#well I guess I can say that the titles aren't in italian for nothing (live audience laugh) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

tuiccim · 5 years ago

Text

Santi (Part 2)

Pairing: Bucky X Reader

Words: 4430

Warnings: Fluff, flirt,

Summary: The team leaves for a mission leaving you and Bucky alone at the tower.

Santi Masterlist

After bidding the team goodbye the next morning you and Bucky head to the kitchen for breakfast.

"How was your first night in the new place?"

"Good. Slept okay. How'd you sleep?"

"I have a hard time getting to sleep any given day but once I did last night I was good."

In the kitchen you pull out a frozen breakfast burrito to heat and grab an apple and peanut butter. Bucky fixes a huge bowl of cereal.

"Why aren't you on the mission?" Bucky asks.

"You want the official answer or the truth?" You ask.

"The truth, always."

"Steve didn't want you to be alone so he asked me to stay."

"You were okay with that?"

"Well, you know, my 'particular skills are not needed for this mission'" You say imitating Steve.

"You don't mind being my babysitter?"

"Well, first, I'm not your babysitter. You're a big boy and can wipe your butt all by yourself. Second, I don't mind having some time to take it easy. It's usually hard to come by. And, lastly, the rest of the team has worked with you before. I like that it gives me the chance to get to know you. Not the file or news reports or rumors, but you as a person." Bucky seems taken aback by your answer. "You said you wanted the truth, always." You smile and Bucky seems to relax a bit.

"Thanks." He pauses for a minute but then smirks, "Wipe my own butt? You always had that mouth on ya?"

"All my life." You smile at him.

"Apple and peanut butter?" Bucky asks as he watches you eat.

"It's delicious!" You pick up a fresh slice, scoop some peanut butter onto it. Leaning over the table you hold it up for Bucky to take a bite. "Try it." He eyes you as he bites into the slice you are holding out to him.

"Okay. Weird but good "

You giggle at his expression and pop the other half into your mouth.

"Are you always happy like this? You always seem to be on the verge of laughing." He asks suddenly.

"No. But, I don't know, I guess I've had the privilege of living my life unlike you and Steve. It's given me the time to work through things, figure out what makes me happy. I guess I've just lived long enough to learn contentment. And I think that's the basis of happiness."

"Lived long enough? You're what? 25? 30?"

Your face falls. "You haven't read my file."

"No."

"Have you read any of them?"

"No. It feels... invasive. Like I'm prying."

"It's not. It's just basics. Nothing overly personal. Abilities. Skills. Things you need to know in the field." You say emphatically. "For example, let's say we're on a mission. I get shot. Femoral artery hit. Bleeding out. What do you do?"

"Apply a tourniquet. Determine if I can complete the mission without you dying."

"Wrong. You just wasted time and possibly cost us the mission. You do nothing. I don't need medical attention." You take a deep breath, "I'm a Gifted. I have healing abilities. My body will force out the bullet and the wound will be repaired within 90 seconds. Blood supply restored in minutes. You and Steve heal fast but I put your abilities to shame there."

"Do you have any other abilities?"

"Additional strength, not your level but decent. Increased metabolism. Slow aging." You pause and look directly into his eyes, "And empathic telepathy."

"Like Wanda?"

"Wanda's a little different. She's more telepathic in the sense of reading minds and forcing waking dreams. My ability allows me, if I choose to, read people's emotions. And I can imbue people with emotions."

"Force them to feel things?"

"Ye...yes." You say hesitantly and then look him directly in the eyes, "Look, I have read your file and I know you've had your mind messed with enough. I will never, NEVER do that to you without your consent. Never."

You stare at each other for a moment before Bucky gives a slight nod.

"Is it helpful?"

"My specialty was deep cover. Being able to force trust, calm, caring. It makes getting to the inner circles easier. But after doing it for so long I had to get out. I was other people so much I started to lose myself. So, I told Fury that I wanted out. And then the world blew up and I ended up right back in the middle of it. I think I'm where I'm supposed to be now."

"How do you do it?"

"I just think it and I kinda push it to the other person. It's even easier when I'm touching them. If a person can somehow resist me mentally, once I touch them the resistance fades."

"What all can you make them feel?"

"Any emotion. Several if needed."

"Fear? Panic?"

"Yes."

"Pain?"

"Emotional pain, yes."

"Love?"

"Yes."

"Pleasure?"

You look at Bucky and raise an eyebrow at that one before replying in a low voice, "Yes."

