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voylitscope · 1 year

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Stucky Recs: Brooklyn Stories for Brooklyn Boys

It's Brooklyn story time.

Obviously, a lot of Stucky fics are technically Brooklyn stories. Theoretically, all pre-canon fics are Brooklyn stories.

But. I have weirdly specific rules about it for the purposes of this rec list. To be a Brooklyn story, Brooklyn itself has to be part of/very relevant to the story somehow. Brooklyn can't just be the setting/location. So, as an example, a fic Steve and Bucky spend the entirety of inside their pre-war apartment is a story that takes place in Brooklyn, but it is not a Brooklyn story.

These twelve fics are Brooklyn stories.

Note: As part of my personal campaign to combat the persistent idea that every great fic in this fandom was written in 2015, I'm now marking recs of fics written post-2016 and recs of fics written post-Endgame.

Canon Brooklyn Boys

🚉 Nice Work If You Can Get It | reserve | Mature | 12,900 words|

Hi, have you read this delight of a pre-war fic featuring Steve and Bucky befriending showgirls? Because if you haven't, you absolutely should. I always enjoy a pre-war fic that leans heavily into Steve's art as a plot point, and a Steve who hangs out backstage at a theater and gets paid to draw posters/fliers? I love it. We've also got a Bucky who spends a couple thousand words trying to understand why Steve spending so much time with very pretty showgirls and drawing them bothers him so much, and then another several thousand words actively pining (while working at a theater!) after he figures it out.

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Bucky resists the urge to drop his head into his hands and mope. Instead, he gathers himself up, and splashes cold water over his face at the kitchen sink. He pulls the dingy quilt off their sofa, grabs his Luckies, a book, and the mug, and takes himself out onto the fire escape.

Outside, he curls up with his back against this crumbling brick, and his workboots against the iron railing. He tucks the blanket around himself to keep the chill at bay, lights up a cigarette and wills away lingering arousal that won't quit. The cold air feels good on his hot face, and the coffee mug feels good in his cold hands. The cigarette smoke tugs the chilly air into his lungs with each drag, and he wishes he could burn his feelings away.

Williamsburg and the Domino plant feel very distant even though he’s still sore about the whole thing. He’s sore about Steve and he’s sore about Louise, and he’s extra sore about wanting Steve all to himself for reasons that go well beyond friendship. He's sore all around, right down to his heart.

🚉Ill With Want | thedoubteriswise | Mature | 26,99 words | *Post-2016 Rec*

This is a pre-war gem, and it's one of my very favorites. It's sweet, aching, and laced with humor, and the Bucky voice, the Bucky and Steve dynamic/relationship, and the overall characterization are just beautifully done. Honestly, I've read this fic a few times, and I think I love it a little more every time I do. Featuring a Steve who both makes and teaches art, a Bucky who tries and fails miserably at not being desperately in love with Steve, a late 1930s Brooklyn gay bar Bucky visits with wide eyes, parties and classrooms filled with Brooklyn artists, a very earnest conversation over library books about Watson and Holmes' possible feelings for each other, and Steve getting paid to draw porn.

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Bucky’s stupid with how much he wants him, too crazy over his long eyelashes and narrow hips to read anything clearly. Is Steve thinking about kissing Bucky too, or does Bucky just wish he was?

He pictures confessing, but all he can imagine is Steve rejecting him.

The thing is, he knows how kind he’d be. He’d tell Bucky how much he cares about him, how flattered he is that of all the guys Bucky’s fucked up heart could want, it landed on him. He’d say how much he wishes he could give Bucky what he wants, and he’d mean it, because Steve loves making him happy. For all his piss and vinegar, Steve’s the gentlest guy on earth when he’s got someone’s heart in his hands. Bucky should know; that’s where his has been for as long as he can remember.

Bucky would nod and try to brush it off, act like it’s nothing but a crush that’ll go away with time. He would have a definitive ‘no,’ and maybe he could move on, but it would be like having his heart cut out with nail scissors - slow, careful, and excruciating beyond belief.

