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chxrrybcmbs · 5 months

Text

Sweetest Thing

Synopsis: You join Sam and Bucky to assist them with the Flag Smashers. Since you're a telepath, you come in handy. One night, while Zemo and Sam are out, you and Bucky have a little heart to heart.

Warnings: angst and a little fluff 💝👍🏻

Word count: 1.3k

Note: I do not give permission for my work to copied or translated anywhere else but this blog.

Since The Blip, you started working more with Bucky. Assisting him and Sam when the fiasco with the Flag Smashers became bigger than expected. As a telepath, your abilities came in handy quite a bit. Nothing could be hidden from you, though you had a rule about invading peoples minds. You never did it without permission unless it was essential to an operation.

Bucky wouldn't admit it but he was nervous about working with you. His mind had been invaded so many times before. Molded to whatever was needed of him. But you showed your trustworthiness, and Sam vouched for you too. In time he began to ease up when you were around.

Often he'd find himself enjoying your company and preferring it to being alone like he usually was. He wasn't used to this feeling and he suppressed it as much as he could. He was unstable and never truly felt like he was worth all the trouble Steve had gone through for him. Even if he was free from the programming he still didn't feel comfortable and he was scared to let anyone else in.

Sam had forced himself in, somewhat against his will. But you, you were different. He didn't want to hurt you and he knew if you saw everything he was you'd turn and run.

One night, while Sam had taken Zemo off somewhere to gather more intelligence, it was just you and Bucky alone in the apartment.

The place was spacious, way too spacious for two people. Bucky was in the kitchen fixing himself a drink and you were sitting in the living room typing away on your laptop. As he watched you, he felt his heart rate speed up and he started feeling a nervous itch. Like he needed to move or he'd jump out of his skin. He took a sip of his drink and continued to observe you. Admire was a better word for it but he wasn't ready to admit that.

You were a pretty closed off person, didn't let a lot of people know much about you or where you came from. Other than what was on file. Bucky related to that in a way, he figured with your power it must be hard to let people in. Hearing thoughts and seeing someone's intentions before they act on them. He didn't realize he'd started tapping his foot anxiously until you spoke,

"You know, Sam did warn me about the staring thing." He stiffened and downed the rest of his drink as you closed your laptop.

"I'm used to people staring but it's usually after they find out what I can do. It's typically a disapproving, disgusted look but." You shook your head. Bucky felt like a deer in headlights. He hadn't meant to make you feel like he was disgusted by you. He just couldn't keep his eyes off you, they were drawn to you like magnets. He was wondering if you could sense it. Sense the feelings he'd been working to bury underneath layers and layers of gruff aloofness.

You stood up and walked over to the record player in the corner. You hadn't taken Zemo for a musical guy but he had an extensive record collection.

"Do you mind if I put on some music? It sort of helps keep me from hearing-" you waved your hands around your head mimicking the thoughts you often heard from unsuspecting strangers. If someone's mind wasn't strong enough, even without you trying you could hear them. Their deepest, darkest secrets and desires. Bucky nodded and you spun back around to place the record you chose onto the needle.

Music started gently drifting and echoing around the apartment. You breathed a deep sigh of relief, looking over at Bucky who was still standing stiff in the kitchen. You chuckled lightly as he averted his gaze to the floor,

"You don't have to ignore me either. I understand the staring, it's okay I'm not offended."

Bucky looked up at you, his eyes looking to you then back to the floor. His heart began to thump again and the song playing seemed to be spilling his secrets for him.

I wanna get close to you, tug at your ribbons and pearls

Just feel my heart go bump, baby

Feel it coming on through

He took in a breath and moved towards the living room. Finally leaving the sanctuary of the kitchen. He realized he hadn't spoken a single word and now he wasn't sure he could. He stood before you, a healthy distance away still, and parted his lips to speak but couldn't find the words just yet.

What he asked you to do next took you by surprise,

"I want you to read my mind." The statement was simple, but you never imagined him ever saying it.

"You want me to what?" You retorted, utterly floored at his request.

"I want you to read my mind. I'm- I can't express things correctly." He stuttered and you felt a twinge of pity.

"Why do you want me to read your mind?" You wondered, this was sort of sudden. You hadn't meant to make him feel guilty for staring. You truly didn't mind it, you kind of liked his attention if you were being honest.

