#dad bucky barnes

[hurtspideyparker]

Yelena's new child vs. Bucky's new children

[knowledgeableknitter]

Alpine Felt Her

Thursdays with Alpine: A series.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x you (afab)

Word Count: <500

Summary: Bucky feels the baby kick.

Trigger Warnings: Baby kicks?

Author’s Note: Alpine is like a little early warning system.

Series Masterlist

Blog Masterlist

Previously: Alpine's Promise

It was a quiet evening, where the world felt like it had slowed down just for the three of you. The lights were low, a warm golden glow filling the living room. You were curled sideways on the couch, one leg tucked up, one hand on your belly, the other absentmindedly stroking Alpine where she lay stretched out across your hips like a fur-covered heating pad.

Bucky sat at the other end of the couch with a forgotten book in his lap, watching instead of reading.

“You know you’re staring, right?” you asked, eyes half-lidded, voice wrapped in a smile.

“I know,” he murmured. “Can’t help it.”

Alpine let out a long sigh and repositioned herself, draping one paw over the slight curve of your belly like she was protecting it. Her ears twitched suddenly, sharp and alert, as if she’d heard something beneath your skin.

Bucky noticed.

“Did she—?”

“Not yet,” you said, but the words had barely left your mouth before you felt it. A quick, undeniable nudge from inside, not just fluttery this time, but solid and real.

Your eyes widened as your hand pressed gently to the spot. “That was her. Come feel!”

Bucky was already moving, setting the book aside and scooting closer. You grabbing his wrist and placed his palm over your stomach, right beside Alpine’s paw.

He stilled.

A second passed. Then another.

And then: another kick.

Bucky’s breath hitched.

He blinked down at your belly like it had just spoken to him in a language only he understood. “She kicked,” he said, barely above a whisper. “She actually—”

“She did,” you whispered back.

His hand stayed, fingers splayed wide. Alpine turned her head lazily toward him, blinking once before resting her chin on your belly like she’d known all along.

Bucky chuckled, low and soft. “You felt her already, didn’t you?”

Alpine didn’t respond but her purr deepened like the moment finally had her approval.

Bucky leaned in, kissing the spot just below his hand, his voice reverent. “Hi there, baby girl. Took you long enough to say hi to Daddy.”

You swallowed the lump rising in your throat as your fingers reached for his hair, and in that perfect stillness, everything just settled.

You, Bucky, the baby, and the cat.

And the feeling that somehow, all of this had been written long before it ever began.

Next:

Tag list: @lovely-seb @calwitch @its-in-the-woods @ficmeiguess @yesiamthatwierd @kitasownworld @sensuouscactus @cyacola @justalittle47 @bunniotomia @mayal0pez @star-yawnznn @bartonsparrow25 @globetrotter28 @sebastians-love @emmathefanficgal @equallyspicylocket @daiseymaisy @thelastbluecookie @daydreamgoddess14 @ria132love @vurelliex @ozwriterchick @muchwita @mrsnikstan @mrs-maximoff-kenner

[kitty384]

In His Arms, Everything's Safe

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You come home to the quietest, most beautiful moment: Bucky slow-dancing with your baby daughter in the kitchen, reminding you that in his arms, everything really is safe.

Warnings: Fluff, domestic softness, parenthood, tears of the happy variety, gentle vintage vibes

The house is quiet.

That’s the first thing I notice when I step inside—no crying, no cartoons, no clattering dishes or tiny sock-covered feet sprinting across the hardwood.

Just soft music.

Something familiar. Old. Grainy vocals and piano gently slipping through the air like the house itself is humming.

I set the grocery bag down quietly on the counter.

And then I hear it:

Bucky’s voice. Low. Gentle. Humming along.

Curious, I peek around the corner into the kitchen.

And that’s when I see them.

Bucky’s barefoot, wearing sweats and an old white T-shirt that clings just a little too well to his back. His hair’s pulled half-up, messy, and he’s got our daughter tucked against his chest—her head resting under his chin, her tiny hand fisted in the collar of his shirt.

And he’s dancing.

Slowly. Carefully. Just rocking her back and forth in time with the music, feet gliding over the tile like he’s done this a thousand times before.

The record playing is old—real vinyl, one of Steve’s gifts from a few birthdays back.

The Andrews Sisters are singing softly through the speakers, something about dreams and moonlight and missing someone.

And Bucky?

He’s smiling.

Not his usual smirk.

Not the grin he wears when she babbles nonsense or throws mashed peas.

But something quiet. Full. Like this moment—right here—is something sacred.

And he doesn’t know I’m watching.

I don’t move.

I just… stand there, frozen, hand pressed to my heart, watching the two of them.

Our little girl is bundled in her favorite yellow onesie, blinking sleepily against his chest, soothed completely by his voice and warmth.

And Bucky—my Bucky—looks completely at peace.

Like nothing outside this kitchen exists.

Like this is the only world he needs.

He spins once, slow and careful, making sure to keep her tucked close.

Then he says, soft and almost shy, “You’re a good dancer, sweetheart. You get that from your mom.”

She lets out a sleepy coo.

And he chuckles. “Yeah, I agree. She’s the prettiest thing I ever saw.”

Tears sting my eyes.

Because he means it.

He always does.

After another verse, he finally catches me watching.

He blinks—then smiles wider, cheeks flushed just slightly. “Hey.”

“Hi,” I whisper.

“She fell asleep on me again,” he says, like an apology. “I didn’t want to put her down yet.”

“You better not,” I murmur. “You’re the only person who can get her to nap past thirty minutes.”

He shifts her just a little, kissing her forehead. “She likes the music.”

“She likes you.”

His eyes flick to mine. “You like me?”

I cross the floor to him. “I love you.”

I press a kiss to his cheek, then rest my hand over hers on our daughter’s back.

“She gets this from you,” I whisper. “The way she melts in your arms. The peace.”

He shakes his head slowly. “I think she’s just smart.”

“Smart enough to know she’s safe.”

That makes him pause.

His eyes glimmer.

And then he leans down and kisses me, soft and sweet, like he has nowhere else to be.

We stand there for a long time—him rocking, me holding onto both of them, the music playing gently in the background.

Our daughter breathes steadily between us, hand still curled in her dad’s shirt.

And for the first time in days—maybe weeks—I don’t feel tired.

I just feel home.

Later, Bucky tells me he used to dance like that in the ‘40s.

In the kitchen. With his little sister Becca. With his ma.

“I thought I’d forgotten how,” he admits, voice soft in the dark as we lay in bed. “But when I held her, it just came back.”

I smile and kiss his shoulder.

“You didn’t forget,” I whisper. “You just didn’t know you’d need it again.”

And when I wake up to music playing again the next morning—I already know where I’ll find him.

Masterlist

Request

[romaevelizz]

quick little bucky headcannon!

Thinking about how the lord didn’t give Bucky enough time with his sisters, the he didn’t get to watch them grown and spend the time he wished with them. So he sent Bucky daughters. four rowdy girls who reminded him deeply what it was like to live with girls. To have a household dominated by them. And he did not mind one bit, he couldn’t help but thank god for his home really felt like a home as each one of his daughters were born.

[greatmistakes]

Dad Bucky Barnes

Summary: Bucky and you give a talk to your daughter after her being called to the Principal’s office.

Note: No use of y/n or specifications of the character. Drabble inspired by this gif and my love for the idea of Bucky as a father.

Also, my main language is not English. If there’s any mistake please let me know kindly 🥰

“So… how was school today, Becca?” Bucky tried stating the conversation. You were silent, collecting your thoughts and sanity, after receiving the call from the principal.

Your daughter, Rebecca, was called in to the principal’s office because she almost hit a classmate of her. Apparently she was about to get in a fight with a boy. If it wasn’t for her teacher, the poor kid would probably had left with a red cheekbone or something like that.

“It was… not great.” She said from her car seat in the back row.

Okay, at least she’s not trying to lie about it.

“Really? How so?” You continued, trying your best to sound as normal and collected as possible.

“Hmm… the pincipal talk to me.” She was waddling with her tiny hands while looking down at them. Such a cute little copy of you.

“What for? Something good?” Bucky tried to get more information from her before you slammed the breaks anxiously waiting for her to explain.

He regretted not being the one on the wheel.

“Mmm… not really. I… I did something that Ms. Medina and the pincipal say is not good.”

That made your eyes immediately look at her through the rearview mirror. Thankfully you were at a stop sign and you didn’t have the necessity to hit the breaks.

Before you could say anything, Bucky spoke. Trying to keep the peace.

“Oh? So you think you did something good?”

“Well yeah, Gale is a bad boy. He needs to be better.” Rebecca was more confident while explaining now.

“A bad boy huh? What makes him a bad kid?” Her father continued investigating.

“He bothers my friend. He pulls her hair when Ms. Medina not looking and he always push her in playglound time.” Her tiny arms were crossed, showing she was mad while remembering all this kid did.

“And what did you do, Rebecca?” You asked. Thankfully almost home.

“I told him to stop, many times. And he not stop!”

“And what happened after he didn’t stop?” Your husband continued.

“I was mad. And I want Gale to be good and I push him. And then I go to hit him but Ms. Medina says stop and to go to talk to the pincipal.” She said so fast she even got her eyes glossy.

You arrived to your home’s driveway just in time.

“You wanted to hit him? Why Rebecca? That is not how you solve problems, you know that.” You said, no longer containing your self and looking back at her once you stopped the car.

“But he a bad boy! Daddy always hits and fights bad mans!” Rebecca tried her parents to make sense.

Well she’s not wrong. You and Bucky look at each other and sigh.

“Becca… you can’t just go around wanting to hit people… that’s not… you just can’t do it.” Bucky tries to explain while getting out of the car to help her daughter out.

“But daddy you hit and fight! And then bad mans are good mans.” Her pouted lips and tone showed how much she didn’t understood what she did wrong.

Bucky couldn’t resist that little baby cute face when he opened the door. He almost gave in and left the conversation there, but he sighed and placed his arms on his hips while trying to find a way yo explain. Thankfully you came to his rescue.

“Baby, remember that Daddy has to do a lot of work before going to stop bad guys. And that’s what he does, prevent them from harming others. Once words and reasoning does not work, your dad just tries to stop the bad men to make more harm.”

“But I tried talk to Gale.” At this point, tears were rolling down her eyes, making both Bucky’s and your hearts tight with regret for causing those tears in a way.

Bucky, finally giving up, piked her daughter up from her car seat and hugged her tight while soothing her.

“Princess, its okay. We understand that you did what you thought was right.”

“Yeah, you are a great friend trying to defend your classmate. We are very proud of you being a good friend.” You swiftly dried her tears on her chubby cheeks with your thumb. “Just remember that it is important you always remember that violence is not the answer.”

“You can always talk to your teacher and to us. And if the teacher can’t solve it, we are going to do everything in our power to help you and your friend. We will always listen and help you, no matter what.” Bucky adds, moving her daughter so that he can carry her with his right arm.

“You pomise?” Her eyes finally stop crying while hearing that.

“I promise baby. I’ll tell you this, mommy and I will go to talk to Ms. Medina and the principal tomorrow morning and help your friend out. That sounds good?”

“Yes, thank you daddy. Thank you mommy. Im sowy.” The three of you share a hug, still at your house’s driveway but not caring one bit.

“Oh my sweet girl, we know you are sorry.” You left a sweet kiss on her forehead. “You now know better and you will continue to be that sunshine friend you are.”

“We love you, Becky.” Bucky says while giving her a noisy kiss on her cheek that makes her laugh. “So much.”

[dontpulltohardman]

The Arm Bandit

pairing: husband!Bucky Barnes x wife!Reader

requests: OPEN

asks: OPEN

summary: As your daughter grows, her fascination with Bucky’s metal arm gives you a run for your money.

warning: straight fluff, daughters name is Lila but is called sweet pea and baby a couple times.

word count: 1.15k

A/n: Hope you all enjoyy don’t forget to like, comment and reblog. love you lots and lots like jelly tots ❤️

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵

It first started when Lila was teething. In his sleep-deprived state, Bucky let her gnaw on his finger for some relief and also just to stop her from crying. When you both noticed it worked, Bucky became her chew toy for the time being.

You had tried to get her to use something else, but nothing gave her the relief she wanted, and Bucky didn't mind. He found it sweet and gave him a chance to be closer to her.

By the time she was a year old, she started hitting. Every time Bucky was close to her, she beat his metal arm like a drum. Again, you both tried getting her to stop, but the way her face lit up and her giggles filled the room whenever she did it, Bucky caved immediately and let the strange habit continue.

As she got older, her fascination with his arm became less violent as she began tracing the gold lines that ran along it. Whenever he was near her, her hands had to be on him, more specifically, his arm.

When he had to put her down for a nap, she had her fingers dragging along each indent until she eventually lulled herself to sleep.

