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vostok3-ka · 4 months ago

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Thank you so much for the tag for the WIP word game @bromcommie I adore adore ADORE these games and I also love sharing my WIPs haha, and it's really fun! Also I got phantom tagged by @gyokujyn so I'm taking this as an opportunity to share even MORE snippets hehe!

Choke

This is for a fic I'm writing for my dear friend @mohish-ko who is a lovely lovely person and a wonderful artist, and it's based on her drawing where Bucky fights the Winter Soldier! I think this fic will actually be done very very soon!

Bucky lets go in a flash, and the Soldier, unbalanced all of a sudden, shoots his arm out to keep himself from meeting the ground face first, but as soon as himself more or less under control, Bucky is already straddling his back, twisting both the Soldier’s metal arm and flesh one under him, stabilizing himself by kicking a foot up, against the cobblestones. The Soldier gasps in surprise, struggling, but Bucky has him thoroughly tangled. “I know these moves inside out,” he hisses, and the Soldier pulls up his knee, craning his neck to lift it off the ground. The mask scrapes as Bucky presses his head down before he sits on the Soldier’s arms, and wraps his own arms around his neck, squeezing hard. The Soldier kicks out, wriggles, and grunts as he presses his chin inwards in an attempt to loosen the choke, but Bucky keeps firm. He can feel the Soldier’s pulse slow down, his jugular pulsing against his flesh arm, and it isn’t long before he stops fighting back altogether. Giving the Soldier’s throat a last squeeze for good measure, he lets go, and straightens, stepping over the limp body. Bends down and turns him so that he lays back down on the ground, then unfastens the mask and hooks it onto one of the straps on the Soldier’s harness that he knows from experience is specifically made to hold the mask. He steps around so that he stands by his head, then leans over and rolls the Soldier back onto his stomach so that he can get him into a fireman’s carry.

Dark

This fic is one that has uh... 3k words of NO DIALOGUE! I don't know how well it's written, and I'm struggling a lot with the plot, but I love the idea to bits and I will power through it till the end cause I want the idea out there! It's about Bucky going to an old bunker where they did sleep experiments on him during the USSR because he cannot sleep and he wants answers.

Bucky’s breath flutters in his chest, and he feels incredibly weak all of a sudden, lightheaded, like there is static in his ears, crowding his hearing; with a start he realizes he is going to pass out, so he steps inside fully, taking long, quick steps towards the cot before sitting down and sticking his head in between his legs. Takes a deep breath in. Then out. The static dims somewhat, but the lightheadedness still has a grasp over him, so he simply just- breathes. Breathes until he is confident he can raise his head without the world creeping in darkly, so he does so, leaning back a little, setting his palms flat on the mattress by his sides. He raises his eyes. There is a small, dark, speaker in the corner at the back where the ceiling meets the wall, and Bucky scoots backwards so that his shoulders touch the wall. Stands up on the cot. The metal creaks. He pulls out one of his guns from its holster, the SIG-Sauer. Clicks the safety off. Reaches out with his right hand to cock it, and curls a metal finger over the trigger. Raises his arm. Lines the front sight up with the rear of the gun slightly below the speaker. He doesn’t close an eye; shooting with both eyes open is something he’d mastered many decades ago. Breathes in. Out. He shoots in the moment before the inhale.

Press This fic was originally for Whumptober 2024 but it's November right now so hah! But I liked the idea of Walker and Bucky interacting more, and it's for the prompt "Starvation", where I made it so Bucky hasn't eaten in a while and well... it doesn't go so good!

Bucky looks down at his wrist, and his heart drops like it is made out of lead. The scarring on his wrist never did heal up, not after that terrible night in 1948. Heavy iron floods his nose, and his nostrils flare, glancing at the paramedic with eyes that are a little too wide, a little too pleading. A little too cornered. The paramedic, to his credit, doesn’t let his professionality slip, instead simply looks up at Bucky and tilts his hand subtly so that his wrist is out of Walker’s line of sight. Bucky wants to sob, but he doesn’t, instead grinding his teeth together in that bad habit of his he’d always had, and stares at his knees. Embarrassment flushes through him, hotly, and he wants to go home, wants to curl up with Alpine in front of the television on the floor, listening absently to the hum of ice-hockey play on the screen, but there are still hours of this damn flight left, and the urge to shoot himself flashes through his mind again. There are fingers pressed against his wrist, the feeling soothing in its old fashioned-ness, and as the paramedic counts under his breath, Bucky has the rising suspicion that the action is purposeful, but his senses feel dulled and it is tiring to think so he doesn’t pay it any mind. Walker is busy on his phone, and the paramedic finishes his counting, before saying low, “Tachycardia, Sergeant Barnes. You’ve got to stay sitting down or you will pass out.” “Fine.” Bucky answers shortly, and the paramedic reaches out to grab the wrapped IV port.

Memory

This is something I started writing last year when I was nineteen and kind of starting to get into the Soldier's time in the USSR. I do intend to finish this fic, but I simply don't remember what I wanted the plot to be lmao...

Gentle moonlight seeped in through windows, blanketing the Soldier in a soft silver glow. Stars flickered and winked cheekily outside, and the Soldier stared up at them from the little cot he was laying on. Fabric covered metal pressed into both his left and right wrists, as well as his legs, effectively strapping him down to the cot. The mattress was not too soft, and not too hard, and by all means, the Soldier should have been comfortable, but he had his jaw set uncomfortably, shifting his left shoulder every now and then. The paint on the ceiling was, for once, not cracked, and the Soldier felt horribly out of place without the familiar spiderwebs criss-crossing into each other in all sorts of shapes and forms. He was bare chested. They had taken his shirt from him, leaving only his combat pants and boots, sans laces, and yet, warmth seeped into him. They’d warmed the room somehow, and an ever constant wave of confusion washed against the Soldier’s mind, lap-lapping at the inside of his skull like a dog sniffing around for something sustainable, something known. The Soldier did not know what was known and what was unknown. Something had shifted in his mind, something big, a behemoth he couldn’t see, couldn’t feel. Something- and a faint memory of Lovecraftian giants brushed its soft fingers against his mind’s eye. The Soldier shuddered fully, so roughly that his metal hand thudded against the cuff. Something was out there, something. Yet- The Soldier jerked against his restraints, growling slightly when they did not budge. God. He wanted out. He needed to stay. He was sick. But he wanted out. He hated the feeling of being strapped down, hated the anger it ignited in his chest, Chyort! He jerked his arms again and then once again. Nothing. Giving up, he turned his face to the side, chest heaving in irritation. His entire body tingled, like electricity was shooting through his senses, mildly, just underneath his skin, and static shushed in his ears.

Home

This is also from the fic for Mohish! Just the very very beginning paragraphs!

Riga, Latvia. It is cold when the wind snakes through the city’s old buildings, slipping over cobbled streets like a python, slithering over Bucky’s shoulders and reaching its fangs out to strike at his nose and cheeks, nipping them a faint pink. Cigarette held loose between his metal fingers, he leans against the front door of Zemo’s Riga home, blue leather jacket hugging his torso and shoulders, soothing in the way it holds him tight; he is himself well aware of his affinity for leather. It is familiar, safe, and he taps his finger against his cigarette, ash drifting down upon the porch like gray snow, light and carried slightly by the breeze. Raises his hand to his mouth. Takes a drag of his cigarette, and the nicotine unfurls blooming petals in his lungs, knocking against the back of his throat pleasantly before he lets it all out with a breath. The smoke curls prettily into the air, disappearing in the very fabrics of the streetlamp-lit night. Running his free hand through his hair, he tugs at it, spiking it up. The short hair feels odd, strange. Not unfamiliar, but rather nostalgic, too familiar. He’d had short hair as often as he’d had long during his time in the USSR. The signature long haired look had only come into play during his Hydra years. Bucky taps his cigarette again, takes one last drag, then snuffs it out against his pants. The heat burns, but his pants are thick enough to withstand it and Bucky doesn’t hiss in the searing pain. He can hear the low murmur of Sam talking to Zemo inside, his enhanced hearing just strong enough to pick up the sound without making out the words. Contrary to popular belief, his serum isn’t actually as strong as Steve’s. It’s worse, different, seeping and thick in his veins, poisoning him from the inside out, and the strange urge to slice his forearm open, to let the teeming darkness in him seep out in spilling, pouring blood, washes over him so roughly his fingers jerk involuntarily.

Space

Now this is one that makes me giggle. It's from a fic I'm writing where I'm not letting myself pore over every word and sentence, because I'm currently in a deep rut in my writing, so this is me trying to loosen up. It's the fic I'm currently working on, and I want to finish it pretty soon too! Featuring an unhinged Bratva friend, a tiger, and a Lada sedan.

It is no human. Whatever is in the house is no human, and the Soldier nearly slumps in relief at the realization, but he doesn’t, keeps himself straight, and lays the fork on the kitchen counters beside Rumlow’s gun. A really large dog, probably. The Soldier steps around the doorframe into the dining room, and every muscle in his body freezes, his heart stopping for one terrifying moment, his tongue heavy in his mouth. A large, Siberian tiger licks its chops, muscles rippling under its fur as it sits down on its haunches with a heavy thud. It blinks lazily at the Soldier and the Soldier refuses to look it in the eyes. He doesn’t know- he doesn’t- he isn’t trained to- oh! Ignoring the panic that rises steadily in the space between his heart and sternum, bubbling over and spilling into his lungs, choking him slightly, the Soldier makes a minute movement backwards, towards the kitchen again. The tiger yawns. The Soldier takes the moment where its eyes are closed as an opportunity and flees. Slamming the kitchen door shut behind him, he locks it too, even though he doubts the tiger is able to open doors, then slides down to the floor, legs up to his chest, rests his forehead against his knees and simply tries to get his breathing back under control. Gasping in small stuttering breaths, the Soldier almost wants to laugh. It feels so- so normal. So regular. So common, to be afraid of a large tiger in his face, and the fact that it has nothing to do with Hydra, nor the past that seems to swirl and spit haze into his face more often than not, helps him calm down considerably quickly. He breathes and breathes, the erratic heaving of his chest steadying out into a smooth, deep rhythm, and he takes a minute to himself before he raises his head and leans it against the door. One last moment, then he stands up on shaky legs and turns to look out the window in the door.

Sharp

From a fic I'm writing dedicated to the wonderful @sootiesweep where the Soldier is on a boat after a mission, and there are cigarettes, talk about patriotism and melancholy...

Baltiysk, Kaliningrad Oblast. There are stars in the heavens tonight, small, sparkling specks of light freckling the skies’ cheeks like a painter had come along to flick white paint all across the darkness, and waves smash blind, salted faces against the hull of a docked military ship, beating themselves into foam and froth. The air is sharp, cold and biting, nipping blood to the surface of cheeks and noses, and the Soldier stands by the bow, draped in shadows, rubbing a gloved hand over the bottom of his face, roughly warming up the cold skin with the friction. Light eyes catch the moonlight, causing them to glow oddly, almost like those of a predator, and dark hair falls over them slightly, the boyish cut framing his sharp-jawed, young face. Somewhere deep in the ship’s bowels laughter erupts. The Soldier pays it no mind, instead glancing down at his long, dark blue sailor’s coat before he slips his hands into his pockets to pull out a pack of cigarettes and a matchbox. Shaking the pack so that he can get at a cigarette, he holds it between his teeth before shoving the pack back into his pocket. Bright orange-yellows light up the dark corner he is huddled in when the Soldier strikes a match against his pants, the wood catching the spark and erupting into flame. The matchbox follows the cigarette pack into his pocket too, and smooth, smoky nicotine hits the back of his throat pleasantly as the Soldier takes a deep drag in, letting his eyes slip shut in enjoyment. The static that had seemed to grow louder in the past few days, rattling in his mind, smooths out.

Sweet

This is from something I wrote when I was like- 18? I think? I can't remember, but it's from this fic idea that has been rolling around in my head in a salad spinner since I was sixteen, where Bucky gets admitted to a psych hospital before the war, where Hydra actually takes an interest in him there first...

Gold drips from the heavens, running lazily down the glass windows of the hospital, pooling in splashes of sunlight on the brick walkway. Bucky blinks slowly, taking in the sight. Something about the building seems ethereal, otherworldly, and he swims through the raining gold, step by step. To both sides of him, two men. Thin, light coats frame their shoulders, barely kissing the tips of their knees. Their hands keep him upright, holding him around his biceps and on his back, pushing, urging, coaxing him forward. Behind him, two more men march, keeping up the flank. He swallows suddenly, a burst of terror surging through his body, quick, lightning sharp. With sudden clarity, he realizes that he does not want to be here, and he stops. Stiffens. Tries to turn. The hands on his body are firm, unyielding, and he lets out a sharp breath through his nose. Static hums around him, and he digs his heels in, turning his face towards one of the men holding him. "I don't want to," he whines, low in his throat, the sound tight with fear. "I know," the man says, and his wide eyes are bright, kind. A sharp contrast to the cold, bored demeanor of the man on the other side of him. "But you have to." "Come now," the other man says, tugging him forward, and he forces his feet to move, to drag, really, though his chest feels oddly heavy. There are lilacs peering shyly at the procession as they near the steps leading up to the building, their sweet smell drifting lazily in the wind, and Bucky has the odd urge to reach out, to stroke them. To see if they felt as unreal as everything else did.

This was THE most fun I've had with these games in a while, and I really enjoyed digging through all my WIPs and getting the urge to actually work a little on them!!!

No pressure tagging @painted-doe @writethewolvesaway @bbyboybucket and @sad-eyed-lady-of-the-paperbacks for the words Light, Slam, Shiver and Pray!! :))

#tag games #vostok insanity

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sunlitsunflowers · 1 year ago

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Lana I'm so sorry my love, I don't know how I haven't reblogged this before but I'm doing it now cause I was rereading it for ugh... reasons🫣

Anyway, I love how you write these two and they are both fucking menaces and I love it!! Amazing as always!!!💛💛💛

𝐖𝐞'𝐫𝐞 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐧', 𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐧' | 𝐒𝐭𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲

Pairing ༄ Firemen!Stucky x F!Reader Word Count ༄ 5.2k Warnings ༄ Swearing, pet names, polyamorous relationship, fluff, smut (oral - f + m receiving, fingering, protected piv, multiple orgasms, denied orgasm, so much dirty talk, dom/sub/switch dynamics, praise kink, voyeurism, exhibitionism, degradation/dumbification, objectification, aftercare) Event ༄ @buckybarnesevents Into an Alternate June-iverse | Ｃ４ - First Responder AU Author's Note ༄ Look at those warnings, huh? Yeah, have fun folks. ✌

Built Differently Masterlist | June-iverse Masterlist

It was only meant to be a visit – to get to know them better, learn of their dynamic and learn just how you would fit in. They, however, had other ideas.

It had been only a few days since that encounter at the station.

Embers had settled like lead weights in your stomach, lighting up your nerves with a mere spark – more often than not it was their text tone, or the sound of their honeyed voices on a call that was the culprit and soul cause, and the bastards knew it, too.

Very little deliberation was needed to come to your decision. An inane part of you, perhaps closer to the surface than you cared to admit, nor acknowledge, wanted this. You wanted to be a part of what they were, you wanted to feel the warmth of the love they could give, and… many other things.

Before that thought could dig its claws too deep, the open roller doors of the station came into view, and you took a deep breath as you walked up the driveway. Steve and Bucky had asked you to pop in for a visit, and they had offered to take you home when their shift ended – naturally, you had been apprehensive about just whose home you’d be returning to.

