Down Home 1
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Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as non/dubcon, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: The world's most famous heroes walk into a small town diner and change your life.
Characters: Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers
Note: Because of this.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. Thanks to everyone who reads this one and thank you for all your energy.<3
Love you all to Jupiter and back. Take care. 💖
It’s a slow day. Every day is slow out in Tumble Down. The township’s name tells the whole story. Everything there is in decline. It’s hard to imagine there was ever a time when the people weren’t tiny and forgotten in the hubbub of the bigger world. Since the mines closed and the canning factory was outsourced, it feels even smaller.
Smaller isn’t so bad. It’s simpler. You all know each other’s names and faces. You say hi and how are you and do what needs to be done. Simple is, simple as.
You here there isn’t much to do in most small towns. Not for fun or for work. You’re one of the lucky ones. You got a job down at the diner in your sophomore year. It helped pay for your daddy’s new engine and since then, it keeps you all afloat in the rising waters of disparity as they close in on Tumble Down.
You hum to the old radio that sits on the shelf you make sure to dust. The speakers crackle from time to time and the signal gets wonky in storm season, but the music’s never bad. It’s the classic stuff that always played in your mother’s kitchen.
You wipe down another table. Not because it needs it, just because it’s something to do. The day has been long and listless. Even the breakfast rush was lower than usual.
Darnell, the cook, whistles along from the back. Everyone knows he isn’t as mean as he looks. He just likes his space.
As you go back to the counter and lean on it, staring at the ticking clock, a roar cuts through the distance. You blink and look up, narrowing your eyes at the dusty country road outside. Wind rustles through the tall wheat in the field opposite and the noise rumbles closer and closer.
A man pulls in a motorbike. He’s going so fast that he has to circle the gravel lot before he can slow down. It’s not Lenny and his prized Harley but another man on a more modern-looking mount. Not far behind, another motorcycle zips through and the riders straddle their bikes as the survey the restaurant.
You narrow your eyes. You probably need glasses but you make do. The last time you got your eyes checked, you didn’t have enough for the frames.
The one man wears blue and red, an odd helmet on his head. Not a helmet at all but a sort of mask. The other man has dark hair to his chin and a beard to match. He’s all in black but his left arm shines with gold ripples. Not a sleeve, an arm, made of metal.
“Oh my lord,” you murmur in shock, “Darnell!” You holler over your shoulder, “you’re not gonna believe this.” You turn to the window as he pokes his head around, “not sure I do myself. Tell me my eyes aren’t lyin’.”
He looks above your head, an easy task for the mammoth cook. He hums and swirls around his spatula. “Thems those boys on the news. The one that was in the old war. Grandad’s battle.”
“I’m not going crazy with boredom?” You bubble.
He snorts. It’s as close to a laugh as you get from him. You spin back and hurry around the counter to grab a pair of menus. Still, you don’t want to seem too eager. You put down the menus and fiddle with a napkin holder instead.
The bell over the door jingles and swipe up the menus and turn. You really can’t believe it’s them. Yet, as Captain America removes his cowl, you’re certain. They look just like they do on the TV. Even with your sight, you can tell.
“Hello, fellas, how are you doin’ today?”
The dark-haired one, the Winter Soldier, glances at the other, his cheek dimpling, “well... we’re... uh...”
“We’re doing great,” Steve Rogers answers brightly. “Starving. You guys serve bacon? My buddy’s dying for some.”
“Um, yes, sirs, yes. Can I sit ya down?” You ask, hugging the menus closer.
“Please,” the Captain accepts as the other man stays silent and pensive, his eyes wandering down to the coffee stain on your apron.
“Just here,” you sweep away and wave them on with you. You stop beside the nicest booth and lay down a menu on each side, “have a seat.”
They do just as you bid. The blond puts his cowl on the table and unhooks the shield from his back to lay on the far end of the seat. He smooths back the sweaty strands of hair as his companion stretches his metal fingers. You sway nervously by the table, twitching as you remind yourself how to do your job.
