed to help you if you won’t even let me in?”

He stopped mid-stride, turning to face you with a look that made your stomach twist. His lips parted, and for a moment, you thought he might say something to ease the blow, to let you in the way you were begging him to. But then, the words came out like a slap:

“Maybe you can’t help!”

The air in the room went heavy, suffocating. Your breath hitched as the weight of his words settled in your chest, sharp and cutting. You stared at him, waiting for him to take it back, to soften the edges of what he’d just said. But he didn’t. He just stood there, his chest rising and falling, his eyes darting away from yours.

“Okay,” you said finally, your voice quiet, strained. It was all you could manage.

Sebastian exhaled sharply, dragging his hand down his face, but he didn’t say anything. No apology, no explanation. And somehow, that was worse.

The rest of the night passed in silence. He retreated to the bedroom, the door clicking shut behind him, while you sat alone in the dimly lit living room, staring blankly at the coffee table. The tension was still there, like an invisible wall between you, and you knew—knew—that this wasn’t just about the car. It was about everything.

By mid-season, you couldn’t take it anymore. The team’s focus was shifting, Sebastian’s frustration was mounting, and your own heartbreak was becoming unbearable. You handed in your resignation at Red Bull with trembling hands, the words barely audible as you told Christian you were leaving.

Porsche’s hypercar program was a lifeline. It wasn’t just about stepping away from the team—it was about stepping away from Sebastian, from the version of him you didn’t recognize anymore. You threw yourself into your work, finishing your master’s degree with a kind of single-minded determination that bordered on obsession. A PhD followed, and so did your work alongside Mark Webber.

But even as the years passed, the sting of that night, of those words—Maybe you can’t help!—never truly faded. They echoed in your mind at the most unexpected times, in the quiet moments when you let your guard down. You told yourself you’d moved on, but deep down, you knew part of you was still in that small apartment in Milton Keynes, staring at the man you once thought you’d never lose.

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2024

The Porsche garage hummed with activity—mechanics adjusting tools, engineers poring over screens, the air filled with the familiar scents of fuel and rubber. It was a controlled chaos you thrived in, but when Sebastian walked in, the rhythm faltered, like someone had pressed pause on the world.

You looked up, drawn by an instinct you couldn’t explain. He stood just inside the doorway, his gaze scanning the room until it landed on you.

Time seemed to collapse, the years between you vanishing in an instant. He looked... different. His features had sharpened with age, a faint streak of silver glinting in his hair, but his eyes—those striking, unyielding eyes—remained the same.

For a moment, neither of you moved. The noise of the garage dulled to a murmur, replaced by the pounding of your heartbeat in your ears.

Finally, you smiled, forcing yourself to break the spell. “Good seeing you again, Seb.”

Your voice was steady, but your extended hand trembled slightly. He stepped forward, taking it in his. His grip was firm, grounding, and the touch lingered longer than it should have.

“Yn,” he said, your name a quiet acknowledgment, a memory resurrected.

The handshake ended, and with it, the fragile bubble of familiarity. You withdrew, your professionalism snapping into place like armor, but the warmth of his palm against yours stayed, a phantom sensation.

Later, you stood at the pit wall, your headset snug over your ears as you stared at the monitors in front of you. Rows of data scrolled across the screens—lap times, tire degradation, telemetry—all of it meant to hold your focus. But no amount of numbers could drown out the echo of Sebastian’s voice when he’d said your name.

Out on the track, the Porsche glided through the apex of a turn, sleek and powerful under Sebastian’s control. His voice crackled through your headset, cutting through your scattered thoughts. “Car feels good.”

It was measured, professional, but you caught it—that faint hesitation, the undertone of something unresolved.

“Copy that,” you replied, gripping the edge of the console until your knuckles whitened. Your voice was clipped, businesslike, but it felt like a mask too thin to hold. “Let’s push for one more flying lap.”

Sebastian’s car roared down the straight, his hands tightening around the wheel. He leaned into the motion of the car, each turn precise, his instincts still razor-sharp. But beneath the surface, his mind was a storm. Every shift of the gears felt weighted, every flick of the wheel a reminder of how much had changed—and how much had stayed the same.