“There she is!” Steve called, making his way down the driveway with Bucky peeking around the doorway with a bright smile. “Hey there, sweetheart,” Steve said, glancing you up and down – and the action didn’t leave your skin crawling as you had felt all too many times before with other men, rather, you felt shy. “How’re you doing?”

“Good– I’m good, Stevie,” you replied, happily accepting his hug.

“Hey! Nuh-uh,” Bucky rushed, jogging over, a full pout on his lips. “My turn.” Steve laughed and let you go, only for you to be swept into Bucky’s arms and off your feet. “She’s mine now, punk,” Bucky called, carrying you as he stalked into the station, ignorant of your breathless laugh and pleas to be let down. “Shouldn’t have let her go.”

“Let me down, Buck,” you laughed, hitting his shoulder with your hand and holding around the back of his neck for dear life with the other. “Please!”

“Alright, alright,” Bucky soothed, and he set you gently down on your feet. “There you go. Now, we’re cutting our shift short because Nat and Peter were gracious enough to come in an hour early.”

“Bless ‘em,” Steve cut in. “So, we can head home, decompress and relax, y’know.” The not-so-subtle wink and sly smirk gracing Steve’s handsome features only caused the inferno to ignite.

Before you could reply, Bucky shoved him towards the locker room. “Get a move on then.”

Steve left with a salute and that left Bucky and you standing beside a parked fire truck. You went to open your mouth to speak, but a quiet yipping noise stalled the cogs in your mind, and you stared at Bucky with wide eyes. “Was that a dog?”

The sheepish shrug and shy smile that grew on his lips made him look so much younger – a boy caught red handed with his hand in the cookie jar. “Yeah… surprise?”

“You have a dog?”

Bucky went to open his mouth when the door leading to the office opened abruptly, and Peter appeared. “Oh, hey! It’s good to see you- whoa!”

You watched in awe as Peter stumbled, pushed to the side by two fast blurs darting out from behind his feet. They were small, but fast and over excited, the exact embodiment of what a puppy–puppies, would be. “You have puppies!”

“Yeah, yeah- Captain, no! Sit,” Bucky commanded, and you watched as the most excited of the two fell back from scrambling up your knees to his back legs in a perfect, fluid movement. You crouched down to be level with the two black and white – Dalmatian – puppies, cooing at them quietly. The smaller and calmer of the two stared up at you through bright blue eyes curiously, a slight tilt to their head.

“Who are these precious babies?” You asked, offering a hand to them so they could sniff. “They’re adorable.”

Bucky groaned as he kneeled down. “‘M gettin’ too old for this shit,” he joked, and you chuckled.

“You’re ageing like a fine wine, Buck,” you replied before you thought better of it, and your eyes widened. Shit, you silently cursed.

“Why thank you, honey,” Bucky purred. Fuck. “Anyway,” he continued, pointing at the larger of the two puppies. “This is Captain, he’s Stevie’s boy.” You cooed at Captain and he whined quietly, wiggling with excitement. “And this,” Bucky pointed at the smaller puppy, a soft smile on his lips and eyes bright with love, “is Cleo. She’s my little girl.”

“I love them so much,” you gushed, not realising how Bucky’s gaze that held so much adoration and softness for his little Cleo, to you. “How old are they?”

“Old enough to be terrors,” Steve said above you and you jumped. “We goin’ home?”

“Yeah,” Bucky replied, getting to his feet with a huff. “You ready, doll?”

You nodded and scratched behind Captain and Cleo’s ears. “Do they stay here, or-”

“No,” Steve laughed, smiling fondly down at the two puppies. “C’mon guys, home time.” Like a scene from a Disney movie, the two bounding balls of energy ran after Steve as he walked out of the station, presumably towards their car.

The jingling of keys pulled you from the sight of Steve’s broad back and you looked over at Bucky to see him already staring at you, a brow raised and an arrogant smirk plastered on his lips. “Quit ooglin’ my husband, honey,” he said, his voice low. “A fella might get the idea you want him more.”

You had the sense to roll your eyes at his dramatic ways, and he laughed as he slung an arm over your shoulder. His grin was contagious and you couldn’t help but mimic it as he walked you out the door, pointing the set of keys to a huge pick-up truck. “Let’s go home, hey?”

The drive home was sat in comfortable silence, interrupted by bouts of banter and the barking yips of overexcited puppies. Before long, Bucky pulled the truck into the driveway of a modest home reminiscent of a brownstone flat – the yard was small but tidy, and there was a two-car garage attached to the side.

“Alright,” Steve said around a yawn. The puppies in his lap shifted and whined restlessly. “Welcome to our humble abode, sweetheart.”

“It’s gorgeous.”

Bucky made a small noise of contentment and slid out the driver's seat, while you shifted and followed Steve off the bench seat and out the passenger door. The puppies ran onto the yard and jumped over one another, making you giggle at their antics.

You could hear Bucky moving around the front of the truck and you went to look over your shoulder at him, only to jump and gasp in fright as Steve’s hand – callused and warm, grabbed your own and threaded his fingers through yours. “Easy, sweetheart,” Steve cooed, tightening his grip. “C’mon, come inside.”

With little choice, but with no hesitation, you followed Steve as he followed Bucky to the front door of their home. “Captain, Cleo– here,” Bucky called, and the two puppies ran between the gaps and through the doorway. “Bring our girl in, punk,” Bucky goaded, watching Steve as he stood in the doorway, still holding your hand and staring at you with an unreadable expression – Bucky’s voice seemed to wake him from his trance and he pulled you inside.

The fact that Bucky moved to stand right behind you as soon as you walked through the threshold of their home, sent a chill of something up your spine and that pit of embers to become a sparking heap again.

“D’you want something to drink, darlin’?” Steve asked. The endearment made your eyes widen only slightly and you recovered just in time to ask for some water – just.

Captain and Cleo moved to settle on a giant dog bed in the living room beside the open doorway, and Bucky put a hand on your lower back, urging you forward into the cosy room and towards a couch. “Make yourself at home.”

“Okay,” you mumbled, taking a seat between three giant pillows. Opting for comfort in this new environment and in the presence of these two Gods among men, you grabbed one and leant it on your knees, hugging it to your chest.

You watched as Bucky toed off his boots and slipped the suspenders off his shoulders, only he caught you staring and he smirked. “You’re so adorable, honey,” Bucky cooed and you felt hot, the cinders in your stomach igniting into a dull roar. “‘M gonna go get changed, Stevie will be with you in just a second, alright?”

As if Bucky had summoned him, Steve appeared around the corner, wearing sweats and a white tank top with a glass of water in one hand, a mug filled with a steaming liquid in the other. Steve and Bucky smiled at one another, and you watched with your mouth slightly agape as Bucky cupped the back of Steve’s neck roughly and pulled him into a kiss – holy fucking shit, you cursed.

The visual was burnt into your eyelids and you took a deep breath just as they pulled apart, and Bucky departed – though not before he smacked Steve on the ass, the latter only rolling his eyes in response.

“Here you go,” Steve said, offering you the glass of water before falling onto the couch next to you. He groaned loudly and threw his head back over the back of the couch and shuffled his legs so his thighs were spread, and you couldn’t resist the urge to stare at the way his muscles moved and pulled taut to show off that damned jawline. “You stare any longer, sweetheart, and I won’t be able to control myself.”

Dammit, you swore. So much for subtlety.

More to distract yourself, you took a gulp of water and placed the cup down on a coaster on the coffee table. A low huff and whine came from the dog bed next to the couch and you looked over to see Cleo already staring at you sleepily. “Such an adorable baby girl,” you cooed.

“Nope, that’s you, honey,” Bucky said suddenly and you almost squeaked – thankfully you killed the noise in your throat before you could embarrass yourself further. “I know we talk every day at this point,” he continued, flopping down on your other side, and tucking his knee up under his other thigh so he could face you. “But how are you–how have you been feeling?”

It was difficult to discern just what he was asking – was he asking about how you felt about them? About the risque and teasing texts and calls you had more often than not initiated?

“Don’t stress that pretty head of yours, honey, I meant exactly what I asked,” Bucky said quietly, and you felt Steve shift next to you, his interest obviously piqued. “How are you doing? Work, all that shit.”

“Oh,” you breathed, relieved. “I’ve been good, work has been busy–but I’ve been good.”

“We know,” Steve purred, his breath suddenly very hot against your neck. “Because you’re our good girl, aren’t you?”

You blanched. “What the-”

Their laughter broke the tension – deep belly laughs and wide grins, though when you looked at Steve, his grin had something else teasing, wolfish, and you found you liked it.

“I would say I’m sorry,” Steve tried, grinning and flicking his gaze between Bucky and your deer-in-headlights-esque shock. “But I’m really not.”

“You fuckin’ menace, Stevie,” Bucky chuckled. “Leave ‘er alone!”

“What the hell was that?” You demanded, a grin teasing your own lips. In no way were you mad, though you were shocked with the visceral reaction to those simple words had on you – you knew you liked it, but that much?

You were doomed.

“Nothin’, nothin’,” Steve sighed, still grinning, though he eyed you like a wolf who had cornered his prey. The air became thin and you felt Bucky shifting closer – the tension in the room crescendoed and your breath hitched as they fell silent, the heat of their combined gazes almost too much to bear.

“Sweetheart,” Steve started, his voice low, tentative; an unspoken hesitance. “We brought you home to get to know you, and we are going to get to know you, just as you would get to know us, but,” he leant forward and time stopped – Steve was in your space, unyielding and determined to be heard. “Do you want this?”

“This?” You echoed breathlessly, only to end on a gasp when Bucky’s hand moved to your neck – no pressure exerted, no sense of danger, but a promise and an intention that stole your breath completely. You could feel Bucky’s thumb brushing soothingly against the side of your neck, but it only sent your head spinning.

Damn him for listening when you let slip you had enjoyed the thought of his or Steve’s hand around your throat.

“Listen to Stevie, honey,” Bucky said, his tone firm and insistent.

“You call the shots here,” Steve continued, though his gaze flickered from Bucky’s hand to your face. “But, to be honest, I want this–so does Buck, don’t you?”

“More than you can imagine,” Bucky growled. “What d’you say, doll?”

Blood pounded in your ears and you gulped, the movement against his hand made Bucky exhale heavily. “Yeah–Yeah I want this, I want it-”

“You tell us to stop if you need us to,” Steve commanded, watching only you and you met his gaze. “Understood?”

“Understood,” you answered.

The wolves pounced. Bucky tightened his grip on the sides of your neck while his other hand went to your hair, gripping it and pulling gently so your face was tilted up, where Steve claimed your mouth – his kiss was surprisingly soft, gentle from what you had expected.

“Bedroom, now,” Bucky rasped, and Steve pulled back, running his thumb along your bottom lip.

“Fuck,” Steve growled, his voice just as raspy as Bucky’s – like your admission and want for this had turned them feral. They pulled you to your feet and you gasped with the rush. “Jump, darlin’,” Steve demanded, and hazy as you felt, you did as you were told; only for the ground to become suddenly very far away. “Atta girl.”

Steve was carrying you – he was carrying you, and Bucky’s hand was insistently groping at Steve’s ass as he carried you down a hallway. “How are you-”

“Firefighter, honey,” Bucky drawled while he kicked the bedroom door shut with his foot. Steve placed you gently down on the bed and stood up, and when Steve moved to shuck down his sweats, Bucky whined, his hands flying forward and gripping Steve’s shoulders and pulling him into a heated kiss – teeth and tongue clashing like they were going to consume one another.

Bucky pulled back only far enough to pull down Steve’s sweats, boxers included. “Mine, don’t do my job, Stevie- Fuck,” Bucky breathed, rushing to literally tear at Steve’s tank top with ease.

“Oh, fuck,” you moaned, and the two turned their heads to look at you – Steve’s expression heightened with a smug smirk, while Bucky looked at you through hooded eyes and a wolfish grin.

“She’s pretty, ain’t she, Stevie?” Bucky said through his teeth, his gaze flashing dangerously. “I wan’ her.”

“Go to her, baby,” Steve ordered. The tone sent your stomach into a fit and the inferno spread like wildfire through your every last nerve – the intensity sending a rush of vertigo and you found yourself reaching out, desperate to touch. “Go on, you don’t stop until she comes, understood?”

Heaven above, you wondered if you could come alone from those words.

“C’mere,” Bucky said, pulling you to your feet. With just as much ease as he had torn–undressed Steve, Bucky left you standing bare for only a solitary second before he pulled you onto the bed with a low, rumbling growl. The pillows were soft under your head and you sighed happily as Bucky settled his boxer-clad hips between your spread thighs. “You alright, honey?”

“I’m great,” you grinned, and Bucky laughed before he surged forward, marking the column of your throat with expert precision until your eyes fluttered closed. “Bucky, please-”

“Please what, sweetheart?” Steve asked, hovering by the head of the bed before he reached over and fisted Bucky’s hair, pulling back harshly. The moan that left Bucky’s lips made your breath stutter. “What do you want? Tell us.”

Bucky moved and tilted his head down, and whether it was a help or a hindrance, his clothed cock rubbed insistently against your clit and you moaned. “Be a good girl for us, honey,” he whispered, and he dropped to his elbows, caging you against him.

“Please, please, I- I need to-”

“You want to come, is that it, darlin’?” Steve pondered. His gaze suddenly pinned Bucky in place, a realisation behind his flickered aggression. “Buck, baby, you didn’t do as you were told.”

Bucky froze before he lowered his head against your neck, mouthing at it while moving his hips against your heat torturously slow. “‘M gettin’ to it, Stevie,” he replied, his breath hot against your neck and suddenly, he started sucking in earnest – the sharp, intense feeling forcing a choked moan from you.

“Get to it faster, then,” Steve admonished. You could sense the eye roll Bucky hid by the curtain of his hair, but he still moved down your body, mouthing at your skin and leaving a trail of heat that culminated between your hips – unbearably so.

You watched, your breath hitching, while Bucky moved your legs either side of his head so your thighs rested on his broad, muscled, and tattooed shoulders. “Oh, god-” You tried, only for your breath to stutter and falter at the first broad lick of Bucky’s tongue against your clit. “Fuck!”

“Go on, baby,” Steve muttered, watching Bucky as he nestled closer. “Fuck her with your tongue.”

The feeling was indescribable – the pull of Bucky’s mouth and the warmth and pressure of his tongue insistently drawing patterns just as pretty as his tattoos on your clit, only to stop and move his tongue down, paying attention to your weeping cunt. You couldn’t hear his groans and moans over the roaring in your ears, though you were grounded by the soft brush of Steve’s fingers down your neck and over your shoulder.

It was short lived.

As Bucky forced his tongue to do as Steve had ordered, Steve lowered his head to suckle at a breast, his hand coming to cup your other breast and flick the hardened nub until you whimpered.

The bed began to squeak and rock and you lifted your head to see Bucky’s hips thrusting desperately against the edge. “Baby, no, you come when she does,” Steve cut in, his tone snappish and commanding. You could have sworn you felt Bucky’s whine through your entire body with how he had sucked your clit into his mouth.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” Steve purred, turning to look at you. A harsh suck from Bucky forced a hiccuped moan from your lips and you whined, fisting your hands in Bucky’s hair. “He’s makin’ you feel good, huh?”

“Y-Yeah, oh, fuck- Ah!”

“Oh, sweetheart, lookatchu,” Steve continued, ignorant of your heaving breaths and inability to hear nor compute a damn thing except for the fact Bucky was swirling and suckling at your clit like a man starved. “So fuckin’ pretty like this.”

