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almosttoopizza

Sep 15, 2025

redwing4life

Fire Alarms

CHAPTER 5 | ASHES TO EMBERS

can be read as a stand alone (except tiny mention of previous chapter) :)

PAIRING: Firefighter!Neighbour!Bucky x Fem!Reader

WARNINGS: Angst, apartment fire, reader gets care from paramedics, smut - dom bucky, sarge kink, oral sex (m recieving), throat fucking, dirty talk, unprotected PinV sex, breeding, cum swallowing, rough bucky, semi-public play, male masturbation, small lactation kink, squirting, cock warming?, implied aftercare. lmk if i’ve missed anything :)

SUMMARY: Bucky doesn’t know how he got so lucky, but luck only lasts so long. When Bucky’s crew are called to a fire a little too close to home, your neighbour puts everything on the line to keep you safe, even your relationship.

WORD COUNT: 14,214 (buckle up folks)

A/N: i’m so sorry this has taken so long :( but i hope it’s worth it <3

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

Bucky doesn’t know how he got so lucky.

Like, seriously, what the hell did his dumb ass do to deserve a girl like you, a girl who is so beautiful inside and out that he finds it hard to breathe each time his phone vibrates in his pocket, heart racing at the mere thought of a text from you.

He’s had an abundance of those this morning, a new message waiting for him after each call the crew is dragged out to, and it’s breathing more life into him than his oxygen tank ever has.

From your flirty texts to the most adorable selfies, you’ve had a grown man - a firefighter nonetheless - giggling and kicking his feet all day, and it’s fair to say the crew has noticed.

“Cap, he’s lookin’ at his phone all weird again!” Sam jeers from his seat across and to the right of Bucky, his tone uncannily similar to that of a child telling on his friend to the teacher.

“Again, Buck?” Steve asks from the front bench behind him. “We just got back in the truck!”

It’s true, after putting out a small office complex kitchen fire, the team had only just climbed back into the truck to head back for a well earned break.

Natasha nudges Bucky’s shoulder, wiggling her eyebrows. “What’s she said this time to get you all blushy?”

The unimpressed glare at Sam slowly morphs into a timid glance to his lap, “She hasn’t actually replied for a while.” His voice is so meek that it’s hard for Steve to believe it’s his best friend speaking.

“Nat, is he looking at that photo again?” Steve asks, prompting the redhead to fight Bucky for a peek at his phone screen. She might be smaller than the brunette, but there’s yet to be anyone who can stop her from getting what she wants, even the six foot, two hundred pound hunk of muscle beside her.

Bucky releases a disgruntled murmur when Nat manages to snatch his phone from his grasp, his eyes rolling to the sky when she confirms what Steve had suspected.

“Man, you are so whipped!” Sam laughs, unperturbed by the kick to his shin from the less-than-impressed firefighter across from him. Steve is chuckling from the front seat, hell, even Clint is biting back a grin, his eyes trained on the road as he listens in to the commotion behind him.

“Shut up, Wilson.” Bucky groans. “Same goes to you too, Rogers. Or have you forgotten what I walked into in the turnout room last week?”

Sam’s face falls into one of genuine sincerity, gasping at Bucky’s words, “What happened in the turnout room?”

The Captain has long since been silent, the threat of his secret being spilled sobering him up immediately.

“Yeah, Cap, what did happen in the turnout room?”

Beside him, Natasha has gone suspiciously quiet; if Bucky didn’t know why, then he may not have noticed the dusting of crimson across her cheeks, but he does, and it brings a smirk to his lips.

“What happens in the turnout room, stays in the turnout room.” Steve asserts, though Sam isn’t ready to give it up yet.

“Oh come on, man! You know it’s not healthy to have secrets in the Firehouse!”

Content that the focus isn’t on him anymore, Bucky returns his attention to his phone where the ‘Delivered’ sign has yet to turn to ‘Read’. Where’d you go, doll? He thinks to himself, the sound of his crewmates bickering drowned out by the nagging voice in the back of his head saying something is wrong.

“Drop it, Wilson.” Nat warns, a stern look in her eyes that only adds fuel to the fire.

“What crawled up your ass and died, Romanoff?” Sam says before his jaw drops in shock. “You were there too, weren’t you?! Oh my god, this is-“

The familiar alarm rings through the cabin and Clint happily tells everyone to shut up so they can hear dispatch properly.

Fingers stilling above the keyboard on his phone, Bucky listens to the description and location of the fire and his heart drops.

It’s his address.

It’s your address.

“Buck, is that-“

Laced with fear, your name falls from Bucky’s lips and Steve wastes no time in ordering Clint to step on it.

10:09 AM

You must have dreamt the whole thing.

It’s the only plausible reason for waking up to a cold bed, body aching for a touch you fear you may have never felt. Sheets tangled between your legs, you lay sprawled across the bed with a hand laid flat at the spot you were so damn sure Bucky laid in the last time you were awake.

You dig the heel of your palms into your eyes, hoping to rub away the remnants of the best dream of your life, and wince at the swarm of colours behind your eyelids. By the time you drop your hands beside your head, you’ve convinced yourself that last night never happened and the dull ache between your thighs is nothing but a warning that your period is due.

Fuck this. You think, a groan rising from your dry throat, and push yourself to sit up when you catch something in the corner of your eye.

A glass of water sat on your bedside table and a bottle of painkillers you usually keep in your bathroom cabinet perched by its side; while their sudden appearance draws your brows together, it’s the folded piece of paper with your name scrawled across it that really intrigues you.

Sliding the note out, you recognise the handwriting to be Bucky’s, and for the first time since you woke up, you let yourself hope that last night really did happen.

As hard as it is to leave you, I’ve got to get to work. I didn’t want to wake you as I left, you looked so damn cute and I didn’t wanna disturb you any more than I already had. I’ll be home at 6. I hope you’ll let me make it up to you, staring with letting me fuck you while you wear my henley and then maybe we can remake some of those dreams you’ve had of me ;). Jamie. P.S. hope you’re not aching too much.

Holy motherfucking moly.

Overwhelmed with schoolgirl giddiness, you squeal and kick your feet, only to be reminded that you are, in fact, aching very much. Very, very much.

A smile that could send Bucky Barnes to his knees rests upon your lips seemingly frozen in place. Even as you throw your head back to take the painkillers, your grin remains steadfast; for a moment, you wish your neighbour-turned-lover was with you to relish in your first morning together, but one glance at Bucky’s note remind you that he’ll more than make it up to you.

Checking the time as you unlock your phone, you know Bucky is over four hours into his shift by now, and since he’s the only thing on your mind, you can’t help but wonder if he’s as consumed by thoughts of you as you are of him.

It takes only a moment for you to take matters into your own hands, fingers running through your tussled hair as you open your phone camera. It’s quick, and messy, but the grin that stretches from ear to ear will tell Bucky all he needs to know.

Ignoring the brief insecurities that you’re embarrassing yourself, you quickly send him the photo of yourself and choose to be bold for once.

The familiar swoosh sounds as your photo delivers and you lock your phone before crawling out of bed to get a shower. You’re barely through your bedroom door when your phone pings in your hand.

James: Why the fuck did I go to work today?

Laughing, you type your reply back.

You: Because it’s your job and there are buildings on fire?

You take two steps and he’s replied already.

James: Let ‘em burn

Bucky smells the smoke before he sees it, the billowing clouds hidden by familiar high rise office buildings, the ones he drives past to and from work every day.

The truck turns down your street but Bucky hardly notices; he can hear his heart beating in his ears and he’s dropping curse word after curse word, his phone playing your voicemail for the fourth time in two minutes. Three blue texts of increasing urgency sit unread on his screen and it takes everything he has to not launch it out the window.

You’ve been a text away all morning, why now have you taken a fucking sabbatical from your phone?

“Are you sure she’s home today?” Steve asks, interrupting Bucky’s spiralling thoughts.

“It’s her day off and she’s been texting me all mornin’. Y/n’s in that building, Steve!”

The calmness of Steve’s tone reminds everyone why he’s their Captain, “Well I’m sure she’s safe, Buck. She’s bright, she’ll have gotten out by now.”

Stomach churning, Bucky gulps his nerves down. He glances at Nat when she pats his shoulder before turning back to see Sam nod, his eyes silently telling Bucky to pull it together, that now is not the time to lose it.

‘Pullin’ up!” Clint calls and the truck rolls to a stop, parking just behind Chief Fury’s car, who is already taking command of the scene and ordering around the first and only other squad to have arrived yet.

The world is a blur as Bucky glides through the scattered crowd to reach Fury, his words tumbling out of his mouth before he’s even within hearing range.

“Take a breath. What is it?” Fury says.

