#That when they blushed rather than their skin changing colour their fur would fluff out over their whole body haha

[sysig]

New dream OCs drop (Patreon)

[tilltheendwilliwrite]

I love the way you write Bucky - maybe a drabble with an OFC would be fun? Something sweet? :)

Kittens and Connection

Pairing: Bucky x OFC  |  Word Count: 2465 (my drabble got away from me)

Warnings: Fluff and a little angst with a pinch of smexy

“What the hell was that?“ Bucky murmured as he paused in the opening of the alley he’d been passing.  When the sound came a second time, he took a tentative step into the dingy space and frowned.

It sounded like a baby but who would leave a baby here? 

He got closer to the dumpster and realized the soft crying was coming from beneath it. Panic filled him, and he jumped into action, shoving the dumpster out of the way. “Oh, thank god,” he sighed when he realized it was only a couple of kittens. But his relief was short lived when the pile of rags they were crawling over turned out to be the thin, grungy body of what had once been their mother. 

“Poor things,” he sighed, wondering what to do now. It was far too cold for them to be out here alone, and they were much too young to survive by themselves. The only thing he could think to do was take them to the vet’s office he passed on his walk every day.

Bucky pulled his scarf from his throat and wrapped it around the two kittens before tucking them into his chest and heading out of the alley. It was a quick walk in biting wind with the snow just starting to fall until he was pushing into the heat and warmth of the brightly lit but tiny office space.

“Hi, sorry I‘m just getting ready to close up so unless this is an emergency, I’m afraid you’ll have to come back tomorrow,” said the woman in the white coat.

Her shock of short cropped pink hair gave Bucky pause. “Uh… are you the doc?”

“I am.” She turned around and seemed to startle at the sight of him. 

He felt the same about her. She was beautiful but so different looking. There was a tattoo on her neck, paw prints which descended from behind her ear and more peaking out from the collar of her button-up shirt. Her hair spiked up on top of her head but was close-cropped on the sides and a vibrant dark pink, a ring pierced her left eyebrow, and a stud her nose. She wore copious rings and had lavender painted nails. 

He swallowed the lump in this throat and held out the squirming bundle. “I found these guys in an alley. Their ma didn’t make it.”

“Oh!” Her entire demeanour changed from wary uncertainty to concerned animal lover in an instant. “Room one.” She pointed. “Just let me get the door.”

Bucky headed into the exam room and set the kittens down on the steel table. They meowed pitifully, prompting him to scratch the white one behind its ear, and the orange one under its chin.

They looked young, but not so young they would need round the clock care. Both seemed abnormally thin, scruffy, and filthy, but they purred and scampered closer to climb with their tiny claws up his coat. “Hey. What’s the big idea, huh? No bigger than a flea and attacking someone bigger than you?” he chuckled softly and shook his head. “Should call you Punk and Rogers. You’re just like little Steve.”

“Oh, good! You’re going to keep them. I wondered,” the doc said as she walked in and shut the door behind her.

“Huh!” Bucky gasped.

“Well, you named them. That’s usually a good indicator of someone willing to keep what they’ve rescued.” She sidled up beside him and cooed as she tapped her fingernails on the table and drew the orange kitten to pounce on her hand. “I’m Lark Waverly, by the way, resident vet and clinic owner.” She smiled at him even as she bowled the kitten to its back.

“Uh… Buck-Bucky,” he almost squeaked.

“Well, Buck-Bucky, were your parents also bird lovers?”

“Huh?”

Her eyes were full of laughter. “Buck-Buck… buccaw?”

The chicken noise had a smirk twitching his lips even as pink burned his cheeks. “Cute, doll. It’s James, actually, but I go by Bucky.”

“Ah, so it’s my stunning good looks which made you stammer?” she quipped as she picked up the kitchen and looked it over.

“Somethin’ along those lines, yeah.”

She flashed him a brilliant grin and changed kittens. “So, James who goes by Bucky, you found them in an alley?”

“Yeah. Huddled up with their mom.”