“Bucky! Oh, fuck- Fuck!” You cried, startling at the feeling of Bucky’s fingers burying themselves deep in your cunt. “Please!”

Your pleading only spurred Bucky on, and you watched through blurred vision as Steve grinned wickedly, his gaze focused on Bucky's head shaking side to side. “You’re fuckin’ her real good, baby,” Steve breathed, and his gaze snapped towards your pleading expression. “Oh, you’re close, aren’t you, sweetheart?”

“Yeah!” You cried. “Steve, Steve please-”

“Bucky, baby,” Steve said, still looking at you and you did your best to stare back, to hold his gaze. “Be a good boy for me and make her come, she wants to be your good girl.”

Fire burst through every nerve and your back arched to the ceiling, your mouth opened in a silent scream, and Bucky still did not stop. “That’s it, good girl, there’s a good girl- Fuck,” Steve breathed. Waves and waves of sensations crashed against you, pulling you under, with every brush of Bucky’s fingers and tongue and every suck of his lips. He followed you as you writhed on the bed, drawing out every last second of your climax.

Bucky finally pulled back from between your thighs for breath, his chest heaving while your slick covered his lips and chin. The impish grin that split his face made you twitch and whine breathlessly, though it didn’t deter him from launching up onto the bed to claim your lips in a heated kiss.

“Baby,” Steve rushed, pulling Bucky off you and ignoring his grunt of protest. “Lie back, baby, I want your dick in my mouth.”

The promise made Bucky move almost comically quick and he rested his back against the bed head, thighs spread. “Catch your breath, honey,” Bucky whispered as Steve moved to settle between Bucky’s thighs. “We’re not done with you.”

You watched in daze as Steve pulled Bucky’s boxers down, and you revelled in the groan of pleasure that escaped Bucky as Steve swallowed him to the hilt with no preamble. “Stevie, fuck,” Bucky gasped, fisting Steve’s blond hair and holding him in place. “‘M not gonna last long, baby, fuck.”

A rush of energy pulsed through you and you got to your knees, wobbling only slightly. Bucky watched you through hooded eyes, reaching a hand out and you took it, falling against his side and pulling him into a heated kiss – swallowing his moans and cries. You hissed against his lips as his hand wandered down your back to cup and grope at the globes of your ass – his hands rough but warm.

Bucky’s hips jerked up violently and he cried out, his stomach flexing and you watched in awe as Steve worked faster. “Baby, ‘m gonna come, don’t you dare stop- Fuck!”

“Bucky,” you simpered and his gaze snapped to you – his once bright eyes blackened and eclipsed, so fucking far gone, you mused silently. “Come for me, handsome, c’mon.”

The loud shout that echoed off the walls made you grin dazedly, triumphant at wrecking the man before you like he did you. You watched as Bucky twitched and moaned, writhing weakly against Steve’s incessant sucking, his cheeks still hollowed. “Stevie- please, I can’t,” Bucky gasped, sagging in relief when Steve finally pulled off, grinning that same wicked smile.

That same smile he turned on you. “My turn.”

“Wha-” You tried, though your attempt at being coherent was marred by the fact Bucky had manhandled you into his lap, locking you in place by trapping your arms by your sides and forcing your legs open and keeping them there with his feet. The heat billowing from Bucky burned against your skin, and you wriggled, whining from the feel of his still hard cock resting against your lower back.

“Shh, honey,” Bucky cooed, resting his chin against your shoulder. Despite the rush you found your breathing slowing at his soothing tone. “I’ve gotchu, and Stevie’s gonna fuck you so good you won’t remember your own fuckin’ name, how ‘bout that?”

“Fuck,” you croaked, shivering in his hold. You could feel your cunt clench around nothing and you began to pant, as desperate to get air as you were to finally be filled with Steve’s cock.

“She’s so pretty like this, Buck, fuckin’ hell,” Steve rambled, rooting through a bedside draw before pulling free a foil packet. “Touch her for me.”

“Oh-” You shuddered, your legs jerking against Bucky’s hold as his hand wandered down your stomach.

“Be good for me, honey, my sweet doll, huh?” Bucky breathed and you whimpered. The feel of his fingers trailing so close caused goosebumps to rise in the wake of his fingers, right until they settled between your folds and circled your clit.

“That’s it, baby,” Steve breathed, stopping his rush to just watch. “Speed it up, I think she can come once more– what d’you think, sweetheart?”

“I can’t-”

“You can,” Bucky replied. “Stevie wants to watch you come undone again, and like the good girl you are-” As he spoke, his fingers picked up their speed and you heaved for breath against the onslaught of sensation. “-You’re gonna put on a show for ‘im, aren’t you?”

“Ye-Yeah, ah! I am, I- oh,” you gasped, and with your arms trapped you could only scramble to hold Bucky’s hips, the pillows, the sheets – something, anything to ground yourself.

“Come for me, sweetheart,” Steve called, though he sounded underwater – muffled and so far away. “Let go, let go for us.”

You screamed to the ceiling, shaking violently through your second climax that cleaved you like a whip, and Bucky was the only thing holding you together.

“Fuck, if she looks as pretty as she does without our cocks filling her, Stevie,” Bucky mumbled into your hair, soothing the aftershocks with gentle kisses against your temple. “Imagine how she’d look while you’re gonna fuck her.”

Steve groaned loudly in response. “Move, Buck, I need-”

You whined as Bucky slowly lowered you down his front so your hips were canted forward, and your shoulders rested against his middle, just above his stomach. “There you go, doll, easy,” he soothed, pulling your slumped head back against his chest. “You with us, honey?”

“Yeah,” you said, your voice hoarse, but you grinned dopily up at them. “Don’ stop, more-”

They laughed heartily – the rumbling in Bucky’s chest soothing something deep in your mind. It was hard to form any string of thought, coherent or not.

“You’re just so fuckin’ pretty, sweetheart,” Steve whispered, and you whined, chasing his lips. “No, I wanna watch you.”

If Bucky hadn’t kept hold of you, you could have sworn you had started to ascend – the stretch of Steve’s cock burned, the pain exactly what you had wanted, and you moaned loudly. “That’s it, honey,” Bucky cooed, moving a hand to squeeze your breast. “Takin’ Stevie so well, fuck.”

“Oh, god,” Steve groaned, bottoming out in your cunt and stilling. The small twitches against your walls made you whimper, though you grinned wickedly up at him, watching his bowed head until he met your gaze. “Sweetheart, what are- Shit!”

You chuckled weakly and you felt Bucky move behind you, his lips nipping at the side of your neck. “You tryin’ to make him come, huh, kitten?”

The name pulled a moan from your lips and Steve gasped, your cunt squeezing him like a vice – the once steady rhythm you had pulsing around him thrown out.

“Do that again, Buck,” Steve breathed. “She’s fuckin’ squeezing me.”

“Aw,” Bucky cooed, and you groaned when Steve started to move – far too fucking slowly. “You want Stevie to fuck you senseless? You want Steve to squirm?”

“Uh-huh,” you replied quietly.

“She’s too fucked out to form words, baby,” Bucky said to Steve, his tone biting and just the perfect amount of mockery. “I want you to fuck her– fuck her just how you want, go on.”

“Not funny, Buck,” Steve gritted out before he thrusted hard enough to jolt you up Bucky’s chest. It was like you weren’t there – a toy for them to use to rile one another up, and you fucking loved it.

“Oh, it is,” Bucky continued, shifting slightly so he could attack the other side of your neck. Your whimpers and moans were completely ignored while Steve thrusted shallowly. “You better fuck our girl senseless, baby, or I’ll have to do it myself. You don’t want that do you? You want her pussy all to yourself, you don’t want to share, do you?”

The words were a catalyst to something – the cogs of Steve’s mind finally clicking into place to reveal the wolfish greed he had harboured from the beginning. His thrusts turned brutal and every rock of his hips punched a moan from your lungs, the quickfire and brutality of each thrust driving you up Bucky’s chest.

“Please-” You gasped, scrabbling to grab hold of something and Bucky’s hip was the only thing you could find purchase on. “Please, oh, fucking- Stevie!”

“That’s it, kitten, scream for him,” Bucky purred before grabbing the back of Steve’s neck and pulling him into a bruising kiss, throwing off his rhythm. You whined loudly and Bucky pulled back, chuckling darkly. “Fuck her, Stevie, make her come.”

A low growl shook Steve’s chest, and it rattled your last sense of control. “Fuck, sweetheart,” he rambled, attaching his lips to your neck, the opposite side of where Bucky was marking you with his teeth and tongue. “You feel so fuckin’ good.”

You clamped down tighter on his cock and your moans grew in pitch, but Steve didn’t falter. “She’s close, Stevie, good boy,” Bucky purred. Steve only moaned, shifting his knees so he could fuck you harder. You could feel Bucky’s hand moving down your stomach and a loud static filled your ears. “You wanna come for him, don’t you, kitten? You wanna be a good girl for us?”

Words failed you. Your mouth opened and closed uselessly as you felt Bucky reach your hip, though he didn’t stop. A full body shudder tore through your limbs and you keened, curling inwards as Bucky’s fingers found your much too sensitive clit with his fingers – all through Bucky’s deft touches, Steve didn’t stop his thrusts, if anything, they got harder, faster, as he chased his release.

“Come for us, honey,” Bucky whispered, his breath hot on the shell of your ear. Steve nodded desperately and whined as the start of your climax trapped him, your cunt sucking him in and not allowing him to leave. “Come for us, kitten- Good girl! Oh, lookatchu! Fuck, that’s a girl, good girl-”

You were drowning in pleasure, you couldn’t breathe – couldn’t feel anything but the deadly throes and sensations of Steve’s cock grinding against that spot and the feeling of Bucky’s breath, hot on your neck.

Slowly, you came to laying on your side, pressed between two bodies.

“There she is– hey, sweetheart,” Steve whispered in your ear. Somehow, he was holding you to his chest and Bucky was laying facing you, his eyes opening quickly at Steve’s words.

“Stevie fucked you a bit too good, honey,” Bucky chuckled, cupping your jaw and sidling closer so he could kiss your forehead. “Are you alright?” As he spoke, Steve rubbed one hand up and down your side as you shivered, squeezing you close with the other.

“‘M fine,” you said. “Wha’ happened?”

“You blacked out, doll,” Bucky explained. “It was only for a little while.”

“Awesome,” you whispered, and Steve and Bucky laughed. “Are you guys okay?”

“Fuckin’ fantastic,” Steve said – you could hear the grin in his words, and Bucky nodded, agreeing wholeheartedly. “We can talk serious shit later, alright? We wanna hold you a lil’ longer.”

“I would love that,” you hummed happily and snuggled into Steve’s arms, smiling as Bucky moved even closer.

One thing was for sure, today for sure cemented the fact that you had made the right decision – now all you had to do was buckle in for the ride.

A very special thank you to @sgt-seabass for beta'ing this for me, and to my love, @duckybarnes1917's for your help and encouragement when I pitched this idea to you, additionally, my hype squad - y'all are the best! You guys helped me make this possible, and I hope I did this justice. 💗

↠ 𝐢𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐱 | 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 | 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 | 𝐚𝐨𝟑 ↞

#also dogs I fucking love the dogs #and I love this au so much #I love these two fucking menaces #oh and I also love you as well!!#fireman!steve #fireman!bucky #bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers x reader #stucky x reader #bucky barnes #steve rogers #rookthorne🖤

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kaydens-agere · 7 months ago

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Characters I Headcanon as Age Regressors!

This is a forever ongoing list! It will change depending on the franchises and fandoms I interact with and my opinions on certain characters :)

Keep in mind I haven't interacted with some of these characters/franchises in a while so I can't come up with exact headcanons for some of them, the ones that are underlined have links to their headcanons/moodboards and the emojis next to them are oneshots/drabbles I've done for them ^^ Also if you'd like to request please check my fandom list, thank you!!

Characters are below the cut!!

Lab Rats Chase Davenport -🧪- Marcus Davenport

Mighty Med Oliver Horace Diaz

Henry Danger Henry Hart/Kid Danger Ray Manchester/Captain Man

Spider-Man Peter Parker/Spider-Man -🕷️- Miles Morales/Spider-Man Gwen Stacy/Spider-Woman Pavitr Prabhakar/Spider-Man Hobie Brown/Spider-Man

Marvel Wade Wilson/Deadpool Logan Howlett/Wolverine Matt Murdock/Daredevil Charles Xavier/Professor X Erik Lehnsherr/Magneto Jean Grey/The Dark Phoenix James "Bucky" Barnes/The Winter Soldier Steve Rogers/Captain America

The Outsiders Ponyboy Curtis Sodapop Curtis Darrell "Darry" Curtis Johnny Cade Dallas "Dally" Winston Keith "Two-Bit" Matthews Steve Randle (yeah basically all the gang leave me alone </3)

Detroit: Become Human/Evolution/Reawakening Connor/RK800 Nines/RK900

Life Is Strange Chloe Price Rachel Amber

Fireman Sam (1987) Sam Peyton Jones Elvis Cridlington

Random One-Off characters Truman Burbank (The Truman Show) Leon Kennedy (Resident Evil) Mike Schmidt (Five Nights At Freddy's) Rusty-James (RumbleFish) Simon (Dinner In America) Ellie Williams (The Last Of Us)

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dearstvckyx · 5 months ago

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Flufftober | 10.31 |

Halloween - Crossover

What Your Couple Costume Is

Bucky Barnes (Sandy & Danny)

Logan Howlett (Ghostface & Victim)

Cole Caufield (Maverick & Charlie)

Jack Hughes (Mario & Princess Peach)

Jamie Drysdale (Fireman & Dalmatian)

Luke Hughes (Luigi & Princess Daisy)

Matt Rempe (Peter Pan & Tinkerbell)

Nico Hischier (Linguini & Remy)

Quinn Hughes (Rapunzel & Flynn)

Trevor Zegras (Han & Leia)

Charles Leclerc (Toothless & ?)

George Russell (Harry Potter Students)

Lando Norris (Playboy Bunny & Hugh Hefner)

Max Verstappen (Jack & Rose)

Oscar Piastri (Alice & Mad Hatter)

Christian Pulisic (Woody & Bo Peep)

Gavi (Gnomeo & Juliet)

Pezzy (Other Mother & Other Father)

Smii7y (Ghost & Fem Ghost)

// I’m so sorry this got out late, I was trying to get it posted on 11/01 but I was working

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vesearlee · 5 months ago

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the collective works with the main pairing of Stucky will be in this masterlist.

⠂⠄⠄ 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐘 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ 𝑴𝑼𝑳𝑻𝑰𝑷𝑳𝑬

➺ 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐆𝐢𝐟𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐊𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐆𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 ⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ Multiple Pairings — 𝐅 + 𝐒 Today was the day — your birthday, but how would the many Bucky’s treat you? With a lil’ bit of nice? Or a lil’ bit of spice?

──── 𝑭 𝑻𝑶 𝑱

⠈⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠂ 𝑭𝑰𝑹𝑬𝑭𝑰𝑮𝑯𝑻𝑬𝑹

𝐁𝐮𝐢𝐥𝐭 𝐃𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲

⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ Fireman!Husband!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader x Fireman!Husband!Steve Rogers — 𝐏 + 𝐅 + 𝐒

Like a moth to a flame, you were drawn to them and their irresistible charm — their job, as firemen, was to put out fires and infernos, and you could only hope they’d let the fire they started in the depth of your soul consume you whole.