“I- I think my- this is my- I live here and-“

“I said take a breath, Barnes.” The chief interrupts him, placing a hand on Bucky’s shoulder to ground him. He’s never seen Bucky like this before, not since… not since the fire that haunts his dreams.

“Chief, this is my place.” The brunette speaks clearly now. “I think my girl is in there.”

“Okay.” Fury nods and squeezes Bucky’s shoulder reassuringly. “Search the crowds, see if she’s with any of the other residents. And keep me updated!” He calls after Bucky who’s already rushing to the clusters of people across the road.

Face after face flashes by but none of them bare the eyes of the girl he’d give his life for. The weight in his chest grows heavier and heavier as he runs out of people to check and finds himself at the fire exit of the building’s main staircase where the others have already headed inside.

“She’s not here, Sam!” Bucky shouts at his crewmate who’s guiding a few stragglers out the exit.

“It’s okay, there’s still people evacuating, she’ll get out. Just help me for a sec, Nat said she heard kids coming through!”

Bucky turns to the dwindling stream of people stumbling out the fire exit; he takes a breathe and scans the residents passing by, asking if anyone’s seen you but it’s like talking to a brick wall. Everyone is too consumed by their own worries to care about a girl they don’t know.

He goes to head back to Fury when he recognises the woman who lives across the hall from you, her two little girls clutching onto her for dear life as they stagger through the doors.

“Cassie! Hey, Cassie!” He bellows over the commotion, running to take her eldest daughter off her hands and usher them to the medics.

“Oh my god, Bucky!” She sighs in relief at the friendly face. “Thank goodness, it’s- it’s getting really b-bad in there.” She says, spluttering through her words while Sam stands at her side.

“Yeah I know, look, have you seen Y/n? I can’t find her.”

“Yeah she helped me carry the girls down!”

Bucky’s eyes widen, head snapping behind him to search for any sign of her. “Then where is she?”

“Well we reached the doors and she handed me Maya and said she had to go back for something and ran off.” His heart drops. “I’m sorry, Bucky, I didn’t get chance to tell her not to go.”

Sheer terror controls his body and he’s storming over to Fury before she’s finished her apology, not willing to waste any more time to get his girl. Sam thanks Cassie and trails after him till they’re in front of the Chief.

“Fury, Y/n’s still in there. Let me get her, please!”

“Okay, Sam go with him. You’ve got five minutes before I pull my men out of there, this thing’s gonna blow soon.”

“Yes, sir.” They both call as they pull their masks on while they run. Bucky swears, he’s never put his kit on so quickly in his life, but the smoke pouring out the fire exit doors is growing thicker and thicker by the second, and you’re in the middle of it.

2:38 PM

The show you’re watching has long since been forgotten, your mind wandering to the dreams your neighbour is so keen to reenact. Bucky’s promise to make up for his absence ignites the same fire you felt last night. That, and every other night you’ve had your fingers knuckle deep in your pussy thinking of him.

You’re reminded of one specific dream - the one you had the night he was sent home from work - where you’d broken into his apartment for ice cream; picturing his place next door has you sat upright, suddenly remembering that Alpine is probably sat in his apartment waiting for him to come home. That poor cat won’t have seen him since you invited him over last night.

Hoping she doesn’t resent you for stealing Bucky for the night, you grab his spare key from your side table and rush to check on the little white ball of fur. The familiar scent swarms you as you step inside his apartment, quickly heading to the kitchen to find Alpine.

You take a photo of Bucky’s kitchen, complete with Alpine’s little head popping out from above the fridge, and send it to him.

You: Really shouldn’t have given me a spare key, Barnes

James: Don’t even think about eating my donuts

Sure enough, a box of donuts sits on his counter top and it makes you laugh that the only thing that’s worried him about you letting yourself in, is that you’ll steal his food. God, he’s perfect.

You: You’re a firefighter, not a cop!

James: Didn’t know the donut police was out, my bad

You giggle before hearing the pitter patter of paws jumping from the fridge to the kitchen island wear she snuggles up to your torso and purrs.

“Hey, girl. Sorry for stealing James for the night.”

Alpine meows beneath your light scratches and you grin, “I’ll take that as a sign of forgiveness, Alps.”

Her cuteness has you getting your camera out to take a photo of the two of you, cuddled up together on the island.

You: Cute security guard you got here

Unbeknownst to you, Bucky’s heart is melting in the middle of the firehouse common room, so much so that he doesn’t even bother with a jokey reply.

James: My girls ❤️

Unbeknownst to Bucky, your heart is melting in the middle of his goddamn kitchen, so much so that Alpine might need to call 911.

James: Fuck I can’t wait to come home to you

You blush like crazy at the second text.

You: You do have some making up to do, Barnes

James: Yes, Ma’am!

You: Oh, and also, you might wanna pick up some more donuts on the way home ;)

You send before stretching to grab one from the box, quickly taking a photo of you biting into one and sending that too.

James: Knew I shouldn’t have given you that key

You’ve done this before, you know what you’re doing. You’ve done this before, you know what you’re doing. You’ve done this before, you know-

“Shut up, man! You’re wastin’ your breath.” Sam shouts.

“What?”

“Quit your ramblin’ we got work to do!”

Not realising he’d been talking out loud, Bucky frowns beneath the polycarbonate of his mask, a movement Sam has no chance of seeing in their current environment.

Air thick with smoke, the pair race through the plumes as fast as their legs will carry them; you’re up there, they both know it, and there’s no time to waste.

The ring of the fire alarm has long since faded by the time Bucky bursts through the door of the fourth floor, Sam close on his tail. If they thought the stairwell was bad, this corridor is hell on earth. Visibility is a distant memory in here, smoke so heavy and black that their flashlights reflect straight back at them. The only sign that they’re actually moving is the distant, faint orange glow growing stronger with each step and the heat crawling further beneath their gear.

“Fucking Garvey.” He grumbles, realising the broken sprinklers are the cause of this state.

Bucky turns behind him to face Sam. “You clear this room, I’ll do Y/n’s!”

“On it!”

The pair split up as Sam kicks down one door and Bucky heads to yours, only a few feet further ahead. Turning his back to the door, he lifts his right knee and fires his boot backward, successfully cracking it open for him to push inside.

The smoke isn’t so bad in here and Bucky gets to work quickly, jogging over to your kitchen when he doesn’t see you at the living area.

“Y/n, call out!” Bucky bellows, his mask slightly muffling his words. You don’t answer, so Bucky starts slamming open any and all doors in the apartment in the hope that you just can’t hear him.

“Y/n! Where are you?” Your bathroom is empty and he moves to your bedroom. “Call out, Y/n!”

No answer. Goddamn it, sweets.

Panic rises in his chest when he sees your empty bowl of cereal on the coffee table, a show still playing on the TV.

Bucky tries his luck shouting once more, “Firefighter, call out!”

The only sound to respond is the billowing flames down the hall, wood crackling beneath the heat.

“Please, baby, where are you?” He knows he’s talking to himself at this point and it terrifies him. Biting back a strangled yell, Bucky clenches his eyes shut in attempt to ground himself.

When he opens them, he starts scanning the room for any sign of where you’ve gone. The bowl of cereal, your missing slippers, keys on your side table, no phone anywhere, lamps still-

Wait.

The keys. There’s one missing. His spare.

It dawns on him then, and his heart drops, knowing exactly where you are.

Alpine. You went back for Alpine.

4:29PM

Your blood runs cold when you’re woken by thudding at your door, a muffled cry of your name seeping through its cracks. With a racing heart, you toss your blanket off your sweat-ridden body and rush to your feet, mind trailing behind you while you run to the door.

“Just a sec!” You call out, desperately trying to piece together what’s happening as you approach the door. You slide the lock free, swing the door open and frown.

It’s Cassie, the young mom who lives in the apartment opposite with her two little girls; her head is turned over her shoulder and she’s shouting. You follow her line of sight to find who you guess to be her eldest daughter, Grace, peering through their front door - you can’t tell for sure, you’re still waking up and things are a little foggy. Very foggy, actually.

Having babysat for Cassie a few times, you panic that you’ve forgotten you’re doing so today. “Hey, Cass-“

“Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

“What?” You murmur, sleep still clutching onto you for dear life, and your frown deepens.

“Are you okay? Please- I-“

“Yes, Cassie, I’m fine.” You interrupt her and place your hands on her upper arms, trying to ground her. “What’s going on?”