Then it got to the point where she couldn't sleep without it, and I mean absolutely couldn't. There were so many nights Bucky came into the room with his arm gone and his eyes tired, and all you could think was how a man who was built for war had now become so gentle, giving, utterly and completely hers.

Then she turned three, and all hell broke loose. There wasn't a moment when she wasn't climbing his arm like a tree or wrapped around it like a koala. The sight never failed to give a heart attack. "Bucky put her down", you'd say. "She could fall and get injured", he always brushed off your worries with a kiss and a simple, "I've got her doll."

And he did have her, until he didn't, when she learned how to detach his arm after a trip to Wakanda. So every time he got her 'mad' or just for shits and giggles, she would detach his arm and go running for the hills as her laughs echoed down the hallway, while Bucky reattached his arm for the third time in a row.

So that's where you are now, with a toddler who detaches metal arms to get out of trouble and a grumpy husband with said metal arm. "Doll, I can't take this anymore", Bucky groans as he enters the kitchen, reattaching his arm once again. "All the other things she did with my arm were cute. This one is just horrible". He groaned.

You glanced over your shoulder, trying (and failing) to hide your smile. “She’s three Buck, her full time job is driving you insane.” He slumped into his chair dramatically, dragging a hand across his face, “She called me ‘bad daddy’ because I wouldn’t let her put stickers on it”

You snort, “Well, can you blame her after the birthday incident?” You smile as you move between his legs. He narrows his eyes. “I still have glitter in my elbow joint from that”, he muttered, his head now resting on your stomach.

Before you could reply, the soft pattering of feet echoes down the hallway. You both turn to see your daughter; her curls a mess, face all innocent as she twirls the ends of her dress between her fingers.

Bucky smiles softly, “What’s the matter, sweet pea?” He asks, still holding onto you as you massage his shoulders. “Daddy, have arm, please?” Her smile is adorably sweet, and Bucky was just about to give in when you intervened.

“Not right now, baby, Daddy’s shoulder is hurting him.” Which wasn’t a lie; Bucky’s shoulder was in constant pain from your daughter taking his arm off too much, and he just ignored it to see her happy.

She looked at you like you just told her Santa wasn’t real. She sported an Oscar-worthy frown as she folded in on herself, and her eyes welled with crocodile tears. You shifted to lift her into your arms to rest her on your hip.

She pouted, looking just like her father, as she rested her head on your shoulder. You rubbed soothing circles on her back as she let out a tiny sigh, her thumb finding its way to her mouth. "I know, baby", you coo as you gently sway her. "Daddy needs a little break, just for tonight".

She huffs as she cuddles deeper into your chest, and Bucky leans back into his chair, fighting the growing smile on his face. "I'll tell you what," she perks up a little as he continues, "you let me keep the arm tonight so we can help mommy make cookies, and tomorrow we'll play princesses and you can put stickers on daddy's arm, yeah?"

She blinked at him slowly before pulling her thumb out of her mouth, "And glitter?"

Bucky sighed, shaking his head a little, and you can't believe the words that fall from his mouth, "Fine. A little glitter. But none in the elbow joint this time, okay?"

Her face instantly lights up, and her smile just melts your heart. "Okay, daddy!"

She wriggles out of your arms, into Bucky's lap and wraps her arms around his neck. You and Bucky exchange a quiet laugh as he holds her a bit tighter, before she runs off to use her newfound energy elsewhere.

"Tell me why we haven't had a second one yet?" Bucky mutters as his arms find their way around your waist, and his lips travel from your cheeks to your temple.

You smirked. "Because you're arm won't stand a chance against two of them". He scoffs in between kisses, "Don't knock it till you try it, doll," he says smugly before throwing you over his shoulder.

"James!" you shriek, lightly hitting his back as he trudges towards your bedroom, locking the door behind him.

BONUS

A series of giggles and deep belly laughs echo throughout the kitchen. The three of you huddle around a baking tray with some questionably shaped cookie dough, victims of Lila and Bucky's cookie competition that you have the honour of judging.

You watch with a smile as Lila sneaks chocolate chips out of the pack while Bucky figures out how to preheat the oven. "Everything okay over here, Super Soldier?" Your hands wrap around his waist from behind, and you rest your head on his shoulder. "Can you figure this out, please?"

You giggle into his shirt before leading him toward the stove to show him what to do. "Ah! What would I do without you, my love!" He smiles, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips.

"Who knows?" You shrug with a smile as you gently take Lila into your arms while Bucky places the tray into the oven.

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵

[sosa2imagines]

Happy Birthday Bucky! 🎂❤️

Warning- None, just fluff and lots of love. Bucky has three kids, twins, a boy and a girl and a baby boy.

The clock was ticking closer to midnight, and your heart ached as you watched Bucky sitting on the couch, completely unaware of the surprise you and the twins had planned for him.

For the entire day, you and the kids had pretended it was just an ordinary day.

You made sure to act normal, talking about errands for tomorrow, discussing grocery lists, even casually planning a visit to the compound, making it seem like nothing was special about March 10th.

Bucky, being the man that he was, didn’t let his disappointment show. But you knew him too well.

You saw it in the way his shoulders slumped a little, the small flicker of sadness in his blue eyes when neither you nor the twins mentioned his birthday.

And, God, it took everything in you to not jump into his arms and tell him how much you and the kids loved him, that you could never forget his birthday.

But you held back.

Because the surprise at midnight was worth it.

And just like that the night goes on.

Jamie was still wide awake, his chubby hands gripping Bucky’s vibranium fingers, gnawing on them as if they were his favorite teething toy, which they were, he inherited it from his sister.

Natalia and Samuel were hiding in their room, barely containing their giggles, waiting for your signal.

“Daddy will love our surprise, Sammy!” “Yeah, can’t wait to see daddy’s face, he’ll be so happy!”

Five minutes to midnight, you stood up, carefully handing Jamie to Bucky.

“I’ll be right back…” you said, trying to keep your voice casual. “Just getting some water from the kitchen.”

Bucky gave you a small nod, completely unaware, as Jamie snuggled into his chest.

And then, the most precious conversation happened between father and son.

Bucky adjusted Jamie in his arms, gently running a hand over his soft hair.

“Guess it’s just me and you, huh, bud?” he murmured.

Jamie, half-sitting on Bucky’s lap, blinked up at his father and blew a raspberry.

Bucky smirked, shaking his head. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

Jamie stared at Bucky for a moment, his little hand coming up to pat Bucky’s scruffy jaw.

Bucky raised an eyebrow. “What, you don’t like Daddy’s beard?”

Jamie squealed, giggling, before smacking Bucky’s cheek again.

Bucky laughed, shaking his head. “You’re ruthless, kid.”

Jamie babble-yelled in agreement.

Bucky smirked, bouncing him gently. “You’re not helping, you know? Everyone forgot my birthday. Even Mommy.”

Jamie blinked. Then let out a long string of baby babbles, as if he had a lot to say about that.

Bucky chuckled. “You think I deserve cake?”

Jamie clapped his hands, babbling enthusiastically.

Bucky sighed dramatically. “Well, too bad. No one remembers.”

Jamie gave him a judgmental stare, he then grabbed Bucky’s dog tags and yanked with all his tiny might.

Bucky winced, he gave Jamie a pout look, “Alright, alright I get it, I get it! You don’t wanna hear Daddy sulk.”

Jamie smacked Bucky’s chest, giggling and babble-shouted, slapping his tiny hands against Bucky’s chest.

Bucky chuckled. “That so? You think your mama and your brother and sister forgot my birthday?”

Jamie blew a raspberry.

Bucky smirked. “Yeah, I know. It’s not a big deal.”

Jamie grabbed at Bucky’s vibranium fingers, holding them in his chubby fists and shaking them.

Bucky shook his head. “You trying to tell me something, kid?”

Jamie let out a long string of babbles, his big blue eyes shining mischievously.

Bucky sighed dramatically. “Maybe they just don’t care anymore. I mean, I’m old, right?”

Jamie frowned and then he smacked Bucky’s face with his tiny hand.

Bucky choked on a laugh. “Okay, rude. I know I’m old, but you didn’t have to agree that fast, pal.”

Jamie giggled, patting Bucky’s cheek again, softer this time.

Bucky smiled, pressing a kiss to Jamie’s chubby little fingers. “You’re lucky you’re cute, kid.”

And just as Bucky was about to poke Jamie’s chubby tummy…

The door burst open.

“Happy Birthday, Daddy!”

Natalia and Samuel came running in, holding a cake, candles lit and glowing.

You followed behind them, smiling brightly, carrying a little party hat for Bucky.

The moment Bucky saw all of you, his eyes widened in shock, his breath caught in his throat.

Because you all remembered.

Natalia and Samuel started singing at the top of their lungs,

“Happy Birthday to you! Happy Birthday to you! Happy Birthday, dear Daddy! WE LOVE YOU!!!”

Jamie, overwhelmed with excitement, flailed his arms and let out a loud squeal, babbling as if he was singing along.

Bucky looked at you, then at the kids, then back at you, his heart clenching and eyes glistening.

“You guys…” he started, voice rough with emotion.

You smiled, walking over and placing the party hat on his head.

“Did you really think we would ever forget your birthday?” you whispered, kissing his lips softly.

Bucky swallowed hard, his arms tightening around Jamie. “Maybe just for a second.”

Natalia gasped. “Daddy! You think we’d forget?”

Samuel grinned. “We were just acting, we care about you so much!!! We got you good, huh?”

Bucky shook his head, chuckling. “Yeah, yeah you got me good, alright.”

Natalia and Samuel jumped on the bed and the birthday celebrations had officially began.

Bucky closed his eyes, made a wish, and blew out the candles.

The twins cheered, Jamie squealed, and you hugged him from behind, resting your chin on his shoulder.

Bucky cut the cake, feeding you first, then the twins, and finally Jamie.

The second Jamie tasted the frosting, his eyes went wide and then shoved his entire chubby hand into the cake.

Bucky barely had time to react before Jamie smeared the frosting all over his own face.

Samuel laughed hysterically. “Jamie’s wearing cake!”

Natalia giggled. “He looks like a cupcake!”

Jamie, pleased with himself, babbled happily, clapping his sticky hands together.

Bucky groaned. “Well, there goes my son. He’s part cake now.”

You laughed, wiping Jamie’s face. “And it’s your fault for giving him a taste.”

Bucky sighed, shaking his head. “Guess I asked for it, hopefully no sugar rush.”

Jamie climbed onto Bucky’s lap, grabbing onto his vibranium fingers and mouthing them again.

As the laughter settled, Samuel tilted his head, looking at Bucky seriously.

“So, Daddy…” he said innocently.

Bucky raised a brow. “Yeah, bud?”

Samuel smiled innocently, “How does it feel to be older than dinosaurs?”

You burst into laughter, while Bucky stared at his son in pure betrayal.

“I’m not that old!”

Samuel snickered. “I dunno, Uncle Steve is, and you’re like…his age, so...”

Bucky groaned. “I’m regretting this birthday already.”

Before anyone could respond, Samuel, completely unaware and in the flow of the fun, innocently dropped the bomb, “And wait till you see your surprise party tomorrow at the compound”

Natalia gasped, smacking his arm. “Samuel!”

Samuel blinked. “What?”

Bucky grinned. “Surprise party, huh?”

You sighed, shaking your head.

Samuel smiled sheepishly, “Oops.”

Bucky turned to you, smirking. “You guys planned a party?”

You smiled, kissing his cheek. “Of course we did, we love you Bubba!”

Bucky shook his head, laughing. “Well, guess I better act surprised tomorrow.”

You grinned. “Better practice, old man.”

Samuel snickered. “Older than dinosaurs!”

Bucky chuckled, pulling all of you in. “I love you guys. Even if you think I’m older than a dinosaur.”

Jamie slapped his face again, letting his presence known.

Bucky groaned. “Okay, especially you, kid.”

You then looked at Bucky, “I have a special gift for you.”

Bucky grinned, already intrigued his mind already heading to sex, “oh yeah? What is it, doll?”

You smirked, pulling out a small box. “This is actually something different.”  

Bucky took the box, curiosity flickering in his blue eyes. When he opened it, he froze.  

Inside was a custom-made dog tag necklace, but instead of military details, it had something else engraved, 

James Buchanan Barnes  

Loving Husband & Dad

Forever Our Hero

Bucky stared at it, throat tightening.  

You gently touched his hand, “I know how much your old tags meant to you, but I wanted to give you new ones. Ones that represent what you are now.”  

Bucky swallowed hard, looking at you with so much emotion in his eyes.

“This is…” He exhaled, voice thick, “This is perfect, doll.”  

You smiled, taking the necklace and clasping it around his neck. “Happy Birthday, my love.”  

Bucky didn’t say anything at first. 

Instead, he pulled you into a deep, lingering kiss, pouring all his love and gratitude into it.  

The twins made a yew sound, but Bucky simply smiled still kissing you, because he knew he's surrounded by love.