⠈⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠂ 𝑭𝑳𝑶𝑹𝑰𝑺𝑻 𝑨𝑵𝑫 𝑻𝑨𝑻𝑻𝑶𝑶 𝑨𝑹𝑻𝑰𝑺𝑻

𝐆𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐈𝐧𝐤

⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ Tattoo Artist!CW!Husband!Bucky Barnes x Florist!F!Reader x Tattoo Artist!Nomad!Husband!Steve Rogers — 𝐏 + 𝐅

The world of body art and botany was always beautiful to you; each pencil stroke and each flower petal amounted to a masterpiece of creation. It wasn't until the day that a chance meeting left you reeling amongst the artful blooms of your store, you wondered if the brush of petals and ink could amount to what heaven truly felt like.

➺ 𝐀𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐥𝐚 ⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ Post!CW — 𝐀 + 𝐅 Bucky wasn’t acting himself, but Steve had the determination and strength to bring him back where he belonged — home.

➺ 𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐋𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐄𝐦𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐞 — 𝐀 + 𝐖 The colours of fire that scorched through Bucky’s veins did nothing to burn away the image of home — where he so desperately wanted to be. Steve was calling to him, and he’d be damned if he kept him waiting.

➺ 𝐁𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐧 — 𝐀 + 𝐖 + 𝐅 Sometimes battles should not be fought alone. A Sergeant needed his Captain, after all.

➺ 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐭𝐡 — 𝐀 + 𝐅 Modern day Brooklyn was so new to Bucky, the sights and the smells. But the cold — the cold wasn’t new and he was desperate for warmth and safety against the raging storm of his memories.

➺ 𝐈'𝐯𝐞 𝐆𝐨𝐭 𝐘𝐨𝐮 ⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ Pre-war!Bucky Barnes x Pre-war!Steve Rogers — 𝐀 + 𝐖 + 𝐈 + 𝐅 A gentle hand was all that was ever needed to guide Steve back to where it was safe.

➺ 𝐍𝐨 𝐌𝐚𝐧'𝐬 𝐋𝐚𝐧𝐝 ⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ Post Serum!Bucky Barnes x Pre-serum!Steve Rogers (Shrinkyclinks) — 𝐀 + 𝐖 + 𝐈 + 𝐅 War and battle were a commonplace thing in the day to day for Bucky, but a new one was waging and there was nothing he could do but watch. It wasn’t his to fight — that didn’t mean he’d leave his best man on his own.

➺ 𝐁𝐢𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞 ⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ Winter Soldier!Bucky Barnes x Pre-serum!Steve Rogers (Shrinkyclinks) — 𝐀 + 𝐖 + 𝐅 Every man had a weakness. They found and exploited his, and they would sorely regret it.

➺ 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬, 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬 ⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ 40s!AU — 𝐀 + 𝐖 + 𝐅 Ever virtuous and foolishly brave, Steve was. But Bucky would always be there in the endlike he promised; till the end of the line.

➺ 𝐕𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 — 𝐀 + 𝐖 + 𝐅 Medals were awarded to Soldiers that went above and beyond the call of duty, that pushed beyond what could be the limits of human endurance to get the job done and save lives. But Steve? Steve only needed to see Bucky one last time before he disappeared into the fray and emerged victorious.

➺ ‘𝐓𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐮𝐧 𝐑𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐬 ⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ Post Serum!Bucky Barnes x Pre-serum!Steve Rogers (Shrinkyclinks) — 𝐀 + 𝐅 Heaven above, Steve would move mountains for what Bucky asked of him, even if it meant staying up ‘till the sun rises.

➺ 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐚 𝐒𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐫’𝐬 𝐄𝐲𝐞𝐬 — 𝐀 + 𝐖 + 𝐅 The wicked and blackened hand of cruel delusions wound its way through his dreams like it was on a mission — to pull him under, and drown him. But a Soldier did not go down without a fight.

➺ 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐚𝐲 𝐇𝐨𝐦𝐞 — 𝐀 + 𝐖 + 𝐈 + 𝐅 Wishes were more often than not granted in ways one would not expect, but that didn’t mean seeing a 6 foot tall Super Soldier going through withdrawal in Steve’s apartment was an unwelcome surprise.

➺ 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐄𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐲 ⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ Post Serum!Bucky Barnes x Pre-serum!Steve Rogers (Shrinkyclinks) — 𝐀 + 𝐅 Love has many languages, even for those that don’t speak.

➺ 𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐘𝐨𝐮 ⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ Pre-serum!Bucky Barnes x Post Serum!Steve Rogers / Canon Divergent — 𝐀 + 𝐖 + 𝐈 + 𝐅 In a cruel twist of fate, Bucky is forced to relive a nightmare while awake and alone — until Steve appears.

➺ 𝐌𝐚𝐲 𝐆𝐨𝐝 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐌𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐲 𝐨𝐧 𝐘𝐨𝐮, 𝐁𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐈 𝐖𝐨𝐧’𝐭 ⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ Pre-serum!Bucky Barnes x Post Serum!Nomad!Steve Rogers (Shrunkyclunks) — 𝐀 + 𝐖 + 𝐅 There was no greater danger than provoking a man by taking what was his, and flaunting it like a trophy. Devils had to have their fun, too.

➺ 𝐇𝐨𝐦𝐞 ⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ Canon Divergent — 𝐀 + 𝐏 + 𝐅 They had prepared you for long missions and what would come with them — it was why they found Alpine for you, a little bit of comfort for a time that would inevitably happen. But what they had not prepared you for was the shock of an unexpected, but much desired, arrival back home.

➺ 𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐛𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐄𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 ⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ Stableboys!Stucky x Princess!F!Reader — 𝐏 + 𝐅 The relationship was forbidden, you knew the risks and you knew what the punishment would be if you were found out — oh, the court scandal it would cause. It didn’t deter the need to see them, though, nor the bout of friendly competition you craved.

➺ 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐄𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐧 𝐇𝐢𝐦, 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐄𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 ⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ Circus Performer!Bucky Barnes x Trapeze Artist!Steve Rogers — 𝐒 They were a secret, hidden down alleys, amongst flaps of tents and silk ropes, ensnaring them both and binding them tighter and tighter — it was dangerous, it was trouble, but above all else, it was intoxicating.

➺ 𝐒𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭 𝐒𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐬 ⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ Closeted!Bodyguard!Stucky x Mafia Boss!F!Reader — 𝐏 + 𝐅 Suspicion and lies often led to the brash decisions that ended empires, whether they were justified or proven false, it didn’t matter — what was said and done could never be taken back. It was how you developed such a keen sense for divulging the truth, and what else could you have done with such temptation being placed on a silver platter in front of you?

➺ 𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐆𝐢𝐫𝐥 — 𝐅 Birthdays were a very special occasion in their household, especially when it was Her Highness’ big day.

#main masterlist #stucky

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shamrockqueen · 2 years ago

Text

Inferno

Pairing : Firefighter Bucky x Reader

Warnings : Major accident, fire, mild smut, major loss, references to death, manipulation

Word count : 6195

AO3 Link

You always had so much fun at the fireman's festival each year. Even as you get older, it’s nice to see the kids running around and having fun like you once did. Nowadays, you sit and chat with the firemen's wives and older kids as you all eat together.

Your dad had been the fire chief for the last 5 years after serving the community for at least 15. He was a good, honest, and hardworking man, and to him and your two brothers he was your hero. All of the men and women he’s worked alongside have been family to both him and all of you.

You had been laughing at something with your mom when you decided to get up for more barbecue. The ribs were amazing every year, and you weren't gonna miss an opportunity to have seconds while the line was short. You stood behind about five people and waited for your turn when you felt a tap at your shoulder.

"Hey." His smile was bright and oh so inviting. His eyes were a cheerful blue, and his hair was a dark brunette that was combed up and nearly fluffy. He was handsome, but you had no idea who he was. Yet, you didn’t want to be impolite, so with your same sweet demeanor, you greeted him back with "Oh, hello."

"You’re Chuck’s daughter, right?"

"Uh, yeah. Do you know him?"

"Damn well should; he’s my boss now." He chuckled as the line moved up.

"Oh, are you a new recruit?" You asked as you stepped forward, and he followed a little too closely, yet his new proximity wasn’t uncomfortable. In fact, as his shoulder brushed yours and he flashed that bright smile down at you, your heart started to beat a little faster.

"Graduated from the academy a couple weeks ago. I’m one of a couple new guys."

"Oh right, it’s nice to meet you...uh"

"James" he said as he extended his hand to yours, and you let him pull your little fingers into a firm shake before he continued with, "But you can call me Bucky."

His hands were strong and warm to the touch, making the heat from his fingers spread around your arm and up your neck.

"Will I be seeing you often enough to do that?"

You must have been blushing as you noticed his smile curling further up with satisfaction before he let your hand go and answered, "I hope so."

The line moved up again, and without fail, he inched closer until your back was almost touching his chest after you’d turned towards the line. When you looked back at him, his smile had started to fade as he looked out at the crowd. You matched his line of sight to see the gleaming bald head of your father breaking through the small sea of people. He seemed to be glaring between the two of you as he quickened his pace towards the line.

His goofy gray mustache was tilted in an unsavory direction as he came up to you and spoke with an odd sense of urgency. "Your mom needs you over by the picnic tables, sweetheart."

"Oh? But I was just there; I was gonna get.."

"I’ll get ya another plate; just go back to your mom, ok?"

"Uh, ok." You turned back to Bucky and bid him a goodbye before leaving the line to let your dad take your place.

When you make it back to the picnic tables and your mom says, "Hey sweetie, weren’t you getting something to eat?"

"Dad is grabbing me a plate; he said you needed me."

"I didn’t tell him I needed you."

"But he said..."

Your father walks past you before turning and handing you a plate full of saucy ribs, and you give him a brief "uh, thank you."

Your mother questioned him immediately upon his return.

"Chuck, what did you tell her?"

"Nothing..it’s just.." he turns towards you this time, "you don’t need to be around that young man."

"What?" You asked as your face scrunched with visible confusion.

"Charles!"

"Now, I mean it. There’s somethin not right about him." Your father said this as he sat down next to your mother.

"He’s like new; you'd barely know him." Your dad’s overly protective behavior was often exasperating, and you weren’t afraid to voice as much.

"My gut tells me there’s something off."

"Are you sure it wasn’t that second helping of potato salad?" Your mother said as she side-eyed your father.

"Don’t joke like that." He spoke back to her.

"I wasn’t entirely joking, George. You sound a little ridiculous." She said

"He sounds overly protective." You piped up before scooping up a bite of food.

He gives you both a glare. "I’m just doing what a dad needs to do."

You’ll only ever meet Bucky a handful of times after the fireman’s festival. He was always sweet, yet every time he had a chance to talk to you, your dad would often intervene and direct you in a different direction. If you took a second to look back at the other man, you’d see his smile would be gone and his jaw slightly clenched.

The two of you would become better acquainted after one fateful night. You would be awoken by the insistent beeping of a single smoke detector in the hall by your bedroom. In a matter of seconds, the entire space had been filled with smoke, and you were left on your bed struggling to breathe. You couldn't see any more than a few inches in front of you, and it was a miracle you hadn’t suffocated in your sleep.

A thick gloved hand broke through the black clouds and reached towards you, slipping under your shoulders as another slid under your knees. The gleam of the glass protector that covered your Savior's face was all you saw as you were carried out of the blazing building.

The fresh air hit unerringly hard as you were rushed out your front door directly towards the flashing lights of an ambulance. Your body was rocking in time with your Savior’s steps as they deposited you onto a gurney.

Their mask, once clear, was blackened over by ash after they had to burst out of the flames that ate away your home. Yet, even through the soot, a pair of piercing blue eyes could still be seen. The paramedics crowded around as the tether between you disappeared among the sea of uniformed people.

Your own eyes rolled away as the ambulance blurred into a mix of black sky and sterile metal walls. You wouldn’t open them again until you reached the hospital, where they’d treat your burns and later put you under observation. The few you had were small and would leave only mild scars behind, and at the very least you were thankful to be alive.

Waking up on your second day in the hospital, you didn’t say or see much, only watching the hospital staff as they periodically checked your status. You’d hoped to see your family, but there hadn’t been any sign of them.

It was a pleasant surprise when a nurse arrived to tell you that you had a visitor. The image of your parents popped into your head, only to vanish as your guest walked in.

"Bucky?"

You would have never expected to see him, especially since you’d only managed to speak to him a few times thus far.

"Hi doll. How are you feeling?" He asked with a bright and inviting smile. He had a bouquet of fresh yellow and white flowers with a pink bow twisted around a ‘get well soon’ tag.

"I'm alright. What brings you here? I haven’t seen you since…" Your memory was so fuzzy from all that had happened, but you didn’t need to finish your sentence as Bucky cleared his throat and continued it for you.

"Since the fire, we were all so thankful that I was lucky enough to pull you out on time."

He set the flower on the table beside you as he took a seat by the bed. Just as your shocked and painful face twisted when the tears pushed their way out into the company of this stranger before you could catch them, "I-I can’t thank you all enough that I’m even here right now."

"Hey.." He snatched a tissue from one of the counters out of your reach to dab at your wet cheeks. "It’s all a part of the job."

You nod, trying to shake the pain that started to knot inside your belly from finally taking in the reality of what happened. "Thank you, Bucky."

Another smile pulled back over his previously grim expression, but this one was much sadder than the first. "I came by to make sure you were doing better."

"I am doing a little better. They said the burns were minor and that they might let me out in a day or two. It’s nice that the boys at the station care so much." You can feel the tears dribble out again, but you don’t want to cry right now, so you try to force them back in.

"I’m sure my dad is beside himself."

He let out a short cough before addressing the new issue: "Actually, he..he went in to save you too, and he didn’t make it out. I’m sorry, but..here" He pulls his phone from his pocket and searches up the article that had already graced the local news.

The first image you see is a picture of your burning home, the next is a smiling snapshot of your dad, who had been pronounced dead not long after the incident, per the article.

This was the absolute worst way to find out that your dad had perished in that fire, while trying to save you no less. It’s a solid cinder block to the chest, and you can feel it sucking every ounce of oxygen out of the room.

Bucky is there beside you, arms wrapping around you as you gasp and sputter into his shoulder.

He was the only thing you could burrow into at this moment, until the thought of your mother crossed through the cloud of grief.

"Oh my god, my mom. Can I use your phone to call her, please?" Your nails dug into his shirt as you begged.

He picked up his phone from your lap, only to put it back in his back pocket.

"No, please." You pleaded as you grabbed his sleeve to keep him from taking it.

"It’s going to be alright; we were able to recover this." He reaches into his coat this time and hands you a plain black phone. Once you tilt it up, a familiar flowery background flashes over the screen.

It was a sight for the sorest of eyes to see your cell phone, and it’s even pristine so you could use it right away. You thank him over and over for saving you a new life line since you hadn’t spoken to your family since before the incident.

You tap in your code and find your mother's contact immediately before addressing your only visitor.

"I’m sorry, I just..I need to call her. Can you give me a minute, Bucky?"

"Of course." He said as he pushed up from his chair before leaving the room to let you use the phone. You clicked the green call button as soon as he left, listening with a heavy heart only to have it drop into your stomach when the call rang out into a ‘beep, beep, beep’.

You hung up and tried again, only to get the same busy tone. You tried again and again, until you couldn’t bring yourself to click the call button another time.

The room felt disgustingly silent as you squeezed the phone in your hand and choked out some fresh tears. When Bucky knocked at the door to check on you again, you just let him come back in.

"Any luck?" He asked as he sat back down beside you.

You could only shake your head before letting it fall back onto his shoulder again. He was right by your side, ready to hold you.

"It rang busy." You mumbled into his shirt.