“Well, can I get ya started with coffee? You look beat from the road.” You beam with the smile Mr. Welk says could outshine the sun.
“Not just the road,” the dark-haired one mutters as he rolls his shoulder. The one that connects to his real arm. “I’ll take one, please.”
“Can I get an orange juice, please,” the Captain asks.
“Course ya can. I’ll be right back. You have a look at the specials and give it a think,” you bounce and spin around.
You go to pour the orange juice and a cup of black coffee. Darnell lingers by the window. He only ever really appears to put a plate up but he watches the new arrivals.
You bring their drinks and step back, clasping your hands behind you.
“Did ya need cream or sugar for your coffee, sir?” You ask.
“Black’s fine,” he assures.
“No need for the sirs. Steve, Bucky,” Captain America insists, “we’re off duty.”
“Right, sorry about that, ssss...Steve,” you correct yourself. “You need some more time?”
“Think I’m decided,” Bucky intones, “what about you?”
“Set,” Steve confirms, “I’ll have the sunny side up with toast and sausage. Can I get some fruit on the side as well, please?”
He hands over the menu and you take it as you hold your smile. Your cheeks ache. Not because you have to force it but because you can’t stop. This is the most exciting thing to happen in Tumble Down ever. If Darnell wasn’t there, no one would believe you.
“Overeasy, bacon, extra bacon too, and some french toast, and uh... home fries.” Bucky offers up the second menu, “please and thank you.”
“Alrighty,” you preen, “I’ll put your order in.”
“Got it,” Darnell growls over the empty diner.
“He’s got good hearing,” you giggle nervously as you look between the men. “Ummmm, sorry, I’ll leave ya be.”
“You’re not bothering,” Steve assures. “I can see you’re dying to ask.”
He gives a gentle smile.
“Nah, oh, gosh. I’m sure ya get it all the time. I don’t wanna be one of those,” you put your hands up. “Really, you all look like you could use the peace and quiet.”
“Well, actually, I’ve been stuck with this meathead for days,” Bucky scoffs, “so please, I’d love to hear someone else’s voice.”
You laugh again. They’re funnier than you expect. They always look so serious on the TV.
“What... what are y’all doing here in Tumble Down? It’s a bit far from... anywhere.” You ask sheepishly.
“Tumble Down? Is that what it’s called?” Steve scratches his neck above his stained collar. “Well, we couldn’t get a signal so we’ve just been riding through. Saw the sign down the way and figured we’d get a bite.”
“He’s lying. He was falling asleep on his bike,” Bucky teases.
“Sure,” Steve shakes his head. “Only ‘cause I’m tired of you.”
You giggle again, “I thought y’all were friends.”
“Friends, partners, cursed with each other, have your pick,” Bucky snorts.
“He’s playing,” Steve says. “Look, we’re boring. Despite what you think. We’re a couple of old men bickering with each other. What about you? What about Tumble Down?”
“Ah, nothing really, sir. Steve,” you squeeze the menus tight at the edges. “Nothing going on since the coal law and that. Everyone’s all but run out. All but us.”
“Just you? Your family?” Steve wonders.
“Jesus, Steve, nosy much?” Bucky says over the brim of his mug.
“Sorry. He’s right. Like I said. Crotchety old man. I talk to the pigeons.”
You laugh again, “oh my, you are a hoot!” You slap your thigh emphatically, “I’m still my ma and pa. It’s just the three of us. They need help with the animals and that.”
“Animals?” Steve wonders, his posture shifting towards you.
“Chickens, cows. They got a farm. Was my grandpa’s. And his ma kept it going after he didn’t come home from... well, you’d know more about that time than me, I think.” You give a forlorn look to the floor.
“Oh, I’m so sorry about your grandfather. Great grandfather,” he corrects himself.
“Lotta good men gone,” Bucky mulls grimly.
“Yeah, my great granny said as much. I wouldn’t know though, but I heard the stories,” you dare to look at them again. “Sorry to bring up the bad memories.”