Lark, for he could no longer think of her as the doc when her name fit her to a T, tsked sadly. “Poor babies. Good thing you found them. It’s cold enough out there they wouldn’t have made it through the night.” She worked in silence for a few minutes before giving a definitive nod. “You’ve got two rather thin but moderately healthy little boys. They need a bath and to fill their bellies, but I’d estimate them to be eight weeks. We’ll put them on soft food, deal with the filth and fleas, and see how they do.”

She shrugged out of her lab coat, and Bucky blinked at her left arm. Her shirt might be a button up, but it had no sleeves leaving her arm bare for viewing. The entire thing was covered in abstract ink with feathers and pretty birds.

“Wow,” he murmured before he could stop himself.

“I like my ink,” she said, throwing him a wink. “Roll up your sleeves, chicken man. Let’s get these two bathed, and I’ll get you what you need to get them started so we can both head home before the storm gets worse.”

“Uh…” Bucky hesitated but she arched a sleek dark brow, and he found himself shrugging out of his jacket under the don’t make me make you glare. He reached for the white kitten, the one he decided was Punk, only to have Lark’s breath catch.

“Oh, I see. Is that going to be a problem? Can you get it wet?” she asked, touching his hand when he pulled the glove off.

“You don’t have a clue who I am, do you?” Bucky asked, a smirk twitching his lips as he pushed the sleeve to his elbow, revealing more of his arm.

She frowned for a minuted, looked from his hand to the arm slowly being revealed and her eyes grew round. “My god… Bucky Barnes. Well, shit.”

Not quite the reaction he was hoping for, Bucky watched her pick up Rogers and take him to the sink where she began to run what he expected was warm water into the basin. “Is… am I… is this a problem?” he asked quietly, knowing a lot of people didn’t like or trust him still, even after all he’d done to prove he wasn’t that guy anymore. “I can take them somewhere else.”

Her head whipped around, a bright blush colouring her face. “No! I mean, it’s fine. They’re fine. You’re… f-fine.” Embarrassment seemed to flood her features and make her even more red-faced.

Arching a brow, Bucky picked up Punk and moved around the table to join her at the sink. Her hands shook as she reached for the bottle of shampoo above her, stretching up on her toes, and Bucky realized how short she was. Her fingertips just brushed the container, and he reached up and took it down for her.

“Hey… uh, I’m not gonna hurt you, dollface. If my being here is making you nervous, I can go wait out there.”

She snatched the bottle from his hand, twisted the water off with the other, and slammed the container down on the counter causing the two kittens to scamper toward him in fear. Lark instantly soothed their anxious mews with soft apologies and more of her quiet cooing, a sound which had parts of Bucky perking up in the same fashion as Rogers’ ears. 

“No, I’m sorry. It’s just… OMG, I’m such an idiot. You’re going to run for the hills,” she sighed and rubbed at her forehead. 

“Not much out there can make me rabbit, sweetheart,” Bucky chuckled. “Just spit it out.”

She picked up Rogers and put him in the sink, slowly cupping water over him by hand as he protested loudly. “You’re… kind of my hero,” she whispered. “It’s stupid, and you probably hear it all the time, but your story, how you came back from what Hydra did to you, it got me through a tough time in my life. Real tough. So tough that my first tattoo was this one.” She shook water from her fingers and tugged the collar of her shirt to the side, revealing a portion of a logo Bucky knew all too well above her left breast. 

“Howling Commando’s, huh?”

“Yeah.” She went back to bathing the kitten trying to claw its way out of the sink. “Seriously abusive relationship. There’s a reason I’ve got a sleeve full of tattoos. I’m better now. Hearing about your life and what you went through, how hard Captain Rogers,” she paused and smirked at the kitten before continuing,  “fought to help you, it reminded me there were people in my life who would help me if I only asked. So I asked, and they got me out, and he went to jail, and now I’m here, living the life I want because a man like you was brave enough to sit down with a reporter and talk about his experiences as a Hydra pawn. You, Bucky Barnes, saved my life. I just never expected to get to tell you so in person.” She sighed as she rinsed the shampoo out of the little orange guy’s fur. “And now I’ve probably made you super uncomfortable. I’ll understand if you want to find a new vet.”

