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buckysouvenir · 5 months

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oh my god, love!!!!! i'm so excited to see how you're gonna develop this relationship

Slipping Through my Fingers (2)

Summary: When a married woman catches the eye of Bucky Barnes, he is determined to stop at nothing to get to know her better.

Rating: Mature

Pairing: 40s Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: None

Word Count: 4.5k

A/N: Not Beta’d. Let me know if you want to be added or removed from the taglist.

Series Masterlist

Previous Chapter

Chapter 2

Summer 1941

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Steve groaned, massaging the sleep from his eyes. He had always been an early riser, so without checking the time, he knew it had to be before sunrise. The knocking became more insistent. Steve would have worried about the noise angering his neighbors had he not thought the person on the other side of the door was in danger. Shoving the thin sheet to his feet, Steve raced to the door. His drowsy state was long gone, adrenaline taking over. The second Steve opened the door, his eyes rolled, taking whatever adrenaline he had built up with them.

“You can't keep randomly showing up here whenever you think Y/N is going to drop by,” Steve complained.

Pillow in hand, Bucky pushed past his shorter friend, entering Steve’s space. The younger man sighed, shutting the door behind him. It had been nearly a year since Bucky met Y/N. Despite his claim to be friends that day, Bucky hardly saw her. Annoyed with Bucky’s constant nagging, Steve accidentally let it slip that her husband was shipped overseas during the colder months. He only had himself to blame for his best friend showing up at all hours of the day.

Bucky fluffed his pillow, tossing it on the worn-in couch across from the door. “Yeah, but this time, I have it on good authority that she will be here,” Bucky casually defended his invasion. Lying on the couch with his arms propped behind his head, he smiled at Steve who was leaning his back against the door. It was the perfect spot to watch the door if she showed up.

Steve crossed his arms, watching his friend get comfortable in his home. If there was one word Steve could use to describe Bucky, it was dedicated. Pushing himself off the door with a backward kick, Steve crossed the room. Stopping at the end of the couch, he asked, “How do you know?”

Bucky’s smile turned into a devilish grin. “I checked your cabinets last time I was here. You’re due for a refill on your medication.”

Steve rolled his eyes. He wasn’t surprised. Bucky always looked after him. If Y/N didn’t bring his medicine, he knew Bucky would find a way to get it.

“Well, if you’re gonna be a watchdog in my home, I expect breakfast when I wake up,” Steve teased, heading the short distance to his bedroom.

When Bucky woke that morning, he started on breakfast. With the war on the rise, prices had been on a steady increase with no signs of stopping anytime soon. Regardless, Steve needed all of the protein he could get. Bucky decided he would work a double shift and replace the eggs he was cooking.

Bucky frowned as he nearly finished breakfast. Steve’s home was small enough to hear any noise inside the house. Steve had yet to make a sound from his bedroom and the thought startled Bucky. Sure, Steve was low on medicine, but he wasn’t empty. Setting the pan on the unlit stove, Bucky stalked toward the bedroom stopping in his tracks when the blonde’s laughter sounded in the opposite direction.

Yanking the front door open, Bucky’s lips parted. Standing next to his best friend was the very woman he had been dreaming of for the past year. Both sets of eyes on the other side of the door were wide, staring back at Bucky. One hand held the door handle; the other caressed the back of his neck as he spoke, “I uh, thought you were still sleeping.”

Steve shrugged. “I woke up early. Walked to get a paper.” He waved the newspaper in his hand. “I ran into Y/N on the way back.” He then waved the brown paper bag filled with his medication in his other hand. He turned to Y/N. “You remember Bucky don’t you.”

Her eyes skimmed Bucky from head to toe before meeting his gaze. “The baseball player, of course. Nice to see you again, Bucky.”

The brunette’s chest puffed up, satisfied she had remembered his performance. Before he could respond, Steve spoke, “Bucky’s just made us breakfast, you’ll join us, won’t you?”

Surprise crossed Y/N’s face. “Oh, I don’t know. I have a lot of things to do.”

“You still have to eat,” Bucky insisted, but he knew she wasn’t convinced. Bucky stepped outside, still towering over the two, but closer. “Look, the truth is, Steve’s not all that great at keeping the conversation going in the morning. He gets crabby in the heat. Sasses me around to the point where he’s got me cooking him breakfast in his home. I'm a hostage here, doll. You’d be doing me a big favor staying for breakfast. He remembers his manners around a pretty face.”

Y/N blushed, staring down at her feet. Had she been staring at either man, she would have noticed the intense stare-off going on, a silent argument.

“I’ll stay, but I really have to leave after we eat.”