Love from you and his children.

When he pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours. “Best damn birthday ever.”  

Jamie simply blew a raspberry.

Happy Birthday, Bucky.

Taglist- @blackhawkfanatic @ordelixx @sapphirebarnes @ilovetaquitosmmmm

@differenttyphoonwerewolf @vicmc624 @thezombieprostitute @nekoannie-chan

@mrvl-addict @mercurial-chuckles

@emerald-writes @caplanbuckybarnes

@redbloodedgurl @cjand10 @chemtrails-club @slutforchrisjamalevans @gracescor3

@ghostlythinggoingaround @princezzjasmine @3xclusivemariii @ephemeral-oasis @zuri-767-666

@geeky-politics-46 @dexter99 @calwitch

@caplanreblogsfics @winterslove1917

@pono-pura-vida @renegadesgirl1991 @iwudbutnah @ghalouha @sebastians-love @saranghaey @greatmistakes @baw1066

@bucks-babe @lolzies123r @kandis-mom @purplecolordeer @avioletkurt

@pattiemac1 @lovely-geek @hzdhrtss @kpopgirlbtssvt

[wildflowersandvibranium]

Plums & Pancakes

Pairing: Dad!Husband!Bucky Barnes x Mom!Wife!Reader

Summary: A quiet life wasn’t something Bucky Barnes ever imagined for himself , not after everything he’d endured. But then a blur of flying fruit and a love he never saw coming changed everything.

Word Count: 2.2k ish

Warning/Tags: TOOTH ROOTING FLUFF! literally nothing but sweet cuteness comfort and loveee oh and did i mention fluff! maybe borderline suggestive but not really?

A/N: okay guys dad bucky is my favorite thing to write everrrr so if you love it too lmk and ill write up some more for ya! hes a cutie pie in thissss anyways see ya on the next one bbys

Bucky Barnes never believed the universe would be kind to him.

Not after the fall or Hydra. Not after the years he couldn’t even remember his own name. And not after the blip.

But sometimes , every once in a while—he was reminded that maybe… just maybe… he’d been wrong.

The biggest reminder , funny enough , came in the form of flying fruit.

It had been a warm September day , the kind that hinted at fall without the full commitment. 

The annual farmer’s market in upstate New York was crowded but now overbearing. 

Bucky had been reaching for a small basket of plums—his favorite , a habit from a lifetime ago when living alone in Romania when a blur of motion smacked right into him.

And suddenly , the plums were on the ground. So were three apples, a carton of strawberries ,  an entire paper bag that had clearly been packed to the brim with freshly baked bread, soaps , and jars of something that smelled like lavender.

“ooghf–oh my god, I’m so sorry!” you’d said, immediately dropping to your knees beside the wreckage tyring to scramble and pick everything up. “I wasn’t looking , I didn’t mean to—are you okay?”

Bucky had just blinked. He didn’t think he’d ever seen someone move that fast while apologizing so much.

“I’m fine,” he’d managed, kneeling beside you. “Are you okay?”

You looked up at him then—cheeks flushed, strands of hair stuck to your forehead from the heat, hands full of squashed plums—and laughed. A soft, kind laugh that didn’t match the chaotic scene at all.

“Guess that’s what I get for trying to carry half the stand in one go,” you said, brushing your hands on your jeans. “I try to help my dad with his stall every week. Still haven’t learned to make two trips I guess.”

He didn’t know why, but Bucky had smiled.

Maybe it was your warmth.

Maybe it was how pretty you were , big eyes filled with wonder.

Maybe it was the fact that it had been a very long time since someone looked at him like he wasn’t dangerous.

“I could, uh… buy you a coffee to make up for the plum mess?” you’d offered after he helped pick everything up.

And Bucky—James Buchanan Barnes, former assassin, hundred-year-old man with too many ghosts was too nervous to trust his voice , so he nodded.

And man did that feel like a lifetime ago.

Because now… now Bucky Barnes was married.

To you.

And the two of you had built quite a life. Settling down into a simple cottage tucked into an open field. Where you two were raising your now four-year-old daughter named Winnie , after his ma , and just recently welcomed your five-month-old son , Grant.

The sun was barely peeking above the horizon when the cries started.

Bucky stirred first. It was a reflex now—like breathing , like how he would hold his breath when he reached for a gun back in the day. 

Only now, he reached for his son instead.

Grant was fussing in the bassinet next to their bed, squirming with his tiny fists clenched tight face angry and red.

“I got him, doll,” Bucky whispered to you, voice thick with sleep as he rubbed his eyes. “You rest a little longer.”

But just as he was lifting Grant into his arms cooing to the baby, another voice rang out from the hallway.

“Mommy!”

You groaned ,  face squished into the pillow. 

“Mommyyyy, I want pancakes!” Winnie’s voice was full of energy and chipper. “With chocolate chips!”

“I’ll make ’em,” Bucky offered, already patting Grant’s back as the baby calmed in his arms. “After I change him , the little guy seems to have a present for me.” Bucky's face crinkled when he stood with the stinky babe.

You chuckled into your pillow now , stretching before rolling out of bed. “I’ll get her dressed. She’s probably already got on her princess boots and nothing else.”

It was true.

Winnie had exactly three obsessions at the moment: chocolate chip pancakes, braids, and her sparkly light-up boots that clomped across the hardwood with the grace of a baby elephant.

You managed to wrangle her into an outfit—jean overalls  and a cream flowy , long-sleeved shirt—and sat her down on the stool in the bathroom.

She chattered the entire time as you sectioned her long brown hair into three even parts. Fingers twisting with precision as you yawned, still shaking off the sleeplessness from Grant's eventful evening.

“Daddy said we’re going to the park. Can we bring snacks? I wanna feed the ducks and geese again. I bet they missed me. Do you think they did? Do ducks like pancakes? Because if they do, I’ll share.”

“You’re a generous soul and yes i think they missed you.,” you told her laughing at her innocent toddler mind. You tied off the braid with a glittery purple band and she jumped into your lap happy with the result.

Meanwhile, in the nursery Bucky had Grant tucked against his chest in a soft wrap. His giant hands moved gently, adjusting the wrap with practiced ease.

“Hey,” he called out as he stepped out of the nursery, “how do we look?”

You turned and—oh.

God help you.

Your husband stood there barefoot, in downy gray sweatpants and a blue soft t-shirt. 

Your baby was swaddled against his chest, all chubby cheeks and content, little fingers curled into Bucky’s chest.

The silver chain of his dog tags glinted just beneath the collar of his shirt.

He smiled, soft and sleepy. “Too much?”

You just blinked. “You know what you’re doing to me.”

He chuckled.

And screw it if he didn’t do the lopsided smirk that made you weak back when you first met.

“I’m just trying to get our kids to the park in one piece,” he said innocently. “If I look good doing it, that’s on you for marrying me.”

He said smiling, leaning down to your face and kissing you full of his love.

“Ugh,” Winnie groaned dramatically. “You guys are always kissing and flirting.”

Bucky ruffled her hair. “Get used to it, peanut cause every day i fall more in love with your mama.”

The grocery run had been a blur of snack requests , impulse juice box purchases, and Bucky being stopped by a sweet older woman who insisted Grant looked “just like his daddy.”

 You had smiled politely while Bucky awkwardly thanked her, his face a little pink from the compliment, and then used the excuse of Grant needing to get home to escape.

But now it was time for your favorite part of the day.

The park.

A soft breeze drifted through the trees, the sun warm but not oppressive. 

Winnie ran ahead to the playground, her boots lighting up with every delighted stomp. Grant was now sound asleep against Bucky’s chest, full from his bottle he had between the store and here , his little mouth slack as he dozed in the wrap.

You settled onto the bench with a relieved sigh, one hand shading your eyes as you tracked Winnie’s every movement—up the ladder, across the bridge, back down the slide. 

Bucky dropped a kiss to your temple before walking off to toss a crumpled snack wrapper in the park bin. “Ill be right back just gonna throw this away” 

You looked down to see what he was holding and noticed the lack of his wedding band , tan lines still prominent but the metal was missing , probably forgotten after his shower you thought.

You were keeping your gaze still on Winnie as he walked away , when you heard a loud cackle.

You turned your head to the sound and saw a woman next to your husband.

Tall. Blonde. Designer sunglasses and a perfectly timed laugh.

She walked up closer to him, head tilted like she already knew how pretty she was.

You squinted. 

She was talking. And then laughing. Then her hand touched his chest.

His chest.

It wasn’t threatening, not really. But it wasn’t nothing.

You watched Bucky awkwardly smile , then nod , and finally excuse himself, walking back to you fast , his brows slightly furrowed.

“Well, that was strange,” he said as he sat beside you. “Why do people flirt like that in the middle of a public park? Like, thanks ma’am, but I’m holding my son right here.”

You smirked, turning your head toward him. “Well, women do love hot single dads.”

The look on his face was instant. 

His head snapped so fast you heard it crack.

“SINGLE??” he practically barked. It made Grant stir and whine at the disruptive sound ,  he immediately bounced gently, voice going soft again. “Sorry, buddy. You’re okay , I'm sorry.”

You shrugged, holding up his hand in front of his face. 

“Just saying. You’re out here ringless , looking like that , holding an adorable baby , how do you accept any girl not to jump on you?”

Bucky looked down at his hand like it had betrayed him. “Shit,” he muttered. “I took it off when I was washing the bottles  and didn’t put it back on. I knew I forgot something. I've felt off since we left. She probably thinks I’m trying to—God.”

You laughed, rubbing your hand along his thigh. “Relax. You didn’t do anything. And honestly? It was kind of fun watching someone else drool over you for a change .”

He gave you a pointed look.

 “Don’t say things like that when you know I’m going to spend the next hour trying to convince you you’re the only person I want to look at .”

You winked. “Convince away, Barnes…But the moment a woman's manicured claws touch either of my kids then we have a major problem and the winter soldier will be her last worry.” You said laying your head on his shoulder turning back to Winnie now picking flowers as you rubbed Grants back.

“Okay , okay easy there mama bear” He laughed through his nose.

Winnie went down first.

After a bubble bath with approximately twelve too many toys, two books, and a lullaby from both of you (because she claimed you both sang differently and she needed the duet), she finally dozed off.

Bucky had given her one last kiss on the forehead and whispered, “Sweet dreams, peanut,” before closing her door softly with a click.

Grant had been next—fed, changed, and now out cold in his crib with one arm over his head like a tiny drama king. He is his fathers son–

And now?

Now it was your turn.

You stood in front of your mirror, legs a little tired, back a little sore, but your heart full. 

You rubbed lotion on to your arms and shoulders slowly, the cool cream easing your muscles as the soft light of the bedroom cast everything in a dreamy golden hue.

Behind you, the bathroom door opened.

Bucky padded in barefoot, wearing those navy blue pajama pants you loved—low on his hips, soft from too many washes (thanks to lots of spit up) . His shirt was off, hair still damp from his shower. You caught him watching you in the mirror.

“You’re staring,” you said softly, smiling now brushing through your hair.

He didn’t answer right away. 

Instead, he walked to the bed and flopped down dramatically on his back with a groan. Like I said , father– like son.

“I’m exhausted,” he murmured, eyes closed. 

You laughed, turning around fully and crawling onto the bed beside him. 

You caressed his cheek , the pad of your thumb swiping his cheekbone and slowly moved to straddle his waist , your faces inches apart , when he suddenly held up his hand stopping your movement.

His wedding band back on and shining brightly.

“Sorry, doll face,” he drawled. “But I’m happily married.”

“Oh no. I was just about to ask for your number, too.”

He grinned, one of those rare, slow ones that started with the left side of his mouth and crept across. 

“You can have my number. But only if you kiss me first.”

You leaned in, planting a slow, warm kiss against his lips.

“Done deal,” you whispered.

He exhaled, threading his fingers through your hair as he kissed you again. Longer this time. Slower. A kiss that said thank you–

 I love you 

I love our kids

I love our life.

When you finally pulled away, he pressed his forehead to yours.

“I still don’t believe this is real, sometimes,” he admitted quietly. “You. The kids. The quiet. All of it. It doesn’t feel like something I should’ve gotten to have.”

You brushed your thumb along his jaw. “You deserve every second of this, Bucky Barnes. Every messy , swee t, sleepy , pancake-filled second.”

He tilted his head and kissed your wrist. “Even when I forget my ring and get flirted with by random women in the park?”

You rolled your eyes. “Especially then. Because I get to be the one you come home to and reminded how lucky me and the kids are to call you ours.”

And you did. Every night.

He wrapped his arms around you as you settled into bed under the plush duvet.

 His hand splayed protectively over your stomach as you both listened to the quiet of the house—the hum and crackle of the baby monitor, the faint whistle of the wind outside, the creak of the old floors as they settled.

It was all love.

Not the kind that was loud or dramatic. Not the kind shouted over chaos or with empty meaning. But the kind that was built quietly, with chocolate chips , baby wraps, and whispered lullabies.