Bucky couldn’t seem to find his tongue. He took another look, a harder look, at her arm and realized the reason her tattoo was so abstract was to hide the thick scars embedded in her skin. Circles from burns and jagged lines as if someone had sliced her open with a serrated blade. No, he knew it was a serrated blade. He knew knives and the damage they did to soft, delicate flesh. He knew the circles were likely where the asshole had put out cigarettes on her skin, yet, there she stood, looking shy and embarrassed and completely uncertain when only a few minutes ago she’d been full of spunk and sass.

“Is that why you startled when you saw me? Because I reminded you of… him?”

“No. Not at all. You’re just a big guy. He was a big guy, but he would never have come in dripping water, holding an orphaned pair of kittens. Maybe for a second, I had a moment of damn, but that’s just knee-jerk reaction to big guys wandering in my door when I’m alone.” She never bothered to look up as she wrapped Rogers in a towel and handed him to Bucky to dry off before starting the same treatment with Punk.

“So I don’t make you uncomfortable?”

“Oh, you make me uncomfortable,” she muttered. “Just not because you scare me.”

A smirk turned up his lips. “So… if I was to ask you out to dinner, would that help or make it worse?”

Her head finally lifted, and she levelled him a stare with her warm chocolate eyes. “Both.”

He chuckled softly and gently touched her cheek. “I think you’re the most unique woman I’ve ever met. I’d really like to get to know you better.”

A smile curled her lips. “Do you have a fetish for hero worship, Buck-Bucky?” she asked, the woman full of sass returning. 

“Hero worship? Nah. But a woman with a mouth on her… yeah, I can get behind that.”

“Mmm,” she purred, and her eyes turned sultry. “How kinky for an old guy.”

He belted out a laugh. “Cheeky dame!”

“So… dinner?” she smirked.

“Yeah, darlin’, and if you’re a good girl, I may even give you dessert.”

She finished with Punk and began drying him off as well. “I figured you would have figured out by now, chicken man, that I’m no angel.”

“A devil can still be good when she wants to be,” he crooned stepping closer.

“Some of us were just born to be bad,” she teased, also stepping closer until only the two kittens separated them. 

“I could get behind that too, baby,” he purred, returning his hand to her cheek but sliding it around to cup the base of her skull. He wasn’t sure he’d ever been so attracted to a woman before and found his gaze locked with her lush, unpainted mouth.

“You keep talking like that, we may not make dinner,” she murmured. “How’s a girl to concentrate when you keep bringing up her favourite position?”

“Damn, darlin’,” Bucky growled and dipped his head down to taste that wicked, tantalizing mouth, only to have his phone ring and break him out of the lust induced haze he’d been wrapped in. “Fuck,” he hissed and released her to dig for his phone.

Growling at the call display, he answered it with a, “What do you want, Punk?”

“Where the hell are you? How hard is it to go get the beer?” Steve huffed.

“I got…” he smirked at Lark, “distracted.”

“Well, hurry up! We’re not holding the movie for you forever!” Steve paused before an exasperated sigh reverberated in his ear. “You met a girl, didn’t you?”

“Rescued a couple of sweet cats,” Bucky snickered. 

“Yeah? You need help?” Steve was suddenly all business.  

“Nah, I got it handled. A civilian assisted in their rescue.”

“Really?” Steve sounded impressed.

“Yeah. I’ll be back later. Start the movie and tell Stark to order in the beer.” Bucky hung up before Steve could ask any more questions. “How about that dinner, doc?”

“Well,” her eyes twinkled, “these two really should dry out before you take them home. We could always order a pizza.”

“Pizza’s good. Then,” he stepped back into her space, “maybe we can discuss these bad girl qualities of yours.”

Her brow arched, her smile turned wicked, and she sauntered away toward the back rooms of the clinic. “Maybe we can. After all, I live right upstairs.”

“Damn,” Bucky wheezed and looked down at Rogers. “I don’t care what Stark says. I’m keeping you two furballs.” They’d brought him to Lark, and he was already feeling the strong pull of his heart in her direction. 

When she leaned back around the corner and smiled at him, he knew he wasn’t the only one. “Coming, Sergeant?”

“Yeah, darlin’.” If he had his way, they both would be by the end of the night.

-The End -