Flour Power - 1
Character: Amnesia!Bucky x Baker!Female Character
Summary: A baker helps a stranger, only to discover that this individual not only aids the bakery but also brings trouble along with him
A/N: Because Bucky got amnesia, his name was temporarily changed to Bob.
Chap 1, Chap 2 , End
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Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️
The rain poured down in sheets, thunder echoed through the desolate alleyway, casting shadows that danced around the battered figure of the male agent.
"Urghh."
With each labored breath, he clutched his injured left shoulder, the searing pain shooting through him a constant reminder of the peril he faced.
His once crisp suit was now torn and bloodstained, a testament to the fierce struggle he had endured against his enemies.
But despite the physical toll, his determination burned brightly within him, driving him to press on, to fight against the encroaching darkness that threatened to consume him.
With a grimace, he staggered forward, his vision swimming as he fought to stay conscious. Every step felt like an eternity, his senses dulled by the pain and exhaustion that gripped him. Yet, he refused to yield, his willpower serving as his guiding light in the midst of chaos.
Finally, his strength failed him, and he collapsed to his knees in the murky alley. The world around him spun wildly as darkness crept into the edges of his vision, threatening to swallow him whole.
But even in his moment of weakness, he refused to surrender, clinging to the flickering hope that burned within him.
With a final gasp, he succumbed to the enveloping darkness, his body slumping against the cold pavement.
🍞🥖
The first rays of dawn broke through the clouds, casting a golden hue over the city streets, the bustling sounds of morning began to fill the air.
Shop owners unlocked their doors, flipping signs from closed to open, and the aroma of freshly brewed coffee and baked goods wafted through the crisp morning air.
On this particular street, every storefront seemed to come alive with activity. The aroma of sizzling bacon and brewing coffee drew crowds to the bustling cafes and diners, where people eagerly lined up for their morning fuel.
But amidst the hustle and bustle, there was one establishment that stood out, a quaint bakery with a faded sign that simply read "Sunrise Bakery."
Unlike its neighboring eateries, the bakery remained eerily quiet. There were no eager customers waiting outside, no enticing smells drifting onto the sidewalk. Instead, the shop sat in silence, its windows fogged up from the warmth within.
As the morning progressed, a few curious passersby ventured inside the bakery, their footsteps echoing softly against the tiled floor.
But rather than browsing the display cases filled with pastries and bread, they simply approached the counter and asked for a tissue.
Tammy's frustration was palpable as she glanced across the street at the bustling bakery, her lips pursed in a tight frown. With a sigh, she muttered under her breath, "Haah... we're hopeless. You should've sued him for stealing the recipe."
Your hands worked deftly, kneading the dough with practiced precision as you listened to Tammy's grumbles.
You are the fifth generation who inherited this bakery. The business was great until one of the employees stole your family recipe.
Despite the lack of customers lining up at your bakery, your focus remained unwavering on the task at hand – making the best bread for hamburgers in town.
"At least we have loyal customers," you replied, your tone laced with a hint of optimism.
Tammy rolled her eyes, a gesture of exasperation that spoke volumes. "But our bread is more delicious. I want people standing in line to buy our bread and going viral."
You chuckled softly, shaking your head at her idealistic dreams. "That viral thing only lasts for a while. Besides, we don't have the money to pay influencers."
Tammy crossed her arms over her chest, a defiant stance that betrayed her determination. "I have followers too."
Your eyebrows raised in mock surprise, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of your lips. "I think I'd prefer to pay influencers than you," you teased.
Tammy gasped in mock offense, her hand flying to her chest in a dramatic gesture. "Heyyy..."
Despite the banter, there was an underlying camaraderie between you and Tammy, a shared determination to make the bakery succeed against the odds.
You washed your hands, the simmering hurt evident in your furrowed brow as you glanced at the bustling bakery across the street. The betrayal of seeing your family's recipe stolen gnawed at your insides, a bitter taste that refused to fade.
Placing the dough on a tray for its required rest, you instructed Tammy, "I'm going to take out the trash."
The mundane task provided a momentary escape from the weight of your thoughts as you stepped outside into the crisp morning air.
You made your way to the back door of the bakery, the morning sunlight cast a soft glow over the alleyway, illuminating the damp pavement beneath your feet.
But as you approached the trash bin, something caught your eye – a strange object lying in a puddle nearby. It seemed out of place amidst the mundane surroundings, its presence drawing your attention with an air of mystery.
With cautious curiosity, you stepped closer, the sound of your footsteps muffled by the dampness of the alley. The object lay partially submerged in the murky water, its contours distorted by the rippling surface.
As you bent down to get a closer look, a sense of unease washed over you.
With a furrowed brow, you reached out to retrieve the object, your fingers brushing against its cold surface. And as you lifted it from the puddle, the mystery deepened, leaving you with more questions than answers in the stillness of the morning air.
You screamed in horror, your heart pounding in your chest, your eyes widened in shock at the sight of the motionless figure lying in the puddle. "Argh," you cried out, the fear gripping you tightly.
"Tammy!" Your voice rang out, desperate for assistance, as you rushed towards the fallen person.
Your hands trembled slightly as you knelt beside the body, a mixture of dread and concern etched on your face. "Is this person alive?" you called out, your voice quivering with uncertainty.
Suddenly, a jolt of fear shot through you as the person's hand shot out and grabbed onto your arm with surprising strength. "Urgh. Let go!" you exclaimed, trying to pry their fingers off of you.
In a flash, Tammy appeared beside you, her presence a welcome relief in the midst of chaos. With a swift and decisive motion, she swung the rolling pin at the stranger, striking them with a forceful blow.
The person released their grip, their head dropping limply as they crumpled to the ground. You and Tammy exchanged a wary glance, a silent question hanging in the air.