Inside the garage, the silence between radio updates was deafening. You clenched your jaw, willing yourself to focus on the present. But every beep of the telemetry felt like a heartbeat, syncing with the one pounding in your chest.

When Sebastian finally returned to the pit lane, you stepped back, giving him space as he climbed out of the car. For a moment, his eyes found yours again, a flash of something unspoken passing between you.

The handshake earlier had been a bridge—a brief moment of connection—but now, standing apart, the gap between you felt impossibly vast. Neither of you moved to close it.

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The bus stop was dimly lit, the flickering streetlamp above casting fleeting shadows on the damp pavement. A cold breeze tugged at your coat, sneaking past the fabric to nip at your skin. You tucked your hands deeper into your pockets, rocking on your heels to stay warm.

The sound of an engine broke through the quiet, low and familiar. Headlights curved around the corner, slowing as they approached. You turned, squinting into the glow, and recognition struck before the car even stopped.

Sebastian’s car.

He rolled down the window, leaning over with an easy grace that looked so natural, like no time had passed. His gaze found yours, soft and warm, but carrying something you couldn’t quite place.

“Need a lift?” he asked, voice steady but tinged with something almost hesitant.

A smirk tugged at your lips as you stepped closer, the teasing retort slipping out effortlessly. “Are you my 39 North today?”

His chuckle was low, the kind that felt like the rumble of a car engine in your chest. “Only because you’re my favorite passenger.”

Without hesitation, you opened the door and slid into the passenger seat, the faint scent of leather and something distinctly Sebastian enveloping you. As you buckled up, you glanced at him, taking in the way his fingers rested on the steering wheel, tapping lightly in an unconscious rhythm.

“Still driving like you’re on the autobahn?” you teased, adjusting the seatbelt.

He cast a sidelong glance at you, a small smile playing at his lips. “I could say the same about you. You were always terrible at staying in the slow lane.”

You laughed, the sound breaking through the quiet tension that had settled between you both. As the car pulled away, the city lights painted streaks across the windshield, and for the first time in years, the silence felt comfortable. 

Like maybe, just maybe.

[bucky-at-bedtime]

Stucky Fic Recs

So basically I went through all of my ao3 bookmarks and collated a list of some of my favourites (I couldn't fit all of them on this list, so if anyone shows interest there might be a part two).

Please read tags and descriptions of the works before reading, some of them are pretty dark or extremely horny so just make sure you check that the fic is for you!!

Please please please send me your favourite fics in return! I am always happy to hear fic recs, headcanons and any other ideas/comments you all have!

Without any further ado, here are a few of my favourite Stucky fics:

‘Not Easily Conquered’ series by dropdeaddream, WhatAreFear

Rating: M, Words: 117,692

https://archiveofourown.org/series/115516

“I told you, you heard me: I told you never to follow me into Hell. Now I’m not vain enough to think that’s why you’re out here now — if there’s any person in what’s left of this God forsaken planet who’s part of a bigger picture, it’d be you. But I’ll keep saying it until it sticks. You got nothing to prove. I’m not worth much, I damn well know that, but I’ll ask you anyway: Stay for me. If you leave me alone in this world I’ll turn into something terrible. I’ll turn into the nasty creature that’s growing inside me. This war, it’ll swallow me whole”

[To me, this fic is like the classic Stucky 101 fanfic – if you're a Stucky fan and you haven't read this, I highly recommend it. The authors explore the Steve/Bucky relationship in such an interesting, tragic, emotive way and I cry every time I read it. I couldn't praise this work enough.]

‘Ain’t No Grave’ series by spitandvinegar

Rating: M-E, Words: 131,789

https://archiveofourown.org/series/426577

"Yeah, he never calls me by my name," Steve says. "It's always champ, ace, hotshot, that kinda thing."

"Man, that is flirting," Sam says. "That nicknames thing, he is flirting with you. He's just working his way up to calling you baby or something."

Steve goes redder than a damn coke can. Sam pumps his fist. "Yes, I am so right, I am wise as hell. He did, didn't he?"