"I’m sure she just has a lot on her plate with all that’s happened. The next time she’ll pick up, ok?" He grabs you some more tissues to help dry your tears as you nod and try to give him a reassuring smile to show that it will be better.

He stayed and chatted with you until visitation time was over. He leaned in and kissed the side of your head on the way out, saying, "I’ll be back tomorrow; hopefully you can get ahold of your family."

"Thank you, Bucky."

"It’s no problem, Doll." And with that, he left again to see to his own life, making the room depressingly quiet.

You tried to dial up your mom again, as well as a few other people, only to get similar results. There was either a busy signal or a disconnected number, and each failure to connect with someone left you more and more disheartened.

There was only one number you were able to get a hold of, and it was just the insurance company regarding your house, or at least what’s left of it. You had good insurance, and they assured you that damages would be covered in full, but with the cycle of bureaucracy, you wouldn’t see that check for a while.

Bucky came back the next day with a takeaway lunch for the both of you. Anything was better than the hospital food, and it was nice to have his company as you tried to figure things out.

Even though the damage to your body was minimal, your house was beyond repair. You didn’t have very many resources and hadn’t been able to get in touch with family, so you weren’t sure where you would be staying upon being discharged.

Upon hearing about your plight, Bucky leapt at the opportunity. "You can stay with me, just until you get this all figured out."

"I can’t do that to you; you barely know me." He was still a stranger, and you couldn’t bring yourself to burden him like this.

"Everyone at the station knows YOU, and so many of us care a great deal about you," he says, taking your shaking hand in his and pressing warmth into your skin as fresh tears rolled down your cheeks.

"Your dad was a good man, and I’m not about to let his daughter end up on the streets after something like this."

You stared up into those soothing blue eyes, like a calming lagoon, as they pulled you into a comfortable place.

"I can’t thank you enough, Bucky." You push forward on the bed and pull him into a tight hug. He embraces you back, pressing his palm to the small of your back as he buries his nose into the side of your hair.

There wouldn’t be anything to grab from the house; there was no house anymore. No clothes, no important documents—all of it was gone, and you’d have to rebuild from almost nothing. Thankfully, Bucky wouldn’t be far away to help you stand strong through the whole ordeal. He’s the only one who had visited you in the hospital over the past few days.

You’d often remember that whenever you thought to dial up your mother's number again. You didn’t bother pressing that little green call button anymore, not wanting to relive the disappointment of the call ringing busy again.

Bucky came back the next morning with a change of clothes, so you didn’t have to leave in a hospital gown. The underwear were granny panties at best, and it was accompanied by a plain sports bra. He would have had to guess your size, but everything seemed to fit alright.

The t-shirt was a v-neck in pink, paired with black workout pants, white socks, and a pair of sneakers. It was jarring that you truly had to start over so far behind that a man you barely knew had to buy you clothes just so you could leave a hospital.

This man had to be a saint for going this far out of his way for you.

By the time you were ushered into his car, you were thankful for the radio as it kept the creeping silence at bay as he drove you away. You’d been through a lot, and a little bit of music went a long way as he took you through unfamiliar neighborhoods to his home.

When he pulled into his driveway, he turned towards your somber presence. "Are you alright? I know a lot has happened.."

You shake your head and mumble, "No, I don’t think I’ll be alright for a while, but I’m so thankful for your help. I really am."

"It’s fine, really. I just want you to be safe." He gave you a sad smile before he clicked the door open and rounded the car to let you out.

His home was nice, painted a warm beige on the outside and decorated with white, navy, and black on the inside. He walked ahead of you with a plastic grocery bag of new clothes to last you a few days. You shut the door behind you and followed him to his guest room, where you'd be staying. It was another beautiful white and navy layout, with a bit of gray thrown in.

"This is it. Please, if you need anything, let me know." His voice was sincere, but his eyes seemed sad as he spoke.

"This is more than I could have asked for, Bucky. Thank you." You wanted to crawl into those navy sheets and never come out, yet a part of you longed to curl into his warm and inviting arms just as you did when he came to visit you in the hospital.

He seemed to read it on your face as his next move was to pull you into a hug from your side, and you felt some of the tension in your shoulders collapse.

When his arms loosened, he told you he wanted to let you get some sleep, and he left you to settle into the room. You sat at the foot of the bed and just took in your new surroundings. Beside you was the bag of clothes and amenities Bucky had left you. There was some soap, similar plain clothes, and even some tampons. Of the few practical things, there was a plain black dress, black dress shoes, and some black stockings.

He’d bought you clothes fit for a funeral, and indeed, those were their intended purposes. Your heart started to sink all over again as you stared into the bag.

In a way, it was a small overstep, but it was incredibly helpful. There was no way you had enough strength to buy a dress for a funeral you didn’t even know was already planned, so you were thankful that it was taken care of. Right now, you only wanted to sleep, as Bucky had suggested. So, you undid the bedding, crawled into the comfort of the guest bed, and waited for a sad slumber to take you.

Your nap continued on into the night and became restless sleep. The black void was deep and heavily fogged by smoke and ash. You waved through it as a faint pair of blue lights seemed to lead you down an endless path.

The lights would often blink on and off as they disappeared further and further ahead of you, leaving you to choke on the clouds of smoke. There was no more air left to breathe, and your vision blurred as ash surrounded you.

You awoke, coughing and sputtering as the dark room came into view. The thumping of footsteps could be heard down the hall as they drew closer to your room until their source ran into your doorway. Bucky flicked the bedside lamp on before pulling you into his arms, petting your hair, and shushing away all the bad memories.

His embrace was warm and safe. It’s the only place to welcome you, and you don’t want it to leave you. So, he stayed beside you until you fell asleep again and didn’t leave until the morning came. He found you still sleeping on his arm, and he almost couldn’t let you go.

He knew you needed him now, and that's exactly how he wanted it to be. To be there, sleeping beside you and making the bad dreams go away, was more than he could have asked for. It was all going according to plan.

He made sure to take good care of you throughout the next day since you had been in the hospital. The news about your father’s upcoming funeral was difficult to hear from someone you still barely knew, but after finding the mourning clothes among your new and only possessions, it wasn’t a total shock. It would be in the next 5 days, and 5 days too soon, but Bucky was still there for you.

Your family hasn’t spoken to you since the accident, and each day that ticked by without any word from neither your family nor your friends made your heart sink lower and lower.

The day of the funeral finally came, and the only reason you were able to show up was due to Bucky’s invitation. You weren’t even invited to your own father's funeral, a stab that cut deeper and deeper each day as it drew closer.

You barely remember the drive there, too far into the pit of your own thoughts as the trees in the windows flew by. Yet Bucky was still there for you, one hand on the wheel and the other tightly wrapped around yours.

The event was somber and gut-wrenching as multiple people suddenly started to fawn over you after well over a week of no contact. Bucky helped fend many of them off and wave away their prying questions. If they wanted to know if you were okay, they could’ve visited you in the hospital.

Your mother didn’t even look at you during the entire service, keeping silent with an air of resentment.

You never wanted any of this to happen, and you certainly wouldn’t have ever wanted to lose your father in exchange for your own life. To know that your mother stood across the room at his funeral, blaming you for his death, was heartbreaking. You didn’t know how much you could take by the time it was your turn to view his casket.

Bucky was right by your side during the whole service, not giving a single person a chance to speak to you for anything more than a few pleasantries. That was until you left him to say a final goodbye to your father's casket by yourself. This gave an old family friend an opportunity to talk to you.

"Hey." An older man called your name and prompted you to turn towards him in the line. Dave was an old friend of your father's, and you and his daughters were practically raised together.

"How is everything?" He asked. It was weird seeing him in such a somber light. "Everything is being taken care of."

You simply nod, giving a weak “yes.”

"Getting back on your feet well enough, cause you know if you ever need anything, me and the missus wanna be there for ya."

"Thank you, but Bucky has been a big help since I left the hospital." You nodded in the younger man's direction as you spoke to Dave. He turned to see Bucky staring at the both of you with sharp eyes before clearing his throat and speaking again.

"I see. You know your mom has been worried sick; she’s been wondering why you haven’t called her."

The second he said that, your blood started to boil. The amount of heartache that woman gave you after dodging your calls made you sick to your stomach.

"Call her? I’ve been trying to call her since I was in the hospital. She hasn’t picked up the phone." You started to raise your voice a little, drawing unwanted attention to yourself. Just as you try to take a deep breath to calm down, Bucky crosses the room to place his warm hand on the small of your back and steady you.

"It’s gonna to be alright, doll." He turns and addresses the older man with, "Can you not hound her right now? She just lost her father."

Bucky was given a sour and untrusting look from the older man before he walked away. Bucky instead stayed by your side in the line, massaging circles into your shoulder with his thumb as he turned you back towards the casket so you could pay your final respects.

Service ended shortly after, and Bucky quickly corralled you towards the car and took you home after helping you into the vehicle.

You’d held your tears in as best as you could today, not wanting to give any of them the satisfaction of seeing you cry after they’d all abandoned you, but when the car pulled away and it was only Bucky and yourself, they started to spill out over your cheeks.

You never in your life thought your mother would treat you like this, and it made your stomach twist with growing guilt.

"Maybe it is my fault..that he’s gone."

Bucky was quick to stop you, wiping a tear from your cheek and giving you reassurance. "Don’t say that. None of this is your fault."

The car pulled to a stop at the shoulder of the road so he could better address your downward spiral.

"Never blame yourself for this! Everyone just needs time to cope, but none of us would have wanted you to die in that fire. Especially not your dad."

You felt as if you could throw yourself over the center console to bury your face in his chest like you had for the past week. He provided a dark and safe place, holding you tightly together when you started to break. But, your tears were soon halted by the abrupt feeling of his hand pressing against the top of your thigh.

It didn’t feel inappropriate at the time; it was only a little shocking and slightly heartwarming. In the moment, it felt as if he was anchoring you, yet you still held your breath as you felt his warm palm through the fabric of your stocking.

You wait a second or two before you place your hand over top of his whispering a sad "Thank you, Bucky."

He leans in to wipe a tear from your cheek with his thumb as he whispers back, "It's the least I could do. I want to be there for you, doll."

He leaned in so that his face was in line with yours, and he matched your gaze, pouring his blue eyes into you. You didn’t register the space between the two of you closing until the shock of lips pressing against yours shook you from your fear and pain. Your eyelids only dipped instead of closing all the way as he stole the air from your very lungs.

You’re somewhat startled and a little shaken, but after he pulled away with the sound of your lips slowly breaking apart, you didn’t stop him from stealing another and then another until you were lightheaded in his hands.

When he pulls away from you, your head is left to sway as you slump back into his seat. Another small tear pricks at the corner of your eye as you take in a sharp breath. The longer the ride, the more suffocating the car became, and oddly, the only tether you had that kept you from slipping into the flood of emotions was his hand still pressed to your thigh.

You had been vulnerable, and he took advantage of that, but at the time you found him too comforting to push his advances away.

The rest of the ride was quiet, and upon your return to his house, he let you scurry back to the guest room to bury yourself in the bed for a night of restless sleep. Smoke and fire plagued your dreams again that night. Bodiless hands reach towards you in the flames. Yet, they don’t save you; instead, they hold you down until the fire eats you.

You wake, screaming out into the dark room, to find actual hands trying to steady you in the bed. Bucky was there, trying to help wake you from your restless sleep.

"It’s ok! It’s ok. You're safe here." He started to carefully rock you back and forth once you stopped flailing your body. You curled into his hold, digging your nails into his soft T-shirt as you shakingly cried into his shoulder.

He laid you back into the bed, repeating the words "you’re safe here" as he pressed his lips to your damp forehead and weaved his fingers into your hair.

You nuzzled into his chest as you tried to catch your breath, and you could feel his arms tightening around your body.

He left a few lingering pecks from your hair to the top of your forehead, whispering, "I’ve got you, doll, just let me take care of you" as they migrated to your cheek. And it worked; it melted the tension in your body. That is, until his lips steal over to yours to lock them in another kiss. This time it was more of a shock than when it had happened in the car, and your eyes flew open as he weakly tried to push him off of you.

You had no strength left, both physically and emotionally. You end up letting him take advantage of you, making love to you in the night. His hands were the first to wander through your body, desperate for you to accept them.

His fingers pressed into the T-shirt you'd worn to bed in the absence of pajamas, pulling it upward to expose your silly skin to his hungry eyes and wanted hands.

Those same hands feel as if they are all over your body as that same reassuring voice grounds you.

"This is what you needed, doll." Let me help you. Let me put you back together." His sweet tone becomes low and rough as his teeth start to dig into your skin as he nips at your neck.

His fingers hooked onto the end of those plain cotton panties he’d bought you before dragging them over the side of your hip. You stop fighting, wanting instead to find that comforting part of him. So, as the uncomfortable cotton fabric is pulled from your hips, you lift them so he can easily drag them down your legs.

Soon all that covered you from him was pulled away, and he quickly followed suit before letting his fingers slip over your stomach and towards your pink folds to delve into your sensitive core.

He’s hard and hot as he presses his member to your thigh, guiding himself into your tight channel with a heavy, satisfied sigh. He’s gentle at first, caressing and softly kissing your skin as he drags his cock along your inner walls. But, soon his touch is heavier, digging into the soft fat of your thighs and grazing his teeth along your neck as he gradually pumped himself in and out of your open flower.

It’s enough to make your head ache and your vision fuzzy as he pulls you apart with his bare hands. His body had engulfed you, becoming the only thing you could breathe in for fear of suffocating without him.

You let yourself be engulfed by him, lulled by the deep blue of his eyes as you ran your fingers through his dark hair. You wanted the distraction; you wanted his warmth, but you didn’t know if you wanted this, and yet you couldn’t bring yourself to stop him from pulling the pleasure from your body.

You turned your head to bury it in his bare shoulder as cock stirred your core into an unanticipated frenzy, pushing a wail from your chest that came out muffled against his skin. He wasn’t nearly done yet, and it seemed to go on for the rest of the night as he twisted and snapped a tightened spring within your belly until he spilled into you with a heavy sigh he breathed through tightly closed teeth.

You slept better that night than you had any other, and it would go on to become a nightly ritual for the remainder of your time spent at his home. Your waking days felt haunted, but you feared that without his presence, you’d wilt beneath the weight life had left on your shoulders.

Everything seemed to fade away in the wake of Bucky’s increasingly large presence in your life.

Your family was the first to go, as all contact between you had been severed by an unseen hand. The second would be your job, as after many days away and being unable to reach you, they were forced to let you go.

At some point, Bucky decided that a move for the both of you was what was best. You don’t recall exactly when your lives became so entangled, but you didn’t fight the change, as it felt right to start over with someone that you felt cared for you.

You have such little pushback against all of this. The brief stay at his home, once meant to help you get back on your feet, turned into a permanent residence in his bedroom. It was bizarre to have so slowly and yet so abruptly turned into someone's domestic partner, as if that would be your new identity.

This facade would eventually fall when you helped unpack after a lengthy drive all the way to New York, where Bucky had gotten his new job. You found a small box tucked away with his clothes. Upon opening it, you found items that didn’t seem to belong to him.

Inside the small shoebox were photos and mementos from your old home that you thought had perished in the fire. Pictures of your family and childhood, your birth certificate, social security card, and ID. All of which were tucked away in Bucky’s personal effects.

You nearly battled down the stairs as you ran through the house.

"What is this?" You could barely speak as each word caught in the back of your throat.

He looked at the box in your arms but didn’t answer, instead ignoring the question to place a bowl on one of the shelves.

"Answer me, Bucky!" You forced it out as loud as you could to echo off the walls and windows.