"Just do it." He said, and you didn't argue any further. You closed your eyes and tuned the music into a low tone in your mind, you reached out to Bucky's mind. At first there was nothing, just emptiness and silence. Then, you saw flashes, images. Some you recognized but it wasn't from your perspective, but from his.

You saw Sam and the glares and eye rolls. The jokes and the sarcastic remarks. Then you saw yourself, laughing and smiling. Bucky seemed to hold onto those moments with you. He watched you more than you noticed and you felt that twinge in your heart. That pull on something you'd been ignoring since you agreed to work with them.

The warmth you felt from those memories of his was overwhelming. You knew you were blushing and you would deal with the embarrassment later. You were going to end the connection when you saw new flashes, Steve, Hydra, he still remembered everything. You pulled yourself out before you saw too much.

Tears were welling in your eyes as you opened them. You brought the sleeve of your shirt up to wipe them away quickly. Bucky still stood in that same spot, watching you. His face anticipating your rejection, readying himself for you to walk out the door.

"What did you see?" He asked, his voice a little more broken than he liked. You steeled yourself as you met his gaze.

"I saw myself. Your memories, with Sam and some with Steve." You didn't mention the ones of Hydra. That was something he probably didn't mean to reveal and you'd never speak of it.

"Bucky. I-" you paused, trying to gather your thoughts.

"It's okay." He said, shaking his head. "You don't have to reciprocate or respond or anything. I just wanted you to know and that was the only way I could do it." He looked down at his shoes and you felt that pull again. That tugging on your heart. He moved to turn around and you grabbed his hand, pulling him back to face you.

You reached up and kissed him. It took you both by surprise, but he kissed you back and you relaxed. You felt his arms hovering nervously at his sides and you broke the kiss to guide them to rest on your hips. You looked up into his blue eyes before going in to kiss him again, softer this time.

"You know." You whispered against his lips. "Next time you want to tell me something, just tell me." You joked and he flashed a smile as he leaned down to peck your lips.

"Understood." He mumbled.

When Sam and Zemo came back later that night, they found you both asleep on the couch. Your head on Bucky's chest and Bucky's arm around you, his head leaning back on the couch.

Zemo looked at Sam,

"I told you so."

"Shut up." Sam grumbled and left the room. Zemo smirked to himself, and went to his quarters. Leaving you and Bucky in each others embrace.

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Song referenced in the fic is Sweetest Thing by Gene Loves Jezebel

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vanwritesfan-fiction · 6 months

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A Tiny Interruption

Warnings: not much, a lot of fluff and Bucky trying to take care of a baby. A little bit of an argument with the reader, but a fluffy ending

Bucky was looking forward to a couple of days of doing absolutely nothing. There were no avenger-level threats on the horizon, and he was hoping that the weekend would consist of you and him on the couch, ordering takeout, and watching one of the many movies he was trying to catch up after missing decades of what you called "crucial pop culture". He actually thought he was going to get his wish. That was, until your sister called.

****

"I have been tortured, brainwashed", Bucky let out a huff as he scooted forward in his chair at the dining table, the sound of the legs dragging against the floor grating. "Hell, I was the Winter Soldier. So if you think your tactics are going to work, you can think again." He narrowed his eyes at his opponent, poking a finger into the air to solidify his point.

Milo giggled at Bucky's tough-guy act, slamming his teething toy against the high chair tray with a shriek, as a string of drool dropped to his terry cloth bib. "Now sit still and eat this...this, I think she said its peas." Bucky grumbled as he looked a the small glass jar of baby food in his hand. He held the tiny plastic spoon with green mush on it out to Milo, but he rejected it, beginning to get fussy as he squirmed in the high chair, turning his head away in disgust.

"Maybe try the airplane", you suggested as you walked out of the kitchen with your cup of coffee. You sat down across from your boyfriend and your nephew, watching the Bucky go toe-to-toe with a six month old.

"The what?", Bucky looked over his shoulder at you, his brows furrowed in confusion.

"Ya know, the airplane", you feigned the sound of an airplane propeller with your mouth, motioning your arm as if you were cutting through the clouds. "Honey, I'm not doing that." Again Bucky offered a spoonful, but Milo was even more reluctant, knocking the spoon out of Bucky's hand, baby food landing on his vibranium arm.