"Have you done it to me?"

Voice strong again, "No. Never without your permission."

"Our teammates?"

"Only with their consent. Most people want to try it at least once."

"I have nightmares sometimes." Bucky says quietly.

"Yeah." Your tone softens.

"Could you calm me if that was happening?"

"I can, yes. I can also help you sleep. Do you want me to?"

Bucky stares into his bowl of cereal for a moment. When his eyes flicker up to you there is a tinge of red to them. He gives a slight nod. Reaching over you curl your hand around his wrist. "You're my teammate, my friend. I'll do anything I can to help you. Anything, okay?"

Bucky gives a small nod.

"Okay. Time to get some training in. Don't want Steve to think I'm slacking the first day without him." You start clearing your breakfast dishes.

"He's a real drill sergeant, huh?"

"Sometimes."

"Wait, how old are you? I take it, older than 25."

You laugh, "That's sweet, Buck. I'm 62."

"So Sam was including you in his geriatric patients?"

"I think you have to be over 65 to be in that category. You and Steve are still the geezers of the place." You smirk at him. "I'll catch up with you later."

"I'll see you in the training room in a bit."

"Sounds good." You say as you walk to the elevator. Your heart hurts a little for Bucky knowing it had to be hard for him to ask for help. You hope he knows how strong he is, how brave to ask.

Before Bucky heads to the training room he detours to his room. Going to the desk he pulls out the stack of files Steve had given him and quickly located Santi's. Flipping it open he read:

Name: Bella Santi Delarosa

Last known address: Stark Tower

Date of Birth: November 1, 1957

Place of Birth: Mobile, Alabama

Status: Active

Title: Agent

Aliases: The Saint, Lucia Roman, Marie Frances, Eve Lastra, Elana Romano.

Document Citizenship: United States

Height: 5'8"

Weight: 140 lbs

Gender: Female

Hair: Black

Eyes: Brown

Languages: English, Spanish, French, Italian, Russian, Portuguese, German.

Identifiable Markings: Triangle shaped birthmark right shoulder.

Family: Parents, Marco and Giulia Delarosa, deceased. Brother, Luca Delarosa, deceased.

Classification: Gifted

Abilities: Healing. Increased strength, stamina, reflexes, balance, and accuracy. Decreased aging. Empathic telepathy.

Skills: Multiple forms of Martial arts, acrobatics, expert marksmanship, espionage, infiltration, tactical coordination.

Bucky closes the file and heads to the training room. He spots Santi lifting weights and joins her. "So, 'The Saint', huh?"

You laugh, "You read my file?"

"Yeah."

"That's what you took away from it? My code name?"

"Bella Santi Delarosa. Beautiful Saint of the Rose?"

"I was born on All Saints Day. My parents were Catholic." You shrug. "Any other questions?"

"I noticed the slight southern accent so Alabama made sense. Did you grow up there?"

"Until I was 13."

He wanted to ask what happened but knew it wasn't the right time to get into it. Deciding on a subject change, "Expert marksman?"

"You bet your ass."

"I was gonna bet lunch, actually."

"Knives or guns?"

"Knives."

"Yay!" You clap your hands as you move to the weapons cage to pull out knives. "Let's start with a target and we'll see if we need to get to trick shots to determine a winner."

Bucky glances at the body shaped training target at the end of the range, picks up a knife, and says "Right eye." The blade finds its mark with barely a glance.

"Left eye." Hit.

"Left shoulder." Hit.

"Right shoulder." Hit

"Center mass." Hit.

"Same." Hit within millimeters of his knife.

"Nose." Hit.

"Mouth." Hit.

Getting an idea you move in a bit closer as he says "Forehead" and aims. As he's preparing to throw you reach on tiptoe and blow in his ear. The knife hits the target's groin.

"I'm sorry. Did you say forehead or foreskin? If it was forehead, you were a little low on that one, weren't you?" You say still right next to Bucky's ear. Bucky turns eyes wide and swallows hard. You smile innocently up at him.

"Wouldn't you call that cheating?" Bucky's voice is gravelly as he stared down at you.

"I'd call it winning. After all, out in the field there's all kinds of distractions. You have to get used to them." You say in mock innocence with a sweet smile.

Bucky tries to keep a straight face but a chuckle slips through. "Fine. I'll give you this one, Doll."

"I accept your defeat. There is this great diner right by the Museum of Natural History. They have phenomenal burgers and then we can go to the museum."