"I think you already know what all of that is."

"But..why do you have it? I thought.."

"Thought what? They burned up? No, I made sure to recover a few personal items before the fire started."

You choked on the air and listened to him unfold a terrible tale. He’d never spoken to you this harshly before, and it made the hair stand up on your arms.

"Before it started? Did you burn down my house?"

"I did what had to be done so we could get closer to one another."

"MY FATHER DIED IN THAT FIRE!"

"Now that was unintentional." Or was it?

"Why did you keep these if you didn’t want to get caught?"

He just shrugged before leaning against the kitchen counter before answering. "It just seemed like it would be something our children could have after we’re gone."

"Our children?" You nearly choked on the very words, your stomach twisting with disgust and fear. You almost felt as if you could wretch at his feet from the sickness building in your belly. It’s a slap in the face to really see how far he plans to go and what he did to get here.

"What is wrong with you?" You bit out at him.

"I think it’s time to go to bed; clearly you're tired." He grabs at your wrist only to have you yank it away and growl out, "Don’t touch me!"

His eyes narrowed, and his smile fell, giving him a more dangerous demeanor. "What now, then?"

"Where do you think you’re going to run?" His voice was barely a shout, but it still stung to hear it because he was right. You had no bridges left to run to, and the realization made everything spill right out.

“You don’t have anyone anymore.” His voice was soft and yet menacing, as if he spoke to you like a little mouse stuck in his maze.

He still reaches for you to wipe your tears away, saying "But, you have me, and only me." His voice will be dipped in this sickly, sweet poison that he’s been feeding you for so long. "That’s all you ever have."

The less you knew the better it was to accept this. You’d re-hide the box and leave it as a false memory at the back of your mind. You wouldn’t ask about it, nor would you ask about all the numbers in your phone being wrong after finally checking your contacts more thoroughly. It was all too late.

You couldn’t bear starting over again.

▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️

This took me so long to do with my job becoming increasingly busy, and losing half of it in the proofreading machine. I’m am so glad I got this out but I wish I could have finished sooner.

Want more Bucky? Then check out Bucky’s masterlist!

#fanfiction #fanfic #smut #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x you #james bucky buchanan barnes #bucky smut #roughfuck #dark bucky x you #dark bucky barnes #firefighter #firefighter Bucky Barnes #FireFighter Bucky x reader #secretly evil #secretly evil Bucky

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jobean12-blog · 1 year ago

Note

long time no see my lovely Jo! 🥰

thought i’d pop by and leave a little trick or treat in the form of:

fireman bucky 🫡

mwah mwah 💋

Sophie my love! HIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII! How are you sweets? <3 I hope you're doing well and everything great! I'm so happy to hear from you!

AND OMG HOLY CANOLI these are gorgeous! There has been so much Seb AI stuff floating around and some of it is just delish. This is such a TREAT! wow. It's so hot. Like firey hot. Thank you so very much for all this goodness, you're making my Monday way better!

Hope you have the best day ever! hugs and love always! ❤️❤️❤️❤️

#happiness is this #❤️❤️❤️❤️

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ladysif8 · 6 months ago

Text

🍩 Sweet Heat 🍩

•Pairing: Firefighter Bucky Barnes/OFC

•Rating: General Audience

•Tags: Firefighter AU, Firemen Bucky, Curvy/Tall/Tattooed OFC, Firefighter Avengers, Flirting, Meet-Cute, Cat Rescue, Humor, Everyone Picks On Bucky

•Summary:

Fireman Bucky Barnes discovers the delicious doughnuts of Chubby Dough while at the local Farmers Market, and he is instantly smitten. When he meets Aria, the quirky doughnut goddess herself, sparks fly between them. However, fate intervenes when Bucky is called away on duty, missing the chance to get her number. Weeks later, fate as their paths cross again when Bucky receives a call about a cat stuck in a tree, which turns out to be Aria's.

The sky is a stretched canvas of endless blue, wisps of white clouds scattered like strokes of a painter’s brush sailing on a gentle breeze, casting fleeting shadows on the ground below. The air is filled with a warmth that wraps around everything, holding the promise of long, lazy days of adventures. It was a warm July Saturday in Pikesville, Indiana. Which only meant one thing… Farmer’s Markets.

The bustling energy made the air feel alive as the aroma of freshly picked fruits, fragrant herbs, and other seasonal produce mingled together—stalls overflowed with various colorful fruits and vegetables, showcasing the best summer harvest. Juicy, sweet watermelons, succulent peaches, and plump berries beckoned with their sweet smells and vibrant colors. Heirloom tomatoes, vibrant yellow, red, and green peppers, sweet candy onions, just-picked green beans, zucchini, and crisp cucumbers this morning. The local farmers proudly offered the fruits of their labor in their wide-brimmed hats and sun-kissed smiles. Baskets of sunflowers and bouquets of herbs add a rustic charm to the scene, and tables are filled with jars of freshly made jams and jellies. The air was filled with the enticing aroma of freshly baked bread, flaky pastries, and aromatic coffee contributions from the local artisans and bakers—stalls filled with handcrafted jewelry and pottery, offering unique treasures to discover. With booths from local organizations, the library is offering a free book per child, along with the local Police, Fire Department, and other various organizations. Conversation buzzed in the air as customers engaged with farmers and vendors alike.

Children scampered between aisles, clutching dripping ice cream cones, while families gathered around shaded picnic tables, enjoying farm-to-table meals prepared right there with nothing but the freshest ingredients by local food trucks. There was a wide variety of cuisine, such as a taco truck that specialized in authentic Mexican food, serving up mouth-watering tacos from traditional carne asada to vegetarian options—a burger truck offered everything from the classic cheeseburger to gourmet with a range of toppings. A BBQ truck known for its smokey and tender means, slow-cooked ribs, pulled pork sandwiches, brisket, and more. A pizza truck offers wood-fired oven pizzas on wheels, passing out freshly made slices or whole pies with a wide range of toppings. An Asian fusion truck is blending flavors and techniques from various Asian cuisines, serving up Korean tacos, Vietnamese banh mi sandwiches, and Thai-inspired noodle bowls. A seafood truck offers a taste of the ocean in the form of fish tacos, lobster rolls, shrimp po’boys, and other seafood delicacies. Several dessert trucks specializing in tasty ice creams, decadent pastries, cupcakes, cookies, and doughnuts of every flavor were waiting to offer up sweet treats to round off the savory meals consumed. Local musicians strummed guitars and played lively tunes, infusing the market with a cheerful melody. Under the warm sun, the farmer’s market buzzed as a hub of the community, where neighbors greeted each other with smiles and shared stories. It was a place where the spirit of summer thrived—a place to savor the flavors of summer.

"Thank you for your support," Sam said with a smile as a group of giggling teenagers hurried away with copies of the Pikesville Fire Department yearly calendar.

The local Fire Department had chosen the Pikesville Animal Welfare as the non-profit organization to support through their calendar fundraisers this year.

"That's another one for me," Sam declared, walking over and placing a crumpled twenty-dollar bill into the cash box. "How many have you sold, Barnes?" he asked Bucky.

Bucky rolled his eyes but checked the unofficial tally sheet. "Uh, thirty-two," he replied.

"Thirty-four," Sam countered, a smug smirk on his face.

"Come on, guys," Steve interjected, stepping between them.

"He's just jealous," Sam said, slipping his thumbs between his navy PFD t-shirt and the red suspenders from his turnout pants.

Bucky scoffed, "As if," he retorted, crossing his muscular arms over his chest. "I think the heat is getting to your brain; you do remember the signs of heat stroke, right, Wilson?"

"Guys," Steve warned, trying to diffuse the tension.

Just then, Natasha reappeared like a redheaded angel, holding a bright pink pastry box. She gracefully made her way around the two tables covered in red tablecloths adorned with a Pikesville Fire Department banner. The tables were stacked with calendars, each featuring a member of the PFD for every month alongside an adorable shelter animal. In addition to the calendars, a poster board was prominently displayed, showcasing pictures of the shelter animals and their names and information. The board served as a visual representation, capturing the attention and hearts of passersby. Each photograph conveyed the unique personality and charm of the animals, inviting potential adopters to learn more about them. The information provided on the board offered insights into their age, breed, and endearing traits, further encouraging visitors to consider opening their homes and hearts to these furry companions.

"Alright, boys, I have doughnuts," Tasha sang happily, her voice brimming with delight. With a cheerful demeanor, she carefully placed the box of doughnuts on the table, elegantly flipping back the lid, and stepped away, creating an alluring display of sweet treats for everyone to enjoy. "Thor, Scott, Clint, come on over. I've got doughnuts!" Tasha called out to the other members of their squad, who were gathered by the fire engine.

"Oooh, yes!" Scott exclaimed, jogging over and energetically shaking his shoulders as he rubbed his hands together in anticipation.

Clint followed suit while Thor was preoccupied with allowing a young boy to try on his helmet, drawing the attention of the boy's mother, who couldn't help but check out the tall blonde firefighter.

The aroma of freshly baked doughnuts wafted through the air. The sight of the various flavors and toppings tantalized their taste buds, drawing the guys closer to the table to choose their favorite doughnuts.

Bucky swiftly snatched a doughnut with a thick brown glaze, chopped pecans, and a drizzle of chocolate. He settled back in his chair, taking a large bite.

"Holy shit," he mumbled around his mouthful, the doughnut tasting like a decadent caramel turtle.

Sounds of approval and satisfied hums echoed throughout their tent.

“Hey Tash, where’d you get these?” Scott asked, stuffing half a doughnut into his mouth.

Steve hummed, “These are the best doughnuts I’ve ever had,” he commented, taking a much smaller bite than the man next to him.

“Chubby Dough Doughnuts,” Tasha answered, ripping a piece of the sticky fried dough. “These two girls run the truck; Yelena kept going on and on about them,” she adds before plopping the piece in her mouth.

The tent was silent as everyone chowed down, but that didn’t last long. Barton just had to open his trap.

"So, who's winning so far?" Clint asked, jelly smudges adorning his mouth.

Steve groaned, "God damn it, Clint."

"I'm glad you asked, Barton," Sam said with a smile, taking another bite of his doughnut. "It's me," he proclaimed, his voice slightly muffled by the fullness of his mouth.

"Oh man, that's gonna suck cleaning all the engines alone, Buck," Scott remarked, licking some whipped filling off the side of his hand.

Bucky grunted, unamused. "There's still plenty of time for me to wipe the floor with Sam," he retorted.

Tasha produced a napkin for Clint, who sheepishly accepted it. "No manners, the lot of you," she shook her head, playfully scolding them.

"Ha!" Sam laughed sarcastically, his tone laced with playful annoyance.

"Alright, guys, come on, do we have to do this every year?" Steve asked, looking between Bucky and Sam.

"Yes," they both answered in unison, a mischievous glint in their eyes.

Steve sighed, his exasperation evident as he dragged a hand down his face.

Fortunately, another wave of people approached the booth. Several women and a few men purchased calendars, dropping a few dollars into the jar in front of the poster board. Some of the customers requested the squad to sign their pictures, a request that the firefighters gladly obliged. With smiles on their faces, they interacted with members of the community.

A beautiful woman with raven hair approached the table, her gaze fixed on the post board displaying various animals. She reached out and picked up a calendar, flipping through its pages.

“Those animals are all just a few tents down if you’re interested in adopting any of them,” Bucky said, sauntering over to the woman with a flirtatious smirk.

She raised an eyebrow, a hint of mischief in her eyes. “Are any of the firefighters available?” Her gaze traveled up and down Bucky’s form, and she teasingly licked her lips.

"They might be. Which month caught your eye?" he asked.

The woman pondered, twisting her lips in thought. "Well, Mister July has that All-American apple pie vibe," she remarked, stealing a glance at Steve. He was engaged in conversation with an older woman, her curly white hair framing her face. It was evident that she had taken a liking to him, her hand gently resting on his forearm and a blush coloring his cheeks.

"Is that so?" Bucky asked, his voice still carrying a flirty and playful tone.

The woman stepped closer, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "But you know, Mister October has this tall, dark, and dangerous feel to him. He's the kind of guy I'd love to bring home to meet my parents, just to see their disapproval," she admitted, biting her bottom lip playfully.

Bucky winced, realizing his reaction had been more noticeable than intended. He quickly cleared his throat. "Well, we genuinely appreciate your contributions. All proceeds will go to the Animal Shelter to provide them with new equipment, enabling them to help the animals better," he explained.

The woman's eyes widened, then narrowed as she abruptly pulled a twenty-dollar bill from her wallet and slapped it onto Bucky's chest before walking away.

A low whistle caught Bucky's attention, and he turned to see Sam approaching him.

"You alright, Buck?" Sam asked, concern evident in his gaze.

Bucky frowned, turning on his heels and starting to walk around the table. "Yeah, I'm fine," he replied, his tone slightly curt.

"You don't look it, man," Sam pointed out, walking alongside Bucky.

Bucky let out a sigh. "It's always the same with every woman," he muttered, crossing his arms. His navy PFD t-shirt stretched across his chest, highlighting his muscular physique. "They look at me and automatically assume... well, they think I'm some sort of—"

"Fuckboy?" Sam interjected, raising an eyebrow.

Bucky's frown deepened. "Sure, let's go with that," he said, rolling his eyes in mild exasperation.

"Listen, man," Sam sighed, his voice filled with genuine concern. "You're a good guy, Barnes. You've got a good heart, you're smart and funny, and hell, you're easy on the eyes," he chuckled softly. "You'll find the one, somebody who sees beyond the surface." Sam reached out, giving Bucky's shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

"Thanks, Sam," Bucky replied, mustering a grateful but slightly weary smile.

Sam nodded. "No problem, man. You good?" he asked, looking for confirmation.

"Yeah, I'm good," Bucky confirmed, appreciating the support.

Sam began to walk away.

"Hey, Wilson, let's try not to go through this again, alright?" Bucky called out, slumping down into a chair. "Kinda made me feel dirty."

"Oh, fuck you, man," Sam chuckled teasingly before leaving the tent. "I'm still gonna kick your ass," Sam tossed over his shoulder with a playful grin.

Bucky chuckled and shouted, "Only in your dreams, Wilson!"

Eventually, the competition between Sam and Bucky faded into the background, but it resurfaced when Thor finally made his way over to the group.

"How goes the competition, Barnes?" Thor inquired, grabbing a doughnut from the box. "Are you kicking Wilson's ass?"

Thor's words caused Steve to almost whine in exasperation, feeling like he wanted to repeatedly bash his head against a hard surface.

"Ha! I'm at... forty-eight," Sam declared confidently.

Bucky grinned. "Fifty-two," he countered, a playful spark in his eyes.

"Ain't no way," Sam crossed his arms, showcasing his bulging biceps.

Scott leaned forward, inspecting the tally sheet. "Yeah, Barnes is right," he confirmed, his tone revealing the truth of Bucky's higher count.

The friendly rivalry between Sam and Bucky was reignited.

"Alright, knock it off, guys," Tasha interjected, her voice carrying a note of authority from her perch on the table. "You're both hot, we get it, but you're going to give our Captain an aneurysm," she playfully scolded, gesturing toward Steve.

The squad chuckled, understanding that the good-natured teasing had its limits. With a collective nod, the firefighters refocused their attention on interacting with the customers, signing calendars, and polishing off the last of the doughnuts Natasha had brought.

Taking a much-needed break from running their booth, Bucky felt a sense of relief mingled with excitement at the prospect of indulging in some delicious treats and moseying about the other stalls and booths with Steve. While he enjoyed managing their booth, he knew that a short break would do him some good. The delightful aromas from the food trucks wafted through the air, luring them closer with each step.