"I'll get you something to clean up with", you rose to your feet and headed back into the kitchen, emerging with a damp cloth. Bucky carefully wiped down the metal components, making sure no water hit any of the gears. A whirring sound emitted from his prosthetic as he flexed his fingers open and closed, the hand stiff. Milo erupted with giggles as he watched Bucky struggle.

"Ya think that's funny, huh?" Bucky scowled, only making Milo laugh harder.

"Buck", you placed a hand on his shoulder, gently massaging it, "Milo is six months old, please don't tell me you have beef with a baby."

"He started it!" Bucky was quickly losing his patience, but didn't want to show weakness in front of the infant. "Here, let me help you", you sat on Bucky's lap, taking the spoon from his hand.

"The trick is to be calm and happy", you gave Milo a big smile, earning one from him in return, "and make it seem like its the best thing in the world." You cooed over your nephew, making smacking noises with your lips as you offered him the food, Milo happily opening his mouth.

"How do you know how to do that?" Bucky mumbled against your sweatshirt, his head rested on your shoulder as he watched you feed Milo. He always knew that you would make an amazing mother, and he was always in awe of your patience and kindness towards everyone and everything, something he knew he was sorely lacking.

You shrugged, standing and picking up the baby, placing him on your hip. "I don't know, its just always come naturally. I guess being the oldest of four siblings, you learn the tricks of the trade." As if Milo had timed it, as soon as you finished speaking, he spit up all over the front of your sweatshirt.

"Oh no, this is my favorite sweatshirt." It was one that Bucky had "given" to you, a navy blue hoodie with 'Brooklyn' embroidered on the front, when you first started dating and his sweatshirts mysteriously started ending up at your place. "Here, take him, I have to get this in the wash before the stain sets."

"Babe, I don't think that's a good idea-", before Bucky could finish his sentence, you had handed Milo to him and headed to the laundry room to apply stain remover to your sweater. "What am I supposed to do with him?" He asked, holding Milo out at arms length, studying the infant wriggling in his hands.

"Just hold him", you called out from the laundry room. "He's a baby, you don't really have to do much."

Bucky held Milo against his chest, bouncing the baby as he walked around the living room. The soothing didn't seem to work as Milo started crying, his wails growing louder with each passing second. "Alright, alright, that's enough", Bucky gritted out between clenched teeth, purposely giving his voice low. He grimaced as Milo began to scream, tears streaming down his face, a snot bubble peaking out of his nose.

"Oh no, poor baby." Bucky willingly handed Milo back to you, making him immediately quiet down. "What did the mean man do to you?" You pressed a kiss to your Milo's forehead, grinning at Bucky. Bucky wasn't amused, his jaw flexing, something he did whenever he was stressed. "This is not my thing. I'm not a baby person."

"What are you saying? You don't want a baby someday?" You hoped Bucky couldn't see the flash of disappointment on your face. You hadn't had much of a conversation around having kids, mostly because Bucky would always change the conversation, but you were hoping he'd eventually come around to the idea of a family at least.

"I'm saying, I'm not made for this." Bucky's gaze dropped to his feet as he crossed his arms over his chest. He knew it wasn't what you wanted to hear, but it was the truth, and it was better that you knew now, rather than down the road when you two were in too deep into your relationship.

"Bucky, what does that even mean? I think you'd be a great father one day." Milo's tiredness was evident as he started to cry again. You bounced him on your hip, feeling an oncoming headache at the back of your head. "Is that really what you want? To have a family with someone who can't even get a baby to stop crying or eat? That doesn't sound like a good father to me." Bucky was looking at you again, and you could tell he felt defeated right from the start.

"It's something you learn. No one starts being a good parent." You didn't know why you were having this argument now, but it seemed a good time as any to try to reassure your boyfriend.

"Well, maybe I don't want to be a father. Did you ever think about that?" Bucky let out a sharp breath. He didn't even know what he was saying now, he was just beyond frustrated. "I just wanted one weekend with my girlfriend, no interruptions." The last word was laced with irritation, the target currently sucking on their thumb in your arms.

"Wow", you quietly mumbled, wanting to continue the fight, but realizing that it really wasn't worth it. If that was how Bucky felt, you would be able to do hell all to change his mind. "Ok, message received. I'm gonna put him down for his nap. Don't worry about helping. You've got your weekend back, go relax." Your tone suggested that Bucky should probably do anything but go relax, but he also didn't think being around you was a good option right now. He was quiet as you walked past him to the bedroom.

