Stucky Bingo blog

Steve can't sleep again. He's gotten maybe eleven hours the past week. Some nights, like this one, he doesn't try, knowing there's no point.

Instead, he leaves his SHIELD-issued apartment and walks to the park. It's only a small park, but this spot, by the pond, is his favored spot. Furthest from the streets, cars, and noise. From overly bright lights and intrusive cameras. Dark and secluded. Calm.

From his jacket, he pulls out his sketchbook. Willing his mind to think only of the drag of pencil on paper as he fills the pages. Drawing the blossoms as they fall into the dark water. Drifting down with the barest of sound on the breeze to float atop the wet abyss below.

It's easy to drift and fall too far. To lose himself like the petals. Floating across the in-between of time. Trapped between selves lost like the petals that sink into the dark pond. Caught as someone so unfamiliar to him now, consumed by time. His frame too large, the world too bright. Sharp. Abrasive. Wrong in the small ways, like everything was always an inch off to the right.

Steve gazes out across the dark pond, inky depths of time, head floating. Seeing a different pond before him. A different place. A different time. Expecting he'd soon feel a familiar hand come to rest on his shoulder.

The scolding but fond words that'll follow so predictably; so familiar, almost routine.

But the comfort never comes.

The empty space stays silent. Bucky is dead, and he's alone. Nothing is right anymore. No one is coming for him now.

So, Steve waits. Waits, watching for the sun to rise. Waiting for another day of work. Another night of insomnia.

Waiting for someone who was lost 70 years ago to save him.

It was a quiet place.

Too quiet for the season.

But precisely because of that… it felt like a breath of fresh air.

A small corner of the world where the war hadn’t quite reached yet.

You walked with your hands in the pockets of your coat, feeling the cold air brush against your face. You’d learned to endure it, but that didn’t mean you liked it.

“I’m going to lose my fingers,” you muttered.

“You’re exaggerating,” Bucky replied from your left side, with a crooked smile.

“Sure, because you don’t feel the cold like a normal person.”

“Oh, sorry, do you want me to complain more so you feel better?”

“Yeah, thanks.”

Bucky let out a soft laugh, visible in the steam escaping from his mouth.

“All right. It’s cold. Really cold. My hands are frozen.”

“Liar.”

“A little.”

Steve was walking on the other side.

A little quieter.

As always.

His hands were covered by worn gloves, and his scarf barely managed to protect him from the wind.

“Are you okay? ” you asked, tilting your head slightly toward him.

Steve nodded.

“Yeah.”

“I don’t believe you.”

Bucky chimed in without breaking stride.

“Never believe him when he says that.”

Steve rolled his eyes.

“I’m fine.”

“That’s exactly what someone who isn’t fine would say,” you said.

He sighed.

“I’m just… thinking.”

“I’ll believe you on that,” Bucky muttered.

They turned the corner onto the main street.

Everything felt more alive there.

A small café with fogged-up windows.

A radio shop.

A bakery from which a sweet, warm aroma wafted out, contrasting with the cold air.

“I’m going in there,” you declared, pointing to the bakery.

“We don’t have any money,” Steve said.

“I do.”

They both looked at you.

“Since when?” Bucky asked.

“Since I’ve been better at managing my money than the two of you.”

“That’s not hard,” Steve muttered.

You smiled slightly.

“So, are you going to stay out here freezing, or are you coming in with me?”

Bucky was the first to move.

“If there’s food, I’m going in.”

Steve hesitated for a second.

But then he followed you.

The doorbell chimed as you entered.

The warmth enveloped them immediately.

It was an almost overwhelming change.

Your hands began to thaw slowly, and the smell of freshly baked bread made everything feel… lighter.

More human.

“Now that’s living,” Bucky said, looking at the counter.

“Don’t get too excited,” you replied. “It’s only enough for something small.”

“Something is something.”

Steve was looking around the place with a different expression.

“What are you going to order?” you asked him.

“Nothing.”

You frowned.

“Steve.”

“Seriously, I’m fine.”

“Don’t start.”

Bucky crossed his arms.