🚉Painted in Indigo | nekare | Mature | 11,031 words

Another charming pre-war delight. I really enjoy the way Steve's thought process is written here, and I love the dynamic between Steve and Bucky. This fic features a lot of Steve, who knows how he feels about Bucky, trying to puzzle out and rationalize Bucky's actions in a way that makes them completely platonic. Because obviously, they must be, right? Also featuring a revelation on a sunny birthday afternoon in Prospect Park.

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He’s rougher with the bruise high on Steve’s cheek, clearly still mad. When he reaches his split lip though, his touch gentles, dabbing at it until all the blood is gone, but instead of moving his hand it stays there, thumb moving until it’s resting against his mouth, so softly Steve can barely feel it. When he looks up, Bucky is staring transfixed at his fingertips on Steve, his own lower lip between his teeth. He looks a bit dazed, and the full weight of his attention makes Steve’s heart quicken.

He smells good, slightly sweaty and a bit sweet from the peach canning factory he works in. Steve will never breathe a word of it, but he’s absurdly fond of these moments, with Bucky so close in between his legs, his hands soft on Steve’s hair as he moves his head. Sometimes he forgets himself, probably muscle memory from being with some girl, and he rubs little circles on Steve’s neck, and Steve will invariably end up squirming with want.

“What,” he finally says when the moment stretches for too long.

🚉Take Your Time Coming Home | odetteandodile | Mature | 13,047 words | *Post-2016 Rec*

Technically, this is a pre-war AU and not quite canon. Or, maybe it's more like canon divergence preventing them from becoming inseparable as kids, but leaving them both in Brooklyn and hyper-aware of each other, and having them still end up obsessed with each other, living together (and inseparable) by their early twenties. Can canon diverge two decades before canon actually starts? Is that a thing? I have no idea, but I absolutely love this fic. Featuring many discussions of 1930s Brooklyn gay bars, falling in love through letter writing, a very uncooperative bed, a highly memorable birthday celebration, ID porn, and the unfairly charming and adorable mental image of kid Bucky being amazed by scrappy and angry kid Steve, even when they didn't know each other.

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“Oh Steve,” says a soft, deep voice above him—decidedly not his mother’s, “you idiot I told you to stay dry…”

It takes a few more moments for Steve to process that there is a cool, soothing hand on his forehead. But it’s not his mother’s smooth, slim one, but large and calloused…

The dream finally fades entirely, his still feverish brain slow to find the line between it and reality. But once it does, he forces himself to open his burning, bleary eyes. And he immediately wonders if he actually has awoken, or if the scene around him is just a new product of his sick-addled hallucinations.

There’s daylight in the apartment, and he’s shivering under only one of the four blankets he’d initially fallen asleep beneath.

And Bucky Barnes is sitting beside him on the edge of the bed, a hand on Steve’s forehead and a look of deep concern across his face.

🚉Three White Horses | magdaliny | Mature | 16,601 words | *Post-2016 Rec*

Moving from Pre-war to this canon divergence post-TWS fic. I should note that this one isn't a light read. However, that's primarily because this fic allows Steve to be really, really not okay. This fic sits with Steve in low and depressed places and stays with him as he hits rock bottom. It doesn't turn away. It's brutal, but gorgeous too. It's heavy, but it gives Steve, and Steve's grief, the respect they deserve. And, eventually, it pulls him out. Steve's devastation has him running home in this fic, and Brooklyn serves as both a hideout and a painful reminder of the things he can never get back. The depiction of Steve and Bucky's relationship, both in Steve's memories of the past, and in the place this fic eventually ends up, is stunningly beautiful. (There's a happy ending here.)

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Steve, still too sweaty-palmed to tear anything up without sticking to it, had set a fire on a broken plate with one of his asthma cigarettes and was feeding it strips of paper. He'd glanced over to find Bucky looking more miserable than any human being has a right to look, talking as evenly as he was, and Steve had almost put one knee in the fire trying to reach him.