“There’s a fire!” She points down the corridor and your attention follows. “I don’t know when it started, I- I was in the bathroom with Maya- I don’t know! I just- there was smoke coming in and- and…”

The confusion racking your brain turns to panic while a coldness soaks your body from head to toe, fear settling into every inch of you. Fire. Smoke. Heat. Everything clicks like a series of switches. The fog you thought was remnants of sleep is actually thick grey smoke - that’s why you couldn’t tell which daughter it was. In fact, that’s why Cassie was screaming, she was trying to get Grace back inside. Raising a hand to your forehead, you swipe beaded droplets of sweat off your brow and recall how warm the door’s lock and handle felt beneath your fingers.

“… hitting the fire alarm but it’s not working so the sprinklers won’t come on and-“

“Okay, hey, it’s okay!” You comfort the frantic mother and scan the hallway as you gradually come back to the present.

“Have you tried the fire alarm?”

“Yes! Yes! I tried but it’s broken, it won’t start!”

“Fuck,” You whisper, mentally damning Mr Garvey for his shit-ass death trap of a building.

Cassie starts coughing heavily so you reach to her top and lift the collar till the cloth covers her nose and mouth. With consciousness finally returning fully, you close your door behind you and guide Cassie back to her apartment.

Inside, her daughters sit crammed into the corner of the kitchen, clutching onto each other tightly. You hash a plan out with Cassie before sending her to get cloths and soak them in cold water for you all to put over your faces. The smoke in her apartment isn’t too bad, but you’ll need them for when you leave.

You jog over to the window and look out just in time to catch Chief Fury jumping out of his car, barking orders down a radio, and scanning the scene. Relieved that someone’s already called for 911, a sigh of relief tumbles from your lips and your eyes close briefly. Smoke scratches at the back of your throat, sparking a heavy coughing fit that leaves you breathless; when you realise you’re not the only one coughing, you turn back to the girls who are still sat in the kitchen.

“Hey, girls, come here!” You call, rushing back to the kitchen to guide them to the window where you pick Maya up and place her on your hip so she can see outside. “See that man there?” You point to Chief Fury, “He works with Bucky. They’re gonna stop the fire for us and make sure we get out safe.”

There’s little time for the girls to celebrate before Cassie returns with wet tea towels and jumpers. Together, you get them wrapped up and explain what’s about to happen; unsure as to what might be happening outside, you tell them to keep their eyes closed and their tea towels over their mouths and nose until their mom says otherwise.

With Grace on your back, you turn to Cassie with a reassuring smile. “It’s not far to the stairwell, they’ll be okay, I promise.”

She nods and adjusts Maya on her hip before pressing loving kisses to the girl’s heads. Using Bucky’s henley to cover the now hot metal door handle, you push it down and open the door for your neighbour to walk through.

The hallway is already darker and hotter than just minutes ago, the billowing black smoke rushing to your eyes and making them burn. Aside from the faint orange glow to your left, there’s little visibility, but you know where to go. You hike Grace up your back further and step out behind Cassie, tea towel clamped tightly over your mouth.

“Nearly there!” You bellow, voice barely breaking past your masked mouth. Come on, come on, come on… you whisper to yourself as your feet carry you step by step closer to safety. Finally, you reach the doors to the stairwell and nearly crash into the back of Cassie since you can hardly see her.

Carrying the girls, the pair of you slip through the door and hurry down the stairs. You’re 4 stories up so you count each floor as you go, keeping track of where you are. Turns out, the alarms and sprinklers are working on every floor but your own. Fuck you, Mr Garvey.

“Y/n! Wait! Y/n!” Grace calls from behind you and you rake our neck to look at her, realising then why she’s trying to stop you. “I dropped my towel!”

Without thinking twice, you tear yours from your face and press it to her mouth knowing there’s no time to be searching for hers. You keep going and catch up to Cassie before she even reaches the first floor. As your throat starts stinging again and your thighs begin to burn, you remind yourself that it’s not long until you’re outside in smoke free air.

“One more floor!”

“Yep!”

Being so close to the exit has you thinking ahead, thinking about seeing Bucky and running into his arms, thinking about how worried he’ll have been for his girls, thinking about how relieved Cassie will be to-

Wait.

Bucky’s girls. There’s two of you.

It dawns on you then and your heart drops, knowing you can’t leave yet.

Alpine. You need to go back for Alpine.

Each stride closer to Bucky’s apartment turns the red flames to orange and the orange flames to yellow. Heat radiates from the apartment opposite his as flames etch their way up and out of the front door; assessing the pattern of the fire, Bucky calculates how much time they have almost as fast as he breaks down his own door.

“Y/n! Where are you!?” He bellows from the constraints of his mask, blue eyes scanning every inch of his smoke filled home for the one thing he can’t live without.

“Kitchen!”

Without even registering what you’ve said, Bucky is running to the source of your voice, gear clanging on his back as he moves.

Thick smoke swirls around him on his way, clearing enough for him to just make out your silhouette flailing away.

“Doll!” Bucky shouts, panic rising in his chest at your frantic movements. “Y/n, call out! Are you okay?”

“I’m here! Im okay!” He hears.

Finally reaching you, his hands reach for your upper arms like iron to a magnet. “Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine, James, it’s Alpine,” You’re pointing up to fridge, pausing to cough into your arm before continuing, “she’s not coming down!”

“What?” If you could hear the incredulous tone Bucky uses over the roaring fire, you show no signs of it. He can’t help but gawk at you in disbelief; you were seconds away from escaping a roaring blaze and you’re more focused on a damn cat? Do you even realise what’s happening?

“James, help me get her down!”

Your urgent order has the firefighter shaking his head free of thoughts that are better kept for later. The clock is ticking and the fire is spreading faster each second, so he jumps into action. Clambering up onto the kitchen counter, Bucky swipes his hand over the top of the fridge until the familiar white fur of his cat greets his palm.

“That’s it,” Bucky coaxes Alpine out from her hiding spot. Clearly unable to identify her owner beneath his gear, she leaps down into the safety of your arms and receives doting kisses in masse.

Bucky climbs down. “Okay. Let’s go.”

The short and sharp order has you scurrying to the front door where the heat creeps up your bare legs with haste. Over your shoulder, you hear the electronic beeps of your neighbour’s radio intermittently while he talks to Chief Fury.

A hand on your shoulder brings you to a halt. “You’ve got two minutes, Barnes.” The chief’s voice is crackling much like the fire behind the door.

“Yes, sir.” Bucky replies before turning to you, “Wait here.”

Following his orders, you wait with increasing nerve as Bucky peers behind his front door to check on the fire. For the first time today, he’s grateful the fire is loud enough to drown out his cursing of the situation; the last thing he wants is to scare you, but the flames have encompassed the door of the apartment opposite and have climbed to the ceiling of the hallway. Escaping now means baring the blaring heat with no protection for his girl to wear.

Pushing the door shut, he turns back to you. “We have to go through, it’s the safest way.”

“You want us to walk through fire? Are you serious?” The light quiver of your chin tells Bucky you’re more scared than you care to let on. “What about the windows? Can’t we-“

“No, doll. There’s not enough time to get the truck round this side of the building. I’d give you my mask but we have don’t have time. We have go this way.”

You’re shaking your head as he speaks, nerves racking your body like a virus and you subconsciously clutch Alpine tighter to your chest for comfort. Bucky steps closer to you with reassuring eyes, hoping the closer distance will let you see him past the polycarbonate.

“Hey, you trusted me when we got stuck in the lift and we got out without a scratch. I’m asking you to trust me again, sweets. Let me get you out of here, please?”

Battling through his mask, the desperation laced beneath his tone is enough to turn your shaking head into a nod. From that point on, you’re a passenger in your own body.

Instructions to keep your face covered, to hand over Alpine despite her meows in contest and that under no circumstances should you ever let go of Bucky’s hand. Numerous checks that you understand what he’s saying, followed my numerous recitals of his rules right back at him.

There’s no way of knowing how you managed to remember those rules, let alone abide by them, when your mind has been on autopilot for the last few minutes.

You know it’s time to go when you feel two squeezes on your right hand: Bucky’s signal. What follows is a blur of black and orange, hot and cold. Bucky covers you from the fire and leads you out to the stairwell where he tucks you into his side. You run down each flight of stairs until you burst into the chaos outside.

Bucky rips his mask and helmet off and shouts for a medic, his arm never leaving your shoulders as though there’s still a fire he needs to protect you from.

A paramedic who Bucky called ‘Pepper’ rushes over and reaches to hold you herself before realising she’ll need to fight Bucky to do so. Knowing that’s a battle not worth fighting, she guides you both to the back of an ambulance across the road.

On your way, a familiar face breaks through the hustle and bustle with relief etched across his features. Steve pats your shoulder in support when Bucky speaks up.

“Steve, can I-“

“Go be with her, Buck.” He says firmly like it’s obvious, earning a single, though grateful, nod in return.