“You already started.”

You sighed.

“Let’s just get something for the three of us and be done with it.”

“You don’t have to…”

“Yes, I do.”

Steve fell silent.

Not because he didn’t have anything to say.

But because he knew you weren’t going to back down.

And deep down…

He didn’t want you to either.

Minutes later, they were sitting at a small table by the window.

Three steaming cups.

A couple of sweet rolls.

Nothing extraordinary.

“This is amazing,” Bucky said with his mouth half full.

“Swallow before you speak,” you muttered.

Steve held the cup in his hands, soaking up the warmth.

His eyes wandered for a moment to the street, where the snow was still falling slowly.

“Do you think this will last?” he asked suddenly.

You looked at him.

“What?”

“This.”

“The peace.”

Bucky stopped eating.

It wasn’t a light question.

“I don’t know,” you answered honestly.

Steve nodded slightly.

“Me neither.”

Silence returned.

Because all three of you knew the world was changing.

That sooner or later…

Everything was going to be different.

Bucky broke the moment.

“Well, while it lasts… I’m going to keep eating this.”

You let out a little laugh.

“Now that’s a strategy.”

Steve smiled faintly.

“I suppose so.”

You looked at both of them.

At Bucky, relaxed, trying to maintain a sense of normalcy.

At Steve, thinking beyond the present.

And at yourself…

That’s why no one questioned the mission.

That’s why no one saw the disaster coming.

The night was cold but calm. The target building stood in the middle of an abandoned industrial zone, surrounded by old structures, rusted steel, and silence. Too much silence.

“I don’t like this,” you muttered, adjusting your earpiece.

“You never like anything,” Bucky replied from your left.

“No, this is different.”

Steve was leading the way.

Always leading the way.

“Explain yourself,” he said without stopping.

You scanned the perimeter once more.

The lights.

The cameras.

The blind spots.

“It’s too clean,” you whispered. “Too… prepared.”

Bucky let out a soft sigh.

“Maybe they’re just organized.”

“Or maybe they’re waiting for us.”

The silence that followed was brief.

But heavy.

Steve stopped.

He turned his face just enough to look at you over his shoulder.

“We’re here.”

“Then let’s go in.”

The infiltration was… easy.

Too easy.

The locks gave way without resistance.

The hallways were empty.

No patrols.

No alarms.

Nothing.

Every step they took echoed.

And that… felt like a warning.

“This is a trap,” you finally said, in a low voice.

“Yeah,” Steve replied.

“Definitely,” Bucky added.

They reached the main room.

The target was there.

A central console.

Powered on.

Waiting for them.

“I don’t like this,” you repeated.

“Stay back,” Steve ordered.

He stepped forward.

Bucky covered the flank.

You watched the entrance.

Everything was quiet.

Too quiet.

Steve reached out toward the console.

And the moment he touched it…

Everything went dark.

The lights.

The sound.

The air itself seemed to stop.

A second of total darkness.

And then, the alarms.

Red lights.

The doors are sealing shut.

Footsteps.

Lots of footsteps.

“Now!” Bucky growled, raising his weapon.

“They’re surrounding us!” you warned.

“Formation,” Steve ordered.

You moved instinctively.

Back to back.

Ready.

Prepared.

But it wasn’t enough.

It was never enough.

The doors burst open.

And the enemies poured in.

Too many.

Far more than the report had anticipated.

“This is a full-blown ambush,” you said, firing.

“I know,” Steve replied, blocking an attack with his shield.

Bucky advanced.

Lethal.

Precise.

But every enemy that fell… was replaced by two more.

“We’re not going to hold out like this!” you shouted.

Steve assessed the situation in a second.

“We have to get out. Now!”

“Where?” Bucky asked, striking another enemy.

You looked around.

Calculating.

“East corridor. But…”

An explosion cut you off.

The ground shook.

The ceiling creaked.

And everything changed.

Part of the structure collapsed.

Separating you.

“Steve!” you shouted.

Dust filled the air.

The noise was deafening.

“I’m here!” he replied from the other side.

But you couldn’t see him. You couldn’t reach him.