“Nah,” Bucky waves you off casually. “I got this nifty arm outta it.”
“And I got a shield so, you know, not all losses,” Steve chuckles.
“I s’pose,” you agree. “I’m gonna check on that food for ya. You good with your coffee?”
Bucky raises the mug, “delicious.”
You nod and turn with a swish of your skirt. You go up to the window and look over the ledge. “How’s it going, Darnell?”
“Going. I’m happy it ain’t Raylene here. She’s got a mouth on her, don’t she? Them sort don’t deserve that trouble,” he tisks.
“They’re nice. And Raylene is too. She’s just... Raylene,” you say, “can I help with anything?”
“I don’t wanna be rude but I’m tired of tellin’ ya to stay outta my kitchen. You know the grill likes to spit,” he shakes his head. “You go, I’ll let ya know when it’s ready.”
“Alright,” you back away and turn back.
Steve and Bucky lean over the table, their voices low as they chat. As you move around behind the counter, they both sit up and the former clears his throat. You smile as you take the cloth from your apron pocket and wipe the already clean counter.
As the radio buzzes, you hum without thinking. Stevie Ray Vaughan’s smoky voice mingles with the emotion plucked through electric strings. Your dad’s a big fan. He has old tapes with concerts on them and even went to one himself.
The bell rings and you nearly jump out of your shoes. You turn and scoop up the plates as you thank Darnell. He grumbles that he’s going out to have a smoke; his code for having a Tootsie Pop by the backdoor.
You bring the meals over to the table and set them down before the men. Their gazes make you sweat. It’s all a little more intense with no one else there.
“Thank you,” Steve says and Bucky echoes him.
“Not at all. Anything else? Water? Ketchup?”
“It all looks great as is,” Steve says, “you got a nice voice.”
“Oh, really? Ha, I was just humming out of tune. Sorry if I was too loud.”
“Not at all,” Bucky picks up his fork as he leans forward. He tilts his head. “You know this one?”
“Sure do. It’s Fleetwood Mac,” you answer. “One my all times.”
He grins and nods as he looks at Steve. Steve watches you with a smile of his own.
“Do you sing?” He asks.
“Me? Only in my shower or to the chickens. They usually hide in the henhouse then.” You tinkle with laughter.
“Ah,” Steve nods.
“But if... if ya really wanna suffer, I could try it,” you smile, “but uh, you know, Stevie Nicks, she’s one of a kind.”
“I’ve had worse,” Steve says.
You look between him and Bucky. You chew your lip and think. You follow the song as you try to recognise which verse it is. You squint and perk up as you catch your place.
“You just let me know when you’ve had enough,” you say before you start. Not only can you tell your pa that you met the super soldiers, you can tell him you sang for them. It’ll be a nice bit of excitement for the dinner table.
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Here is the smut side story that goes with this short story from the picture game.
It’s been a looonnngggg time since I’ve written smut and I’m sure it shows. I hope it’s not too bad though.
Warnings: Unprotected sex, body insecurities, general sex stuff nothing too crazy, crying after sex, everything is consensual
Dinner had been simple and light, not wanting to weigh yourself down. The conversation was fun with lots of smiles and laughter. It felt like old times which you and Yoongi were slowly getting back to. You were moving back into your once shared home bit by bit. Mae was taking all the changes surprisingly well but you really think it helps that she gets to see her daddy almost every day again so she didn’t really care about much else.
You’d gone to a couple therapy sessions with Yoongi and it was very beneficial to you both. You wished you’d gone sooner. His therapist loved the idea of slowly trying to introduce intimacy back into your lives. Which is what you did.
It started with Yoongi using his mouth and fingers to pleasure you on a couple occasions. You always felt terrible that he would never let you return the favor but he assured you he was okay doing without and you understood why so you never pushed him more than just offering.