Bucky grinned, stepping aside. His left hand extended to the open front door, his right hand froze palm up, an invitation to help Y/N up the small step into the house. She accepted it, missing the tongue Bucky poked out at Steve behind her back.

“No funny business, Buck. I mean it. She’s still married.” Steve warned lowly.

Without saying a word, Bucky waltzed into the house, pulling out a chair for Y/N.

“Oh, thank you,” she squeaked.

Bucky smiled, rushing to plate the food.

Steve deposited his medication in the bathroom cabinet before finding Y/N. Steve slumped into the chair beside her, wasting no time to catch up with his friend. He was also interested in learning about the war overseas. “How’s Harry?”

Her hands folded in her lap. “He’s about as good as any soldier preparing for a war, but he’s right where he wants to be. He’s doing the right thing. He’s protecting his country. Us.”

Her vacant stare told Steve she didn’t believe that. He wondered how much time she spent curating an answer to that question.

Bucky snorted, setting the plates down on the table. “Sounds like a fool to me.” He couldn’t keep the comment from slipping from his lips as he sat across from the most beautiful woman he’s ever laid eyes on. He couldn’t comprehend how a man could willingly leave his new wife behind, especially alone. A yelp escaped Bucky bringing him back to the conversation. Steve’s glare was enough to know who had kicked him. Ignoring Steve, Bucky explained, “All I’m saying is, a man’s duty is to his wife first. Ya’ know? If I was married to someone as gorgeous as you, they’d have to drag me out of here kicking and screaming before I left my wife behind.”

Y/N wanted to scream. She wished Harry felt the way Bucky did.

Noticing Y/N’s fork had been playing with her food, Steve asked, “Are you okay? With Harry being gone this long?” He was genuinely concerned for the woman. He knew what it was like to be alone. He didn’t have any family, and he could count all of his friends by the number of seats occupied at his dinner table. Even when he had no one, he had Bucky.

She sent Steve a soft smile. “I manage. We write to each other, but it can take weeks, sometimes months to get a response. I started to keep a copy of the letters I’ve sent him just so I can remember what we talked about.” Now that she was saying it out loud, she realized how lonely it sounded, how lonely she was. “The girls at the volunteer center are kind, but there’s a lot going on. A lot of people need medicine, and with the war heading this way, resources are going to be harder to get.” She eyes Steve warily. She prayed it wouldn’t come down to that. “We’re all so busy, there isn’t much time to talk. I miss having someone to greet at home.” Her longing stare didn’t go unnoticed by either man.

Steve chewed slowly as the gears turned in his head. Bucky on the other hand was quick to respond. “What about taking care of the house?”

Y/N brushed a strand of her hair behind her ear. “Harry makes sure the bills are paid every month. The neighbor's boy comes by sometimes and gives me a hand around the house, but he’s heading to his grandparents’ house for the summer. I was actually hoping to catch him today before he leaves.”

“Let the kid have his summer. I’ll help you.” Bucky offered, taking the last bite of his eggs.

Y/N cracked a smile in between bites of her food. “Are you sure? I missed the usual spring cleaning. It’s a lot of work. Surely, you’d rather spend your summer playing baseball or hanging out with Steve.”

“And leave a dame to clean her house alone? Absolutely not.” He pointed his fork at her. “You know you have to move the furniture to actually clean, you can’t just clean around it.”

She chuckled, “I’m well aware that you have to move the furniture.”

Bucky grinned leaning forward. “Well believe me when I say I’ll be much more help than a kid.”

He playfully flexed his bicep. “I’m also great company.”

Steve rolled his eyes hard. “You’re also a pain in the-”

“Wow,” Bucky held his hands up. “Forgetting your manners already, Steve?”

“I was going to say neck, but now I’m thinking something else,” Steve grumbled.

Y/N smirked at the banter. “Okay, Bucky. I accept your offer.”

Bucky lost count of how long he had been visiting Y/N. Some days they cleaned, just as Bucky had offered. Other days they became too distracted, laughing over lunch, sometimes even dinner. Those were Bucky’s favorite days. Not that he minded cleaning; he just enjoyed her. Cleaning left too many distractions and talking to Y/N allowed him to focus on her and only her.

Bucky huffed, slamming a cardboard box on the floor. Using the end of his once-white t-shirt, he wiped the sweat from his brow. He had spent most of the afternoon bringing boxes up and down from the attic. It was nearly lunchtime, and he was exhausted. When the shirt slipped from his fingers, he panted, his hands finding a home on his slim hips. His eyes trailed along the window beside him where Y/N stood on the other side staring back at him. Bucky smirked, waving a single hand. She returned his wave with a bright smile. Her other hand clutched an envelope to her chest. Her feet then slammed on the concrete steps as she raced into the house as if she were a child returning home from school to catch the latest program on the radio. Bucky not so gently, despite his best efforts, shut the attic door just in time. Y/N swiftly pushed past him, nearly knocking him on his rear.