For the past twenty minutes, you’ve watched the world fly past you; left and right, high and low, there’s something happening everywhere as the Fire Department work to put out the blaze and move people to safety. With the sun dipping behind the city skyline, the damage to Mr Garvey’s building fades away as night draws in. He’s yet to make an appearance, Mr Garvey, though you doubt he’s jumping at the opportunity to face his tenants, let alone the burly firefighters that litter the lawn.

It’s fair to say the crew are pissed. Sure, a lazy landlord running a beat-up, hazardous complex would rile them up any day of the week - but when that complex is home to ‘two of their own’ as Nat put it? Well, the only thing holding them back is Chief Fury’s stern warning to do things by the book. Though he did order a drive by for Mr Garvey once they figure out where he lives.

While seemingly everyone in sight is busy helping out, you sit perched on the back steps of an ambulance, accompanied by a sleepy Alpine and a grumpy Bucky. He’s long since forgone the fire jacket, clad just in a navy t-shirt and suspenders holding up his fire pants.

The rhythmic hum of the oxygen machine behind you is driving you crazy, but a certain firefighter isn’t keen on you taking your mask off just yet. You wonder if he’ll ever let you take it off.

A clanging in the distance awakens Alpine enough for her to relocate; the soft white cat clambers into your lap and curls up before going straight back to sleep. Unfortunately for you, the damn oxygen mask is getting in the way of everything, and you can’t see past it to watch Alpine.

“What are you doing?” Bucky asks, his tone just as flat as it’s been since you escaped the building, as you tug the plastic from your face.

“It’s annoying, Sarge. And fucking uncomfortable.“

Blue eyes barely glancing at you, your neighbour’s face remains stoic and cold. He finds you calling him ‘Sarge’ pretty damn annoying, even if his dick thinks otherwise; ever since you clocked on to people addressing him by his title, you’ve being teasing him, but the name has slowly turned sour on your lips the longer he acts so coldly toward you.

“It’s not meant to feel like a spa treatment, put it back on.”

You roll your eyes, not that he’d notice. “I don’t even need it anymore!” You’re sick of being treated like a child by the man who was tongue deep in your cunt just under 24 hours ago.

For the first time in a while, he finally tears his gaze from the lawn down to your defeated state and uncrosses his arms. As he leans closer, you think for a moment that he’s finally going to touch you, to hold you and tell you everything’s okay. Instead, he reaches over you and snatches the mask from your side, just to hold it up to your face.

“Banner said you do, so you’re wearing it, okay?” He all but spits. You hold his stony glare and pray that your lip won’t tremor like it always does when you’re upset. The coldness of his stare saps the warmth from your chest, replacing it with a pit of indignation that’s growing with every passing moment.

“Why are you being like this, James?” The mellow tone you didn’t even know you could use slips by, a far cry from the cruelness of Bucky’s, and you watch as he straightens up and turns away. “You- you can’t even look at me! You won’t touch me, you order me around like I’m-“

He scoffs. He literally scoffs in your face.

“Are you serious? You’re acting like a child, James.”

“Oh, and you’re not?!” His attention is back on you now and you flinch at the sudden change in dynamic.

“What the fuck does that-“

“Hey, guys!”

Steve appears from behind the ambulance door and leans down to hug you. Your eyes are stuck on Bucky, who’s resorted to turning his back to you as if that’s going to fix this.

“How are you feeling, Y/n?” The captain asks, a hand lingering comfortingly on your shoulder as you fight to pull your eyes away from your neighbour.

“Uhh yeah,” You shake your head slightly and look up at Steve with a smile, “yeah I’m feeling better, thank you.”

Though he chooses not to comment on it, he sees how your smile doesn’t reach your eyes. “That’s great, I’m real glad you’re alright, Y/n. You want me to switch the oxygen off if you’re not needing it anymore?”

In the corner of your eye, Bucky’s back clenches taut and he stills. The conflict between sticking up for yourself and giving in to Bucky plays out like a musical in your mind, each side tugging you to and from at a rate of knots. But the tension between you and the firefighter isn’t enough for you to lose yourself; deep down, you know you’ve done nothing wrong and you certainly don’t owe Bucky anything after the way he’s treated you.

You look up at Steve with a confidence that both you and Bucky are surprised by. “That would be great, thanks, Cap.”

With a quick, questioning glance at the brooding firefighter in the corner, Steve turns off the machine and steps back after a quick pat on Alpine’s head.

“Do you mind if I steal Buck for a minute?” Steve asks.

“Go for it.”

After a grateful smile, Steve grabs his best friend’s arm and drags him away, leaving you with a frown and a sleeping cat.

Their footsteps fade away as they walk out of ear shot and you’re forced to try your hand at lip reading. It doesn’t take long before you realise there’s no chance in hell you’re going to figure out what Steve is saying, quite sternly, might you add.

“Cut her some slack, Buck. She was trying to do the right thing.”

The brunette scoffs, “She was trying to get herself killed.”

“Look me in the eye and tell me you wouldn’t have done the same damn thing.”

“It’s different,” Bucky grumbles, shaking his head.

“Is it?”

“I’m a firefighter, Steve! I know what to do in that situation.”

Armed with a raised brow, the captain cocks his head slightly. “So you’re telling me if you had no training, no protection, you wouldn’t run into a burning building to save her?”

For a moment, Steve thinks he’s gotten through to his best friend, and that maybe, Bucky’s finally seeing some sense. But then Bucky reminds him exactly why he had to pull him over for a “chat” in the first place.

“She went back for Alps.”

“Have you thought that maybe she went back for you!?” Steves voice raises as his tone sharpens and Bucky’s confused ‘what?’ only fuels the fire burning in his chest.

“She knows how much you love that cat. Seems to me like she saved Alpine for you, Buck.”

Having learnt to not get ahead of himself, Steve waits for yet another snarky remark. Instead, he watches his friend look over his shoulder to your place in the back of the ambulance. Banner is in the process of taking your blood pressure while Nat makes you and Pepper laugh by playing with Alpine; the sight has a warmth growing in Bucky’s chest, and he wishes more than anything that Steve hadn’t dragged him away so far so he could hear your laughter.

As though you can feel his gaze, you lift your head and lock eyes with your neighbour, unknowingly causing his breath to catch at the back of his throat. And then you smile at him, tired and meek but beautiful nonetheless, and it nearly has him on his knees, begging for forgiveness for treating you so cruelly.

Yet he remains cold and stoic, his face contorting to one even more scorning than before. Because you were minutes away from not making it out of there, and now you’re laughing with his crew mates like he didn’t nearly lose you.

The infamous Tony Stark left Firehouse 107 years ago, yet you’ve heard his name more than you could count. He’s practically an urban legend to you at this point; even now as you scurry around the kitchen of one of his many properties that his own wife Pepper lent yoy, you’re not 100% certain he actually exists.

“Girl, I can’t believe you get to live here!” Sophie, your manager, rounds the corner of the hallway just as you glance over your shoulder.

“Yeah having my apartment burn down was totally worth it.”

You don’t mean for your tone to be a sharp as it is, nor as hostile, but you can’t help it. The aftermath of today’s events has left a sour taste in your mouth, but it’s the cold shoulder from Bucky that’s left you feeling hollow.

Sophie’s face drops, features twisting into one of regret and pity. You both fight over each other to apologise first and the heavy weight on your shoulders lifts lightly when you both laugh a little.

“That was a shitty thing to say, I’m sorry.” She comes over and pulls you into a hug.

“No, I shouldn’t have been a bitch about it, Soph.” You murmur into her shoulder, grateful for the comforting embrace after receiving nothing from the one person you’ve needed it from the most.

Pulling back, Sophie rests her hands on your shoulders. “I think you get a pass for today, hun. Are you sure you don’t want me to stay with you tonight?”

You immediately shake your head. “Absolutely not. You’ve got a big day tomorrow and you need your beauty sleep.”

A few weeks ago, Sophie was nominated for the local small-business owners award and the prize giving is tomorrow. The last thing you need is to feel guilty for keeping her from such a momentous event.

“Only if you’re sure, I can-“

“Nope. You’re going, that’s final.” You cut her off with a reassuring smile and place your own hands on her shoulders to steer her to the door. “Like you said, this place is a dream. I think i’ll manage just fine!”

After a warm goodbye and another attempt to change your mind (and even more assurance that you’d survive the night alone), your boss heads out.

It’s quiet now; Stark’s swanky apartment is so high up that you can barely hear the hustle and bustle of the street below, a stark contrast (pun intended) to the paper thin walls of your old apartment.

Old apartment. Only been here 4 hours and you’re already along it the old apartment.

You turn on your heel and face your new home for the next few weeks, still taken aback by the shininess of everything. The plush ivory couch is spotless, the shelves of the fridge don’t bear a single crumb, you even had to peel the protective film off the damn shower head earlier. Everything is perfect. Everything should be perfect.