Steve turned to Bucky, inquiring about his lunch preference, "What are you in the mood for?"

With a smile, the brunette replied, "That BBQ smells amazing."

Steve enthusiastically agreed, "Sounds good to me, as long as we make a stop at that doughnut truck before we head back Thor said they have blueberry streusel doughnuts."

Bucky chuckled, appreciating their love for food, “I knew you were my best friend for a reason.”

“I hope that’s not the only reason,” Steve chuckled, elbowing Bucky playfully.

Fifteen short minutes later, Bucky and Steve were happily munching on a little dish of crispy golden brown tater tots topped with sweet, smokey, and tangy pulled pork drenched in BBQ sauce, a drizzle of nacho cheese, thin slices of red onion, chopped green onions, and jalapeno slices from the BBQ food truck. As they strolled through the bustling stalls, they enjoyed their lunch and chatted with old high school friends and other folks from the community. They leisurely made their way around the market, pausing at tables filled with tempting goods.

"Oh man," Steve sighed contentedly as he tossed his little paper dish into the trash. "That was delicious," he said, stretching his arms above his head.

Bucky nodded in agreement, quickly finishing his last bite before following Steve's lead and disposing of his paper dish in the trash.

"Man, I'm so full," Bucky groaned, patting his belly as he walked alongside Steve, the band playing a cover of some Charlie Daniels song.

"Too stuffed for doughnuts?" Steve quipped, raising an eyebrow.

Bucky gave him an exaggerated hurt expression, shaking his head, “And here I thought we were friends—"

“—Best friends," Steve corrected with a grin.

" Right, right, best friends,” Bucky amended, “I'm utterly appalled you'd ever think I'm a quitter," he retorted, pretending to be outraged.

Steve couldn’t help but laugh at his friend’s expression as they joined the line at Cubby Dough Doughnuts.

"Oh, my bad, I forgot Mama Barnes didn't raise a quitter,” Steve teased, playfully nudging Bucky’s arm with his elbow.

“Damn straight; now, let’s if the beautiful doughnut goddesses can entice me into taking just on—”

Bucky’s words faded away as he got entranced by the captivating woman with a dark, messy bun, a neon green sticking out the side, her smokey eye makeup, and mesmerizing hazel blue eyes—a mix of brown, green, and blue that looked like a cosmic swirl framed in with dark thick-rimmed glasses, cute little button nose, her lip was a sight to behold with the most alluring shade of pink he had ever seen, a natural cupid’s bow—a perfectly formed curve that gave her smile this irresistible charm. She had on a black t-shirt, hot pink frosting, and bright pink letters with sprinkles, proudly stating Donut Squad, and when she turned around, he noticed the back of her shirt was the name Chubb Dough. Her smile was dazzling; he watched as she tucked a whisp of hair behind her ear, the many colorful bracelets around her wrist catching the light. Bucky was intrigued.

“Buck?” Steve said, trying to contain his laughter as he lightly chuckled, attempting to get his friend’s attention.

Still entranced by the doughnut goddess, Bucky turned to Steve with a dreamy look in his eyes. “I think I might be in doughnut heaven,” Bucky mumbled to Steve.

"Holy smokes, dude," Darcy groaned, leaning her head against the compact refrigerator. "They just keep coming and coming," she mumbled, opening the door to grab a water bottle.

Aria chuckled, "Isn’t that the point?" she asked, taking another tray of doughnuts from the warmer.

"I mean, I guess; I don't know why I let you talk me into this hair-brain scheme of yours," Darcy said, taking a long drink from the bottle.

"Ha! Because really, I had to twist your arm," Aria replied dryly, carrying the tray to the work table. "You know you secretly love this doughnut-making adventure!" she teased, rolling her eyes playfully.

Darcy couldn't resist teasing her friend further. She reached over and pinched Aria's cheek, playfully saying in a baby voice, "It's so hard to say no to this cute little face," while patting Aria's cheek.

Aria playfully batted Darcy's hand away, giving her a mock glare. "Yeah, yeah, very funny," she said, trying to suppress a smile.

The dinging of a bell echoed throughout the small food truck.

"Ah, they summon me," Darcy sighed, finishing off her bottle of water. "The public awaits," she announced with a playful flourish, crushing the bottle and making her way back to the front window, ready to serve the hungry customers.

Aria playfully rolled her eyes at Darcy's dramatic announcement. She then grabbed an icing bag filled with delicious cheesecake icing, adjusting her hold on the small bag. Starting at one end of the tray, she skillfully gave each golden brown, perfectly cooked doughnut a delightful drizzle of creamy and tangy icing, followed by their rich caramel sauce and decadent chocolate ganache to the doughnuts, making sure each one was beautifully coated. She artfully sprinkled chopped pecans across the top as a finishing touch, completing the mouthwatering treat—the enticing aroma of freshly made doughnuts filled the air, enticing the eagerly waiting customers.

Cubby Dough had humble beginnings as a tiny pop-up camper that Aria and Darcy purchased from a questionable gentleman on Craigslist. They embarked on the ambitious project of gutting and remodeling the entire camper themselves, and it was no easy task. They spent countless late nights watching YouTube videos, trying to figure out how to connect the plumbing and make everything work. Thankfully, Aria's Dad came to the rescue, offering his years of experience and a helping hand with his tools. With their determination and his guidance, within six months, Chubby Dough was finally transformed into a mobile doughnut haven. That was four years ago, and since then, the little food truck has been delighting customers with its delectable treats all over the southern part of the state.

Today the food truck is built on a 22ft trailer with black sheet metal sides and roof, giving it a modern and sleek appearance. The silver servicing window is not only functional but also adds a contrasting element to the black and wooden features; it can be easily closed and locked for security when the food truck is not in operation; outside the window is a practical butcher block counter bar on the outside, where customers are greeted. The wooden trim around the windows adds a touch of warmth and rustic charm to the overall look. Inside is a compacted modern kitchen, a double fryer, a large proofer, a warmer, and all the necessities one needs to operate a food truck; a large butcher block workspace and prep tables provide ample space for food preparation and serving. The crowning glory is the light-up sign that proudly displays the truck's name, "Chubby Dough," drawing attention and helping customers easily recognize and locate the food truck.

As the morning rush settled down, Aria and Darcy decided to switch spots; Darcy had reached her limit dealing with customers at the front.

"I'm just not built to deal with people," Darcy grumbled, washing her hands in the sink.

Aria couldn't help but laugh. "You're in the wrong business, my dude," she teased, finding humor in her friend's confession.

Darcy chuckled at Aria's playful response and played along, giving Aria an exaggeratedly sad expression. "Oh, I know, right?” she said dramatically. “It's a never-ending doughnut-filled nightmare," she joked, pretending to be overwhelmed.

Aria gave her a mock sympathetic look. "Oh, poor Darcy," she said, trying to hold back a laugh. "It must be so tough," she added before bursting into laughter.

As the pace picked up once more, doughnuts were flying out of the window as fast as Aria and Darcy could make them. They were in sync, their teamwork seamless as they worked together to keep up with the demand. It was a flurry of dough, icing, and toppings, all coming together in perfect harmony. The little food truck was once again buzzing with excitement, and the smiles on their customers' faces made all the hard work worthwhile.

Aria quickly excused herself, saying, "Give me just a second," as she grabbed a fresh notepad and reached for the green pen that was stuck in her messy bun. She spoke as she turned back around; she looked up to take the next-in-line orders. “Chub…Chubby Do—” she said, stumbling over her words.

One of the men was tall, sporting short blonde hair and baby blue eyes with a subtle hint of green around the iris. He had a solid and muscular build, dressed in a navy PFD shirt that emphasized his strength.

The other man was just an inch shorter than the blonde, with curly brown hair on top and tapered sides. His mesmerizing blue eyes resembled a stormy summer evening, bringing back memories of the scent of rain-soaked earth. His handsome face was adorned with a cleft chin and a set of the prettiest pink lips. Like his companion, he also wore a navy PFD shirt that barely contained his well-defined and impressive muscles.

Aria was taken aback, almost losing her balance in the process. She managed to offer a slightly awkward smile. "Welcome to Chubby Dough... Uh, what can I get you, gentlemen?" She quickly corrected herself as she almost knotted her pen in her hair.

The tall blonde man smiled warmly, his baby blue eyes twinkling with amusement. "You were close," he said with a gentle chuckle. "I'll have two of your blueberry streusel doughnuts, please."

The man with the captivating stormy blue eyes flashed a playful grin, making Aria’s heart flutter. As he glanced at the menu, he asked in a smooth and inviting voice, “What’s your favorite?”

Aria’s nerves got the best of her, and she pointed to herself, feeling like more of an awkward mess than she already was. “M-mine?” she stammered, blushing under his gaze. The man nodded, his smile still warm and encouraging. “Oh, uh, Jesus,” she muttered, nervously licking her lips as she pushed up her glasses.

He raised a curious eyebrow, intrigued by her reaction, then looked at the menu again. “I’ll take one of those,” he said, pointing to her favorite doughnut, “and a maple bacon, please.”

Aria nodded, trying her best not to make a fool out of herself further. "Sure thing! Two blueberry streusel, one Jesus, and one maple bacon coming right up," she replied, writing down their order on the notepad, trying to hide her flustered state while secretly thrilled that he had chosen her recommendation.

As she turned to start preparing their doughnuts, Darcy peeked over her shoulder, curious about the sudden change in her friend's demeanor. Aria couldn't help but blush slightly, secretly hoping she looked presentable despite the messy bun and lime green pin.

"Hey, who are these fine-looking specimens?" Darcy whispered teasingly, earning a playful nudge from Aria.

"Just focus on your doughnut-making, will you?" Aria whispered back, glancing over her shoulder at the two men chatting outside the truck.

“You’re no fun,” Darcy grumbled, heading back toward the fryer.

Darcy's pouty face made Aria chuckle as she continued working on the doughnuts. Every morning hours before an event, Aria and Darcy would head out early, starting on their batter for the day; they would start frying until the first customer arrived. By then, the warmers were filled with tray after tray of freshly fried doughnuts, each doughnut that left through Chubby Dough's window was freshly made to order, it was a bit time-consuming, but it was worth the short wait.

Aria started with two plain golden-brown doughnuts, dipping each in a thin white glaze. She added their homemade blueberry compote and topped them with a delightful streusel. Moving on, she took two more doughnuts and dipped one in a thick maple glaze, generously adding chunks of maple bacon. The other doughnut was lightly coated in a thin glaze before being tossed in cinnamon sugar, its top dipped into a vanilla frosting and topped with a drizzle of thick gooey caramel.

As Darcy assembled a box for the four heavenly treats, she playfully pointed out, "You know that guy keeps looking in here at you."

Curious, Aria glanced over her shoulder to see the brunette with stormy blue eyes giving her a wide, flirtatious smile. A hint of a blush crept up her cheeks, but she tried to maintain her composure while finishing the doughnut orders.

Aria carefully transferred the beautifully crafted doughnuts into the bright pink box that Darcy had left on her table. She looked down at the delectable treats, feeling a sense of pride in her creations. Closing the box, she made her way to the window and set it down on the countertop outside. Turning to the tablet used for processing payments, she greeted the two men with a friendly smile.

“Alright, gentlemen, your total is $16.20 after the first responder discount,” Aria said, glancing over at the two men.

Before the blonde man could even react, the brunette quickly pulled out his wallet and handed over a twenty-dollar bill. “Keep the change,” he said with a playful wink, taking charge of the payment.

Aria felt her heart race a little faster, but she managed to nod in response, inwardly cursing her nervousness. “Th—thank you,” she stammered, trying her best to keep her cool.

“Have a good one, ma’am,” the blonde said with a warm smile as he took the box of doughnuts. He nudged the brunette, who seemed entranced by Aria, prompting him to stumble back a few steps before they both walked away.

As Aria bit her lip, trying to hide her smile, she celebrated her small victory before she noticed that the brunette was still looking back at her with a wild grin. Her face flushed with embarrassment, and she quickly ducked back inside the truck, trying to hide from his gaze. The whole encounter left her heart racing, and she couldn’t help but wonder if she’d see him again.

Steve's excitement was evident as he eagerly opened the lid to the bright pink box, revealing the array of sticky sweet, and fresh doughnuts inside. The delightful aroma wafted into his face, making his mouth water.

"I think I'm in love," Bucky sighed dreamily, unable to resist the temptation of the delectable treats as he snatched one of his doughnuts out of the box. He took a large bite, “Jesus,” he mumbled with his mouthful looking down at the doughnut in his hand.

Steve paused with his doughnut almost at his mouth, giving Bucky a playful look. "With the doughnut or the girl?” he asked, laughing.

“Do they have to be mutually exclusive?” Bucky asked before taking another bite.

Steve chuckled at Bucky's response, thoroughly enjoying the banter between them. "Fair enough," he said, taking a bite of his doughnut. "Guess you can have your doughnut and eat it too," he teased before devouring the rest of his treat.

Bucky grinned, his eyes twinkling mischievously. "Who says I can't have the best of both worlds?" he replied, savoring another mouthful of the delectable doughnut. They continued to enjoy their sweet indulgence on their way back to the Fire Department’s booth.

As Aria and Darcy finished packing up the food truck, they couldn't help but feel exhaustion and satisfaction from another successful day at Cubby Dough. It wasn't their first time running out of doughnuts, but they knew it meant they had served plenty of happy customers. The two friends decided to take advantage of their free afternoon and treat themselves. They locked up the truck and made their way to the farmers market, excited to explore and indulge in some of the delicious offerings from other vendors.

The farmers market was still bustling with activity, and Aria and Darcy relished in the sights and sounds around them. It was a well-deserved break for the duo, a chance to relax and enjoy the vibrant atmosphere of the local community.

“Oh hey, look who it is,” Darcy pointed toward the Pikesville Fire Department’s booth. “It’s the smokin’ hot fireman,” she says as the pair look through a display of hand-painted vases.

Darcy's playful comment about the "smokin' hot fireman" caught Aria's attention, and she followed Darcy's finger to spot the brunette at the Pikesville Fire Department's booth.

"Oh, cool, come on," Aria said, attempting to steer in the opposite direction.

Darcy was quick to intervene, snatching her friend's hand. "Ah ah ah," she chuckled, "Where do you think you're going?"

Aria blinked at her friend, puzzled by the question. "Isn't it obvious? Anywhere but near him, duh," she replied with a sheepish grin, trying to hide her mild embarrassment.

“Oh no, you don’t,” Darcy shook her head, laughing; she tugged Aria toward the booth.

When she got into this playful and determined mood, Aria knew better than to argue or stop Darcy. With a resigned sigh, she reluctantly followed her friend toward the Pikesville Fire Department's booth. Aria braced herself for whatever fun or mischief Darcy had in mind as they approached the booth.

A short blonde man greeted them warmly as they approached the table, offering them a Firemen's calendar to support the Pikesville Animal Welfare.

Darcy couldn't resist flipping through the calendar and teasingly muttered to Aria, "I'm gonna have to set my house on fire. Take a look at these guys." She tilted the calendar towards her friend, showcasing the tall blonde fireman who had come with the brunette. He was photographed wearing nothing but patriotic swim trunks and aviators, his chest glistening, and a flirty smile on his lips as he sprayed a hose; the golden retriever next to him was living her best life chomping at the water.

"Darcy," Aria said, trying to hide her amusement.

