when I was older (stucky x reader)

13

I hum quietly as I crack open eggs on the side of the apple-colored bowl. Baking is an art that people misunderstand and overlook. Part of the reason I love it so much. Bucky and Steve had to leave for something or other, Tony didn't tell me. I'm not worried about it, I know they can take care of themselves. Nat had picked out a large selection of clothes, in various colors. Me being me, I picked something I knew the boys would like. Black cargo pants tucked into platformed combat boots, belted at my belly button, with a black fitted crop-top. Sexy and comfortable, as well as movable. Easy to hide weapons in. Perfect for someone like me.

I pour some milk and oil into the bowl and start mixing. By hand is best, just because I can't overmix it on accident. I think back to my time with HYDRA, trying to push the wall of my amnesia back. After pouring the mix into its respective pans, I put them into the oven and set the timer. Start making the fondant, melting marshmallows and butter, and mixing in powdered sugar. I finish quickly and start rolling it out. The cakes finish, and I take them out and start assembling them into a single cake, spreading the buttercream on top of the first and putting the second on top. I put the fondant in a bowl and put it in the fridge to chill.

I sit on the couch, and push the wall harder. It gives way a little, and I'm plunged into a memory.

Memory

I'm in a very nice room, most likely a mansion. I'm maybe four or five years old and hiding under a bed. I hear the footsteps of a man, and I feel fear for the younger me until I giggle. The man laughs too.

"I know where you are, little fox." I giggle again, his lilting Sakovian accent close. I squeal as he pulls me from under the bed, and swings me around in the air.

"Daddy! Put me down!" I look down at the smiling man holding me. He looks younger than in his pictures. More carefree. He has a circular face, like mine. His brown hair has very slight ginger hints. I got my height and most looks from my mother, but I got his smile and face shape.

"It's time for dinner, little fox." I giggle and latch onto his leg after he puts me down. He laughs again and holds my hands as he walks, lifting me into the air as he walks me to the kitchen. He sets me down in a chair as a woman comes in and whispers something to my dad. His face changes into one of hurt, anger, and disappointment, but he hides it quickly.

"You're dismissed," he tells the woman. She nods and leaves quickly. He sits down and helps me cut my food.

"Where's mommy?" he pauses, then continues cutting.

"She's not coming home today. She's with some... friends." I nod. Even as a toddler, I could see that he was upset. We ate, joked, and played until it was time for me to go to sleep. He tucks me in and reads me a story. I fall asleep, happy and content. But then, I woke up. I see a familiar face staring down at me. The leader of HYDRA. My mother.

"Get up, we're leaving. I've already packed your bags." She gets up and throws some clothes at me.

"Why? Mommy, what's going on?" she turns back to face me. She smiles coldly.

"Honey, I know this is hard. Your daddy has been doing some very bad things. Things that could hurt us. We need to leave." She picks me up and carries me, taking me away from the parent who truly loved me.

Present

I feel water on my face, so I reach up to find that I'm crying. I get up and take out the fondant and start working it. Pretty quickly it's ready, so I start putting it on the cake. I'm so caught up in my task and my thoughts that I don't notice the boys come into the room. I jump as Steve wraps his arms around me. I sigh and relax into his muscular torso.

"You are going to be the death of me, Steven," I growl. He chuckles in response.

"I doubt that, but alright. I see you've been busy," he hums, gesturing to the cake. I smile and nod, putting the finishing touches on it.

"Yeah. I remembered something when you two were gone," I hum.

"Really? What was it, doll?" I hum as Bucky kisses my neck and laces his fingers with mine.

"A little piece of my childhood. My dad. Zemo." they freeze. "It's not what you think. He's the one who cared. Who was around." I look up at them as they process this information.

"It's good you remember, doll." I rub my hand over Bucky's hand.

"I want to talk to him," I whisper. My mates look at each other and nod.

"Alright, doll. We'll see what we can do."