“We have to get together!” Bucky said, grabbing your arm.

“Not without him!”

“If we stay, we’ll all be buried!”

“Trust me!” Steve shouted from the other side. “Get out!”

You shook your head, even though he couldn’t see you.

“No!”

“It’s an order!”

The inner silence hit you harder than the explosion.

“…No.”

“Shut up and run.”

The east corridor was half-destroyed.

But it was passable.

You ran.

Gunfire behind you.

Explosions.

Screams.

Everything is collapsing.

“Steve!” you called again.

“Keep going,” he replied. “I’m behind you.”

It didn’t sound right.

It sounded… forced.

“I don’t believe you.”

“You don’t need to believe me. Just move.”

The ground shook again.

Another explosion.

Closer.

Too close.

Through the smoke.

Emerging from the rubble.

Covered in dust.

Wounded.

But standing.

Always standing.

“Move!” he ordered.

You didn’t think.

You ran toward him.

Bucky too.

You reached the exit just as another part of the building collapsed behind you.

The cold night air hit your face.

You breathed.

Deeply.

Quickly.

Desperately.

But you were out.

You were alive.

For now.

You turned to Steve.

“You’re hurt.”

“I’m fine.”

He wasn’t.

But he was still standing.

“That went wrong,” Bucky said, looking at the building now crumbling.

“Yeah,” you replied. “Very wrong.”

Steve stared at the ruins in silence.

“It was a trap,” he said finally.

“We knew it,” you replied.

“And yet we went in anyway.”

Bucky snorted.

“What a lovely moment… can we get out of here before more of them show up?”

You let out a small laugh.

May themes are:

Flower Blossom

Water

Confetti

And the adoptables are:

Bucky’s Notebook/Journal

Empathy

AU: Artist/Muse

Lagos

“I thought you were smaller.”

Harry Osborn

Insomnia

Art Format: Pin-up

Image: Steve’s back alley shield

Writing Format: Remix Someone Else’s Fic

You heard it before anyone else.

You were leaning against the outer wall of the makeshift base, checking the crumpled map Steve had given you for the third time. The air smelled of damp earth, of old metal…

“That…” you murmured, lifting your head slightly, “wasn’t there before.”

The engine's roar sounded again, clearer this time.

And closer.

Steve, who was a few yards away talking on the communicator, stopped dead in his tracks.

“Do you hear that?”

“Yes,” you replied. “And I don’t like it.”

There was a second of silence.

Then two.

And then…

“Oh, no,” Steve said, closing his eyes as if he already knew exactly what was happening.

The jeep appeared, skidding in from the left side of the camp.

Dust billowing.

Gravel flying.

Fast, decisive movement… and completely unnecessary.

At the wheel was Bucky.

“No,” you repeated, this time out loud. “No, no, no, no…”

The jeep swerved sharply, missing a supply crate by inches, before heading straight for you.

Steve stepped forward.

“Bucky!”

Bucky didn’t slow down.

In fact,… he sped up.

“BUCKY!”

The jeep came to a stop just a few yards from you, with a screech that echoed throughout the area. The engine was still running.

Bucky rested an arm on the window, as if nothing had happened. As if he hadn’t just stolen a military vehicle in the middle of an operation.

“Get in.”

You blinked.

“What?”

“Get in,” he repeated, tilting his head slightly. “We don’t have much time.”

Steve stared at him.

“Where’d you get this?”

“I borrowed it.”

“Bucky…”

“Steve,” he interrupted. “Reinforcements are coming. Not ours.”

That was enough. Steve opened the back door without saying another word.

“Get in,” he said.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?”

“No,” they both answered at the same time.

You sighed. And you got in. The jeep pulled away before you could close the door properly.

“Hey!”

“Hold on,” Bucky said.

And then he stepped on the gas. The camp was left behind in seconds. The road wasn’t really a road, more like a mix of uneven dirt, loose rocks, and remnants of what was once a highway. The jeep bounced, vibrated, and creaked with every movement.

“You’re going too fast!” you shouted, holding on to the front seat.