And this?

This was the kind of love Bucky Barnes had only ever dreamed of.

-end

Comments , Reblogs , Likes and Requests are always loved!

(although if you liked this fic please consider reblogging so it can reach a wider audience)

They let me know that you are enjoying what I'm publishing and gives me motivation to write more and more! :33

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

WORLDS BEST DAD.

dad bucky barnes x fem!reader

WORD COUNT. 1123 SUMMARY. father’s day never used to mean much to bucky until having a family of his own. with another baby on the way, you all enjoy a slow morning in bed giving gifts and appreciating the worlds best dad. [fluff] NOTE. not so keen on my own dad so wanted to make bucky a dad. seems healthy right?

⎯ ☆ ⎯

This day in particular hadn't meant much to Bucky in a rather long time, the day feeling like a random Sunday in June with no cause for celebration. Though that changed about three years ago when he became the central focal point for the special day: having a daughter and baby on the way to give him a reason to enjoy the occasion. 

Bucky lays at your side, sleeping soundly while you rest against the headboard, hand smoothing large circles over your bump — the act like you were trying to calm your son’s kicking feet. You make a faint sound of unease and your husband’s head whips up from the pillow, eyes attentive despite their struggle to adjust to the bright light of the room.

“Everything okay?” he asks almost immediately, gaze honing in on yours. 

“Yeah,” you assure and smile softly. You bring your other hand to brush over his cheek, thumb swiping over him sweetly. “Want to feel him? He’s kicking like crazy.”

He returns a smile as the reassurance eases his mind and he adjusts, laying back down and resting his temple on his fist. He extends his other hand and you grab his wrist gently, guiding him under your top and to the point of discomfort. Your husband's smile widens with the contact of his hand to your skin and he begins to feel rough taps against his palm.

“I think he’s speaking to you in morse code,” you start, and he peers up to meet your eyes again, showing interest in what you have to say. “I think he’s saying ‘Happy Father’s Day’.”

He grins and lowers his eyes back to your belly, his hand continuing it’s circling despite your son’s seeming to have calmed down. It was as if he just enjoyed the sheer contact of touch, to feel both you and his son in a way so gentle and casual and domestic. And while pregnancy this time around was more taxing on you than the last, the little moments you’d frequently have like this in bed made it worth it — the giant, interfering belly, fatigue and thick, heavy ankles felt worth it.

With your due date closely approaching, it’s important to appreciate these moments of silence, these moments of calm before it all becomes anything but. These minutes you’d share with your lover in the morning with his hand on your bump became part of routine, it became something you’d do every morning. Quite like you hanging onto the quiet before the storm, the storm being your daughter wreaking hyperactive havoc with her awakening.

Like it was anticipated, you hear a noise from the monitor on the nightstand and you pick it up, watching your little girl crawl out of bed with a stuffie in her hand. Within a few short seconds, your bedroom door creeps open, and a short silhouette of your daughter appears through the gap.

“Morning princess,” Bucky smiles as he gestures her over.

“Hi, baby,” you, too, grin, welcoming her.

She paddles her way across the room and to your bed, small, hurried footsteps carrying her closer before she excitedly jumps between the two of you. 

Bucky grunts as he takes the brute force of her landing, though he would much rather the knee to the stomach was on him than you. “Careful with mommy’s tummy,” he reminds softly, and wraps his arms around her — bringing her to lay between so he can smother her face with kisses. 

You watch it play out, loving eyes observing the warming act. And only when it dwindles down and he stops, do you touch her. You smooth over her wild bed head and redirect her attention, nodding to your husband beside her. 

“Do you want to tell daddy what we’re doing today?” you ask, softly jogging her memory. She struggles for a moment and you get closer, whispering beside her ear. “What are we going to make for breakfast?”

“Pancakes,” she exclaims as she sits up, hands beginning to clap at the thought. 

“Pancakes?” Bucky repeats, matching her excited tone like he was entertaining her. “What are we having on them?”

“Gummy bears,” she giggles, her toothy grin visible through her animated expression. “And chocolate, and— and cream, and, and,”

“Candy worms?” you suggest and she turns silent, her head twisting slowly to look at Bucky. 

He notices her questioning glances and decides to play along, keen to humour his little girl. “That’s too far,” his head impishly shakes, pretending not to like the idea.

She mirrors your lover’s reaction, her face grimacing as he mimics a faux face of disgust. “No, mommy.”

You smile as you look between them, suppressing a laugh. “How about jelly beans?”

She takes another minute and turns to look at her dad, silently awaiting his response. He pretends to give it some thought and nods faintly, permitting his approval as a grin widens. 

Your daughter finally agrees with a nod that rather matched that of Bucky’s. Though you reroute conversation, directing it back to the subject of the special day. 

“Should we give daddy his present?” you ask, face lighting up. 

She clambers away from the pair of you and slides off the bed, heading for the gift bag on the floor beside the dresser. She rejoins you moments later with a beaming smile you have never seen shine so bright. 

“What’s this?” Bucky sits up, smile genuine and sincere as he reaches for the pink bag in your daughter’s hand. 

She giggles, watching intently despite her young age. “A doll,” she interrupts, spoiling it before he even has a chance to take it out the bag.

He pulls it out and his smile falters, trying his very best not to laugh and taint the memory. Bucky turns to meet your eyes to figure out a way best to respond, though you’re no use: the hand over mouth a visible tell you were also struggling to compose yourself. 

“That’s so thoughtful," he pauses and looks over the regifted doll. “This is from your room, isn’t it?”

She nods shamelessly. “Do you like it?” she asks, innocent eyes lit wide and huge.

“I love it,” he kisses her forehead. “Thank you, princess.” You watch as he then removes the attached envelope, a saddened grin replacing the cheerful one before as he reads over the face of the card inside — ‘I got the best dad in the world’ printed large and proud on the front beside an ink transfer of her small hand. It was really a warming sight to see him get choked up by it, rather beautiful really, to see his doubts get reassured in real time: that he is a good dad, despite questioning himself not to be.

⎯ ☆ ⎯

[sweetsbfreex]

Bucky gets drafted I

summary: what if bucky was never taken from hydra? What if through all his ptsd, Bucky had a wife and two kids to come back to. 

wc: 2259

warnings: talk of war?

-

February 1942

The whirring of the machinery is heard throughout the brownstone. It’s only twelve, but everyone has been fed and you need to finish this before Sunday. A beautiful red smock dress to wear with black mary janes and ruffle socks. 

You had to, your sweet Adelaide had pleaded with you for a new dress. Not in an ungrateful manner, no, but this Sunday the Children’s choir would sing for everyone. So here you are, focused, pushing through the red cotton as the matching thread pierces through. 

Bucky is on child duty. Seven-year-old Adelaide practices her reading, ever the perfect girl, sitting prim on the floor, legs out and a book between. Ten-month-old Georgie (George), named after the late George Barnes, plays with his wooden blocks next to his sister. Stacks them, then crashes them down. 

Bucky is sat up at the end of the couch, ears pierced to the radio. The list of rationing only grew, the fear for his family only grew, many women were working now, volunteering their time away from their families. It seems things are only getting worse before they get better. 

He sighs, deflating into the sofa at what he’s hearing. 

“Daddy?” a voice snaps him out. 

“Hm?” he answers.

“What is this word?” Adelaide points at her book, as if he could see a thing. So he waves her over and when she’s close, sits her on his leg. 

“What word, Addie?” he asks and she points to the word again.  “Sound it out with me, ‘skw-er-l’” 

She tries and tries, and within those attempts James is there to guide her along, encouraging her to try again when she doesn’t get it right.

His bright spark he likes to call her at times. She’s intuitive and loves to learn. Every night, without fail, either him or y/n were meant to quiz her on at least ten words, like a spelling bee. If there was room to ask why, she would.

A rap is heard on the door. 

“Who’s that?” Addie asks. The attention of Georgie is also grabbed as he looks up at his father with an open mouth and a wood block in hand. 

“I’ll go find out, look after your brother and keep practicing” he kisses the side of her head, before setting her beside him, and walking straight to the door. 

…

“James Buchanan Barnes?” is the first thing Bucky hears from a pristine young-man standing on his welcome mat. A pressed black dress shirt, green tailored pants, a green tie, with shining wing tipped black shoes, and a side cap dresses up the man. 

The man’s eyes are void, almost sad (if he could guess) and he has to stop himself from looking at the gash on his cheek. 

“Yes."

An envelope is thrusted towards him and his heart drops, he could hear it shatter from a mile away. His ma wouldn’t take well to this, his sister wouldn’t, Steve definitely wouldn't, weeks without seeing his kid’s bright face would kill him. Y/n. 

“What is this?” he looks down at the letter accusingly, keeping his trembling hands by his side. 

“Mr. Barnes” The man persists, his voice softer it seems, as if he gives his condolences. 

“Thank you” Bucky has no choice but to smile and take the letter from the man’s outstretched hand. 

The man gives a curt nod in response and walks away, to hover a stormy cloud over someone else’s bright day it seems. It seems the list can only grow larger, will it ever end? He shuts the door and stares down at the envelope in his hands. His name and the address of their home is written neatly in the middle. 

He rips the bandage off his bruise. Ripping into the envelope until the letter is open and held between his hands, and his eyes fly over the ink. 

To, James Buchanan Barnes

notified that you been selected…army

report to the Local Board named above at 107th Infantry Regiment.

10:00 am on the 26 day of February, 1942. 

Only a week. 

“Daddy!” Addy calls for him impatiently. 

“One- one second, sweet girl. Just need to talk your ma for a split” he shouts back, before hearing her dramatic sigh in response. 

He strides to the stark white door of her sewing room, knocks once to get her attention then walks in. His wife is sitting at her sewing table, whose eyebrows are knit and her bottom lip rolled in. Just like his sweet Addie. Unlike many men, James had no problem letting everyone know both their kiddos got their brightness from Y/n. 

“Honey,” Bucky calls out, fingers fiddling with the papers. 

“Yes? I’m almost done, honey, do the kids need anything?” she glances up swiftly, then goes back to her work. 

“I just need to talk to you for a quick second, if that’s alright.” 

She removes her hand from the crank of the sewing machine. Noticing the worry clouding her husband's features. The swish of her polka dotted, a-line dress fills the air.  

Her hand clutches the lapel of his striped suit, while the other splays against his forehead, “What’s wrong, honey, are you out of sorts?” His skin felt normal and his eyes weren’t the prickly pink they usually were when he was sick. 

“No, no, I’m solid.”

At least he hopes he would be, he thinks to himself. Removing her hand from his forehead and kissing her knuckles gently. He can subconsciously feel the heat rising in her cheeks, watching her eyes look at anywhere but him. 

Time to rip off the second bandage. He raises the letter between the two of you. She stops and stares intently at the piece of paper and the envelope next to it. 

“What is this?” she asks, staring into his sky-blue eyes. 

Bucky doesn’t need to say anything, his softening eyes tell her everything she needs to know. Bucky couldn’t fool the young man at his step, and there was no way Y/n would be able to fool Bucky. 

“I leave in a week”

She lets out a breath, before she’s stepping away. One hand splays over her waist while the other presses a hand to her throat. Her head shakes side to side as tears pool in her eyes. She shouldn’t be surprised, Bucky is perfect in every way. Healthy in every way, of course he would be drafted. They both knew this, when was the only question that dangled in front of their faces.

“It’ll be okay. Doll, look at me” he clasps your flushed face tilting it up. 

“Oh, Bucky this is-- this is--” her words break up and before she knows it she’s broken into an uncontrollable sob, shoulders bobbing and an unbroken stream falls down her face. 

He hushes you, bringing you to his chest as his hands run up and down your back. 

“You can’t leave me, us… Trash it!” you pull away, eyes wide and tinted. “They’ll never know, Bucky”

“Honey, you’re talking junk, you know that can’t happen.” he coos, his palms take her face once again, thumbs running circles on her cheeks. 

“Please.” 

She wasn’t in her right mind is the only excuse she can think of. Her mind is running a mile a minute with a thousand gory scenarios, things she’s only read about and heard about. She didn’t want any of that for Bucky. 

“It’ll be okay, I’ll be okay and i’ll come to the three of you in one piece” he crouches down slightly, so you’re at the same eye level “I promise” he speaks softly. 

“You can’t promise something like that”

“I can and I will” he brings you into his chest, kissing the top of your head. 

“Would you be dismayed if I proposed that you break a leg? You’d still be an honorable man in my eyes” she says, voice muffled against his dress shirt. 

“It’ll be okay, honey, I promise” he answers with a breathy chuckle at the end. 

-

That night he breaks the news to Addie. She tries to stay strong at first, only humming in response with a tight smile on her face before tears run down her face silently. He consoles her as much as he can. Reassuring her that he would be alright, that everything would be alright. At some point this would all end and she’d have him back in one piece. And it repeats itself twice as he consoles his mother and sister. 