But it’s not. Not without him.

You’d take back the broken elevator and shitty water pressure in a heartbeat if it meant you got Bucky back too. Instead, you’re left with this incredible apartment and no one to share it with, not even Alpine.

Without noticing it, enough time passes by while you stare at the untouched home before you that it’s now dark enough for lamps to be turned on. You stumble around in the darkness for any switches you can find, eventually finding and turning on a lamp that you’re sure costs more than your whole ‘old apartment’.

One after the other, you light up the apartment enough to find your way to the fridge where you scour through the groceries Sophie collected for you, desperate for a drink to numb the pain.

Smiling weakly at the cakes she must’ve snuck in, a knock at the front door snatches your attention.

You hurry to the door, though you underestimate how long it takes to cross the width of the apartment, and prepare to remind your excessively concerned friend that you’ll be perfectly fine on your own for the night.

“Sophie,” You begin, swinging the door open with a sigh, “I’m starting to feel insulted at how- oh…“ oh. oh.

“Hey,” Bucky says, a hand stretched behind him to rub the back of his neck. His eyes are tired and lifeless, but at least they’re lacking the venom they possessed just hours ago.

“Bucky, what are you doing here?”

Your questions takes him aback, like he never once considered you wouldn’t blindly open your new home to him, offer him a beer and give him free rein of the tv. Of course, he didn’t expect that, but he didn’t expect this either.

“I’m ‘Bucky’ now?”

Your eyes drop to the floor. “James. I’m sorry, I meant James.”

The timid nature of your response has the firefighter cursing himself for trying to be funny. Instead, he made you feel like you have to please him, to call him James just because he said so.

“No, it’s-“ Bucky takes a breath trying to settle the rising frustration at how difficult it is for you two to talk normally when it used to come to you like breathing. “I didn’t mean to sound like that. I came to see how you’re doing?”

The softness of his voice has your head lifting, eyes meeting his to search for the warmth that you yearn for so dearly.

“I’m okay. Are you?”

“Can I come in?” Bucky asks, dodging your question like a hitter ducking from the first baseman’s glove.

You reply by stepping to the side, allowing your neighbour to slip past you.

“Nice place.”

‘Nice place’, Buck? Really? That’s what you’re gonna open with?

“Thanks.”

‘Thanks’, Y/n? Really? What, did you build it yourself or something?

The awkwardness between you is unsettling in itself and you have to physically shake your head to try and rid yourself of the feeling.

The firefighter’s eyes fall to your body and his brows draw closer. You look down at yourself and back at Bucky’s confused face when you put two and two together.

“They’re Sophie’s,” You run the hem of your- her -shirt between your thumb and forefinger, “she dropped them off with some other stuff to get me through the next couple days.”

Getting nothing in response, you walk to the kitchen where you resume your search for a drink. Your boss bought pretty much everything at the grocery store, but unfortunately for you, she must have skipped the alcohol aisle. You settle for a glass of water, a far cry from the kind of drink you need to get you through this interaction, but it’ll have to do.

“Do you want a drink?” You call over your shoulder as you pour yourself a glass. If it weren’t for his reflection in the tall, remarkably clean windows, you’d never even know there was someone in the room.

“The options are water or water?”

Receiving nothing but silence yet again, you pour a second glass. “Water it is.” The dead silence burns as you return the water jug to the fridge where your eyes fall upon the cakes Sophie brought. “Oh! And cakes from the café too. Soph got the cookies you really like, would you like one?”

Silence.

“I’ll take that as a-“

“What were you thinking?”

You freeze, part way through shutting the fridge door, and while you know exactly what he said, his words echoing through your mind, you ask him to repeat himself.

“I’m sorry?”

“What were you thinking, Y/n? Going back for Alpine?!” His words flow out faster than he can pronounce them, the damn holding back his emotions finally collapses.

You slam the door shut, glass bottles rattling away as you speak, “I couldn’t leave when I knew she was trapped and there was a fire across the hall!”

Bucky throws his hands in the air. “Do you not trust us to do our jobs, Y/n?” He yells. “It’s what we do! We would’ve gotten her out- I would’ve gotten her out!”

“Put yourself in my shoes, James, there was a fire and I panicked and I did what I felt was right. If that meant not waiting for you then that’s what I was gonna do.”

You hadn’t even realised you’ve been stepping toward your neighbour, closing the distance between you till only a few feet separates you. Bucky’s eyes are frantic, yours are cold as steel and the air between you is so charged that your hands are shaking; with a clenched jaw, you try to steady your breathing while Bucky steps back to pace across the room with his hands raking through his hair.

“I can’t-“ His hands drop to the base of his neck where he needs the skin in his fists. “I can’t believe you were stupid enough to run back into a burning building for a cat that’s not even yours!”

You son of a bitch.

“That’s not fair, I love her too!” You cry, only to flinch when Bucky turns back to you with tears in his eyes.

“Well, I love you!!” He bellows, voice breaking at the end. “Who looks after you, huh?! Who comes to save you when you get trapped?”

You mumble a ‘what?’ but you’re drowned out by his words and the weight they possess.

“How are you not seein’ this, doll? This isn’t about Alps, it’s about you.” You frown, gaze jumping between those captivating blue eyes in disarray. “It’s about you putting yourself in danger to save something that is not your responsibility.”

“But I-“

“Don’t.” Bucky warns. “Whether you feel inclined to or not, you are not responsible for keeping her safe, I am. And that- fuck- that means you stayed in a fire to do something that’s my job. I should be the only one who needs to go into danger to protect her but I wasn’t there so you did it.”

“James-“

“You could’ve gotten yourself killed over something that’s my fault-

“James!-“

“It’s my fault you ended up in there, doll, so if you got hurt then that-“

You grab his face in your hands and press your lips to his, grounding him with your touch. The rooms spins around you as you work to slow his descent down a rabbit hole of guilt, lips moving against his even though his remain still. If your eyes were open, you’re sure you’d find his hands still in the air, but you don’t pay any mind to that; you’re only focus is on showing him you love him too, that you’re safe and he doesn’t need to blame himself for a damn thing.

You don’t know how long it takes, but at some point along the line, Bucky’s arms wrap around your waist, pinning you to his chest while he finally kisses you back.

The salty taste of shared tears greet your tongue as your lips dance against his. Your hands travel from his cheeks to his hair, tugging at his roots till his lips part in a gasp. You take the chance to tease your muscle against his, moaning at the feeling.

“I’m sorry, baby, I’m so sorry,” You breathe between kisses, “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Bucky shakes his head as much as you’ll let him with your tongue still tangled with his.

“No, it’s my fault, I should’ve been there.”

You pull back with tearful eyes. “You couldn’t have known.”

“Not the fire.” He murmurs, eyes clenching shut as he tugs one of your hands to his mouth, presses a doting kiss to your palm. “For everything after it. I just- I couldn’t understand why you did it, doll. And that’s not an excuse, I don’t mean it like that- there’s no excuse for it but I was so scared and confused and-“

“Angry that I went back.” You finish his sentence for him, as painful as it is to admit. “I know, honey, I know I scared you, I’m sorry.”

“No. Don’t apologise, you did nothing wrong, I need you to know that.” Bucky looks into your eyes with such intensity that you feel it in your chest. When he clenches his eyes shut and he somehow holds you even tighter than before, you brace for the question you know is coming. “But why, darling? Why would you go back? I don’t understand.”

He’s almost sobbing now, forehead rattling against yours as he fights back the tears he’s been withholding all day.

But you didn’t know why, truly. All day you’ve tried to figure out what happened to you, what possessed you to do what you did. But then Bucky, your James, turned up on your doorstep 5 minutes ago and it all made sense.

“Because I love you, too.”

His eyes snap open and a look of what you can only describe as disbelief. “Fuck, you do?”

You breathe a laugh, “More than anything.”

Before you know it, his lips are back on yours and he’s kissing you with a passion you’ve never felt before. It’s different this time, this kiss, it’s like you’ve submitted yourselves to the love you have for one another and everything feels so different but so so good.

But that feeling is stripped from you like a rug being swept from beneath your feet because he’s pulling back with conflict laced beneath his gaze. “That’s why you went back?”

You nod sheepishly, tears trailing down your cheeks.

“You’re killing me, you know that?” The firefighter says, words coming out strained like he’s still holding back.

“I didn’t mean to, James,” You bundle up his t-shirt in your firsts, “I’m sorry.”

Bucky cradles your head to his chest, holding you so close to him that his heart beat reverberates into your chest. He presses a kiss to the top of your head while you tighten your hold around his waist. “I know you didn’t, doll.”