“Not fast enough,” Bucky replied without taking his eyes off the road ahead. Steve leaned forward slightly.

“How many?”

“I didn’t count them.”

“Bucky…”

“A lot.”

Silence.

“Great,” you muttered.

The wind whipped your face; dust got into your throat, your eyes, and everywhere. You turned your head slightly.

Steve was looking at Bucky.

Not with anger.

Not exactly.

“Do you have a plan?” Steve asked.

Bucky smiled faintly.

“Sure.”

“I don’t like the sound of that.”

“I do.”

“That’s worse.”

The jeep took a turn too sharply.

“BUCKY!”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not the problem!”

“Trust me.”

Steve let out a small sigh.

“I always do.”

You held on tighter as the jeep jolted again.

“Does anyone want to tell me where we’re going?”

“To high ground,” Bucky replied. “We need to see them before they see us.”

“And the stolen jeep is part of the plan?”

“Totally.”

“Of course it is,” you muttered.

After a few minutes that felt like hours, the terrain began to rise. The jeep climbed with difficulty, the engine straining a little more with every meter. Until finally… Bucky braked.

“Get out,” he said.

You got out quickly.

Below, in the distance, they were moving.

Shadows.

Vehicles.

Too many.

“You were right,” Steve said quietly.

“I know.”

“Plan? Now?”

Bucky crossed his arms, watching.

“We’ll divert them.”

“How?”

A brief pause.

“With this.”

He turned slightly toward the jeep.

You looked at it.

Then at him.

Then back at the jeep.

“No.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow.

"No, what?”

“You’re not going to do what I think you’re going to do.”

“Depends on what you think I’m going to do.”

“Are you going to use the jeep as a distraction?”

“Yes.”

“And that includes… letting it roll downhill without a driver?”

Silence.

“Maybe.”

“Bucky!”

Steve let out a small chuckle under his breath.

“It works.”

“That’s not the point!”

Bucky was already walking toward the vehicle.

“Trust me.”

“That line’s already been used today,” you replied.

“And it still applies.”

“Fine. But if this goes wrong…”

“It’s not going to go wrong.”

“That’s what you said before we stole the jeep.”

“And look where we are.”

“Fine,” you admitted. “Keep talking.”

Bucky smiled slightly.

And he began to explain.

The jeep started up again minutes later.

But this time…

with no one inside.

They watched it move forward slowly.

Then pick up speed.

Then disappear down the hill.

Straight toward the enemy.

Seconds later… explosion.

The echo reverberated throughout the valley.

Movement below.

Confusion.

Chaos.

Steve nodded.

“It worked.”

Bucky didn’t answer.

“Hey.”

They both looked at you.

“Yeah, you stole the jeep.”

Bucky tilted his head.

“I borrowed it.”

“Uh-huh.”

Steve shook his head, but there was a small smile on his face.

You were in the background.

Sitting on the floor, legs stretched out, drinking water, completely distracted. Steve was a few steps away from you, leaning slightly forward, listening to something Natasha was saying. Bucky, on the other hand, was right behind you, leaning against the wall, arms crossed, and looking seemingly lost in thought.

It looked like a normal photo.

Just one among hundreds.

Until someone posted it.

The official Avengers account wasn’t small.

Nothing that came out of there went unnoticed.

The photo was posted without much context, just a simple caption: “Training complete.”

But the internet doesn’t work that way.

It never has.

“Why are there so many notifications?” You muttered, looking at your phone hours later.

You were sitting in the common room, holding a now-cold cup of coffee. You weren’t the type to constantly check social media, much less mentions.

But this… this was impossible to ignore.

“What’s going on?” Steve asked from the other side of the couch.

You showed him the screen.

“I have no idea.”

Steve frowned slightly, leaning in a little closer to you to get a better look.

“What did they post?”

You opened the post.

Silence.

Then silence again.

And then…

“Oh.”

Steve rubbed the back of his neck.

“Yeah… that makes sense.”

“What makes sense?” you asked, turning the screen toward him.

The comments weren’t… normal.

They weren’t about training.

They weren’t about the team.