Telling Steve was one of the easiest bandages, no sticky residue was left behind.. He, of course, took in the slight disappointment on Steve’s face. Steve’s been trying like hell to get enlisted, the only thing holding him back was the long list of health issues and his small stature. 

Never the matter, he’s proud of Bucky. He knows his sharp mind will keep him safe. He’ll miss him while he’s gone and he’s promised to keep an eye on his favorite three while they’re gone. As long as he’s known Bucky, never in a million years did he see him falling in love and settling down with anyone.

“Don’t do anything stupid while I’m gone,” Bucky points a playful accusatory finger towards Steve.

Steve only chuckles breathily before he’s slammed into Bucky’s chest. 

-

The week whirls by, as if Y/n’s prayers for the days to slow down even for just a second aren't heard. Just three days ago Bucky stopped by the enlistment depot to get everything he needs, including his uniform. 

Two days ago, after getting home from work, Bucky had taken a quick nap in the living room. George laid on his chest, his chubby cheeks squished against the breast of his coat; and his tiny fist clasped around a lock of Bucky’s hair. On the other side of Bucky, lays Adelaide, who snuggles up to his side while she watches the television. 

Adelaide has stuck to her father’s side like glue this past week. 

You stood by and watched the three silently, like a shadow, knowing days like this were slowly dissipating until his departure. 

His last day at home, Bucky takes his family to Coney Island, their favorite place. Bucky doesn’t let money hold him back as he throws it all away to put a smile on his kid’s faces. He buys them as many tickets as they need, gets them whatever they want to eat, and wins them as many stuffed animals as he can-- sending a wink to his wife as he throws the rings onto the milk bottles. Knowing how bittersweet this moment was, their first date was Coney Island, and now he’s winning her a prize, like all those years ago, except he’s going off to war. 

Presently, the both of you lay in your dimly luminated bedroom. Bucky has just read Adelaide, her last bedtime story for an unknown time, he’s made it extra special by doing a voice for every character and acoustic effects at every scene. 

Your head is laid in the crook of his neck, and a hand runs up and around his toned chest. You’re winded within his arms, his fingers running circles around your shoulder. 

At the moment all you wanted was to sink into him like the sugar cubes in his coffee. You wanted to keep everything about him in eidetic memory. 

The slope and flat bridge of his nose, his startlingly-intense blue eyes that always looked at you with adoration, his always perfectly gelled hair, and his heart of gold that fills his family with love (something most of your friends couldn’t say.) 

Bucky did the same, engraving everything from your scent to the plush of your skin to his mind. 

A moment passes before you speak up. 

“I don’t know what to say, and I know i’ll regret it later”

“You don’t gotta say anything, just promise you’ll take care of yourself and the kids, maybe visit Steve once in a while or invite him to dinner. Just make sure he’s alright?”

You nod in agreement. 

The way Bucky acts on his overcome emotions is automatic. He pulls you in for a searing kiss, his hands roaming all over your body as if it were braille. Your hands rest on his broad shoulders, squeezing them when Bucky pulls away from your lips to your neck. 

The night is full of heavy, panting breaths and scorching, gently touches. 

When Bucky does that trick you love so much, you have to muffle yourself in your pillow. 

The night is filled with sugared words from Bucky. As he calls you his sweet girl, kisses you everywhere he can, and drains you with every push of his hips. 

-

Afterwards, the both of you are slicked in sweat. You both lay on your sides, facing each other, and holding onto each other. Time seems endless in his embrace. 

“J-James” 

Everything overcomes you within minutes, as you cover your face. It’s wretched and draining as the mountain collapses. It was happening. He would be leaving in just a few hours, and there was nothing she could do about it. 

Bucky pulls your head into his chest swiftly, shushing you as he cradles the back of your head. Kissing the top of your head in comfort. 

“You-- You have to p-promise to come back safely.” You pull away from his chest, eyes glazed over in tears. 

“Baby, you know I can’t promise that. All I can tell you is that I’ll try my best. I promise I'll try my best.” 

-

tysm for reading!! I missed writing and can't wait to tell this story <3

pls don't forget to like & reblog

[knowledgeableknitter]

Ours to Keep

Welcome to a new series! This will be a 4-part found-baby trope fic, with about 24k words, featuring Bucky Barnes x you. Canonically, it falls around the same time as FATWS, and Bucky and you (and Sam) work for the GRC (Global Repatriation Council). There will be lots of emotions, as well as some hilarity and domesticity.

I will not be posting an overall summary here so as not to spoil future parts, but I've listed the trigger warnings for the entire story. This is a completely clean fic, though I am already considering a 4-part continuation which may involve some spice.

Trigger Warnings: genetically engineered baby girl treated as a weapon/threat; Bucky having feelings (all kinds); you and Bucky taking care of a baby including: baby sleeping on a super soldier's chest (that is SUCH a warning), a big baby spit-up, a diaper explosion, and streaming pee; medical testing of you and Bucky (including blood draw with butterfly needle, fMRI, neural brain mapping, etc); cute little date; one kiss. Oh, and you like Star Wars, for the sake of hilarious conversation.

WARNING: MAY CAUSE BABY FEVER

Blog Masterlist

Chapter 1: The Extraction

Chapter 2: The Safe House

Chapter 3: The Fight

Chapter 4: The Choice

Will be posted M-W-F at 4pm EST until complete.

Message me if you want to be added to the tag list! (or removed, lol)

Tag list: @lovely-seb @calwitch @its-in-the-woods @ficmeiguess @yesiamthatwierd @kitasownworld

[oneofstarkskids]

you knew it

bucky barnes x reader

part 3: !!fluffy pregnancy fic!!

summary: a visit to the doctor's office has you and bucky fully grasping the weight of your newfound responsibilities.

part 1, part 2

you cradled your slightly bloated stomach. you were quite a bit further along and it was time for the very first ultrasound. your mind was muddled with a series of unlikely 'what if's'.

what if nothing shows up? what if you forgot to take off a piece of jewelry? what if the baby turns out to be a foreign alien creature growing inside of you that you have to hide from the government to prevent it from being experimented on?

see. unlikely, but never impossible.

bucky squeezed your hand comfortingly as you laid back against the hospital chair.

a heavy breath escaped your lungs as you settled. waiting for the doctor felt like a lifetime. you kept shifting and tapping and counting the ceiling tiles.

finally, she walked in. "it's nice to meet you," the woman said as she shook bucky's hand and then yours. you did your best to seem unbothered, but even as she was applying the cool gel to your belly you debated getting up and sprinting out of there.

bucky could tell you were still on edge. he always could. without making it too obvious, he managed to shuffle a bit closer to you, your hands still intertwined.

the doctor began swiping the device across your exposed skin and looking to the monitor for details.

you couldn't make anything out and your nerves spiked once again...that was until you heard it. the faintest little heartbeat coming from the monitor.

you were frozen in the moment and suddenly realized that,

this was real.

you were going to have a baby. be a mom.

you should've been scared shitless.

but something about that tiny little drum beat washed away all your worries.

once you could take your eyes off of the screen, you looked over at bucky who was shamelessly wiping his tears away with the back of his hand.

"oh," you partially laughed, and partially cried before pulling his hand to your face and placing a kiss across his knuckles.

the sonographer smiled at the wholesome moment before leaving the two of you to fully process it.

your hand once again ghosted over your stomach and you barely even whispered, "we're going to be parents."

tag list;

@hisredheadedgoddess28 @moviegurl2002 @quinquinquincy @umadirectioner @daisyvrhan

[heldbybarnes]

What would boobs obsessed bucky do if his son only sleeps on his mama's chest. Like he'll cry until she cradles him close and bucky is totally distraught because not only he nurses off her, now bucky can't even cuddle her at night....

i was dying writing this the whole time lmao. omg i loved it

----------

You’d never seen Bucky pout quite like this. Not when you teased him about his Brooklyn accent. Not when you dragged him through IKEA on a Saturday. Not even when you finished the last of his favorite cake without saving him a slice.

No, this was different.

Because your newborn son had just claimed the throne Bucky thought was his God-given right: your chest.

The baby was only three weeks old, impossibly small, all pink lips and sleepy fists. And yet he had an iron grip on the one thing Bucky Barnes worshipped most.

Your boobs.

And not just for nursing, which Bucky had tolerated in a grumbly, jealous way that made you laugh. But now? Now your baby boy refused to sleep anywhere except cradled against your chest. The moment you set him in the bassinet or even tried to roll him to his father’s side, he wailed like his tiny world was ending.

It was two in the morning when Bucky voiced the complaint that had been simmering for days.

“This ain’t fair,” he muttered, lying flat on his back beside you, glaring at the ceiling as if it were in on the conspiracy. His voice was rough from lack of sleep, but the bitterness in it made you stifle a giggle. “First he steals my spot at the table—”

“Bucky,” you whispered, careful not to jostle the baby snoozing on your chest. “He’s breastfeeding. He needs me to eat.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Bucky grumbled. “And now he steals my spot in bed too? Doll, I used to fall asleep with my face right there.” His metal finger pointed accusingly at the exact slope of your breast where your son was snuggled, cheek squished, mouth slack.

You bit your lip, suppressing laughter. “You used to fall asleep sucking on me too, but I don’t see you crying about it.”

“Don’t tempt me.” Bucky turned on his side to glare at you, though it lacked heat. Mostly it was heartbreak. “Do you know what it’s like, sittin’ here every night, watchin’ him live my dream?”

You snorted, brushing your hand through his mussed hair. “You’re ridiculous.”

“I’m serious!” Bucky kept his voice low, though his indignation bubbled. “Look at him. All cuddled up on you, hoggin’ the goods. I been waitin’ all day to hold you, doll, and then—boom. Outta luck ‘cause the little punk starts cryin’ the second I touch you.”

The baby made a soft cooing noise in his sleep, nestling closer. Bucky’s bottom lip trembled. “See? He knows I’m talking about him. He knows he’s winning.”

You shook your head, trying not to laugh too loud. “He’s not your competition, Buck. He’s your son.”

Bucky groaned, flopping onto his stomach dramatically. His vibranium arm stretched across the bed like a sulking teenager. “Yeah, but he’s ruthless. Ruthless, doll. Won’t even let me cop a feel without screamin’ bloody murder. If this keeps up, he’s gonna forget I’m his dad and think I’m just some guy who walks the floorboards at night.”

Your free hand reached out, brushing his scruffy jaw. “He’ll grow out of it. He just finds comfort in my heartbeat right now.”

“That’s supposed to be my job.” His blue eyes were pitiful, huge in the dim light. “I’m supposed to be your comfort. Your pillow. Your teddy bear. Instead, I’m sittin’ here like a third wheel in my own marriage.”

“You’re being dramatic.”

“Am not.”

You smirked. “Fine. You’re being adorable.”

That earned you a grudging snort, but his expression didn’t soften. You could see how much it gnawed at him. Not the baby’s needs—Bucky adored his son, worshipped him almost as much as he worshipped you. But Bucky had been starved of touch for so many years that now, in this domestic life you’d built together, he craved closeness constantly. You knew his love language wasn’t just physical—it was skin to skin, pressed tight, like reassurance that you were still here, still his.

And right now, that spot was occupied.

You brushed your thumb over his temple. “Come here.”

He blinked. “What?”

“Come cuddle. There’s room.”

Bucky gave the baby a skeptical glance. “Pretty sure the boss won’t approve.”

“Just try.”

Hesitant, like he was approaching a wild animal, Bucky scooted closer. His arm wrapped gently around your waist, and his nose brushed your hairline. The baby stirred but didn’t wake. Bucky froze, wide-eyed.

“See?” you whispered. “Not so bad.”

He let out a breath, tension melting. His chest pressed against your side, and slowly, the lines of jealousy eased from his face. “Okay,” he admitted softly. “This… ain’t so bad.”

You smiled, nestling into his embrace. “You’ll get your boobs back eventually.”

He grunted. “They better come with back pay.”

You snickered into his shoulder.

Of course, Bucky’s distress didn’t end there.

Every afternoon, when you napped with the baby on your chest, Bucky hovered like a watchdog. He tried to sneak his hand across, to rest on your waist or thigh, but the baby would fuss the second he felt competition.

One night, desperate, Bucky attempted negotiations.

“Listen, pal,” he whispered at your slumbering son, crouched by the bassinet like a conspirator. “I get it. She’s warm, she smells good, she’s got the best pillows in the world. But you gotta share. That’s rule number one in this family. Share.”

The baby kicked in his sleep, unimpressed.

Bucky sighed. “Yeah, I figured. You’re just like your mama. Stubborn as hell.”

You caught him later, slumping into bed with a tragic expression. “He said no,” Bucky muttered.

“He’s three weeks old,” you reminded him, laughing.

“Still said no.”