You can feel his chest tightening each time he tries to continue and gently urge him to continue. “But…?”

Bucky’s small laugh is muffled by your hair and he pulls back slightly to hold your face in his hands.

“But,” He smiles softly, eyes baring into yours, “I need you to find a different way to love me. One that doesn’t have you running into burning buildings.”

You frown with your lip between your teeth. “What if I moved in with you and Alps? Then we wouldn’t have this problem!”

“You want to move in together?” Your neighbour is taken aback by the idea.

You go to nod proudly but it only takes a second for Bucky to snap back to reality and escape the clutches of your desperate attempt to change the subject.

“No, don’t answer that.” He warns. “That’s not what we’re discussing.”

“Well technically it is…”

“No it’s not. We’re not- I can’t-“

“You don’t wanna live with me?” You tilt your head to the side with a look like a scorned puppy.

Bucky’s quick to fall victim to your tricks yet again; he leans in and presses sweet kisses to your lips while replying. “Of course I want to live with you, I wanna do everything with you-“

“There we go then, problem solved!” You grin with a mischievous glint in your eye and watch as Bucky frowns in complete confusion.

“What? No! No, problem very much not solved!”

“I think it would-“

“Doll, I don’t give a damn what the living situation is - you can’t put yourself in danger for me.” His tone is leaving little to no room for argument. Little to no room…

“But-“

“No buts, Y/n.” Bucky stops you before you can work your magic on him again. “I love Alpine and i’d be sad if anything happened to her but i’d live. But you?” His voice cracks and he’s closing his eyes to hold back any more tears. “If I lost you I- I don’t think i’d be able to go on. You’re everything to me. I’d sacrifice the world to keep you safe and that means that you can’t go running into burning building or jumping in front of bullets- I don’t even want you drinking your coffee too quickly after I made it cause you might burn your tongue!”

You giggle and lean into his palm.

“You’re my priority, sweets. I need you safe and healthy, so I can’t have you being reckless like you were today. It’s you before everything, okay?”

You nod, and you mean it this time, though Bucky’s not convinced.

“See you’re nodding but I feel like you’re not getting it.”

With a laugh, you pat his toned chest and reach up on your toes to kiss him sweetly. “I get it, James. I’ll try not to do anything reckless going forward.” You pull back and look up at him cheekily. “Not even for your adorable pet cat who is probably tearing Steve’s apartment to shreds right now.”

Bucky’s face drops and he glares at you, though there’s a playful glint in it. Sliding his hand down your arm to catch yours before you try and return to the kitchen, he sobers up. “I need you to promise me, Y/n. Promise me you’ll never put yourself in danger for me.”

You look away as though you haven’t heard him and go to step back again and offer him an actual drink this time.

“Y/n…” He warns, tone low and gruff. “I asked you a question.”

“Technically, it was an order, not a ques-“

Bucky spins you around and pins you against the wall with your hands beside your head. If the look in his eye is anything to go by, you know you’ve successfully irked him. What can you say? After the day he’s put you through, a girl deserves a little fun.

“Quit playin’. I need you to promise me, please.” His tone is raw but firm, yet you continue to blur the line between teasing and down right psychological torture.

“And what if I don’t… sarge?”

Those blue eyes don’t stray from yours, nor does he flinch at your little attempt to claim dominance. You cock a brow at the firefighter with a growing smirk but it only takes one slight nudge of his knee between your thighs to have your confidence faltering.

Bucky leans down, nose ghosting past your ear and breath spilling down your neck. “M’not sure you’re understandin’ me, doll. I ain’t askin’.”

You don’t even think before replying, “Maybe you should.”

Bucky scoffs, “After the shit you pulled today?” He raises your hands above your head, still clamped in his tight grasp, “You’re hardly in a position to tell me what I should or shouldn’t do, sweetheart.”

“And what do you think you should do?” You ask meekly.

“I think I should teach you a lesson.” Bucky’s lust blown eyes drop to your lips. “But seeing as you don’t listen to my words, maybe you’ll listen to your sarge’s cock instead, hm?”

A whimper escapes your lips before you can clamp them shut; his lips ghost over yours as he speaks and you find yourself fighting the urge to clash your lips against his.

“M’gonna fuck some sense into you, doll face. S’only fair after everything you put me through…” You let out a breathy sound when he traces his lips down your jawline to your pulse point, eyes fluttering shut.

“James…”

You’re met with silence, but the hand replacing his lips that works to tilt your face to meet his has your eyes snapping open once more.

“Not ‘James’.”

Your frown. “Jamie?”

Bucky chuckles and shakes his head. “You’re cute when you’re confused, but no. Not ‘Jamie’…” His hand squeezes your throat, leaving you clenching around nothing. “Sarge.”

Breathe catching in your throat, your body stills completely.

“What wrong, sweets? I thought you loved callin’ me sarge.” The longer you stay silent and the wider your eyes grow, Bucky worries he’s gone too far and his gaze softens. “We can stop if-“

“Don’t stop.” You rush out. “…Sarge.”

With a growl, Bucky’s eyes nearly roll to the back of his head. “On your knees.”

You slide down the narrow gap between your neighbour and the wall, reaching to unbuckle his belt as you do.

“Ah ah ah,” Bucky tuts, hands pulling yours free of his belt, “did I say you could touch me?”

You bite your lip and shake your head no, though a raise of his brow reminds you that you’re missing something. “No, sarge.”

The corner of his lips tugs into a smirk. “Good girl. Hands at your sides.”

Sweet Jesus.

Bucky unties his belt, closely followed by the button and zip of his pants and you think it might be the hottest thing you’ve ever seen. Turns out, it’s not just you. Your neighbour is fighting the urge to roll his hips into your face with the way you’re lookin’ up at him, eyes flicking back and forth between his and the way his hands are working to free his hard length. Gulping hard, you fingers flex and curl into fists at your sides as you fight the burning desire to touch him.

“You’re a needy little thing, aren’t you? I leave you for a few hours and you’re on your knees for me in minutes.”

“Please,” you beg, thighs clenching.

“You want my cock, doll? Yeah?”

You nod quickly, dragging your eyes away from his leaking cock head to his and pleading with your eyes.

“Fuck, you look so pretty like this.” Bucky hums. He cups your cheek, tracing his pointer finger down the side of your face while his thumb tugs on your bottom lip. He groans so softly at the sight that it’s nearly drowned out by the blood rushing through your ears. “Are you comfortable, sweets?” He asks with softer features.

You whisper a yes before taking his moment of tenderness to test the waters. Dipping your head, you catch his thumb between your lips, lightly sucking on it while your tongue swirls around the tip.

“Knew that mouth was good for somethin’.”

You hold his stare and playfully bite his thumb, a small act of defiance, one that proves to be a costly mistake. The firefighter draws his thumb from your mouth instantly, a smirk toting his lips as he looks at you with disappointment.

“Play nice,” He warns as though he’s scolding a puppy, “or I can go and deal with this myself.”

Your mewl has bucky chuckling to himself.

“You don’t want that, do you baby?”

“No.” Bucky raises an expectant brow. “No, sarge.”

“Good girl.”

He presses the soft, weeping head of his cock to your lips as a reward for your obedience, heart racing as fast as his dick is throbbing when your desperate tongue reaches out to steal a taste of his pre cum off your lips.

“Go ahead, doll. Suck the tip for me.”

You don’t need to be told twice; tongue dipping beneath his cock head, you draw him into your mouth and latch your lips around him tightly. The day fades into the back of your mind like a long lost memory when you close your eyes to savour the feeling of Bucky’s weight in your tongue.

Bucky, meanwhile, can’t hold back his grunts. It’s only the tip and he already thinks he’s seeing God, his head tipped back in pleasure.

“Oh that’s it, that’s it.” He moans.

Your innocent little hums travel down his shaft and straight to his balls. The burning pleasure nearly distracts him enough for him to miss your attempt to take more of him in your mouth. Before you can even register the firefighter drawing his cock free of your warm mouth, you feel it slap across your cheek. The shaft, slick with you spit and his arousal, creates and obscene sound, one that draws a whimper from your now empty mouth.

“What did I say to you, hmm?” A calloused hand grips your chin and tilts your head up. “Tell me.”

“Suck the tip for me.” You don’t miss how pathetic you sound, but you’re drunk on Bucky’s cock and you’d do anything to have him back between your lips at this point. His intense stare smothers any confidence you thought you hand and you wait patiently for his next move.

He shakes his head, unimpressed. “And here I thought you were gonna be good for me.”

“I will!” Gosh, what are you even saying? If you weren’t so intoxicated with him, you’d cringe at how desperate you sound, how desperate you look.