"He called me sweetheart," Steve says grimly, "because he's a drug addict with brain damage."

"Or because he looooooves you," Sam says. Captain America throws a cookie at his head. Sam eats it, because he deserves a treat for being so damn wise.”

[I'm currently re-reading this fic and absolutely loving it. The way spitandvinegar writes Bucky's road towards recovery and Steve's entire characterisation – it's all just so good. It's another one that covers some pretty dark themes, so make sure you're checkin those tags!]

'Einherjar' by thecommodore_squid

Rating: M, Words: 71297

https://archiveofourown.org/works/7157024/chapters/16249814

But Steve was fine.

Sure, he hadn’t seen Bucky in months, and sometimes he was at the punching bag so long that his skin started to peel off to expose the bones of his fingers, and sometimes he couldn’t find the energy to drag himself out of bed, and sometimes he went weeks without sleeping, and sometimes he thought about throwing himself head-first off the nearest tall structure, but he was fine.

He was absolutely, perfectly, one-hundred percent, fucking fine.

AKA In which Steve learns how to deal with his shit, and Bucky learns how to stop leaving.

[basically the definition of a recovery fic, I absolutely adore it. This is tragic and amazing and makes me cry and smile. It’s got a bunch of fantastic cameos and It really just ticks so many of my boxes.]

‘Like real People do’ by 2bestfriends

Rating: E, Words: 67,775

https://archiveofourown.org/works/19887376/chapters/47103217

“"Ask me what?" demands Bucky. "I didn't hear a question."

Steve licks his lips. "Will you stay with me? Will you come back home, Buck?"

"Home," repeats Bucky in a small voice, and then he's crying for real.”

[Basically soft lumberjack!steve and lonely twink!bucky being horny and in love. This is a comfort fic for that’s really just about my favourite boys falling in love.]

‘This City Bleeds it’s Aching Heart’ by anonymous

Rating: E, Words: 34,537

https://archiveofourown.org/works/835829/chapters/1591736

“The one where Steve and Bucky pose as a happily married couple while on a mission for SHIELD, to catch an international arms dealer hiding in a suburban neighbourhood.”

[The plot in this one is just a good time and i think it’s just a really fun take on the fake relationship trope. Also some really great characterisation.]

‘Home is Wherever I’m With You’ by cydonic

Rating: E, Words: 88,570

https://archiveofourown.org/works/18868081/chapters/44783077

“Bucky kisses Steve and Emma goodbye before they leave for school, which is why – partway down the road – Amelia turns to him and asks, “why are you and Daddy kissing?”

Which is definitely a conversation Bucky’s been expecting since Steve just did it, but it still takes him by surprise. Again, he thinks he should wait for Steve, but Amelia’s not the sort of kid to let anything rest. Plus, Bucky’s taking her to school where she will undoubtedly share the story with anyone who’ll listen.

He also stops to think that Steve’s asked him to stay, which means Bucky must be trusted with their happiness and well-being, at least in some small capacity.

Bucky clears his throat and searches for some explanation that will help Amelia make sense of this sudden turn of events. “Because we love each other,” is all he comes up with.”

[Bear with me, this is a House Flipper!Bucky Au. And dad!Steve. I just love a found family trope I’m not gonna lie to you. Another comfort fic that warms my lil heart.]

‘Lucky Seven’ by BetteNoire (WeAreWolves)

Rating: E, Words: 94,364

https://archiveofourown.org/works/7033105/chapters/16002481

“Back from where--?” James says, the sentence ending in a distinctly undignified squawk as Steve sweeps him up in his arms, bridal-style, and starts carrying him upstairs.

James tenses momentarily then relaxes into Steve's arms and throws back his head and starts laughing. The laughter peals out of him, his body shaking, his amusement occasionally broken by little gasps of pain.

“What's so funny?” Steve frowns.

“You are,” James says, still giggling. “You're ridiculous, Steve Rogers.”

“Behave. Or I will drop you,” Steve growls.

