#domestic!bucky barnes x reader

[fallenbratfiction]

Devoted - bucky barnes x f!reader

Husband! Bucky Barnes can’t take his eyes or his hands off of you. He has to make the biggest effort around the kids, and honestly, it’s all you’ve ever dreamed of.

A/N: Growing up with parents who you've never seen kissing, hugging, or saying "love you" to each other, yeah, it does something to you. I recommend you listen to like real people do while reading.

warnings: domestic fluff, humor, hurt/comfort, bucky being a dream husband, vulnerable talk, parental PDA and kids being grossed out (but funny), so so so wholesome.

masterlist faq

minors dni with this story or blog. you're responsible for what you do. do not copy, translate or claim this story as your own.

Hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed (and cried) writing this!

You grew up in a house where love was... quiet. If it was there at all, it never spoke. No kisses over coffee. No lingering glances. No hands held on road trips. “I love you” was said with the same flat tone as “dinner’s ready.” It taught you that love was restraint. Conditional. Measured.

No one yelled, but no one kissed. No one fought, but no one held hands. “I love you” was something you overheard in movies — not around the dinner table.

You grew up unsure if your parents loved each other, or just… merely existed beside one another. Tolerated each other. Did they love each other? You still don’t know. Maybe they didn’t, and maybe that’s what scared you the most.

Because it made you wonder if that was all love ever was.

And then you met Bucky Barnes.

And he rewrote everything.

When Bucky Barnes came into your life, it felt like getting hit with sunlight after decades in the dark.

He's unapologetically soft for you. Hands always reaching—brushing your hair back, pulling you close, squeezing your hip as he walks by. Your kids are so over it.

“Do you have to do that now?” your oldest groans as Bucky kisses your cheek in the middle of the grocery store. “Yes,” he answers simply. “Your mom’s hot.” You roll your eyes, but your cheeks warm. Every single time.

It’s the little things Bucky does that undo you.

Like when you're driving the kids to school, and he insists on holding your hand — even when you're the one behind the wheel. His fingers slide between yours easily, resting on your thigh, warm and grounding. His thumb draws lazy circles against your skin as you maneuver turns, one hand on the wheel, one hand in his.

“You know this is wildly impractical,” you tease, eyes flicking over to him.

He grins, eyes hidden behind his sunglasses, voice low and smug. “Don’t care. I gotta hold my girl.” “Can you not be in love for five minutes?” your son groans.

You and Bucky just laugh. He lifts your hand to his lips and kisses your knuckles like some old-timey gentleman who also happens to be a menace. And still doesn’t let go.

Bucky, who hugs you from behind while you’re cooking and whispers in your ear like a menace "Skip dinner, let’s order in and make out on the couch."

Your daughter and son groan loudly from the couch, “OH MY GOD.” “I’m gonna pour bleach in my eyes!” Bucky laughs, holding you tighter with his metal arm snug around your waist, “Love you too, buddy.”

He kisses you while you're folding laundry. He dances with you in the kitchen just because the song is good. Tells you he loves you like it’s as natural as breathing — because for him, it is.

And yeah, sometimes he says dumb things like,

"Bucky, why is the car so hot?" He throws you a wink. “Cause you got in it.” A chorus of “Daaaaaad!” erupts from the backseat.

“Oh my god.” Your son gags. “I’m gonna be ill.” Bucky glances at them through the mirror, unfazed. “Good. Builds immunity.”

But under all the dramatics, they smile when they think you’re not looking. They giggle when he slow dances with you in the kitchen, or calls you doll like it’s sacred. They see it. They know it’s real. They know it’s safe.

You didn’t grow up with love like this — but you’re raising them with it. And that matters.

That night, after the kids are asleep and the house is finally quiet, you curl up beside him on the bed, wearing one of his old shirts and nothing else. The air is warm and soft-lit, and you’re sunk so deep into the quiet you almost don’t want to break it.

But you do.

“Can I tell you something kind of dumb?” you murmur.

“Doll, you could talk nonsense for hours and I’d still nod along like it’s gospel.”

You laugh, but it fades. “Sometimes I still wait for it to stop.”

He tilts his head, confused. “Stop?”

You bite your lip. “I grew up thinking love didn't exist or wasn't meant to be shown. That it had to be quiet. Conditional. Measured. So sometimes I still catch myself waiting for the moment it… ends. That you leave. That it all disappears.”

Bucky’s quiet for a moment. Then he reaches out and touches your cheek like he’s holding something fragile and precious. Because he is.

“Doll… whoever taught you that love had to be small, they were so wrong. I need to love you like this. Big. Loud. Always. I need to hold your hand while we’re driving and kiss your neck while you're stirring the pasta.” He swallows hard. “I want to love you in a way you never have to question. Ever.”

