Little Secrets, Little Bucky

Asking For Help

Bucky was exhausted. It had been a week since he'd found out about Sarkissian's presence on the Hydra base the team was going to raid. That meant it had been a week of barely eating. A week of barely sleeping. A week of looking over his shoulder. A week of feeling like disaster could strike at any moment. To make matters worse, he hadn't been little in a week and a half. Sarkissian's words had buried themselves into his head again and he hadn't been able to muster up the courage to seek Y/n out. She'd offered a few times, but every time he declined, knowing how much work it would be when she finally got him to slip.

But now he was getting desperate. If he didn't get to rest soon he thought he might just go insane. He and Y/n both had the day off and he'd been up since 4:00 getting up the courage to ask her for help. It was 7:30 now and he made his way over to the communal kitchen, where Y/n had just finished her breakfast. "Are you busy today?" He mumbled as she put her plate in the sink.

But she didn't hear what he said over the sound of her plate banging against the metal of the sink. "Hmm?" She hummed, turning around.

Bucky cursed his bad timing as he stared down at the floor. "Are you busy today?" Louder this time, but still unsteady.

"No, not really." She answered, taking a seat at the countertop. "Why?"

He took a deep breath, preparing himself to ask. 'You need this,' he reminded himself, 'she wants to take care of you, you just haven't been letting her.' "Would it be ok with you if I, uh, if I was, well..." Bucky trailed off, nerves taking over. 'God, just spit it out!' He thought. He looked up at Y/n, who gave him a warm smile, and found a new wave of courage. "Can I be little today?" He asked quickly before he could back out.

Internally, Y/n was screaming with joy. Bucky very rarely came to her first when he needed little time and he had never asked for it out loud before. She kept up a calm facade, not wanting to spook him, and stood up from her seat. "Of course you can be little," she said, "Why don't you go get in the shower?"

Bucky nodded, eyes shining, and disappeared into her suite. She followed him a few moments later and went to her dresser to get him an outfit. She'd bought him more clothes in the last week and a half, including a few onesies. She thought he might like to try them out now that he had accepted the whole baby thing. She grabbed a gray one with darker gray hearts on it and a pair of navy joggers. She saw a pair of yellow socks with grips on the bottom and grabbed those too, along with a pacifier clip she'd bought at the store a few days ago. Bucky kept dropping his pacis everywhere and would start crying when he couldn't find them. This would hopefully solve that issue.

She left the clothes on the bathroom counter and went to her kitchen, intending on filling a sippy cup for Bucky, when she heard him calling for her. He wasn't little yet, so she was confused on why he would need her help, but went to him nonetheless. She had to fight everything in her not to laugh at the sight in front of her. He was standing there in his sweatpants, trying to figure out the onesie. The front and back snaps that were meant to go between his legs were hanging down as he looked in the mirror, wholeheartedly confused. He looked at her helplessly when he heard her come into the bathroom and she fought to keep a straight face as she spoke.

"You have to put the onesie on before you put your pants on, Buck," she said, "I thought you had four little sisters?"

"We didn't have stuff like this back then, okay? Babies just wore smaller versions of kid clothes." A quick question to Jarvis confirmed that onesies like the one he was attempting to put on weren't invented until the mid fifties, long after Bucky or his sisters were babies.

"Do you need help putting it on?" Y/n asked patiently after watching him struggle with the snaps for a little bit.

Bucky flushed red, but nodded, moving his hands so that she could kneel down and snap his onesie shut. He got his socks and pants on, but hesitated at the pacifier clip. He looked to Y/n for help and she took it from the counter, clipping it to the neck of his onesie and attaching it to a dark blue pacifier that she pulled from her pocket. She gestured for him to sit down and began combing through his hair, patiently working through any knots while he relaxed. Once his hair was properly detangled she picked him up and took him to the living room where his blankie was waiting on the couch.