"I thought the bet was for lunch."

"Well, I figured I'd take you to the museum as a consolation prize. After all, I did cheat."

"I'm not taking you away from any plans?"

"Those were my plans. Now, you get to pay for lunch though."

Bucky laughed and his heart warmed a little at the thought that you had planned out the day with him.

"Let's finish training and then we can get ready to head out." You say heading back to the weights.

Three hours later, you arrive at the diner and both order burgers and fries.

"Can I ask you something? Personal?" Bucky asks, glancing at you nervously.

"Anything. I'm kind of an open book. Which is unusual in this group."

"Yeah." Bucky says on a short laugh "What happened to your family?"

You knew it was coming at some point. "You want the short or long version?"

"Long if you're comfortable with telling it."

"Yeah." You pause to collect your thoughts. "You read my file so you know I grew up in Mobile, Alabama. My parents were Marco and Guilia and I had a brother named Luca. He was two years younger than me. My parents wanted more kids but it just didn't happen. We were a big Italian family. Steve always says he knows I'm Italian because I'm loud, always eating, and am touchy-feely."

Bucky laughs "Sounds right. You've never shied away from touching me."

"Sorry." You say feeling a slight blush creep up. "Please let me know if I make you uncomfortable. I just don't think about it much."

"No, I like it. Most people don't get very close to me. Keep going"

You smile blushing a little more but continue with the story. "My grandparents, my dad's parents, had a bakery. Most of the family worked there. I loved it. I had 8 aunts and uncles, a million cousins. Big, big family. Nice life, ya know. Lots of love and lots of drama. Then when I was thirteen, we were driving home from my cousin's birthday party and our car was hit by an 18-wheeler. My parents died on impact. Luca…" you pause and swallow hard willing the tears away. Clearing your throat you continued, "Luca died while they were trying to get us out of the car. He was such a sweet kid. Tender-hearted and quiet. I should have died too. My injuries were severe but that's when my mutation kicked in. Before they even got me out of the car my injuries healed. I didn't understand what happened. The doctor explained the mutant gene while I was in the hospital. I was so wracked with guilt that I lived. I didn't want to hear anything about it. Then my family… they were scared of me. I could feel it. They turned me over to the state. They didn't want anything to do with me. I was put in a group home and first chance I got I ran. Ran for nine years before SHIELD found me. They took me in. Taught me that my mutation was a calling not a curse."

The food came at that point and you both dug in hungrily. Bucky looked up after a few bites. "What'd you do the nine years you were running?"

"Petty theft, lot of trespassing, might have been a grand theft auto somewhere in there, and then I joined the circus."

Bucky laughed, "Serious?"

"Yeah. I got a job helping set up and take down for a circus and when they left I kinda stowed away and they let me stay. I grew up dancing and doing gymnastics, so they taught me aerial silks and rope tricks. I ran errands, took care of the animals, cooked, and eventually even performed."

Bucky narrows his eyes at you, "You're pulling my leg."

"No. It was the 70s. I'll show you some pictures when we get back."

"What exactly are aerial silks?"

"They're sheets of silk you use to perform contortions while kinda flying in the air. I'll show you one day. I still love doing it." Bucky still looked skeptical. "What?" You finally ask when his face was still scrunched up.

"You really have pictures?"

"Yes. Tell me about when you and Steve were kids." Trying to get the subject off of you for a minute.

You looked across at Bucky and saw a genuine smile on his face for a moment. He launched into a story and was more animated than you had seen before. It was endearing the way his face lit up talking about pre-serum Steve and their antics. He looked young and happy for a few minutes.

The spell was broken when the waiter delivered the check. Staying true to the bet, Bucky paid and then you walked to the museum a block away. You had already purchased the tickets online and went right in. It was only 12:30 and it seemed to be a slow Tuesday as you were nearly alone in every exhibit. Bucky was enthralled. He went from display to display pointing out observations, wondering at the discoveries, and fascinated with the history. Sometimes even grabbing your hand to follow him. You were enthralled by him. It seemed like for a few hours the weight lifted from his shoulders.

You stay at the museum until closing and then head back to the tower. Bucky talks nearly the entire way back about the museum exhibits. You thought your heart would burst that your outing made him so happy.

Heading to the kitchen you look in the fridge. "What do you want for dinner?"

"You pick."

"If I pick, we're ordering pizza."

"Sounds good to me. What movie do you want to watch?"