Struck once again by his throbbing length, you can’t help but release a slutty moan. Seriously, you could be mistaken for a pornstar if the neighbours can hear you. They can, but who gives a fuck when you’re staring at your sarge’s dick?

“Does it turn you on when I do that?” Bucky’s head dips lower, pouting condescendingly. “Or is it the thought of taking your sarge’s whole cock down your throat that got your drippin’ onto the floor?”

Bucky notes how your fingers flex at your sides before pressing flat against your soft thighs. The anticipation is clawing at you but you know better now than to take matter into your own hands, even when Bucky takes his shaft and presses the tip to your lips, his other hand holding the back of your head.

“Come on, don’t get all shy on me now. Open up for me, doll. Open up for sarge.”

It’s like he’s toying with you now so your eyebrows pinch together while you let your jaw fall open.

“It’s okay, babydoll. Just keep those sweet eyes on me, that’s it.”

His cock slips further down your throat and by the time you figure out the catch to his sudden grace, the hand holding his cock joins the other at the back of your head and he’s snapping his hips forward.

“There it is, keep lookin’ at me.” Bucky groans, his cock hitting the back of your throat with bruising force. “I wanna see those eyes while I fuck m’girl’s throat.”

His words really aren’t warning enough for what comes next. For stroke and stroke, Bucky ruts into your mouth like you’re his personal little fleshlight, a toy whose sole purpose is to take his cum. He pauses every now and then to give you just enough time to catch your breath before he’s forcing his cock back inside.

The firefighter rambles to himself, praises and grunts reaching your ears intermittently. After all, the sound of your gags are hard to hear past.

As the shock of Bucky’s sudden dominance passes, you lean into your new role with ease; sticking your tongue out to give him free reign, bobbing your head along with his thrusts, occasionally holding your head close to the base of his shaft for seconds at a time. Every trick you know, you use.

“Argh, just like that. Making your sa-arge feel so good, doll.” He stutters through his words when you keep swirling your tongue around him, but when he looks down again and is met with your glossy eyes looking right back at him, his cock fucking twitches. “Fuck, sweets, you’re gonna make me cum!”

You moan around him, enjoying the way his brows pull closer together and his mouth curves into an ‘o’ when you do.

“Would you like that, doll? To taste me?”

Muffled by his sex, murmur a yes down his length, bobbing your head faster.

“Oh yeah, God- you’re gonna look so damn hot swallowing my cum. Might even sh-shoot some over your pretty face, take a photo for next time i’m- fuck- on a night shift.”

The insinuation that Bucky would use that photo to jerk off at the firehouse drives you to work harder. To suck harder.

“Fuck fuck fuck oh baby don’t stop. Please don’t stop, i’m so close.”

The ache in your neck begs you to ease up, but the look in Bucky’s eyes has you relaxing your throat one last time and bringing your hands up to his toned ass.

Hoping your performance will make up for disobeying him, your hands hold him closer. Bucky’s cock delves that little bit deeper down your throat and it’s enough to tip him over the edge.

“I’m gonna cum oh my fuckkkk- fuck doll, I’m cumming. I’m cumming ohh-“

Thick ropes of his seed race down your throat and you swallow around him, welcoming the salty taste. Realising you’ve not taken a breathe since he let go, Bucky tries to pull back and let you breathe, but you dig your fingernails into his ass just enough to make him hiss: a warning that he shouldn’t dare pull out.

You ignore your lungs scream for air and nurse on his cock, milking every last drop of his cum. You have no idea how you manage to stay conscious but it isn’t until Bucky’s length is soft in your mouth that you pull off him.

“There you go. Breathe, baby.” Bucky encourages, tucking your hair behind your ear as you cough and splutter for a moment. When your breath finally catches up to you, your voice is raspy and coarse.

“I promise.”

Your neighbour looks at you incredulously, his mind working overtime to figure out what it is that you’re promising until eventually, it dawns on him.

The promise that started all this. The promise not to put yourself in danger for him.

“And you decided that before or after I fucked that pretty mouth? Hmm?” He asks, his thumb tracing your cheek bone gently.

“Before I was even on my knees…”

Breathing a ‘fuck’ beneath his breath, Bucky pounces; within seconds, you’re suspended in the air and being carried bridal style down the hallway, leaving a trails of giggles and squeals in your wake.

“Last one on the right.” You share between laughs, reading you neighbour’s mind before he even has chance to ask.

Kicking the door open, Bucky carries you to the bed and places you down gently, a far cry from the rough and heavy treatment you got in the living room. You watch in a haze as he kicks off his boots and socks before he’s back on top of you.

“If you knew you’d promise beforehand, why’d ya let me keep goin’?” Bucky asks, eyes searching your own.

A knowing smile tugs at your lips and you look up at him through your lashes. “Cause I wanted you to.”

Your reply takes Bucky aback, his features contorting into one of surprise before settling back into one of awe, all while his heads shakes in what you assume to be disbelief.

“And what do you want now?” He asks with the slightest raise of his brow, waiting in anticipation for your next move.

With a brief glance at his lips, one that sends his cock jumping, you lean up to Bucky’s ear.

“I want you to do what you promised me in that note you left this morning.”

Bucky laughs, “You remember that, huh?”

You nod into his neck and kiss your way to the base of his throat. “Been thinking about your promises all day, sarge. You makin’ up for ditchin’ me for work…”

Latching your lips around the skin of his neck, you suck until it begins to bruise.

“…How you’d fuck me in your henley…”

Your lips travel north, up the ridge of his stubble covered adam’s apple, tongue trailing a bold stripe up his skin. The sensation has Bucky tipping his head back in pleasure and groaning; hearing his reaction to you never fails to make your cunt pulse, but feeling the vibrations beneath your tongue makes your cunt throb. Settling just above the peak of his adam’s apple, you bruise the skin with your lips once more.

“…maybe remake some of my dreams…”

Goosebumps rise in the wake of your touch as you tease a hand under your neighbour’s shirt, from his half buckled belt line to the muscle ridged plane between his shoulder blades.

“…oh and you’d love them, sarge.” You goad, teasing your tongue up to his ear. “You always fuck me so good in them.”

“Tell me about ‘em.”

Pulling back ever so slightly, you find Bucky’s half lidded eyes to be black, his pupils so blown wide that you wonder how on earth he’s not being blinded by the light, as dimly lit as the room is anyway.

“Well this one time, I dreamt you picked me up from work.” You hum. “You’d just gone for one of your runs, and it was hot out, so you were only wearing your shorts.”

Bucky sits back on his heels, careful not to squash your legs, and brings his hands to the hem of his shirt. Slowly, teasingly, he draws the navy fabric higher and higher until he’s freed himself from its constraints. Your blatant ogling of his chiselled torso is cut short when he leans over you once more, tendrils of hair tumbling into your face.

“Then what?” he asks, searching your eyes as though they hold the answer.

“W-well you’d left something at the firehouse, and we had to go get it. It was somewhere in your office, but while I helped look for it, I knocked an award off the shelf and it smashed in two. You made me pay you back.”

Bucky’s brows draw closer, “Well that’s not the type of dream I thought y-“

“With my mouth,” you interrupt, “on your cock.”

Lip caught between his teeth, the firefighter ruts into you, and you realise just how hard he’s gotten despite cumming down your throat less than five minutes ago.

“Sounds familiar.” Bucky drawls, eyes dropping to your lips. The ones he is now all too familiar with.

“Hmm, well seeing as we’ve already done that, why don’t you ask me what happens next?”

With bated breath, Bucky asks “What happens next, doll?”

“Well, you didn’t like that you were the only one half dressed, and you told me to take me top off.”

You watch your neighbour tug at the bottom of your top and gently slip it over your head. “Bra too?” You’re convinced you see Bucky pout when you shake your head.

“Not yet. Even with the one way glass, I got nervous that someone would see me through your office window.“

He smirks. “You weren’t nervous when you were sucking me off?”

“I wasn’t the one with my dick out for the whole firehouse to see.” You scoff. “But you wanted to prove to me that no one would see a thing.”

“How?”

“You texted Peter to come check you’d locked your office at the end of your shift, turned and faced the centre of the window, and stripped completely.” Reaching between your bodies, you push back Bucky’s jeans and boxers until he takes over and rids himself of them fully.

Eyeing up your neighbours body, bare just for you, you wet your lips and continue.

“And then you looked right at me, and starting stroking your cock.”

This time, it doesn’t take your guiding hands for Bucky to wrap a hand around his hardened length and jerk himself off.

“Fuck,” You murmur, “just like that. Looks even better like this, sarge.”

Your praise earns you a searing kiss, one that’s broken all too soon by Bucky ordering you to keep going.

“Peter walked right past the window and didn’t even flinch. Fuck, you were going so fast, I was scared he’d hear you.” Bucky responds by fucking his fist faster, and boy did the sounds your mind conjured up not do a damn bit of justice for the real thing.