“I don't wanna lose you too,” Bucky'd said, high and off-balance, when Steve grabbed his arm.

Steve had apologized and hugged him hard enough to hurt them both, and Bucky'd ended up taking him to bed. They hadn't slept. In the morning Steve had felt bee-stung, battered: but thawed out. In the Arctic there's whole months where the sun doesn't come up over the horizon, and in real life that first day is probably just a momentary sliver of light, but Steve didn't know that at the time, and he'd imagined a luminous dawn. Moments later he hadn't needed to imagine it any longer, because there wasn't anything in the world more luminous than Bucky's face, barely awake and entirely uncensored: his eyes when he looked at Steve.

But Bucky isn't here.

(Note: I debated properly putting This, You Protect in this post. But A) it straddles the line of qualifying as Brooklyn fic for the purposes of the list, and B) it's such a beloved fandom classic that I feel pretty sure the large majority of people have already read it. That said, if you haven't read it, you very much should.)

Brooklyn Shrunkyclunkys

🚇Beyond the Yellow Book Road | crinklefries | teen | 30,057 words | **Post-Endgame Rec**

This is a very, very pretty fic, and Steve and Bucky are very, very cute about each other in it. It's a heartwarming read and one of those specific sorts of Shrunkyclunks where meeting Bucky brightens a recently brought-out-the-ice-Steve's whole life in all of about an hour — where it changes Steve's whole life within a few weeks. It's one of those fics where Steve is still trying to make sense of the 21st century, and it's meeting Bucky that helps more than anything else. Featuring books, flirting, slow burn, snow, and some slow dancing.

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Slowly, Steve stops needing an excuse to come back. He treads the quickly familiar streets up through Williamsburg as often as he can—during the week, on the weekend, before missions, and definitely after missions.

He’s passing by after grabbing brunch with Natasha and Clint one day—apparently the future is obsessed with mashing breakfast and lunch foods together and drowning both with a side of mimosas—and sees a new display of books in the window. He goes in.

“Buck?” Steve calls, before even looking for him. “What’s the Golden State killer and why is it the ‘Hot Staff Pick of the month’? Also is the pick hot or is the staff hot? It’s very unclear.”

“Both, Steve,” Bucky says, coming down the stairs at the back of the store. He has a rubber band in his mouth and he’s putting his hair up. Tendrils of curls hang loose, framing his face, and Steve feels an almost indiscernible lurch in his chest. “The correct answer is both.”

🚇Not In The Answer But The Question | aimmyarrowshigh @aimmyarrowshigh | Teen | 27,382 words | **Post-Endgame Rec**

Steve's difficult relationship with being both Steve Rogers and Captain America, and his ability to possibly reconcile those things while still letting any Steve show through is always one of my favorite things to see tackled in fic. This fic does it so gorgeously. This is a Steve who starts this fic so lost, but who is able to find bits of his past and of himself — who is then able to find a real direction, a purpose, for his future. There's so much warmth and hope in this fic, tied to an incredibly kind and gently encouraging Bucky and the relationship they slowly and satisfyingly build.

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Natasha climbs one of Steve’s legs like she’s a boa constrictor. “You seem happier.”

“I’m a happy guy,” Steve says, deadpan, as he tries to shake her off.

“You’re a terrible liar.” Natasha manages to get onto his back and starts to slam her elbows into the top of his head. “You’re a lot of things, Rogers, nice things, even, but you’re not a happy guy.”

Steve’s ears are ringing by the time he flips Natasha off his shoulders and onto the mat.

He kneels on her sternum.

“Maybe not,” he admits. “But nobody asked Captain America to be happy.”