"Did we... kill him?" you murmured, the weight of the situation sinking in as you both stared at the unconscious figure before you, the scene bathed in an eerie silence broken only by the sound of your racing heartbeats.
🏥
"He's lucky to be alive." Relief washed over you as the doctor reassured you that the stranger was fortunate to have survived. However, the fear that had gripped you and Tammy moments ago still lingered, clouding your thoughts with worry.
Your eyes darted nervously between the doctor and Tammy, uncertainty etched in your expressions. Was the stranger's condition solely due to the blow from the rolling pin, or were there other factors at play? Would your actions result in legal consequences, perhaps even imprisonment?
The doctor's words only heightened your apprehension as they continued to explain the severity of the stranger's injuries. "Bullets, knives, poison...". The list seemed endless, each revelation sending a shiver down your spine.
Your gaze lingered on the unconscious stranger, a myriad of questions swirling in your mind. What had led him to this state of peril? Was he a victim of kidnapping, fleeing from unseen dangers?
Suddenly, the patient stirred, his eyes fluttering open, and a collective gasp escaped from you, Tammy, and the doctor.
"Woah."
The sudden movement jolted you all, catching you off guard and sending a surge of adrenaline coursing through your veins.
"This dude keeps giving me a heart attack," Tammy exclaimed, her voice a mixture of relief and frustration, her hand pressed against her chest as if to calm her racing heart.
The doctor's inquiries were met with a shake of the stranger's head, a gesture that spoke volumes without uttering a word. "Amnesia," the doctor concluded, a somber note in their voice as they delivered the diagnosis.
You and Tammy exchanged a worried glance, the weight of guilt settling heavily upon your shoulders. Could it be that the events of this morning had somehow contributed to the stranger's memory loss?
"Oh no," you whispered, your voice barely above a murmur, the remorse evident in your tone as you grappled with the consequences of your actions.
Tammy, ever the optimist, interjected with a suggestion. "Bob suited him," she offered, her voice laced with a hint of mischief as she attempted to lighten the mood.
You shot her a reproachful look, silently pleading for her to refrain from further complicating the situation. "Tammy... stop," you murmured, your tone tinged with exasperation.
But to your surprise, the stranger echoed Tammy's suggestion, his voice soft yet resolute as he repeated the name, "Bob."
Tammy beamed triumphantly, her eyes sparkling with delight. "See, he likes it," she exclaimed, a hint of satisfaction in her voice as she reveled in her impromptu success.
Your brows furrowed in concern as you sought confirmation from the doctor, hoping against hope that the diagnosis of amnesia was somehow mistaken. "Is it really amnesia?" you inquired, your voice tinged with a mix of apprehension and sympathy.
The doctor's response was measured yet decisive. "We will check it thoroughly," they assured, their tone imbued with a sense of professional responsibility.
Hours passed, filled with tense anticipation, until finally, the results of the examinations were revealed. Another inspection and MRI confirmed the doctor's initial assessment – this stranger, now known as Bob, indeed suffered from amnesia.
A pang of empathy tugged at your heartstrings as you gazed upon Bob, a lost soul adrift in a sea of uncertainty. Where would he go from here? What future awaited him in a world where memories held the key to identity and belonging?
"Probably he will end up in a shelter," the doctor remarked matter-of-factly, their words casting a shadow over the room as the gravity of Bob's situation sank in.
You couldn't help but feel a surge of sympathy for Bob, a man without a past, facing an uncertain future. As you watched him, lost in thought, you couldn't shake the feeling of responsibility that weighed heavily upon you.
🍞🥖
As Tammy helped Bob into the apartment, her frustration was evident in her voice. "We're already in debt, and you've decided to take care of another person?" she remarked, her tone tinged with exasperation.
You stood your ground, unable to turn your back on someone in need. "I can't just leave him like that. He fainted behind our store, and now he has no memories," you explained, your voice filled with empathy.
Tammy sighed, resigned to the situation. "Suit yourself. At least we have another employee, and he doesn't need to get paid," she conceded, her practical nature shining through despite her reluctance.
Bob glanced at Tammy, his expression unreadable as he took in her words.
Tammy crossed her arms, laying down the terms of their arrangement. "That's right. You can sleep, eat, and live here. In return, you have to help at the bakery. You have to work."
"Work," Bob echoed, his voice soft yet determined.
"Good," Tammy declared, a hint of satisfaction in her tone as she finalized the agreement. Then, she leaned in to whisper to you, "I felt like I was talking to a kid."
You stifled a laugh, nodding in agreement as you exchanged a knowing glance with Tammy.
You approached Bob with a gentle smile, reassurance radiating from your eyes. "You just need to rest for now. When you're ready, you can join me at the bakery. I won't force you to work if you're still hurting," you assured him, your voice laced with empathy.
"Work," Bob repeated, his voice a quiet affirmation of his willingness to contribute despite the challenges he faced.
With a nod of understanding, you gave Bob a reassuring pat on the shoulder before stepping back, allowing him the space he needed to recuperate.
As you descended the stairs into the bakery, the familiar scent of freshly baked bread greeted you. Tammy, already bustling about behind the counter, looked up with a mischievous twinkle in her eye as you approached.
"You know what," she began, her voice carrying a note of excitement, "if Bob got a haircut, shave his beard a bit, he will be handsome. I notice that he has a perfect asymmetrical face."
You couldn't help but chuckle at Tammy's candid observation, her knack for noticing details never ceasing to amaze you. "You think so?" you replied with a grin, intrigued by the idea.
Tammy nodded eagerly, her enthusiasm contagious. "Definitely! It could boost his confidence, and who knows, maybe it'll attract more customers too."
Little did you know that Tammy's crazy idea would help the bakery.
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