“What’s got you all excited?” Bucky asked with a teasing tone. He couldn’t help but quirk an eyebrow as she slammed her hands on the kitchen table.

“I’ve got a letter from Harry!”

Her nimble fingers made quick work at tearing the letter open, but before she could get far, a large hand covered her own. Y/N’s eyes shot to the man standing beside her, ready to give him a piece of her mind. Bucky retracted his hand with a chuckle, revealing a sleek letter opener in his other hand.

“Wouldn’t want to give yourself a papercut. Those things can be nasty.”

Y/N gently took the letter opener from his grasp with a sharp nod. She could feel Bucky’s presence hovering over her shoulder, but she didn’t dwell on it. It’s not every day someone receives a letter from someone overseas. Chalking it up to curiosity, she sliced the letter open.

Bucky grimaced as he watched her eyes scan the letter. Steve was right, she did seem happily married, in love even, but he willingly left her behind. He left her alone. That wasn’t love.

Pinched between her manicured fingers alongside the letter was a black and white photograph. Y/N smiled, showing the photograph to Bucky. “This is Harry.” Bucky studied the man in the picture as Y/N observed Bucky. “I wish you two had met before he left. I think the two of you would have gotten along well.”

Bucky snorted, glaring daggers at the other man’s picture. “Oh yeah, how’s that doll?”

Y/N twirled away from him, reaching for a pen to write her husband back. “I just know.” She sat at the table pen in hand, but her response wasn’t good enough for the brunette. The table pressed into the back of his thighs as he slammed his spread palm on top of the paper.

He peered down at her beside him. “You think or you know?”

Y/N’s forehead creased, her hands attempting to pluck Bucky’s hand off the parchment. “You just remind me of him sometimes. Now can I write to my husband?” Bucky eyed her for a moment, analyzing her words. Silently, he pushed off the table allowing her some privacy.

He found himself wandering to the last box he had brought down from the attic. If she was busy, he’d entertain himself. He dragged the box along the wooden floor into the kitchen. Y/N perked up at the sound of the cardboard grinding against the wood. Bucky could feel her eyes on him as he slumped into the chair across from her, but remained occupied popping the flaps of the box open. Shaking her head, Y/N returned her attention to the letter before her as Bucky rummaged through the box. She didn’t mind. He had gone through nearly all of her stuff at this point.

“You’re a photographer?” he asked, waving a camera around.

Y/N shook her head. “It was a wedding gift. Harry used it mostly. Do you take pictures?”

Bucky nodded. “Occasionally. My parents had one.” He pointed the camera at Y/N. “Steve was the artist, but technology was always fascinating to me. I’m better at pressing buttons.”

Y/N palmed the lens, hiding her face. He was skilled in pressing more buttons than the ones on a camera. Bucky pulled the camera back. Y/N wrinkled her nose. “Harry was always taking pictures of me. Not you too,” she whined.

Bucky laughed, setting the camera on the table. “Anyone with a camera would want to capture your beauty. They’d have to be blind not to.”

Y/N felt heat crawl up her neck at the compliment. Rather than replying, she dipped her head back to the letter she had yet to write. Before the pen could touch the sheet, Bucky let out a low whistle. Her interest shifted back to the man across from her as he pulled a dress from the box. It wasn’t an everyday dress like the ones he’d seen Y/N wearing.

“That’s for dancing,” Y/N offered.

Bucky hummed. “Your husband takes you dancing?”

Y/N twirled the pen in her hand. “He used to.” She paused. “Do you dance Bucky?”

A wolfish grin spread along his face. “You want to find out?” When Y/N didn’t respond, Bucky whispered, “Put on the dress.”

Y/N gasped, the pen slipping from her fingers. “Bucky I-”

Setting the dress on the table between them, he leaned forward. His voice laced with honey, “Let me take you dancing.”

Caught in the sticky sweetness of his voice, Y/N’s own was shaky, “Harry.”

Bucky frowned. “You’re always busy, always volunteering, bringing Steve his medicine, or taking care of the house. When was the last time you did something for yourself? You can’t stop living your life just because Harry isn’t around.”

With a shake of her head, she wanted to protest, but what was she protesting? A dance? A night out with a friend? Fun?

Sensing her hesitation, Bucky added, “It’s just dancing, doll. What’s the worst that could happen?”

“Okay.”