🚇Love Thy Neighbor | hermionesmydawg | Mature | 7,842 words

A fic featuring a Bucky and Steve who annoy each other at first. It lasts less than a week. Nomad Steve is a Brooklyn vigilante. Bucky's a nurse whose new neighbor is a hot irritating vigilante who is making Bucky think there might have been truth to those Captain America rumors after all. Such a fun read. I also really appreciate that at one point in this fic, an injured Steve seeks out his new neighbor and is like, "I've seen you in scrubs are, you a doctor?" When Bucky says he's a nurse, Steve tells him that's better.

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He helps walk Steve the short distance to his apartment. The idiot didn't even lock the door, what the hell is wrong with this guy? "I'll check on you after work tomorrow. Try not to get shot or stabbed in the next twenty-four hours, okay? I'd hate to have to threaten you with a lamp in my underwear again."

"You threatening me with a lamp in your underwear was basically the highlight of my year, but I'll be on good behavior."

Bucky blinks. That's it. That's all.

"G'night Bucky." Then Steve's closing the door in Bucky's shocked face, because he's just not good at this. Snark he can do all day but that was genuine, maybe.

Modern Brooklyn AUs

🏬If This is as Far as We Go | BeauRadley | Mature | 124,186 words | **Post-Endgame Rec**

You know how sometimes a fic hits you a lot harder than you think it will? This fic is about a Steve and Bucky who were totally just friends with benefits. No feelings involved! So now things have ended and they're completely fine, of course. Which — 10/10 tropes I am always here for. Sign me up. This fic, though, is also about a Steve who has shut down more than he realizes, and who has built walls around himself made of his own guilt. (Wow, what a Steve thing to do!) This is about pain Steve isn't even letting himself acknowledge, but that's keeping him away from so many things — Bucky, Brooklyn itself, and his own happiness. it's a huge journey for Steve, who, honestly, starts this fic in a pretty terrible mental health place. It's incredibly well done, and the ending really got to me. There's also a fantastic, hard stuff handled really well, Bucky family subplot.

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But Bucky turned right, leading straight in that direction instead of left, the way Steve had come. It made sense, of course. Right took them into the heart of the neighborhood, to the cluster of coffee shops and diners, bars and bakeries, that made up the fabric of the place.

Bucky started walking, shoving his phone, keys and wallet into his pockets as he did so, but Steve stood for a moment, debating. He couldn’t pass up this chance with Bucky, the only one he might ever get, but passing his mom’s apartment?

Bucky looked over his shoulder. “You comin’ or what, Rogers?” he asked, a little impatiently.

Steve opened his mouth, closed it again. Tried to form words. He didn’t want to sound pathetic, refusing to walk past his childhood home like it still had some power over him, like he was weak. “I…” he began, and then understanding seemed to dawn on Bucky. His expression, before a little disgruntled, softened.

“Hey,” he said, and his tone was kind. “I forgot. First time back here since your mom, yeah?” Steve nodded, not trusting himself to speak in case he started to cry.

🏬6 Avenue Local | mambo | teen | 10,630 words | *Post-2016 Rec*

Listen, it's a childhood-friends-Steve-and-Bucky surprise reunion on the subway. They also go to Coney Island! A fun as hell one-shot with plenty of feelings, really great banter, and a generous pinch of Bucky angst. Really delightful and really charming.

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Steve snorts. “Yeah, I’ve got a boiled chicken breast in my pocket right now,” he says. “Want some?”

“Depends — which pocket has it been in?”

“Front left,” Steve says.

“Then nah.” Bucky picks up his milkshake and starts sipping it through the straw.

“And why’s that?” Steve asks, curious about Bucky’s logic here.

Bucky puts his glass down and swallows. He gesticulates with his hand while he talks; the movements are achingly familiar to Steve. Even if Bucky’s appearance has changed, this hasn’t. Bucky had always been a storyteller with a dramatic flair. Everyone’s eyes would be on him when he started to speak. Only Bucky Barnes could make a conversation about pocket chicken and make it interesting. “If it’s in the front pocket, it’d be lukewarm. Back pocket? It’d be warm. Simple as that. I don’t want to eat lukewarm pocket chicken. Warm pocket chicken? I could be convinced under the correct circumstances.”