Aria couldn't help but be drawn to the poster board displaying animals available for adoption. Among them was a black cat named Smokey, with shiny black fur and beautiful yellow eyes. She found herself contemplating the idea of adopting him.

Darcy's amused voice interrupted her thoughts, still ogling the firefighters' calendar. "I wouldn't even think about it," she advised. "Doom wouldn't even look at you for a week after you brought your goldfish home; I can't imagine how she'll react if you bring another cat home."

Aria frowned, acknowledging that Darcy had a valid point. Doom Kitty, her temperamental feline companion, was not the easiest to get along with. Despite her delicate appearance and sweet meow, she had a feisty side and often showed her claws to anyone other than Aria. Even with Aria, she sometimes seemed more tolerated than genuinely liked.

"Well, hello there, Mr. October," Darcy playfully sang out, cocking her head to the side. "Aria, you gotta see this," she said, turning the calendar toward her friend.

Aria blinked as the calendar was thrust into her face, and her eyes fell upon the stormy blue-eyed man, shirtless with red suspenders against his tanned, toned physique; his chest had a fine dusting of hair across it, dark pink nipples, the hair seem to disappear over his well defined six pack the dusting of dark hair narrowing just under his navel disappearing into the slung low waistband of his turnout pants, showing off his Adonis belt. He stood on a ladder propped against a beautiful tree with vibrant autumn leaves in reds, browns, orange, and yellow hues. Surrounding the tree were jack-o-lanterns and hay bales, adding to the seasonal charm. He firmly gripped the ladder in one hand while the other held a black cat against his naked torso. He smiled, half-smirking for the camera, his disheveled brown hair adding a hint of charm to his rugged appearance. The picture defiantly captured the essence of October and the spirit of the season.

"I can get him to sign that for you," the short blonde said with a friendly smile. He leaned over the table, propping his head on his elbows as he looked up at them.

Aria and Darcy exchanged glances, Darcy excited and mischievous, while Aria silently begged her friend not to go through with it. "Oh, that would be amazing!" Darcy exclaimed, her eyes lighting up with mischief, clearly ignoring her friend's silent plea.

Aria couldn't help but glare at Darcy, trying to convey her reluctance. "Oh, you really don't have to," she said to the friendly fireman, mustering a smile.

The short blonde nodded, his warm smile never fading. "Nonsense!" he assured them with a wave of his hand. "It's for a good cause, after all."

"Oh, I'm Darcy, by the way," she introduced herself with a smile, holding out her hand to the man.

"Clint," he replied, shaking her hand.

Darcy couldn't resist adding a playful twist to the introduction. "Oh, and this is Aria; she totally has a thing for Mr. October," Darcy grinned wickedly, teasing her friend.

Aria's face flushed with embarrassment, and she playfully nudged Darcy, trying to downplay the comment. "Ignore her, please," she said, chuckling softly. Clint chuckled, too, finding their banter amusing.

Clint playfully drummed his hand on the table. "Don't move, ladies. I'll be right back," he winked before quickly turning on his heels and jogging towards the fire engine.

Aria couldn't help but hiss at Darcy, feeling embarrassed. "I hate you," she whispered through clenched teeth.

Darcy laughed at her friend's reaction, teasingly insisting, "No, you don't. You love me," she said with a mischievous grin, knowing that Aria's frustration was all in good fun.

Clint couldn’t resist teasing his friend as he approached Bucky and Steve. “Hey Buck, got a pretty lady over here that has a thing for Mr. October,” he said with a sly grin.

Bucky’s interest was piqued, and he looked up eagerly. “Oh yeah?” he asked, licking his lips with curiosity.

Clint playfully pointed to the two women standing in front of their table, drawing Bucky’s attention to Aria and Darcy.

One of them had her hair braided in playful pigtails; she was dressed in denim capris and the same black t-shirt he had seen earlier. As Bucky’s eyes landed on the woman standing next to her friend, he couldn’t help but be captivated by her appearance all over again. Her hair was down from its messy bun, and the sunlight caught the purple hues mixed into her dark locks, adding a touch of uniqueness to her look. Now that he had the opportunity, Bucky let his eyes roam down her full body; he’d missed the purple crystal necklace hanging around her neck, resting on her full breast that stretched out the shirt. He licked his lips, admiring her soft-looking tummy, wondering how her curves would feel under his hands. God bless whoever made those denim shorts hugging her plump ass and thick thighs showing off her beautifully tattooed legs; Bucky wanted to get more aquatinted with legs.

“Oh ho ho,” Steve chuckled, playfully slapping Bucky’s shoulder. “Looks like the doughnut goddess has heard your prayers,” he teased, referring to Aria, who seemed to have captured Bucky’s attention.

Bucky laughed along, giving Steve a mock-annoyed look. “Yeah, yeah,” he replied, rolling his eyes in good humor.

As Bucky and Steve followed Clint over to where the women stood, they were introduced to the charming duo.

Clint pointed to Steve and said, “Ladies, this here is our Captain Steve Rogers, aka Mr. July.” Steve gave a friendly nod to Darcy and Aria, acknowledging the introduction.

Next, Clint gestured toward Bucky and said with a playful grin, “And this here is our Lieutenant Bucky Barnes, aka Mr. October.” He wagged his brows in Aria’s direction, adding a touch of flirtatiousness to the introduction.

Aria’s cheeks turned even redder, and she felt a wave of embarrassment wash over her. The playful teasing and unexpected attention made her feel flustered, and she wished she could disappear.

“Aria here has a thing for Mr. October and wants him to sign her calendar,” Clint announced with a playful smile.

Bucky raised a curious eyebrow, “Is that so?” he asked, a smirk playing on his pretty pink lips as he held his hand out for the calendar. Which Darcy quickly handed over.

Aria was beginning to wonder if one could die from embarrassment. “I like black cats,” she blurted out awkwardly. Desperately wishing for a giant hole could appear and swallow her up.

Bucky chuckled warmly and teased, “I hope that’s not all you liked,” he winked, signing his name to the corner.

Aria’s cheeks reddened further; she was going to murder Darcy.

Before anyone could speak, a series of urgent tones came through the radio attached to Steve and Bucky’s belt, and everyone around the booth stilled to listen.

“Engine two, this is Central Dispatch—code 3. We have a report of a structure fire on 708 North Maple Street. Please respond immediately,” the voice on the other end urgently relayed.

Steve wasted no time and reached up to press the button on his microphone. “Engine two, Roger, over,” he replied promptly, his voice steady and focused.

Aria and Darcy stood in awe as Steve, Bucky, and Clint sprang into action, their years of training evident in their swift movements. The fire engine stood ready, its sirens blaring as the crew readied themselves to respond to the emergency; turnout gear seemingly appeared out of thin air as they efficiently dressed.

As the engine roared to life, Bucky gave Aria a reassuring wink before climbing aboard. Steve and Clint exchanged quick glances before they joined Bucky on the engine. In a matter of seconds, they were off, racing towards the structure fire. The engine’s sirens faded into the distance.

Inside the fire engine, Bucky glanced over at Steve, a hint of regret evident on his face. “I should have gotten her number,” he admitted, speaking into the coms.

Steve chuckled, a playful tone in his voice, “You didn’t write yours down when you signed the calendar?”

Bucky’s expression turned sheepish, and he shrugged, “Guess I was too focused on not tripping over my words.”

Clint, who was listening in on the conversation, chimed in with a teasing remark, “Smooth move, Barnes.”

Bucky rolled his eyes good-naturedly, “Thanks for the support, guys.”

Just then, Sam’s voice joined the coms, adding to the banter, “Hey, Bucky, don’t worry. You’ve got the charm of a superhero. I’m sure she won’t forget you that easily.”

Thor’s booming voice followed suit, “Indeed! Fear not, my friend. Many a warrior has stumbled in the presence of a fair maiden. It happens to the best of us!”

Natasha, who had been quiet until now, couldn’t resist joining in, “Oh, come on, boys. Give him a break. We’ve all been there. It’s not easy to flirt when your heart is racing faster than Quicksilver.” She winked at him.

Bucky couldn’t help but laugh at his friends’ comments. “Thanks, appreciate the pep talk.”

As the engine continued toward the scene of the fire, their camaraderie and playful banter lifted their spirits amidst the intensity of the situation.

Two weeks later….

“Doom, please come down,” Aria begged, her voice filled with concern as she looked up into the giant oak tree in her front yard. “Come on, Doom Kitty, please.”

The feline, perched high on a large branch, meowed softly, seemingly indifferent to Aria’s pleas. It stretched out leisurely, basking in the comfort of its elevated spot.

Aria’s heart sank with worry as she tried to coax the stubborn cat down. She sighed, reaching up as if she could physically coax the cat down. “I don’t know how you managed to get up there,” she said, half-amused and half-exasperated.

Doom let out another tiny meow as if acknowledging Aria but showed no intention of budging from its lofty perch.

Suddenly, Darcy appeared by Aria’s side, eating a bowl of Cinnamon Toast Crunch. “Still not budging?” she asked, looking up at the tree.

“It’s Doom Kitty; she doesn’t do anything she doesn’t want to do,” Aria replied, gesturing upward with one hand while the other rested on her hip.

Darcy chuckled, observing the defiant feline. “Looks like she’s quite content up there.”

“Yeah, I think she’s just enjoying the view,” Aria said with a small smile, but her concern was still evident.

The two friends exchanged glances before Darcy suggested, “Why don’t we try shaking the treat bag? Maybe that’ll tempt her down.”

Aria nodded, liking the idea. “Good thinking. Let’s give it a shot.”

As Darcy came back with the treat bag, Aria held her breath, praying Doom would actually be tempted by the treats. The sound of the treats rattling inside seemed to pique Doom’s curiosity. The cat perked up, its ears twitching.

“Come on, Doom Kitty,” Aria called gently, shaking the bag a bit more.

The feline looked around and then down at her owner, almost glaring as she turned around.

As minutes passed, and Doom showed no signs of budging, Aria's worry escalated. "I don't know what to do," she said, her voice tinged with concern.

Darcy pulled out her phone. "I think we should call for help," she suggested. "Let's dial the fire department. They'll have the right tools to get her down safely."

“Uh, no, I don’t think were—

“Too late,” Darcy interrupted happily as she walked back towards the house to explain the situation to the operator.

Aria sighed, defeated, “This is all you’re fault,” she grumbled, scowling at the cat in the tree.

Within minutes, the sound of sirens filled the air, and the fire engine pulled up in front of Aria's house.

Aria recognized the familiar figure stepping out of the fire engine, and her heart sank. It was Bucky; she couldn’t help but notice how good he looked in his turnout gear. The jacket hung open, revealing a navy PFD shirt underneath, and his hair appeared slightly disheveled and sweaty. When their eyes met, Bucky smirked, seemingly amused by Aria’s flushed cheeks and embarrassed expression. Aria couldn’t help but feel self-consciousness under his gaze.

“Hey there, Aria,” he greeted warmly, his voice carrying a hint of playful teasing. "I hear we have a daring feline in a tree?"

“Hey, Hi, um, Bucky,” Aria managed, pushing up her glasses, feeling a mix of relief and awkwardness at the same time. "Yes, that's Doom," she said, gesturing towards the tree. “I’m sorry, Darcy called; it’s just so cliché. Cat stuck up in a tree,” she rambled.

Bucky chuckled, his blue eyes twinkling. “It’s no problem at all; it’s not every day I get to rescue a pretty girl's kitty from a tree,” he replied, his smirk never leaving his lips.

Aria giggled; she actually giggled. Now she has to move out of town, out of the state, and change her name and hair color. Bucky winked at her before he addressed the other two firefighters with him.

Aria and Darcy watched with careful coordination as a ladder extended into the tree; Bucky climbed up it. They watched as Bucky expertly made his way up the tree, reaching out toward Doom with gentle gestures.

"Hey there, Doom Kitty," he called softly, trying to calm the agitated feline. "No need to be scared. I won't hurt you."

However, Doom was having none of it. The closer Bucky got, the more she hissed and growled, clearly not pleased with this unexpected visitor in her domain.

Bucky kept his cool, softening his voice, "It's alright, girl. I just want to help you get down safely," he said, trying to soothe her nerves.

Aria and Darcy watched with concern and amusement as Bucky engaged in a subtle "dance" with Doom Kitty, attempting to gain her trust. There were several swipes with her claws extended at Bucky’s hand; he tugged the glove off, offering the feisty feline his hand for her to sniff. Finally, after a few tense moments, Doom's agitation seemed to subside slightly. She stopped hissing and growling, allowing Bucky to move closer.

"There we go, girl," Bucky said gently, inching closer to Doom with caution. "You're doing great."

With a few more patient efforts, Bucky reached Doom and gently cradled her in his arms. He carefully made his way back down the tree, ensuring the safety of both himself and the feisty feline.

Once they were safely on the ground, Aria rushed forward to take Doom into her arms, relieved to have her furry friend back on solid ground.

“Doom Kitty,” she sighed, taking the grumpy cat from Bucky’s arms. “Thank you,” she said, biting her bottom lip and looking up at the fireman through her lashes.

Doom looked around, seemingly unimpressed by the whole situation. Her feline eyes met Aria’s, and for a moment, it almost seemed as if Doom was giving her owner a disapproving glare.

Aria couldn’t help but chuckle at the comical expression on her cat’s face. “Oh, don’t give me that look, Doom,” she teased affectionately. “You’re the one who got yourself into that mess.”

Doom flicked her tail in response as if to say, “I did it my way.”

Bucky joined in the laughter, finding Doom’s attitude amusing. “She’s got quite the personality,” Bucky remarked, reaching out to pet the cat.

Aria chuckled, feeling a bit more at ease in Bucky's presence. "That's an understatement," she said, rubbing Doom's head affectionately. “She’s a little diva.”

Doom purred contently, enjoying the attention despite her earlier defiance.

As the rest of the team finished packing their equipment, Bucky stepped closer to Aria. “You know, despite the chaos, I’m glad we got to see each other again,” he said with a hint of sincerity.

Aria blushed even more, her heart fluttering at the genuine sentiment in his words. “Yeah, me too,” she admitted, trying to gather her thoughts through her nerves.

Bucky leaned in slightly, his voice lower and filled with charm. “My shift ends in two hours; maybe we could grab a coffee or something together?” he suggested a hopeful glimmer in his eyes.

“I’d like that,” she replied, mustering a confident smile.

As the two of them exchanged numbers, Bucky promised to text her later that day to set up a time for their coffee date. Aria felt excitement and anticipation as she watched him climb back into the fire engine. She couldn’t help but smile as she watched him drive away.

Aria felt a sense of possibility in the air. There was something different about this encounter with Bucky, something that made her heart flutter with the start of something new.

As she stood there, the cool breeze gently brushing against her cheeks, Aria realized that Doom’s mischievous adventure had unexpectedly led her to a chance encounter with Bucky.

“You didn’t plan that, did you?” she asked Doom.

“Murph,” Doom Kitty replied.

Aria raised an eyebrow, “I don’t believe you,” she mumbled, walking back inside her house; Aria’s phone buzzed, and she eagerly checked her messages.

It was Bucky, just as he promised, setting up their coffee date for later that day. Her excitement grew as she replied enthusiastically, looking forward to spending more time with him. Aria couldn’t help but feel the sparks of something special in the air as she lay on the couch that afternoon. She knew that this unexpected meeting had the potential to lead to new beginnings, and she embraced the feeling with an open heart.

Little did she know that the adventurous spirit of her mischievous grumpy cat and the bravery of the firefighter who came to her rescue had set the stage for a beautiful connection that would blossom into a meaningful journey together.

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