Bucky would have leaped out of his chair if she hadn’t been watching him. He flashed her one of his charming smiles, poking the dress. “But you have to wear this dress.”

Releasing a shaky breath, she replied, “You better be a damn good dancer, James Barnes.”

“You’re taking her dancing?” Steve exclaimed, choking on his milkshake.

Bucky passed him a napkin pinched between his index and middle finger. When Steve gathered himself, Bucky rationalized, “It’s just dancing. No need to get your feathers ruffled.”

Dancing was never just dancing when it came to Bucky. Steve watched as Bucky swept a new woman off her feet while dancing night after night. It didn’t help that his friend was charming. Young or old, it didn’t matter. They all swooned after James Barnes. Steve doubted Y/N would be the exception.

“I know you Bucky. It’s never just dancing.”

Bucky snorted, grabbing a fist full of frenchfries from the basket between them. “Y/N’s different.”

“She is. She’s married. She’s also my only other friend. If you ruin her marriage, I won't have a friend left.” Steve’s mouth was set in a hard line.

The threat in Steve’s tone was loud and clear. Still, Bucky refused to back down. With a hand over his heart, he asked, “What if I’m different?”

Steve let out a loud laugh. “You’re my friend, Buck. I won’t lie to you to stroke your ego.”

Bucky sipped his milkshake with a shrug. “So come with us and see for yourself.”

“You’re inviting me to third wheel on your date? You are different. Maybe I should ask a dame out and see if I’ve changed too,” Steve sassed.

“Come or don’t, it won’t make a difference. It never did before.” It was a low blow, but Bucky was tired of Steve’s lack of faith in him. Just because Steve struggled when it came to the opposite sex, didn’t make Bucky a womanizer. He liked Y/N. She just happened to be married.

The weekend came too soon for Y/N. She hadn’t been dancing since Harry was home. It felt strange to get dressed up to dance with another man. She hadn’t danced with a man since Harry. She pondered if he was dancing with the women overseas. Her eyes drifted to the photograph lodged in the side of the mirror on her dresser.

“Y/N?”

Y/N hurriedly emerged from her bedroom and made her way to the living room where Bucky was waiting. He looked dashing in his well-tailored suit and his hair was neatly slicked back. Despite being a married woman, Y/N couldn't help but notice Bucky's striking good looks. She couldn't deny the fact that he was an attractive man.

“Well, don't you clean up nice,” she teased.

Bucky smirked, circling a pointed finger. “Give me a spin. I wanna get a good look at this dress you kept hidden away.”

Y/N whirled around, her skirt fluffing out in the process. When she stopped facing Bucky, he shook his head. Grasping her hand to turn her slowly. When he let go, he released an appreciative sigh. “Looks even better on you.”

Y/N’s hands fumbled with the skirt as she avoided Bucky’s eyes. Noticing her embarrassment, Bucky announced, “Steve is picking up a date. They’re going to meet us there.”

“Oh.” The surprise in her voice was evident. It was just dancing, she reminded herself. Steve wouldn’t be joining them if it was a date. Steve had a date though. Y/N’s mind whirled wondering if she had unknowingly agreed to a date. “I didn’t know Steve dated.”

Bucky led Y/N onto the street where they walked side by side to the dance hall down the street. He didn’t want to embarrass Steve in front of Y/N. He had found Steve a date, but Y/N didn’t need to know that. “Steve doesn’t mind dancing with a pretty face after a long week. Can’t find a man around who would complain about that.”

A laugh escaped Y/N. She knew his statement to be true after many nights dancing with Harry. It didn’t matter if she arrived with a gentleman, they all wanted to dance.

A poster in one of the shops caught her eye. Bucky slowed to a stop, allowing her time to look.

“She’s gorgeous,” Y/N breathed.

Bucky eyed the scantily clad pin-up model. He enjoyed the image as much as the next guy, but he wouldn't express that to the woman he was pursuing. So, he did the only other thing he could think of, he rationalized it. “They’re putting all kinds of pictures up like this. Men have been buying them up like crazy before joining the war.”

Y/N flinched; her eyes trained on the model. Did Harry buy one? She cocked her head, “Would you buy her picture, Bucky?”

He bit his lip, rapidly shaking his head, “Don’t need to. I’m going dancing with the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

Y/N faced him with her hands on her hips. “Don’t give me that. I want an honest answer.”

Bucky made an imaginary cross with his pointer finger over his heart. “Honest, I swear.”

Y/N bit her lip peeking back at the model. “You really think I’m prettier than her?” If she was more attractive, then perhaps her husband hadn't bought the stranger's picture.