🏬A long way from the playground | tesselated | Explicit | 27,366 words

One of the things I adore about this fic is that Bucky's POV voice thinks about things like how, these days, he only sees Steve, like, once a week, most weeks, and how he misses him, okay? And Steve and Bucky have conversations about how sometimes, they hang out but there are other people there too, and ugh, they miss being roommates. Which is exactly as weirdly codependent and obsessed with each other as I like my Steve and Buckys who grew up together to be. There is also a lot of Becca Barnes in this fic, and I always very much appreciate that. Plus: It's fake dating! For Becca's wedding!

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“Hi, Steve. Please eat something, you’re making me weak just looking at you.” Bucky’s mom says, but she grins at Steve while she says it.

Steve grins sheepishly and picks up a plate from the kitchen counter, piling brisket onto it dutifully.

Bucky’s family love having Steve at family functions as much as he enjoys being there, and a main reason is that he is a scrawny empty vessel for them to place their ill-founded worries about their own children starving into. Steve, bless him, has never fought it, always nodding seriously as if he agrees that if he doesn’t eat another serving he may actually die.

🏬Last Train Home (series) | sparkagrace @sparkagrace | Teen | 20,470 words | **Post-Endgame Rec** A series and not a single fic, but Very Brooklyn and Very recommend. This is a modern Steve and Bucky who fall for each fast and proceed to be the sweetest and most romantic about it. I love this series and the way it shows this relationship in moments, both tiny everyday ones and massive big deal ones as these two fall even harder and join their lives together. It's a complete delight and never fails to be incredibly heartwarming.

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Since that night in the bar, everything with Bucky has felt so surreally right. He knows his friends accuse him of falling fast occasionally, but this time there’s something stirring in his gut that’s telling him that he was meant to be at that bar that January night. He was meant to witness Bucky on a terrible date with someone who only sounded good on paper and checked all the right boxes, but wasn’t the right person at all. His mom likes astrology and believes in things happening for a reason, something that Steve used to struggle with believing in too, but he can’t deny that maybe there is something up there that set this collision course for them to meet.

Steve has fallen fast and he’s fallen hard, and reasonably it could all end tomorrow, but Steve also knows that this is forever.

(Somewhere, deep down, he thinks that Bucky might feel the same way too.)

Bonus:

👕Thursday Nights with Bucky Barnes | Ellessey | Teen | 4,662 |**Post-Endgame Rec**

Truly, we're so very fortunate to have fics in every trope/au type imaginable in Stucky fandom — Including ones that don't really show up in other fandoms. I don't mean the obvious ones like Shrunkyclunks/Shrinkyclinks here. No, I mean, I have personally read at least four fics about Steve and Bucky meeting and then hooking up at a laundromat. And, while this is not, you know, never a thing in other fandoms, I feel like that is a disproportionate and oddly large amount to have accidentally run into. I have to think this is, at least in large part, connected to the Brooklyn thing. Which is why, even though it doesn't technically fit my rules, I'm sticking a very fun example of a laundromat fic on this list, featuring a grouchy skinny Steve and charming as hell Bucky, who is hopelessly charmed by Steve at first sight.

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"You're… how are you asking that?" Bucky says, sounding genuinely baffled. "You're gorgeous, you teach little kids, save the planet, befriend curmudgeonly old men—" "Berate strangers for cleaning too much…"

Bucky grins and shrugs his big, perfect shoulders. Steve is fighting such a losing battle here. They're standing so close together now that he has to look up, which he hates, as a rule. But Bucky's pecs are at eye level, and then the stubble on his jaw, the little shadows below his broad cheekbones, and that lock of hair curling over his forehead are all happening above that, so… what the hell. Looking up isn't so terrible.

Up next: Cabin and small town recs.

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