"You're not sick of me yet?" You smile, amazed that he wanted to spend more time with you.

"No! I mean, you don't have to watch a movie with me. I just thought, ya know, pizza and a movie. You had, uh, mentioned the Star Trek movie yesterday, so I thought maybe..." He trailed off.

"Sounds good to me." You echoed his earlier sentiment and he smiled at you.

You sat on the couch eating pizza and watching the movie. After a while you ended up shifting to lean into Bucky and rest your head on his shoulder.

"You okay?" He asks.

"A little cold. I'm sorry, am I making you uncomfortable?" You say, moving away a little. He doesn't answer. Instead he grabs his hoodie and drapes it and his arm over you giving a little squeeze. You snuggle into him. It's a little harder to concentrate on the movie enveloped by his warmth and smell.

After the movie was over, Bucky looked over at you, "Tired?"

"No, not really. You?"

"No."

"What'd you think of the movie?"

"It was interesting. I'd like to see the next one. Right now, I'm interested in seeing some pictures someone told me they have."

"Oh, yeah. Let's go to my room and I'll find them." You stand and stretch your arms over your head bowing your back. When you look at Bucky still sitting on the couch his eyes aren't quite on your face. You clear your throat ostensibly and his eyes snap up to yours while his cheeks gain a little pink tinge. "Come on, Buck." You turn away smiling to yourself.

You get to your room and find the photo album with pictures from the Seventies in it. Placing it on the bed in front of both of you, you skip the first few pages and flip until you find pictures from the circus. They're starting to fade with age, but there you are riding an elephant, another showing you contorted in the silks, one where you are surrounded by clowns, cooking in a tent, and a few more showing your circus life.

"You weren't kidding!"

"Of course not! It was actually a pretty fun time in my life. It was easier being accepted there. Once I got past being first of May."

"First of May?"

"Green. New. Takes awhile for circus folk to warm up but they're good to you once they do. They were like a big family."

"Why'd you decide to leave?"

"SHIELD. They could help me learn to control my powers. And to be able to use them for something good."

"What are these other pictures?" Bucky asks as he flips back to the beginning of the album.

"Oh!" You say in surprise. You reach for the album but Bucky is already looking at the pictures. Resignedly, you explain, "That was the last family portrait we took."

Bucky looks up at you sorrowfully, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have." He goes to hand you back the album.

"No, it's okay. It's been a long time since I looked at them." You point to the next photo. "That was my grandparents 50th wedding anniversary."

"Is that the entire town of Mobile?

"No, that's just my grandparents, their kids, and all my first cousins."

"First cousins?!?"

"Yeah, they were prolific. What can I say? My parents were picked on because they only had two of us."

"How old are you here?" He points to a picture of you holding a stuffed bunny.

"Three, I think." The next picture is you holding a baby Luca. You reach out and touch his little cherub cheeks but only feel the cold plastic covering the photo.

"You miss him?"

"Yeah. I guess you never stop. Losing a sibling sucks, ya know? They're the ones that are supposed to be with you through it all. You expect grandparents and parents to die, but your siblings are supposed to be there. Do you?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I miss Rebecca."

"Sorry. I shouldn't have brought that up."

"No, it's okay. But I probably should get some sleep."

"Yeah."

Bucky gets up and puts the album back on your shelf. "Night, Santi."

"Night, Bucky." You say in a small voice.

"Hey." He waits until you look up at him. "You okay?"

You force a smile, "Yeah, I'm good."

He hesitates, studying you.

Finally, you give in to yourself. "Actually, can I have a hug?"

"Absolutely!" He walks over to you taking your hand and pulling you up before wrapping his arms around you. You put your arms around his waist and your head on his shoulder. After a minute you feel a soft kiss pressed to your forehead. "Sweet dreams, Doll."

"You, too." You say as you reluctantly let go. You change into a sleepshirt and get ready for bed. Knowing sleep won't come for a while you pick up a book.

A couple of hours later you feel your stomach twist in knots and a loud grunt issues through the wall followed by "NO!" Getting up quickly you knock on Bucky's door, "Bucky, are you okay?" You listen for a second but only hear another grunt. You knock again, "Bucky?" You say a little louder.

"Стоп!" Hearing the Russian word from Bucky made your decision. You turn the knob and walk in. Bucky is thrashing a bit on the bed. His right hand is clenched around the sheets.