****

50 First Dates quietly played on the TV in the background as Bucky laid on the couch, his legs propped up. He flipped the remote in his hand, too distracted to pay attention to what you considered to be your favorite Adam Sandler movie. The only thing he could think about was you.

Bucky never thought he'd live to see the day he wasn't Hydra's weapon, let alone be in a committed relationship with someone he loved more than life itself. He'd had so many dreams about having a family of his own, how beautiful you'd look with your burgeoning belly, the two of you setting up a nursery in the small office he had in his apartment. He wanted a family with you more than anything, but he meant it when he said he didn't think he was cutout for fatherhood. Super soldiers were meant to be just that, soldiers, no matter how hard they tried to assimilate into normal life. He had never seen any of the other Avengers end up with their happily ever after, and he wasn't sure he deserved one at all.

He had just started to drift off to sleep when he heard cries coming from the bedroom as Milo was starting to wake up. "Babe?" He listened intently for you, hearing the shower running. He laid still, hoping that Milo would self-soothe, but Bucky wasn't so lucky.

Bucky sighed as he stood up and walked down the hallway, peaking his head through the bedroom door. "Its okay, Milo. Shhhh." He was careful when picking up Milo, holding him against his chest. He hoped that the baby couldn't feel his heart beating out of his chest. Surprisingly, Milo calmed down as Bucky swayed gently back and forth, resting his head against Bucky as he drifted back to sleep.

"Is everything okay?", you whispered from the doorway, wringing the water from your hair with a towel. Bucky shushed you as he gently laid Milo back down on the bed, surrounding him with pillows so he couldn't roll off. He held his breath for a second when Milo stirred, slowly backing out of the room. You chuckled to yourself as he quietly closed the door.

"What?" Bucky looked down at you as your hands found his broad chest, feeling the contours of his muscles beneath his shirt. You had never been more attracted to him than you were now as you watched him take control of the situation, calming Milo down without any help. Regardless of what he said, you knew he would make a terrific father. You reached behind his neck, raking your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck as you pulled his head toward you, crashing lips. He fell into the kiss, both hands cupping your ass as he lifted you up, carrying you to the couch without ever breaking apart for a breath.

You feel his body weight press into yours as he lays on top of you, leaving you breathless. Bucky is hungry for you know, the kiss becoming sloppy as he pulls your bottom lip between his teeth. You lightly press against his chest to let him know you need a second. He buried his face into your neck as your chest heaved, trying to catch your breath.

"Bucky, I wanna have kids." He groaned against your neck, the vibration making you giggle. "Listen to me, babe." He reluctantly lifted his head to look at you, planting a quick kiss on your lips before you continued. "I want to have kids, and I want them with you. If that's not what you want, I need to know."

Bucky shuffled on the couch so the two of you could sit up. You sat on your haunches, leaning back against the cushions as Bucky shifted in his seat. You rubbed his back, hoping he would open up to you.

"I don't remember Becky as a baby. I would have been 4 or 5 when she was born, so I should have at least a few memories of her, but I don't remember anything." Your heart ached as Bucky talks about his sister. "I don't have a paternal bone in my body. Hydra stole that from me, and as much as I may pretend to play house, it doesn't change who I am."

You grabbed his hand, stroking your thumb over his knuckles. "Who you were." He looked at you, confusion and hurt on his face. "You said "who I am", but its "who you were"." You slumped down against his side, resting your head on his chest and wrapping your arms losely around his waist. Bucky draped his arm over your shoulder, placing a kiss on your temple.

"Bucky, no one gets to take the work that you've done to be a better person away from you. I'm not trying to pretend that your past isn't your past, but that doesn't mean you don't deserve to have a future. You are the only one that I want to spend the rest of my life with, babies and all." You looked up at Bucky when he didn't respond. "What's going on in that suped up head of yours? Talk to me." Bucky chuckled before letting out a soft sigh. "I want kids with you too."

"I want the whole thing; the marriage, the family, the growing "old" together." Bucky let out a sharp breath, feeling a weight lift off his chest. He was scared, terrified of what the future would look like, but when he looked at you, and saw how much love you had in your eyes for him, none of that mattered. He placed a gentle kiss on your lips, his mouth lingering against yours. You cupped his cheek, smiling into the kiss.

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