But a couple weeks ago his doctor switched up his medicine to something new which was supposed to have fewer or lighter side effects. You didn’t want to rush him so you waited until he was ready and last night he asked if your parents would mind taking Mae for a night. He also asked you to bring over that one lingerie set. You played it cool but internally you were screaming with excitement.
And now here you were staring at yourself in the bathroom mirror. Instead of wearing the old piece you decided to start fresh and buy something new. You chuckled, not because of the way you looked or anything since Yoongi had been working double time to make sure you got your confidence back, but because you couldn’t believe the amount of money you paid for something with such little fabric.
It was weird feeling so nervous to have sex with your husband who you also had a child with so this wasnt anything new. You two used to rip each others clothes off and get right to it but now it felt so foreign and different.
You tied your robe shut and turned off the bathroom light.
Yoongi was sitting on the edge of the bed staring off into space. You knew he was already in his head, probably criticizing himself for things that didn’t even happen yet.
When he heard the door click shut he looked over and smiled.
He grabbed your hand and pulled you in-front of him to stand between his legs, “Come here baby.” You did as he said, starting to run your fingers through his hair to comfort him.
“I’m so nervous.”, he chuckled as he toyed with the string of your robe.
“It’s okay. I am too. But remember that it’s just me Yoongi and we’re gonna take it slow and we’ll work through it together.”
He leaned into your touch loving the way your hands felt on him.
His fingers had a slight shake to them as he pulled a little harder on the string.
“C-Can I?”, he asked.
You nodded, “Please.”
In one movement he pulled on the string releasing the hold it had on your robe. You shimmied your shoulders allowing the silk to slide down to the floor revealing the light blue lace and sheer fabric that adorned your body underneath it.
You felt self conscious and started to worry but any doubts you had were banished when Yoongi’s hands grabbed onto your hips giving them a light squeeze. He licked his lips as he looked you over once again. “Y/N you’re gorgeous and mine, all mine, all for me.”, you heard him mumbling as he placed sloppy kisses over the fabric, surprising you when his teeth lightly grazed your right nipple.
Slowly he helped you out of what you were wearing, his eyes not leaving you once.
“Umm something seems off about this situation right now.”, you giggled while pulling on the sleeve of his t-shirt since he was still fully clothed.
He helped you pull off the fabric tossing it aside before he lifted up so you could pull off the sweats he had been wearing leaving him in just his boxers.
Feverishly you leaned back in searching for his lips. Yoongi pulled you on top of him as he laid back on the bed. You straddled him trying to remember every touch and every spot that would get him going. Things started falling into place.
Your lips started on his neck sucking little bits before slowly trailing down his chest to his stomach and then just below his belly button.
You ran your tongue against the fabric of his boxers feeling him half hard but it got a reaction from him so you did it again this time with a little more pressure.
He moaned your name giving you confidence. You hooked a finger around the waistband of his shorts pulling them down and freeing his large cock that you hadn’t seen in ages. You had forgotten just how beautiful your husband was, every inch of him.
He wasn’t quite there yet but you were determined to bring him to full erection. You placed kisses on his thighs knowing that he liked to be teased. Your kisses turned into little licks that got closer and closer until you surprised him by taking him fully in your mouth. He groaned as his hips bucked up to meet your mouth. Slowly but steadily you bobbed your head up and down on his cock making sure to pay extra attention to the head just like he always liked.
You made sure to even reach up and give his balls a light squeeze knowing that usually increased his pleasure. After several minutes of this he was no harder than when you started.
Trying your best to mask your disappointment you leaned back to catch your breath while still stroking him with your hand.
You tried to go back in with your mouth but he stopped you, “Just forget it Y/N. It’s not going to happen.”
“Yoongs it’s okay. Don’t get upset. Let’s just take a break and we can try again. We have all night.”, you said trying to salvage the situation.
But he pulled on his shorts and walked out of the room leaving you there naked and alone.
Giving him a few minutes you slowly slid on his shirt that he had been wearing and walked out to find him. He was sat on the couch staring at the blank television.