Chest heaving and grunts tumbling from his lips like water from a fountain, Bucky tucked his head into the crook of your neck and began licking and sucking like his life depended on it. You bring a hand to his head, needing through his hair to distract yourself from the fact the man you love is laying on top of you and jerking off.

“Don’t stop.” He nips at the skin right beneath you ear in warning.

“Pe-Peter left after trying the door, like we weren’t even there. You pulled me in front of you and- fuck- you, um, you took my bra off and- ohh…”

Bucky releases his cock and reaches behind you to unclasp your bra. He tears it off you, and, like a man possessed, wraps his swollen lips around your left nipple and suckles on it. You moan immediately, back arching into him when you feel his throbbing length against your stomach.

“Jamie, please-“

“Don’t care if this didn’t happen in your dream, lemme suck m’doll’s tits.”

With his mouth feeling like heaven on your skin, you can’t remember anything about the dream, nor do you care to try. But it’s not long before Bucky has you dreaming about something else…

“Wanna taste your milk, sweets, gonna fuck a baby into you and suck on these full, pretty tits till I can drink from ‘em.”

Well that’s new, you think, pussy clenching around nothing at the image of your neighbour suckling on your own breasts.

He turns to love on your other boob, mumbling incoherently into your plush skin. “You like your sarge playing with your tits, doll?”

You mewl a yes when he looks up at you while continuing his assault.

“Atta girl.” He praises, “What next?”

You look down at him in bewilderment.

“In your dream, sweets. What happens next?”

“Oh…” you blush at how easily he’s distracted you. “Umm, you take my bra off and turn me around and you take my jeans and panties off.”

You faintly hear a ‘Yes Ma’am’ before you being flipping onto your stomach and having your hips lifted so Bucky can tug your jeans and panties off.

“So pretty,” Bucky swoons, “so fuckin’ pretty like this, all on show f’me. What now, sweet girl?”

You gulp, knowing what came after this, and knowing you’re finally about to get what you’ve been fantasising about ever since the damn dream itself.

“You bend me over,” He lifts you up onto your hands and knees but pushes you into the bed between you shoulder blades. “And you hold my hip with one hand, and r-run your cock through my- um-“

Stumbling over your words, Bucky leans forward until his lips brush the curve of your ear. “Through your pussy lips? Hmm?”

You nod eagerly, waiting patiently for him to follow suit. It feels like hours before a hand finds your left hip, and days before you finally feel the swollen tip of his cock delving through your folds. Hiding your whimpers into the pillow, Bucky presses lovingly kisses to the back of your neck and across your shoulders.

“Like this, baby?”

Your muffled agreement brings a smirk to his lips as he continues to rut through your sex. So consumed by the moment, Bucky doesn’t notice you reaching behind yourself to tug on his hair. The feeling surprises him enough that you hear a small gasp fall from his lips, and you take full advantage of him being off guard to push your hips back into his, at just the right point for his cock to slip inside your desperate hole.

“And then,” you pull Bucky by his hair till you’re able to look him in the eye, “you fuck me.” You say, watching as his pleasure-struck expression morphs into one of awe; the stillness of the moment leaves nothing but your tangled breathes to be heard before your neighbour’s body catches up with his thoughts, and he finally rocks into you.

It’s slower than you’d expected. Deep thrusts arrive inch by agonising inch, allowing the walls of your weeping cunt to memorising every vein of Bucky’s length. Mouth curved and brows pinched, the firefighter buries his face deeper into your neck, cries of your own name falling upon your ears like a prayer.

“So fuckin’ tight for me, doll.”

“Just-“ A moan tears through you as Bucky’s cock edges further inside your pussy, “just for you, Jamie.”

“God, you can’t say shit like that, baby. I won’t last.”

Well in that case…

“S’all yours, sarge, yours to fuck wh-whenever you want.” You drawl, enjoying the way Bucky’s hips stutter mid thrust. “Cock’s fillin’ me up so damn good, you’ve ruined me for anyone else. Only you can make me feel this good, baby.”

Spurred on by your praise, Bucky speeds up, ramming into you faster with each stroke. The searing hot pleasure has him releasing a long train of swear words, muffled by your own skin.

“You really want me to bust, don’t you? Practically begging for your sarge’s cum like a whore.”

A fresh wave of arousal rushes around his dick and the sound of his balls slapping against your folds grows louder.

“Hear that, sweets? How wet this pussy is f’me? Fuck, we sound so good together, babydoll.” Bucky grunts while fucking into you with vigour. Long gone is the slow rutting he started with, his hips now slamming into you faster than you can cope.

“I know you’re close,” Bucky murmurs, “I am too. My balls’ haven’t felt this full in my life. Gonna give you every last drop, sweets. Bet that’s what your dirty little head imagined, isn’t it?”

Words fail you and your left with nothing but whimpers to give in response, but your neighbour isn’t satisfied.

“Tell me, doll, you’re the one who wanted this, huh? Tell me how hard you came in your dreams when I filled you up with my cum.”

“Argh!” If your throat weren’t so bruised from being a fleshlight for a certain firefighter, your exclamation may have sounded like a scream. Instead, it comes out broken, tired, and laced with a burning desire to be bred. “Squirted a-all over you, sarge, it went everywhere, I- oh fuck- I’ve never cum so h-hard in my life!”

“That’s my perfect girl, gonna make you cum so hard you never have to dream of my cock ever again, okay? I’ll give it to you whenever my girl needs it.”

The knot in your belly is tightening just a step faster than Bucky’s balls are; you’re mere seconds away from giving him everything, but you wait for him to tell you that you can.

You peer over your shoulder to find him with his lip between his teeth, his eyes closed as he focuses solely on making you feel good. You watch in real time as he slides a hand around your waist and delve between your thighs, his fingers finding your clit faster than you ever have.

God, he knows you so well.

“Jamie, please, please- oh- I’m gonna cum. Please let me cum, sarge, please!” You cry, the strumming of your clit ready to send you over the edge.

“You want my permission, doll?”

“Yes! Yes, please, Jamie.”

“I’ll let you cum,” He begins, mouth drawing closer to yours as those glassy blue eyes bear into your own, “if you tell me you love me.”

“Fuck, that’s it?” You all but scoff. “That’s like asking me to breathe.”

Resting his forehead against yours, Bucky rocks his hips into yours and his eyelids flutter shut. “Just need to hear it, doll.”

With a single, love-soaked kiss, you tell him what he wants to hear. Not because you’re desperate to finally let go, but because it’s true.

“I love you, James.”

The next few minutes are a blur. You orgasm tears through you like a freight train and your sweet juices soak Bucky in just seconds. He, however, has buried himself so deep inside you that the cum shooting from his cock head hits your g-spot, and sends you tumbling into yet another orgasm.

Your ever tightening cunt grips onto Bucky like a vice, and it keeps him from pulling out. Not that he ever planned on it. He wasn’t lying when he said he’d give you every last drop.

Hot, white seed spills out around his length and onto the sheets, enough that you wonder if he ever came inside you in the first place. But while your sex’s remain fused together, as do your foreheads; Bucky never pulled back, and neither did you, the sheer need to be closer than close keeping you from parting.

Despite your sorry attempt to stay awake, Bucky whispers sweet nothings into your ear until you still beneath him. He has no intentions of forcing you to stay awake, not when he gets the honour of watching over you, to keep a close eye on your sleeping form as you rest in his hold. Eventually, once your breathing has evened out and the rise and fall of your chest has slowed, he’ll reluctantly pull himself out of your warmth and clean up any cum that’s clung to your thighs. He’ll wipe the drying beads of sweat from your brow and run his fingers through the soft but tangled hair tumbling over your shoulders. The lamps will be switched off, clothes will be folded neatly on the dresser, front door will be locked and blankets straightened and tucked in around you.

And then he’ll climb under the sheets to join his beautiful doll, the one he’d give everything for. He’ll thank the heavens you got out of that building today, but he’ll thank them more for bringing you back to him. Back to his loving arms, that he’ll wrap around you and pull you to his chest. You’ll snuggle into him, press a sleepy kiss to his bare chest, and drag him into your dreams with you.

a/n: ok ok ok i’m sorry it took like a year to get this done. most of it has been written for months, but i just couldn’t figure out how i wanted it to go when bucky turned up at her doorstep. i hope you liked it, i also hope it’s not too horny (but let’s be real, it’s a smut fest). let’s see if i actually get on with any other projects 🤭

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buckyalpine

THIS NEEDS 100 TIMES THE NOTES, HELLO?? Tfff Everyone go read rn, I love them so much

almosttoopizza

The aftercare has me crying istg

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