They were about you.

About the two of you.

“Did anyone else notice how he looks at her?”

“This isn’t a coincidence.”

“He’s clearly after her ALL the time.”

“And Steve? Don’t tell me you didn’t notice.”

“This is a love triangle; don’t lie to me.”

You blinked.

“What?”

Steve didn’t answer right away.

Because just then, someone else approached.

“What are you looking at?”

Bucky. You turned slightly in your seat, showing him the screen without thinking too much.

“This.”

Bucky looked.

In silence.

For longer than necessary.

“...Interesting.”

“Interesting?” you repeated. “Is that what you’re saying?”

“It’s not wrong,” he added, completely calmly.

You turned your head slowly toward him.

“Bucky,” Steve warned, quirking a brow. “We should focus on what we discussed earlier. I will drive Y/N to her apartment and help her gather what she’ll need to stay a few days at our place. Meanwhile, you can prepare the guest room and order lunch for us.”

“Can Bucky come too?” you shyly murmured. The two of them were the only reason you didn’t lose your mind. “Please.”

“Of course,” Bucky assured you, looking at his husband. “Right, Steve. We won’t leave Y/N alone.”

You glanced at Steve, who nodded. “We’ll be right beside you, doll,” he said. You sniffled, feeling the unwavering support. “We can all drive to your place, grab your things, and have lunch on the way back.”

“Okay,” you released a shuddery breath. “What about work? I can’t miss too many days. I need to make money to support the baby and…” You started to babble, only stopping when Steve pressed his index finger to your lips.

“Doll, you will take as much time off as you need. I know your bosses won’t mind,” Steve assured you, smiling softly. “If you insist on working, you can work remotely from now on. We want you to be comfortable.”

“We can talk about all this later,” Bucky jumped in. He grabbed your hand and squeezed it. “For now, we’ll sit and wait. Let’s focus on getting you comfortable at your new home.”

Steve rolled his eyes at his husband’s eagerness. Bucky was never a patient man. If he wants something, Bucky hits fast and hard. “Bucky,” his husband sighed. “We talked about this.”

“We should wait and find out if I’m pregnant. If not, we can just move on and laugh about all this,” you tried not to think too much about the consequences of the fertility clinic’s mistake.

“If it didn’t work this time,” Bucky was quick to wrap his arm around your middle, “we can try again, Y/N. You are the ideal mother. We couldn’t imagine having a baby with someone else.”

“Bucky!” Steve hissed. He tried to stop his husband before he could make things worse. “We should head out now.”

The drive to your apartment was filled with comfortable silence. While Steve drove, Bucky was seated in the back seat with you. He was chatting you up, occasionally glancing at your belly.

Steve glanced in the rearview mirror, shaking his head. Bucky just wouldn’t let up. He was about to say something when his phone started to ring.

Steve hated answering his phone while driving. He was about to ignore the call when he saw the caller ID. “It’s the clinic,” he said, pressing the steering wheel phone button. “What?”

“Mr. Rogers. We wanted to inform you that the clinic will take full responsibility for the mistake the nurse made. Any future treatment for your surrogate will be free.”

“You ruined Miss Y/L/N’s plans, and ours. Do you honestly believe we will give you another chance?” Steve barked. You flinched at the harshness.

“He’s angry at them, not you,” Bucky assured you. “He hates seeing you sad. We know you wanted to do this your way.”

“Stop calling me! This ends today,” Steve hung up. He scoffed at their audacity. “Can you believe this? They offered another treatment for free.”

“Steve, calm down. We don’t want to scare Y/N, right?” Bucky tried to calm his husband down.

“Doll. I’m sorry. I didn’t want to scare you. We’d love to see you all swollen with our babies,” Steve hastily said. “You know that you’re the only one.”

Your cheeks heated up hearing Steve confirm what Bucky told you so many times. You nervously rubbed your thighs. You couldn’t believe these men wanted to have a baby with you.

“We mean what we say, Y/N,” Bucky whispered in your ear. “You’re the one and only. No one can compare to you.”