It wasn’t until a particularly rough night—teething pains already starting—that Bucky got what he wanted. You’d been pacing the bedroom with the wailing baby pressed to your chest, exhaustion etched into your face.

“Doll, let me try,” Bucky said gently.

“He won’t settle with anyone else,” you murmured.

“Just let me.”

Carefully, you passed the baby over. Bucky cradled his son against his bare chest, vibranium hand supporting his tiny back. He began humming softly—an old Brooklyn lullaby you’d heard him sing under his breath.

The baby fussed, whimpered… and then, miraculously, calmed. His tiny head turned, cheek pressing against the expanse of Bucky’s pec. His fist curled into the dusting of hair there. And slowly, he drifted off.

Your mouth fell open. “What?”

Bucky’s eyes lit up with victorious glee. “Ha! See? I got the magic touch too!” He puffed his chest out proudly, careful not to jostle the baby. “Guess these boobs aren’t half bad either.”

You laughed until tears pricked your eyes. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Ridiculously relieved,” he corrected, gazing down at his son with awe. “Look at that, doll. He’s mine too. Not just yours.”

Your heart swelled at the sight of them, father and son breathing in tandem, both finally at peace.

Later, when you all collapsed into bed, the baby nestled against Bucky’s chest instead of yours. And for the first time in weeks, you rolled into Bucky’s arms, your cheek pillowed on the other side of his chest.

“See?” you whispered sleepily. “Plenty of room.”

Bucky’s grin was soft, triumphant. “Told you. Daddy’s still got it.”

And that night, with his family curled against him, Bucky finally slept without a hint of jealousy.

Though in the morning, when you reached for your son, Bucky tightened his hold possessively.

“Nope,” he said, eyes still closed, voice smug. “My turn. You hogged him long enough.”

“Bucky—”

“Sorry, doll. Boobs closed for business. He’s all about the chest hair now.”

You rolled your eyes, laughing into the pillow. “God help us.”

“Already did,” Bucky murmured, kissing the baby’s head. “Gave me you two.”

[mercurial-chuckles]

Bucky Barnes vs. Ethan Stark

Pairing: Dad!Bucky Barnes x Mom!Reader Word Count: ~2.5k Warnings: Sap | Overloaded fluff | Silver fox Bucky(?) | Language | Allusions to spicy times | MDNI | Protective dad Bucky | Grumpy Bucky | Ethan 'Menace' Stark | Friends to lovers trope | Chaos galore | Tom Welling as Ethan Stark 🤭 | very much Unbeta'd | Let me know if I'm missing anything. A/N: This is one of the fics that got scraped. And what better day to repost dad!Bucky than Father's Day? There are allusions to SMUT, but I'm not labeling it because my fics aren't showing up under fic-tags. I reached out to Tumblr support and waiting for them to resolve it, but until then, consider this as a label. @soelstress sowed this idea in my head after reading Sappy Sunday Thought. Thank you, my lovely Soels! I have no clue how far and how deep I'm gonna spiral with this, but hey...this is a start. 💕🤭 Note: Do not Steal, Copy, or Plagiarize any part of my work! Banner and Divider credits to me. Picture credits to the Pinterest. Thank you :) Check out my other works: Masterlist

Indulge Away!

According to Bucky, you were a savage.

Bucky was ecstatic until you soured his mood. Because you'd waited until three orgasms later to tell him, right after he pounded you against the wall, while his brain was still trying to catch up, when you delivered the blow. No pun there.

He woke up utterly happy that morning. Your daughter, Olivia, was coming home for the summer. She'd just completed her junior year at university, and you had both been counting the days until you saw your baby.

Over the past month, your daughter and husband had been busy planning quite a few activities for all of you. Bucky had even cut down most of his training schedule for the summer too. You, unfortunately, didn't have the same luxury. The project you and Tony had been working on with DOE was heading into fabrication, and you needed to put in a few more days of brutal work hours before you could dial down.

This visit was extra special. Olivia hadn't been home last summer. She'd spent it halfway across the country, interning at a start-up company in a research program, which she still heard her Uncle Tony whine about it. Most holidays were little weekend sprints. But this time, she was staying for the whole summer.

'Coz this time, she'd landed an internship with the research team at the compound after clearing a written exam and three rounds of interviews. Out of all the applicants, she was one of the three selected to intern at Avengers Initiative.

Tony had no idea, and Olivia had begged Pepper and Maria to keep it low. Olivia was too humble. She was determined to prove herself on her merit, not wanting anyone to think she'd been accepted into the program simply because of her connections. You were proud of your daughter. But there was no doubt Tony would be squealing when he found out Olivia was back and working at the compound, no less.

Bucky had been practically buzzing with excitement, already pulling on his jacket to head for the airport when you casually told him that he'd also be picking up Ethan Stark, who was flying with Olivia.

Bucky's pleasure-ridden mood fizzled out drastically. He turned to glare at you.

On the same fucking plane.

The absolute nightmare.

"Why the fuck was I not aware of this?" He snapped, stalking after you as you got dressed for work.

"Bucky," you sighed, not even sparing him a glance. You were running late, and it was all Bucky's fault. He couldn't keep his hands to himself, not that you minded very much.

It wasn't unpopular that your husband despised Ethan Stark from the moment Olivia was born--mostly because that kid had taken an immediate, obnoxious liking toward his daughter. And it had only gotten worse over time.

"No, seriously. Did you know that they were flying together?" Bucky pressed, backing you up against the couch with his hands caging you in. You tried to shuffle away, but he pushed his thigh between your legs.

"Hey," you squeaked, giggling and squirming, a little sensitive from earlier.

You tried to push him away, chuckling, but he didn't budge. Of course, he didn't. Instead, he flexed his muscles just right, making you moan.

"Tell me," he demanded. You found his pouty, murderous expression endearing.

Honestly, you knew exactly what you were doing. You'd only found out last night that Olivia and Ethan were flying home together. Smart girl that she was, Olivia hadn't breathed a word to her dad either, probably because it was common knowledge in your house that Bucky had a short fuse where Ethan Stark was concerned.

You hadn't meant to hide it.

Maybe you did.

You just figured it wasn't worth mentioning since Ethan already had a ride home from the airport, and you knew Bucky would go no matter what to pick Olivia. So, you decided not to poke the bear, if not required. But then Pepper called, asking for a favor, and honestly, you could never say no to her.

You sighed, winding your arms around his neck. Bucky leaned into you without the slightest resistance, his scorching blue eyes fanning the embers, sparking that wicked burn inside your core.

Fuck, he looked delectable. You'd gotten ridiculously lucky. The silver in his beard, the faint crinkles at the corners of his eyes, and those soft pink lips- all of it made you giddy. And he was all yours.

You pushed up onto your toes, one hand sliding to cup his jaw, your thumb dragging lightly over the coarse scruff. Bucky's breath came slower, as he relaxed into your touch, his jaw unclenching under your touch as he melted closer, letting you pull him exactly where you wanted.

"Bucky," you said sweetly, gently, pecking his lips and scratching lightly at the nape of his neck.

He groaned against your lips, moving to take more, but you slightly inched away, "They've been friends forever. They go to the same school."

"Yeah, still haven't gotten over that shit," Bucky grumbled, recalling the day Olivia got an admit to MIT, where Ethan Stark was pursuing his PhD.

"Ethan's a good kid. Besides, he really cares about her," You added before you could stop yourself.

And boy, you really should have shut up after 'good kid.'

Bucky looked absolutely repulsed, like you'd suggested he walk Olivia down the aisle- something you weren't supposed to talk about, let alone think, according to him. That was his rule. To him, Olivia was still his little baby, and he didn't have to worry about that just yet.

"Exactly. That's the fucking problem," Bucky growled, looking like he was about to punch something.

Ugh! You banged your head against his chest, frustrated.

This was going to be a long summer.

You wished Steve or Sam were here instead of on a mission. They would've picked up the kids from the airport without throwing a fit, unlike your husband.

"I'm NOT getting into this discussion. AGAIN. I need to get to the lab, or Tony's gonna roast me," you warned, wiggling out of his grip, and he reluctantly let you.

"Pepper asked. Please, Buck?" you requested again, rushing toward the door. When you heard nothing, you glanced back to see him sulking on the couch, arms crossed, frown still intact. He looked way too adorable for your own good.

Groaning, you marched back to him and dropped yourself into his lap. His hands automatically wound around you, helping you straddle his lap and tugging you closer, still refusing to look at you.

Stubborn little shit!

You ran your thumb over the crease between his brows.

"Bucky, please?"

"No."

"Bucky."

"No."

"I'll do anything," you tried, wiggling your brows.

"Don't bribe me with your body. It's mine." Bucky exclaimed, squeezing your tit in retaliation. He was not wrong. That kind of deal never worked on your husband.

"Bucky," you tried again, exasperated.

"Fine, anything?" He asked, eyes narrowed at you.

You nodded earnestly.

"Call Pepper and tell her I can't pick up her son." He scoffed.

When you sat there with your game face, silently throwing daggers and not ready to budge, he finally gave in.

"Fine," he conceded, rolling his eyes at you before pulling you in for a kiss.

****

Cramped into the narrow economy seat on a completely packed flight, Olivia Barnes was a nervous wreck. She hadn't planned to be anxious she was super excited to finally see you and her dad, but then her phone buzzed just as they were taxiing for takeoff.

Livi, Dad's gonna pick you and Ethan up. Love you. Can't wait to see you. Safe travels to you both.

Her stomach dropped.

Uh-oh.

Normally, that kind of text wouldn't bother her that much.

Except things were different now.

Very different.

Olivia knew her dad wasn't exactly a fan of Ethan- or any of her guy friends, for that matter. Bucky had a way of scaring most of her guy friends without even trying, but Ethan was different. He didn't scare easily. Olivia actually kind of enjoyed the back-and-forth between the two of them. But now, things were different. Now, she wanted Ethan to be in her dad's good books. Scratch that- his best books.

The tall, annoyingly handsome man sitting next to her, currently wrestling to fit his long legs into a comfortable position, was no longer just her best friend. He was her boyfriend. And no one knew. Well, except for Morgan and most surely aunt Nat.

Trying to steady her racing heart, Olivia leaned toward Ethan and hissed under her breath, "Why didn't you just sit in first class when they offered?"

Right before boarding, an airline associate had bumped Ethan's seat to first class--the perks of being Ethan Stark, son of the legendary Tony Stark.

A girl had recognized him despite his pathetic disguise of a baseball cap and dark glasses. "How's the ruse working, Superman?" Olivia had teased when the associate beamed at him, whispering about the upgrade. Ethan had flat-out denied it and stubbornly refused, choosing to stay right next to Olivia.

"In your dreams," he said now, flashing a grin that made her stomach flip warmly. "I'm sitting right next to you. Deal with it."

To make his point clear, Ethan moved one of his legs between hers, lifting her leg onto his and resting his hand on her thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze.

Olivia rolled her eyes and shoved her phone toward him, showing him your text.

Ethan read it.

Blinked.

Blinked.

Blinked some more.

Then chuckled low and rough in his chest.

"Fuck me," he muttered, wide-eyed, looking at her.

"Ethan," Olivia snapped quietly, swatting his hand away from her thigh. "You need to be on your absolute best behavior. I mean it. Do not, I repeat, do not irk him."

"I never do," Ethan scoffed, leaning back in his seat. He pulled her hand into his, interlacing his fingers with hers. "He just hates me because I love you."

Olivia groaned, helplessly.

"Are you listening?" she grumbled weakly. "Until we break it to your mom and dad, and my mom, and Uncle Stevie and Sammy, we are playing it cool."

"And, will you stay as far away from as humanly possible, please?" she added.

Ethan smacked his lips in annoyance, squinting at her.

"Yeah, that? Can't do that," he said stubbornly, inching closer, and quickly pecked her lips.

"Ethan," she glared at him, "I'm fucking serious."

"So am I," he said simply.

"I can't!" He shrugged. "How am I supposed to hold back when you keep looking at me like that?"

"I'm glaring at you," Olivia said flatly.

"And you're hot," Ethan said, sniggering as he shamelessly snuggled his head onto her shoulder.

"Guess you'll have to try real hard then," she muttered, trying not to laugh. He was warm, smelled so good, and his floofy hair tickled her neck.

"Fine," he sighed dramatically, sitting up with a little pout. But not before stealing a quick kiss on her shoulder, making her stomach tingle.

"Fuck you, Ethan," she said, picking up the magazine from the flap in front of her, trying to distract herself.

"I'm game," he whispered warmly against her ear, winking at her.

Feeling her entire face heat up, she beat him with the magazine. He simply laughed.

"Alright. Distance. Noted," he chuckled, but made himself comfortable again, resting his head on the curve of her shoulder. He slept there for the next hour.

Not that she minded.

~

By the time the plane landed in LaGuardia, Olivia was more anxious.

Bucky's text was already waiting when they turned their phones back on.

Shared my location. See ya in a bit. Love you, sweetheart.