Bucky bent his knees and threw his head back dramatically. “Any man would kill to have a poster of you on their wall.” Then he wrapped his arm around her shoulder, tugging her toward the dance hall.

Bucky’s words danced around her head. If men were buying up pictures of a woman they’d only ever seen through a camera lens, then why couldn’t she send her husband one? He had sent her a picture of himself.

“Bucky,” Y/N called, catching his attention, “How good are you with a camera?”

Bucky shrugged, “Good enough. I used to-”

That was good enough for Y/N. She interrupted him, “I want you to take my picture.”

He side-eyed her, “You didn't want me taking your picture the other day.”

Y/N shook her head, pointing her finger to the poster behind them. “I want you to take my picture like that.”

Bucky almost tripped over his own feet. They stopped outside of the dance hall. Steve stood along the wall with a short redhead. One look at Steve and Bucky knew he had spotted them. Steve frantically waved them over, his date uninterested.

Bucky grabbed Y/N’s bicep as she inched toward Steve. “Hold on.” He didn’t question her motive, but he needed her to be sure. “Are you sure?”

Y/N grinned up at Bucky. “I thought you said any man would kill to have my picture on their wall?”

He did say that, but he hadn’t expected the outcome. “Yes, but-” A finger pressed to his lips silencing him.

“Let’s have a nice night and we’ll talk about it later. You have yet to prove you can dance.”

Bucky laced his hand with the hand she had pressed to his lips seconds ago. “Well, what are we waiting for?”

Y/N and Bucky had a great night at the dance hall. Even though Steve’s date left with another man, he had fun as well. Bucky had been an exceptional dancer. Steve, not so much. He had stepped on Y/N’s feet all night, even when they weren’t dancing. Steve was a good sport and laughed it off.

Bucky hadn’t forgotten Y/N’s request before the dance and neither had Y/N. Over the week, Y/N explained she wanted to take pictures for her husband. By the end of the week, Bucky stood awkwardly in Y/N’s living room, camera in hand.

Rubbing the back of his neck, Bucky asked, “So, where do you want to do this?”

Y/N’s bare feet padded along the floor, leading Bucky to her bedroom. Taking in her robe-covered figure, Bucky cursed Harry for meeting her first.

Y/N plopped on the bed. “Is this good?”

Bucky bit his lip and sent her a nod. Y/N unknotted her robe letting it pool on the bed behind her. Bucky averted his eyes to check the film. “There's only enough film for 8 shots.”

“Do you want to take a test shot?” Y/N asked.

Wordlessly, he pointed the camera at her catching her off guard as he took the picture.

Y/N’s eyes widened as the flash went off, blinding her momentarily. She quickly regained her composure and scowled at Bucky. “You were supposed to tell me when you were ready,” she said, her frustration evident in her voice.

Bucky shrugged, “It was just a test shot. The camera still works.”

Y/N huffed falling back on her elbows. “You’re a guy, what should I do?”

Filthy thoughts invaded his head, but he pushed them away. “I don’t know. You’re already beautiful; the camera will pick it up. Just be yourself.”

Y/N kneeled on the bed to be level with Bucky. The flash went off. Y/N pouted. “I wasn’t ready.”

Bucky mentally disagreed. She trusted him to take her pictures. He hadn’t lied when he said she was beautiful. It was the candid shots that were alluring to him. Caught in action, turned the photo from a picture to a video. If Steve knew what he was doing, he would lose his mind.

Y/N crossed her legs, letting them dangle off the edge of the bed as she shoved the skirt of her silk nightgown to her ankles.

“Up.”

Y/N wavered, eyeing Bucky. “What?”

“Pull the nightgown up,” Bucky suggested.

Her hands hesitantly dragged the bottom of the nightgown up, exposing her calves. “Like this?” She peeked at Bucky when the skirt passed her knee.

Flash.

Bucky couldn’t deny the thrill that rushed through him. He had seen her legs plenty of times in dresses she wore, but there was something more intimate in her revealing her legs to him. The intimacy of the two of them alone in her bedroom only added fuel to the fire.

“What would you like to receive from your wife if you were in the war?”

Bucky shoved her bare shoulder gently, propelling her back to hit the mattress. The strap of her nightgown slipped. Her hand moved to fix it. Bucky hovered over her to grab her wrist. His large hand glided her hand between her breasts. “Leave it.”

Flash.

Y/N imagined the images would be lewder than the pin-up poster she saw, but she preened under Bucky’s attention. Maybe she was starved for attention since Harry left, but she did this for her husband. She just hoped Bucky was right and her husband would appreciate the photos.

Chapter 3

Taglist: @yeahright0h @buckysouvenir @cloudykoookie

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buckysouvenir · 6 months

Text

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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