When you got closer he finally looked up at you, “I’m sorry Y/N, I’m sorry I can’t be there for you in the ways you need me to be.”
You sighed feeling frustrated. Frustrated with yourself, frustrated with him for feeling like that, frustrated at the situation.
Gently you leaned him back against the couch and you straddled his lap. You were going to take charge and try things your way.
“Yoongi you’re thinking too much about it. You need to just relax and let your body feel.”, you mumbled into his lips while simultaneously grinding down on his soft cock. You could feel your arousal soaking through his shorts, “And even if we don’t get there tonight I’m perfectly happy just being close to you like this.”
Your words seemed to calm him and his body started to relax back into the couch.
With more force you pushed your wet cunt down on him harder this time while using the friction to get yourself off.
Yoongi’s hands were roaming your body until they settled on your hips helping to hold you down. He always had a thing for letting you use him as you pleased.
“Mmm baby, I don’t even need you inside me. I can cum just like this.”, you moaned in his ear.
He took the hem of the shirt you were wearing and pulled it over you throwing it across the room with force. You laughed until his mouth connected harshly with your left nipple while his large hands squeezed your breast together making a moan escape you.
His hips bucked up encouraging you to continue chasing your high when you felt his bulge growing. He was the hardest he’d been all night. Not wanting to draw attention to it you continued to grind down on him just like you had been. His shorts now soaked with a mix of your arousal and his pre cum.
“Do you trust me?”, you whispered in his ear before nibbling on the lobe.
“Mmhm with my life.”
You continued your movements until he was a mess under you and rock hard.
You lifted your hips up far enough that you could quickly move his shorts down freeing his red swollen cock allowing it to stand straight up. Before he could react you sunk down on him talking all of him in one shot.
The pain was immediately replaced by pleasure as you willingly accepted the familiar girth.
“Oh fuck”, he hissed feeling your warmth and wetness for the first time in over a year.
You gave it another moment for you both to adjust before you began to bounce up and down on his length.
Yoongi was a moaning cursing mess. His head rolling back with his mouth agape. His eyes squeezed shut as he soaked in the sensations and sounds around him. You took the moment to plant kisses along his jaw when he lunged forwarded capturing your lips with his instead.
You were trying your hardest to make sure he enjoyed this moment to the fullest. Using his shoulders for leverage you started bouncing up and down more aggressively letting his cock fully slip out of you before sheathing yourself again. The position giving Yoongi the one of the best views he’s ever seen between your body sliding up and down on his painfully hard erection and your boobs bouncing inches from his face. That combined with the sounds you were making were blissful and he found himself nearly finishing by surprise.
He gasped grabbing a hold of his cock to prevent you from slamming back down on it.
“Fuck sorry Y/N, I nearly came.”, he said out of breath.
You giggled giving him a few kisses before he removed his hand allowing you slip his cock back inside. Once again you began your movements but this time his hands clung to your waist, “Y/N go slow, please. I-I can’t last much longer. It’ll be even less if you keep this up.”, he panted.
“It’s okay Yoongs. Let go whenever you’re ready. I’ve got you.”, you said giving his shoulder a squeeze.
You obliged for a little though. Wanting to keep the feeling of him finally being inside you. You moved slowly, both of you watching as he slid in an out of you.
You started to pick up the pace again though. Your own high was close and you knew he was even closer. You could feel the way he twitched inside, his grip on your waist getting tighter, the concentration on this face as he tried to fight it. Skin on skin and ragged breathing the only sounds in the room.
“Y/N. I…I can’t. You have to stop. I’m gonna cum if you don’t stop.”, he cried into your chest.
“Then cum for me. I want to make you feel good. Fill me up baby. I know you want to.”
And that was the final push he needed.
He came inside you with a loud pornographic moan, his body shaking as you continued to ride him through his high wanting him to feel euphoric.
Somehow he still managed to bring his hand to your clit rubbing figure eights and willing himself through the over stimulation as you continued to ride him through your own high as well.
He leaned his forehead against your chest and you placed a kiss on the top of his head.