Olivia's palms were sweating.

They had to be friendly... but not too friendly.

Close enough to not look suspicious. Distant enough to protect Ethan from her dad's wrath.

To her absolute horror, Ethan snuck in a kiss at the baggage claim. "Don't know when I'll see you alone again," he said dramatically. As Olivia reached for her suitcase, he snagged her wrist, pulling her into him for a kiss.

Olivia jerked back so fast that she nearly toppled the luggage cart.

"Are you out of your mind?!" she whisper-yelled, throwing a frantic look around.

Ethan snorted, "Relax, my Livi. Your dad's outside," he said smugly, showing her phone where Bucky's location was blinking.

She gave him a dirty glare and marched ahead, clutching her backpack tightly.

And that's exactly how Bucky found them a few minutes later- Olivia marching stiffly forward, searching for him, with Ethan trailing behind her, grinning.

His gaze narrowed the second he spotted them.

What started as a survival skill, observation became instinctual for Bucky Barnes. And he was hyper-focused when you or his daughter were in the picture.

So, he didn't miss the way Olivia's ears turned pink when she saw him.

He didn't miss the way Ethan instinctively shifted a little closer to her before catching himself and awkwardly veering right.

When Olivia rushed to hug him happily, he didn't miss the smell of Ethan Stark's perfume on his daughter.

He didn't miss a damn thing.

~

Bucky barely said a word to Ethan after the initial greeting.

"Ethan," Bucky acknowledged with a curt nod.

"Sir," Ethan replied with a grin.

Olivia climbed into the passenger seat, nervous, while Ethan tossed both of their bags into the trunk before sliding into the back seat. He positioned himself right behind her seat.

Bucky glanced at them both, his eyes flickering between Olivia's stiff posture and Ethan's relaxed form.

"Good flight?" he asked casually.

"Great!" Olivia blurted out, flashing a smile.

"Terrible," Ethan chimed in simultaneously, leaning back with a dramatic sigh.

Olivia shot him a look through the side mirror.

Bucky's eyebrows lifted slightly, his gaze shifting to the mirror where he caught Ethan's reflection.

"Terrible?" he echoed, starting the car.

Ethan shrugged. "Well, you know… long legs and economy seats."

"Thought you'd travel first-class," Bucky pointed out, pulling out onto the next lane.

Olivia stiffened.

"Dad," Olivia chided. This passive aggression was nothing new, but that remark wasn't cool.

Ethan chuckled, "Yeah, well… first class is a bit expensive, sir. I'm saving money."

Apart from a million other things, this was what Olivia loved the most about him. Ethan Stark was a self-made man, just like her. She noticed the slight twitch at the corner of her dad's lips, a nearly imperceptible sign of approval at Ethan's answer.

That was a damn miracle right there.

Great job, Ethan! She thought...too soon, though.

"Though they did bump me into first class, I couldn't leave Livi alone back there," Ethan added.

Fucking menace was what he was! Ugh! Dickhead!

Olivia nearly facepalmed.

Bucky's eyes flicked toward her, then back to the road. "Didn't realize you two couldn't survive a couple of hours apart," he bit out.

The tension in the car thickened instantly.

Olivia forced a laugh that sounded more like a choking. "Dad…"

"Kidding," Bucky hummed, his tone unreadable.

He was so not kidding, alright!

For a few agonizing moments, there was nothing but silence. Olivia stared determinedly out the window, holding back the urge to scream at the man she loved- and at the same time, wanting to kick him out of the car so she could breathe and catch up with her dad normally.

God, he was annoying. She specifically told him not to irk her dad, but nope. What was he even thinking?

Meanwhile, Ethan seemed entirely too comfortable lounging in the back seat, utterly unbothered by the tension filling in the tiny space.

Quite dreadful, really. And the summer had barely even started.

Well?

Leave your thoughts if you enjoyed reading it. 💞✨

If you'd like to be tagged/removed from my works, please do so here.

[evansbuckle]

Mechanic!Singledad!Bucky Barnes AU

Woop woop it's part five! I'm so grateful for the love that this little series has received and I'm so thankful people are reading and enjoying this! Thank you for taking the time <3 Likes & reblogs are always appreciated!

Wordcount: 2.9k

Warnings: Reader referred to as y/n & uses she/her pronouns, smut, kissing, sick kids, hospitals (and thus me pretending I know about hospitals), swearing i think, grammer - proofread but not well.

masterlist part one part two part three part four part six

I woke up at 4am to the shrill sound of my phone ringing.

“Bucky?”

“I’m sorry, I know it’s late but I just, I didn’t, I didn’t know who else to call.”

“Is everything okay?” I sat up, accidentally waking Cheryl who was asleep at the bottom of my bed. I got up, turning the light on.

“I’m in the hospital and I-”

“What?”

“No well, not me, Becky’s-”

“I’m on my way.”

“Thanks, sugar.”

I called a taxi, getting dressed as quick as I could, trying not to let my brain race. Before long the taxi gets there, and I sprint out of my apartment. 

It doesn’t take long to get to the hospital, and it doesn’t take long to find the Barnes’ either. Bucky sat in a chair by the bed that Becky was asleep in, an IV hooked to her little arm.

I all but ran over to Bucky, kneeling down in front of him, grabbing his hands into mine.

“Hey,” I whisper. He startles at my presence, and pulls me up into a bone-crushing hug the second he realises it’s me. I wrap one arm around his neck, the other rubbing his back. “What happened?” 

Before he could answer, a doctor walked into the room. “Mrs Barnes, glad you could make it.” She doesn’t give me a chance to correct her before continuing, “Good news, Becky’s going to be fine. It’s gastroenteritis. Stomach bug.” I feel Bucky’s body relax just a little. “She’s dehydrated, which is what the IV here is for, and we’d like to keep her overnight and then reassess tomorrow morning.”

“So she’s okay?” I ask, looking over the girl in the bed. She’s not very big as is, but seeing her in the hospital bed makes her seem even smaller. 

“She’s stopped throwing up, so looks like she’s on the mend. I’ll get another bed brought in for you.”

The doctor leaves, and Bucky sits back down, grabbing onto her hand. “I don’t know how it happened, she didn’t eat anything bad at home, maybe I wasn’t paying attention.” He whispers, head hung low.

“Stomach bugs don’t happen just through eating, babe. She could’ve caught it off someone at school, kids get sick so easily.” I place my hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently. He looked up at me, his eyes glassy. “She’s going to be okay, Bucky. Once she gets all hydrated, she’s going to be okay. It’s not your fault.”

“I should’ve known.” 

“How? You can’t feel her stomach for her Buck.”

He shakes his head, a tear escaping. “I should’ve known something was off with her.” He wipes at his face as a nurse walks in, pushing in a bed. I nod toward it when he leaves, “Lie down at least.” 

Bucky looks over, brows furrowed. 

“I’m not saying go to sleep, just lie down. I’ll go grab you some water, or something. Do you want a snack?” He shakes his head again, lying down on the second bed, not taking his eyes off Becky.

I leave them for a moment, walking over to the vending machine. I grab a water, and some crisps too. The overhead lights flicker a bit, the place buzzing. It smells clean, like bleach almost, sterilised. There are soft beeps echoing through the hallways, paired with hushed words and sniffles from the waiting area. 

“Here.” I hold out the water to Bucky, but I’m met with silence as I take in his sleeping form. He looks exhausted. And massive. His legs don’t really fit and his back is bent, trying to squeeze himself onto the bed. I shrug off the cardigan I’m wearing and place it over his torso, walking over to sit down by Becky’s bed. 

“Hey sweet girl,” I whisper, taking her hand into mine. “Quite a scare you’ve given us there. Remind me to bring Cheryl over to you when you’re better, lift your spirits up.” 

I sit like that for a while, holding her hand and talking to her. She can’t really hear me, but that doesn’t stop me. I don’t notice the sun come up until I feel Becky’s fingers twitch. 

“Daddy?” 

“He’s on your other side, baby.” 

“Y/n! I missed you.” She giggles, her smile taking over her face. 

“I missed you too Becky, how are you feeling?”

“‘M tired.”

“I bet. How’s your tummy?”

“No more wobbles i think.” 

I chuckle, thumb stroking over the back of her hand. “Do you want me to wake your dad?”

She shakes her head no, looking at me with big eyes. “Cuddle please.”

I pause. There’s no part of me that wants to turn down a toddler cuddle, but there’s also no part of me that wants to overstep boundaries, she’s not my kid, I have to remind myself.

“With me?” 

She nods her little head and pats the bed next to her. I make my way over, squeezing between her bed and Bucky’s, and gently climb in, trying not to move the bed. I don’t have much of a chance to situate myself before she’s pressed up against my side, her left arm over my middle. I move my hand to gently stroke her hair. 

“My daddy likes you.”

My heart catches in my chest, as I glance toward to the sleeping man. “Yeah?”

“I like you too.”

“Thanks Becky.” I whisper, looking over at the girl again. “Shall we try and get some sleep?” 

She nods, then promptly tucks herself even closer to me. She drifts off quickly, and it doesn’t take much longer until I follow suit. 

*

The opening and closing of the hospital room door wakes me up. 

“Hi, sugar.”

I look over at the voice coming from the chair, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. “Hi, Buck.”

“Cute outfit.” I glance down at the cat print shorts and “I <3 dilfs” T-shirt I was wearing. I groan at myself, rubbing my hand over my face.

“I was wearing it before I left last night, I didn’t even realise, sorry.” A faint blush heats up my cheeks. 

“No need to be. I’m thankful you came. Think I would’ve been a blubbering mess if it wasn’t for you.”

“Anytime, Bucky. I’m just glad she’s okay.” I look to the snoring girl beside me, her hair all over the pillow and all over me as a result. I can feel Bucky’s eyes burning into us, so I turn to look. 

“Come home with us today.”

“What?”

“Come home with us today. Becky would like it, I’d like it. Hell, bring the dog if she’s okay with it.” 

“Bucky I, I don’t know. I don’t think Becky would appreciate that. I mean, she’s not 100% yet I don’t wanna intrude.”

“Sleepovers!” Becky yells out from next to me, making me jump. My hand flies up to my chest. “Please, y/n, pleaseeeeeeeeee.” Her little voice drags out the word and I can’t find it in myself to say no.

“Alright,” I laugh at the identical smile on both their faces. “But I don’t think I can bring Cheryl, she doesn’t like sleeping in unfamiliar places.” 

“Aw no puppy?” 

“I’ll bring her over sometime so you guys can play in the daytime.” 

That seems to satiate her as she starts to create a whole schedule for the day, hands flying everywhere as she talks.

“Looks like someone’s feeling better,” the doctor walks into the room, clipboard in hand. She performs a few tests, then removes the needle from Becky’s arm and I can physically feel the worry swallowing Bucky as his body tenses and his hands don’t stop fidgeting.

“Alright. I’ll have the release forms ready in a couple minutes and I’ll bring them over to you guys.” Bucky sighs, his shoulders sagging, as he leans back in the chair, watching the doctor leave. It’s a few seconds before Becky starts chatting away again, clearly excited to get home. 

Bucky doesn’t stop bouncing his leg even when he’s signing her out, or while he’s driving us home. He only seems to calm down when we walk through the front door, and Becky makes a bee-line for the sofa where her frog teddy bear lay forgotten. 

He takes a minute, watching her from the hallway as she lies down. “I really don’t know what I’d do if I lost her, y/n. I swear, I’ve never been so damn scared.”

“She’s your daughter Bucky it’s natural for you to be scared. It was worrying. But she’s home now,” I nod toward where she’s sat on the floor now, preoccupied with a previous colouring project she’d left. “Safe and sound, because you did the right thing and took her to get help.” 

He turns to me, eyes still full of worry. “I also don’t know what I’d have done without you. Thank you, plum, thanks for picking up in the middle of the night.”

“For you, Bucky? Always.”

His hands cup my jaw as he steps closer, pulling me for a chaste kiss. 

“I’m dying for a coffee though. Sit with Becky?”

I walk over to where she sits on the floor, colouring in a pink unicorn. “Unicorns can’t be purple, you know.”

“Oh?” I raise my brows, “Why’s that then?” 

“Well because they’re pink. And white. But most they’re pink. Sometimes their horns have glitter.”

“Can the horn be purple glitter sometimes?”

She taps a finger against her chin, taking a minute to think. “Yeah I think that’s okay. Colour this one.” She pushes another colouring book toward me, one with trucks this time. “This one reminds me of daddy ‘cos he likes cars lots.”

“I do baby, but I like your pretty unicorns too.” Bucky hands me a steaming mug, and places a  bottle of water down by Becky. He doesn’t join us on the floor, but sits behind us on the sofa instead, watching. 

My coffee grows cold as colouring turns into Lego, which turns into a puzzle, which turns into a dinner and a movie, which promptly led to Becky asleep on the sofa, head in my lap and feet in Bucky’s. I let my hands stroke her hair gently as the television plays in the background.