Inside your apartment, you felt a wave of nausea hit you. You ran into the bathroom and emptied your stomach into the toilet bowl.

“Doll, are you okay?” Steve crouched down next to you while Bucky carefully rubbed your back. “It’s all a little too much, we know.”

“Everything is alright, Y/N. We are there for you, now and forever. You don’t have to go through all this alone.”

“I just realized that my plans went down the drain,” you sniffled. “I gave up on men, you know. Now I have two in my life, and it’s a little much.”

“Y/N, we are not like the men letting you down. We respect and cherish you. Bucky and I will protect you and the babies. No one will ever hurt you again.”

“And we are nice to look at,” Bucky added. “Steve is the best cuddler, and I can cook. We are the best of two worlds. Just give it a try.”

After you calmed down, Steve and Bucky helped you pack. Bucky insisted on packing more of your things, just to be sure. “All done,” he said, looking at the two suitcases. “Where do you want to have lunch?”

“Urgh, no lunch for me,” you clutched your belly. “My stomach is still acting up. I’ll just lie down and sleep it off.”

Steve nodded slowly. He knew it was too early for morning sickness, but he couldn’t help but feel a little excited. The blonde just knew you were carrying their babies.

“In that case, let’s drive home, Buck. You can make her your infamous chicken soup.”

“It’s a special chicken soup,” Bucky whispered. “The secret ingredients are love and devotion, Y/N.” He kissed your cheek. “Now, let’s go home…”

Dropping his bag by the door and kicking off his boots, Steve lets out a tired breath.

He refrains from the impulse to rest against the doorframe, knowing that if he does, he will fall asleep there. He doesn't have much time before debrief; all he could manage was a few minutes to drop off his bag and have a shower.

Steve drags himself over to the bedroom and sighs when he hears the shower already running. Looks like he'll be having a shower after the meeting. That's... fine. It's fine. Really.

He gives a longing look towards the bathroom door, feeling his skin itch with all the dirt, blood, and whatever else. The bed, he doesn't dare glance at, knowing his willpower will break if he does.

Probably for the best if he just heads over to the meeting now.

Just as Steve turns to leave, the bathroom door opens. Bucky stands at the open door, dripping and nude, steam from the running shower spilling out around him.

"You look tired," Bucky says in greeting.

"Thanks, you look great as well." Steve says dryly, letting his head drop, "Missed you too, so glad to be home."

He hears Bucky let out a small huff of a laugh.

"C'mere, Punk." Bucky grabs Steve's hand and drags him into the bathroom. "I know just the thing."

Bucky pulls him into the shower still clothed, despite Steve's tired protests.

"They're going straight to the laundromat anyway," Bucky says, cutting Steve's arguments with kisses.

Bucky starts peeling off Steve's sodden clothes, letting them fall to the shower floor.

"I have- mphf -a meeting in- Guhhh -in three minutes. BUCKY!" Steve tries to say around Bucky's amorous efforts.

"Mhm," is all he gets in response.

"It's important I-..." more kisses. "The team-..." his shirt is pulled over his head. "I can't miss-...". Bucky drags his teeth down his neck, and his resolve isn't the only thing weakening.

Steve wraps his arms around Bucky's shoulders as his knees tremble under his partner's attention.

"Bucky, please..." he moans.

He feels Bucky's mouth curl into a smile as he bites his shoulder.

"I know what you need, Baby," Bucky says, pressing back against the shower wall. Pushing himself between Steve's legs and grinding his cock against Steve's. "Some 'quality time' right here."

Steve blinks through the water, hitting him in the face to stare at Bucky. If he says no, this would stop. He'd be able to make it to the meeting on time.

It's been a long week. He's exhausted. He's tired of the weight of command and the violence of battle.

He doesn't really want to sit through Debrief.

What he wants- needs- is Bucky.

"Hang on," Steve says, bending over to pick up his pants from the shower floor and grabbing his phone.

With quick fingers, Steve calls the Avengers Line. "Hey, JARVIS. I'm sorry, I won't be making it to the meeting. Something came up."

Bucky laughs against his neck, "Yeah, it did."