“Was that okay?.” you asked.
“Y/N, that was more than okay.”, he chuckled.
Both of you stayed like that for a minute because you were exhausted but also just genuinely enjoyed the intimacy that had been missing for so long.
“Thank you…thank you for not giving up on me.”, he sniffled and you realized he was crying.
“Don’t thank me. We’re in this together. No matter what. Everything will be okay.”, you said wiping away his tears with your thumbs.
He kissed you, “I love you Y/N, I love you so much.”
You kissed him again and again making sure he knew you loved him too.
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The reason people don’t want to work is that it’s just normal for them to be in bad work environments.
My issue with working at Walmart wasn’t the work itself I was doing. It was the circumstances around it. The concrete floor, lack of places to sit, having to put up with asshole customers, not getting time off for injuries, and bad pay.
If I had been given shock pads to stand on or a few chairs to rest on sometimes, if they paid me a livable amount of money and I was allowed to yell back at asshole customers, if they had given me any amount of training, I would happily work part time folding clothes all day and telling people where the swimsuit section is.
I’m a creative type. I’m a writer. I’m pretty smart, even. But if I could make a living folding shirts and listening to podcasts in one ear and helping people find the scented candles for 30 hours a week? I would. Leaves some mental space free for me to brainstorm. Lets me catch up on my reading with audiobooks.
But instead I was treated so badly by upper management and customers that I’m like legitimately a little frightened whenever I step into a Walmart now. And I only worked there for three months a few years ago.
I’m a good lower level worker. When I’m treated well. I like finishing tasks. I like being helpful. I like having some time to talk to coworkers and some time alone with my thoughts. I’m a frickin team player. And that’s how I was at my first job. I was treated well by my supervisor. I was trained. They were patient with me. I was so good at being low on the totem pole at that job because I was valued and felt like I was being listened to. I was able to sit still when there was nothing left to do which made it feel less bad when we were on a time crunch. I didn’t mind working hard at that job because it was fun even though I was doing all the low level stuff that the supervisors didn’t want do.
But at Walmart I was like that for all of two days. Then I figured out that nobody appreciated my work and if I worked in my normal people pleasing manner I’d kill myself because their standards were high and the rewards for meeting them were low.
So I slowed down. I started avoiding customers. I started taking a lot longer to get to my breaks and to come back from them. I became worse at my job because no matter how good I was at it there would be no reward, no appreciation, and I’d just be pushed further beyond my limits.
My only level of happiness from that job came from the people who were working with me. The old ladies and my department manager who made sure I wasn’t overextending myself. The one other young man working in the clothing department who always got sent with me to unload the heavy stuff and commiserated with me about the shoulder injuries, the hurting feet we were too young to have.
But none of that was enough to make me stay. We were constantly understaffed. I was constantly abused by customers and not able to do a thing about it. I was not paid much at all. So as soon as I had enough saved up for what I was trying to do and my last semester of college was about to start I handed in my two weeks.
I would have found a way to stay if I liked that job. If I liked that job I would’ve pushed myself to my mental limits to finish college and keep that job at the same time. Heck that job could’ve been a rest from college. A place to get away from it. But I hate that job so I got out as soon as I could.
I want to work. I want enough money to live sort of comfortably. I want to have some tasks to do to give my creativity a rest. I want to be a part of something. But the way that modern corporate run work environments are set up does not give me any of the things I actually want out of a job. And I think that’s the same for millions of people right now. A lot of people would happily spend their lives as a waitress or an Uber driver or a warehouse worker or a farmhand or any other “low skill” job you can possibly think of. But with the way the world works right now those jobs are absolutely miserable. It doesn’t have to be that way. I know because I’ve had a fulfilling part time minimum wage job that I looked forward to going to every week. A job where I was listened to and allowed to sit when I needed to. I miss that job. Especially now since I’ve realized that’s not the standard. It should be. People should look forward to going to work or at the very least not get mild ptsd whenever they set foot into a Walmart.
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