“I’m so grateful your car broke down.”

“Well…”

Bucky raises a brow. 

“I’m really grateful for where it’s led but honestly it’s kind of annoying not having a car.” 

He laughs then, the rest of his worry dissipating. “It’ll be done tomorrow, sugar. Can drive to your hearts content.”

“How much?”

“Well as much as you want. Although the car itself isn’t a great one so I wouldn’t go any longer than a day or two.”

I slap at his arm playfully, knowing that he knows it’s not what I meant. “Money, Bucky. How much will it cost? I lost the form you gave me.”

“Eh, what's meant to be will be.”

“Bucky.” I sigh, knowing I’m fighting a losing battle.

“What goes around comes around.”

“None of these phrases apply to this. Will you let me pay you?”

He shakes his head no, muttering a ‘I’ll be right back’ and carrying his daughter off to her bed. Two seconds later he reappears. 

“D’ya want a shower or anything? I have a spare toothbrush and can give you some clothes?”

I look down at myself and realise I never changed from the hospital clothes. 

“Yeah actually.” I follow him to his room as he grabs me a shirt of his and some boxers, then leads me to the bathroom. 

“So, turn right for hot water, left for cold. There’s towels here, and a toothbrush in the cabinet. Shout if you need.” 

The door closes behind him with a soft click and i turn the shower on, waiting for the water to heat up. I brush my teeth while I wait, looking at myself in the mirror. The bags under my eyes were bad, and my hair was sticking out in every direction it could. I needed this shower more than I realised. 

I step in and let the hot water just run over me for a second, not moving. I let the heat relax my muscles, and drench my hair. Slowly, I wash myself, taking a second to appreciate the sandalwood smell that encompasses the bathroom now. I wash my hair next, not enjoying the 3-in-1 but still enjoying the way it smelled like Bucky. The way I smelled like Bucky. I dry off and get into his clothes, shirt falling to mid thigh, just enough for his boxers to peek through under. 

I creep quietly from the bathroom to his bedroom, not wanting to wake Becky. I push the door open, and am greeted with a shirtless Bucky, lying back on his bed. 

“C’mere.” He pats the spot next to him. 

“I hope you know your pillows gonna be wet.”

He smiles, “I don’t care, would you please just come here?”

I get in next to him, a sigh of relief escaping me. “I didn’t realise how much I wanted to just sit back, I guess.”

“Yeah, sugar, ‘m tired too. It’s been a long day.” He lies down fully now, and I follow. We face each other after he turns his bedside light off. “I meant it when I said I’m grateful, y’know.” 

“I know.”

“Dunno how or why, but seeing you has become the best part of the day, sugar. Like a little lifeline,” he pauses, then says “I don’t want this to end when you get your car back.”

“It’s not going to. I’m not with you because you’re fixing my car. Or well technically I guess I am but you know what I mean. I like you, Bucky. And I really don’t think that’s gonna stop the second you give me those keys back.”

“You like me?”

“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”

“I like you too, sugar. A whole lot more than I can describe.” His hand cups my jaw again as he presses his mouth to mine, kissing me slowly, noses softly brushing up against each other. My arms come to rest around his neck as he moves now, propping himself up with his hands next to my head. His stubble drags along my jaw, then my neck, as he kisses softly, nipping every so often. 

“You smell good.”

“I smell like you, Buck.” I giggle, a little breathless. He groans at my response, sending a short vibration through my neck and chest, making me tilt my head back a little. 

“You like this, sugar? Feel good?” 

I hum in appreciation as he sucks little marks over my neck, finding the pulse point just underneath my jaw, one hand coming to turn my face sideways a bit, giving him more space. 

“Good, ‘cuz I think I’d like to express my gratitude to you.” 

“Huh?” 

“Can I touch you, plum? Will you let me touch you?” He looks at me earnestly, searching my eyes for any sort of discomfort. 

“Yeah, please.” 

He doesn’t need to be told twice, tugging at the hem of my shirt. I sit up and lift my arms up, letting him take it off. 

“You are so pretty,” he takes his time looking at my chest, fingertips tracing ever so lightly over my boobs, leaving soft, wet kisses as he moves downward, all over my abdomen. He bites down on my hips, gently still, as his fingers snap the waistband of my boxers. 

“Can I-” 

He chuckles when I lift my hips up, not waiting for him to ask his question. He peels off the shorts, throwing them on the floor.

“Oh, fuck me, sugar,” he presses a kiss to my inner thigh, “look how beautiful you are.” Then presses one to the other. 

“Are you still okay with this? You can change your mind, y��know.”

“Bucky if you don’t touch me, I will.” 

And it’s enough to get him moving. He leans into my core, pressing a feather light kiss to my bud before licking a stripe up. My hands find their home in his hair, tugging gently as he continues to lick into me, nudging his nose against me every so often.

“Bucky I,” I gasp out, biting down on my bottom lip, trying to keep quiet. He moans into my core, tongue in me as he makes out with my pussy. I pull harder on his hair as my hips move against his face, chasing my own high. Bucky moves, lips ghosting over my clit as he pushes a finger into me, both of us moaning out. 

“Sugar, you’re tight, so fuckin’ warm.” His finger starts moving slowly, feeling every inch of me. He adds another, and I arch into him again, silently begging him for more.

“Greedy baby, want my mouth again?”

I pull his hair in confirmation, pushing him toward my core. His tongue laps at my clit now, fingers pumping into me faster and faster. One of my hands flies up to my mouth, quieting my moans as much as I can.

“That’s it sugar, nice and quiet for me, hm?” He sucks on my clit and I come with a silent cry, grinding on his face through the aftershocks. He leans back up, kissing me sweetly and I can taste myself on his mouth. Bucky turns, lying down on his back. 

“Bucky that was, I, thank you.” I say, still breathless as I turn to face him, “let me-”

“No.”

“Oh, what?” 

“I told you, plum. I wanted to show my gratitude.”

“Wait are you sure? Cuz I don-”

“There’ll be plenty chances, I promise, sugar. Now let’s go to sleep yeah?”

“Yeah,” I whisper. “Goodnight, Buck.” 

“Night.”

I fall asleep fairly quickly, the added noise of cars driving by outside lulling me to sleep. 

Bucky on the other hand stayed up, just a little longer, watching the girl in his bed sleep away, her leg in between his calves.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ .

taglist: IF YOU'D LIKE TO BE ADDED LET ME KNOW.

@yellowsbutter @stell404 @truebluehue @sophiiwasheree @witchywannabe3263 @schlattslonghairytoes @theirmindpalace

[dontpulltohardman]

For Better, For Worse, For Labor

pairing: Bucky Barnes x Pregnant!Reader

requests: OPEN

asks: OPEN

request: “Hi! I like your posts. I want to ask if you can- I mean can you make a chapter of bucky and reader as reader delivery time with comedy and funny lines. Like reader is being frustrating from bucky words 'calm down' while trying to push and reader snap at him 'I'm never you touch or fuck me again'. Not serious but funny and comedy one. Can you please”

warnings: a lot of cursing, reader in a lot of pain, Bucky is kinda slow when he’s nervous, fluff, established relationship, hospitals

word count: 1.3k+

A/n: tysm for this request i loved it, i pushed me out of my comfort zone a bit so i hope you like it also to the person who requested this dm me so i can tag you unless you sent it anonymously. love you lots and lots like jelly tots❤️

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

You groan lightly as another contraction washes over you. Instinctively, your hand gently rubs your stomach, hoping to soothe your pain. Bucky's heavy footsteps fill the room as he paces up and down, running a hand through his hair while he mutters something about midwives, parking meters, and whether or not he brought enough snacks.

You knew he was nervous; hell, you both were, but his constant pacing was starting to give you a headache, along with the fluorescent lights that illuminated your hospital room. "James, if you keep pacing, I'm going to shoot you in the knee, and you know I'm hormonal enough to get away with it in court!" You groan as you rub your temples.

He instantly stops to rush to your side, arms awkwardly hovering before settling around your shoulders. "You're doing amazing, doll, so good", he says gently, brushing your hair off your sweaty forehead. A string of curse words leaves your mouth as another contraction forces its way through your body. It's sharp. Hot. Unrelenting.

You breathe in through your nose, out through your mouth, like your midwife taught you. Useless. Still hurts like hell. "Don't 'doll' me, James, unless you've got an epidural in your hand," you moan as your nails dig into his arm. "Noted," he mutters, pressing a kiss to your temple.

Bucky's breath fans your shoulder, and the feeling immediately overwhelms you. "James, if you take another breath, I will divorce you." Bucky instantly holds his breath, not letting go until the contraction passes.

He gently squeezes your hand as you blink away tears you didn’t even realise had formed. Damn hormones. Damn him, for still managing to be sweet. You shift slightly, trying to find a less miserable position, and just as your breathing evens out, a sudden warm gush makes your eyes widen in horror.

"Buck", you whimper, your grip on his forearm tightening. His eyes immediately snap towards yours, "Yeah? What? What is it? You okay?" You look down, then back up, "I think my water just broke", you mutter as tears well in your eyes.

He blinks once, twice. Then stares at the now-damp hospital bed like it just insulted his bloodline. "Oh. Okay, um. Yep. That's totally normal, right? That's supposed to happen. Totally not bad, just messy... messy. Okay, okay, okay." He starts patting his pockets for no reason. "Do you need a towel? A nurse? or um-"

"Breathe, James. One of us has to." You pat his chest. He nods so fast he nearly gives himself whiplash. "Right. Breathing. Breathing is good." Just then, the door bursts open and your nurse walks in, awfully chirpy and blissfully unaware of the warzone she just entered.

Her eyes flicker to the soaked sheets and claps her hands, "Well, looks like we're getting close, Mom!" She smiles. "Define 'close,' " you grunt, gripping Bucky's arm like it owes you money.

"Ten centimetres and a few contractions away from showtime!" she chirps, rolling in a cart of instruments that look like torture devices, sending a chill through your spine.

Bucky's eyes follow the cart, landing on a specific hunk of metal. "What the heck if that?" The nurse just winks, "Don't worry, Mr. Barnes. That's not for you, unless you decide to pass out on us, then it might be"

You groan, leaning back on Bucky's shoulder. "Buck, if I die, name the baby after me."

"You aren't gonna die, baby," he whispers, "But if you do, I'll build statues in your honour and tattoo your name on my forehead" You sniff, half-laughing, "That last part better be a joke, Barnes."

A FEW MINUTES LATER

"Ah fuck!" you shout, your head hitting the back of your hospital bed. Your midwife and three other nurses are huddled in front of you, all muttering words of encouragement to help you push, yet it seems like your little bundle of joy is not ready to come out, much to your disappointment.

"You're doing amazing, sweetheart. I love you so much," The sweet words muttered by your husband should give you a sense of comfort, yet they only seem to fill you with rage. "You give our son your fat fucking head, make me have to push it out, then say you love me!" The words just tumble out of your mouth, causing a few nurses to snicker as Bucky stares at you, bewildered.

You bite back a sob as you're forced to push again.

Your nails dig into Bucky's arm as he kisses away any stray tears, "Fuck you, Barnes, I'm never letting you do this to me again", you sob, yet you move closer to his chest, needing his comfort. Bucky doesn't even flinch at your outburst, just nods solemnly as he wipes away your tears.

"You're right, love, totally fair. I'll take a vow of celibacy or become a monk and only look at you from across the room," he coos, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

A nurse near you feet snorts but covers it up with a cough. Another contraction slams through you like a freight train, and you scream through gritted teeth. "You better! And you're sleeping in the nursery for the next year!"

"Yes, ma'am", Bucky whispers, forehead pressing against yours as you pant like you just ran a marathon. "Nursery, the Appalachians. Wherever you want, baby"

"Okay, sweetheart," your midwife cuts in, her voice calm and soothing despite the battle happening in front of her, "Just one more big push. Let's meet this stubborn little soldier of yours"

You glare up at Bucky, "If he comes out looking like you, swear to God you will never see the light of day again" Your threat falls on deaf ears as Bucky simply smiles down at you. You groan, pushing with all your might. Cursing Bucky, cursing the baby, cursing every man who's ever looked attractive with long hair and a metal arm, and then suddenly, there's silence. Just for a breath. Then.

A cry, a loud, wet, furious cry that rocks your whole world. Making you forget about all the pain, sweat and tears. "Oh my God." You whisper, chest heaving. Tears run down your face again, but for a different reason this time.

"He's here", Bucky breathes, voice cracking as he looks down at the wriggling, red-faced baby now being cradled in your midwife's arms. Your baby.

You flop back against the pillows, chest heaving, exhausted and covered in sweat. "If his first word isn't mama, we're mailing him back"

Bucky laughs, a full-body laugh that rumbles in his chest, sending vibrations through your cheek where it rests against his chest. "We'll keep the receipt just in case".

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