[The shrunkyclunks modern AU of my dreams featuring Mechanic!Bucky and cap!Steve and some really beautiful writing.]

'Dishonor On Your Cow' by mandarou

Rating: E, Words: 111695

https://archiveofourown.org/works/10659162/chapters/23589582

“Sergeant Barnes?”

“Oh, hell no, don’t call him that, man,” Sam warned.

“Captain Fuck Off!” Barnes shouted over him. “Fight me!”

Steve didn’t know whether to laugh or just slink away. He managed to combine the two by pacing two steps and snorting instead. Like a bull.

“I’m gonna need you to calm your ass, Barnes,” Sam said as he went limp again, obstructing Barnes’s struggling under him. “This is so undignified. That is Captain goddamn America.”

“Captain goddamn America!” Barnes repeated, louder. And angrier.

Steve cleared his throat again. “I’ve been looking for you,” he told Barnes.

“I hope you brought lube this time!” Barnes shouted.

[I’m not gonna lie it took me a minute to get into this one but by the end I was crying with them, laughing with them, and just really in my feels. Some very insane things happen so here’s a few of my favourite tags: ‘Seargent Barnes is done with your Shit Steve’, ‘blatant disrespect of a man’s motorcycle’, ‘Steve you ding dong’ and ‘PR nightmares in the form of Supersoldiers’.]

Propietary Information by Notlucy

Rating: E, Words: 85141

https://archiveofourown.org/works/11964402/chapters/27054777

“Okay, so Bucky Barnes has a crush on Steve Rogers. The guy's gorgeous, talented and, oh yeah, the Chief Design Officer of the biggest tech company in the world. In other words: he's so far out of Bucky's league that he might as well be in a different stratosphere.”

[We were never gonna get through this list without a Sugar Daddy!AU (I have a weakness). This one is… saucy and sexy and sweet and uh pretty kinky so read the tags and all. I’ve read it a few times, and I love the way the author has written Steve in this one, he just makes my heart go '!!!']

‘Roots Have Grown’ by AustinB

Rating: M, Words: 17280

https://archiveofourown.org/works/6912451/chapters/15767941

“Bucky is a mildly agoraphobic veteran with funds to spare, who becomes enamored with the cute blonde guy in his building.

So when Steve mentions needing a roommate to cut down on rent costs, Bucky decides it would be a good idea to volunteer.”

[Another weakness of mine is Roommate AUs, and this one is phenomenal. I tend to go for post serum!Steve stories more often, but this is a pre-serum Steve that I just adore.]

‘The Cold Never Bothered me Anyway’ by icoulddothisallday

Rating: E, Words:75562

https://archiveofourown.org/works/11728869/chapters/26425530

“Bucky Barnes has spent his whole life in a state of mild hypothermia. Steve Rogers has spent the last 70 years in the ice. The two things aren’t related until, suddenly, they are. Shrunkyclunks soulmate AU (AKA the awkward bb au).”

[I think this is the only soulmate AU in my bookmarks? I would totally be down to read more though! This one is really fun and really enjoy Bucky’s characterisation here!]

'War, Children' by Nonymos

Rating: E, Words: 106615

https://archiveofourown.org/works/5373050/chapters/12409394

“After Bucky was released from the hospital, it only took him a couple of weeks to give up on himself. Difficult to believe in any kind of future when the simple act of staying alive was almost too big an effort.

Out the frosted window, across the street, there was a tiny homeless guy burrowing under an awning.”

[An interesting exploration of Bucky’s PTSD with a trans!Steve which was a cool take on his character too!]

'The Company You Keep' by orbingarrow

Rating: G, Words: 51191

https://archiveofourown.org/works/3468605/chapters/7613072

“Hurt, hungry, and on the run, the Winter Soldier doesn’t have a lot of safe options to go to for help. Figuring that any friend of Captain Steve Rogers is unlikely to be HYDRA, Bucky takes a chance and reaches out to the first Avenger he can find.

It works out better than anyone could have expected. Eventually.”

[hurt/comfort, recovering Bucky, protective Steve, found family and domestic avengers, need I say more? I absolutely loved this one]