"Bucky, wake up. Hey. Come on, Buck." You put a knee on the bed and lean over to shake Bucky. The moment you touch his shoulder he sits up. The knife in his left hand lands with a thunk in your side. You hiss at the pain but stay still. "Buck. Bucky, hey." His eyes are far away and you know he hasn't come out of it yet. You put your right hand over his hand gripping the knife and your left on his shoulder suffusing calm into him. "Buck, I'm calming you. You said it was okay. Look at me, darlin'. Hey, hey." You see his eyes begin to focus. Finally, he looks at you. "Good. Hey, love, I need you to let go, okay?" You gently nudge his left hand which is still firmly holding the knife in you. You see him glance down and panic blanches his face. Suffusing calm again you take your left hand and touch his face drawing his attention to yours. "I'm okay. I just need you to let go. Bucky, talk to me."

"I'm so sorry!" Comes out in a panicked whisper as he lets go.

"Bucky, I'm fine. Healing ability, remember?" You gather the ends of your shirt and brace to pull out the knife. "Mmmm...had to be a serrated one, huh?" You press the shirt to the wound to staunch the blood flow and look at Bucky. He looks shattered. "Bucky, everything's okay."

"I stabbed you." He whispers.

"Better me than anyone else." You give a humorless little laugh. You wipe the knife on part of your shirt and set it down on the nightstand.

"I stabbed you."

"90 seconds, Bucky. 90 seconds and I'll be healed. No harm, no foul."

"I stabbed you and you're laughing." He looks at you incredulously.

"What's a little stab wound between friends?" You smile but he still looks lost. "Bucky, another empathic part is I can let you feel how I'm feeling. Can I show you?"

He nods and you put a hand on his. "What do you feel?"

He looks in your eyes finally, "Calm. Caring. Worry for me."

"Exactly. I'm fine. Now, are you okay? You were having a nightmare."

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm okay." You pull him into a hug keeping your bloody side away from him. He puts his right arm around you and runs his left hand up your arm to your neck. Pulling away he looks into your eyes, glances down to your lips, and then back with an almost questioning look. It doesn't take empathic ability to know what he's feeling and your heart twists a little. You raise up a bit and kiss his forehead like he did for you earlier that night.

"I'm gonna get cleaned up. Can I borrow a shirt?" You stand up and that's when Bucky notices you had bunched your shirt up to stem the wound exposing your legs and a pair of peach colored panties.

Tearing his eyes away he stands up quickly and pulls open a drawer. "Yeah, here, Doll."

You look in the drawer and pull out a black ribbed tank from the top. "This will work." You say as you head into his bathroom.

Bucky watches you walk away thinking with the peach colored underwear it almost looked like you weren't wearing anything down below. He shook the thought away. Nice, Buck, you stab her and then ogle her, he thinks to himself.

You take off the shirt you are wearing and grab a cloth to clean off the blood. After washing your hands you slip on the tank. It comes down just past your butt and almost looks like a dress on you. A very short dress. Staring at yourself in the mirror for a second you can't deny the feelings developing in you. Bucky is...you can't even describe it. Beautiful inside and out. But too often your empathic abilities had interfered with real feelings. You had wanted to kiss him in that moment but the emotional charge was too much. What if that's all it was? The heat of the moment? It was too soon. You'd known him for less than 48 hours. Sighing, you shake off your thoughts and walk back out. Bucky eyes you from where he is sitting on the bed.

"You okay?" He asks.

"Yes. See? No harm, no foul." You lift the tank up to show him.

He raises his left arm and touches your side. The cool touch from his metal hand breaks your skin into goosebumps. You cover his hands with yours and for a moment get lost in his eyes when he looks up at you.

Breaking eye contact you pull the shirt back down, saying softly "It's late. You should go back to sleep."

"I don't think I can." He says.

You sit next to him on the bed. "Lay down. Get comfortable. I'll help you."

He lays on his side and hugs his pillow. Running your hands through his hair, you suffuse calm and see the tension slip away a bit. Giving him a minute before suffusing lethargy, you watch as his muscles start to relax. Finally, you suffuse a sleepy feeling. You can't force sleep but have found that when these three feelings combine they make a fairly good sleep cocktail. Bucky's form slowly relaxes and you continue to run your hands through his hair suffusing the sleepy feeling until his breathing evens out. You retrieve your ruined shirt and bloody cloth from the bathroom and the knife from the nightstand. You don't want him to have any reminders when he wakes. Switching off his lamp, you reluctantly head to your own bed.

Part 3

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