Tears prick your eyes, and he pulls you into his lap, pressing kisses to your temple, your cheek, and your mouth.

You kiss him like you’re trying to press every word you haven’t said yet into his mouth. And he lets you—hands on your waist, grounding you, holding you like he’s scared you might vanish if he lets go.

When you finally pull back, just far enough to breathe, he’s looking at you like you hung the stars in the damn sky.

“I think about it a lot,” he says softly, voice rough, “how lucky I got.”

You blink, heart thudding. “Bucky…”

“No, listen.” He brushes your hair back, thumb tracing the curve of your jaw. “After everything I’ve seen—everything I’ve done—I didn’t think I’d get this. I thought my story ended in blood and silence. And then there you were. Warm, loud, bossy as hell—loving me without flinching.”

You shake your head, tears building. “You don’t have to thank me—”

“I do.” His voice breaks. “I have to thank you every damn day. For seeing me when I couldn’t. For staying when it was hard. For giving me this life. The kids. You. All of it.”

You don’t say anything at first. You just kiss him again, slow and deep, a promise pressed into skin.

And as his hands slide up your back, pulling you impossibly closer, you think— Yeah. You got lucky too.

You pull back eventually, breathless, heart full. And then you rise to your feet.

He looks up, dazed. “Where you goin’, sweetheart?”

You smirk, already halfway to the hallway. “Gotta make sure the door’s locked,” you call over your shoulder. “We don’t want to traumatize them.”

Bucky groans, laughing, throwing himself back against the pillows. “You’re killin’ me.”

“And I’ll bring you back to life, Barnes.” You wink, hovering over him, straddling his waist as his hands slide up, thumbs rubbing slow, hiking closer to the hem of your shirt.

You smirk, leaning over him, ready to take your place on top — but before you can, his hands slide around your waist. In one smooth motion, he flips you over, pinning you gently beneath him.

“Not so fast, doll,” he murmurs, grinning as he settles between your legs. “You always think you’re in charge.”

You arch a brow, breath hitching. “And you love it.”

He laughs under his breath, eyes dark and soft all at once. He leans down, brushing your hair back to kiss your neck — slow and deep, with a bite that makes you shiver.

“Let me take care of you tonight.”

You exhale a laugh, heart skipping. “You always wanna take care of me.”

He smiles against your skin, lips trailing lower, worship in every movement.

“Damn right I do.”

Because loving you isn’t a duty. It’s instinct. It’s devotion.

I am a mix of emotions! 🥹💕😫🤧 I really enjoyed writing husband! Bucky and I will definitely do it again!

I hope you enjoyed reading this, feel free to leave your opinion!

Reblogs, likes and comments are encouraged as they help this story grow! ✨✨✨

[marvelwitchergilmore]

Ready for Sleep

Summary: Bucky Barnes x fe!Reader -> You fall asleep with Bucky after a tough mission.

Disclaimer: mentions of body injuries from a mission, established relationship, domestic fluff, short read. Not proof read.

You were ready to sleep for a year. Three severely bruised ribs and two dozen other bruises scattered across your entire body, a stiff neck that had been reminded a little by a hot shower, at least a dozen cuts and scrapes to your skin and enough images that will probably pop up one random night in a nightmare when you’re least expecting it. It was safe to say you were tired. 

Bucky had spent most of his morning reading. After two back to back missions, he’d been ready for a break so when Banner and Cho had forced Fury’s hand and allowed both himself and Sam to take a few weeks rest, he was more than happy to take it. 

He hadn’t heard you come back. Nor had he heard you limp down the hallway towards your room a few hours before his alarm went off. But he heard you when you walked into the living area just a little after two. 

“Hey- oh-” 

Holding the book still on his chest, Bucky looked over at you as you slowly made your way inside and across the room to him. Your hair was down and wet from your shower, your clothes had been changed from your standard black tactical gear to a fresh black t-shirt and a pair of shorts. 

“No, no, stay where you are.” You said to Bucky as he began to move. But you didn’t want to have to be constantly moving. You were ready to sleep. 

“What happened? I thought you weren’t getting back until tomorrow.”

Almost as easy as breathing, Bucky spread his legs a little and helped you down onto the sofa with him until you were lying comfortably beside him. 

“We wrapped up early since we kinda got caught. Nothing’s broken, I promise.” Bucky’s hand softly rubbed at your arm as you got comfortable. He pressed a short kiss to your hairline. 

“Why didn’t somebody call-”

“I asked them not to.” You looked up at him. “You would have been worrying for nothing.”

Bucky just gave you the look of someone still should have called me. 

“I promise. I’m okay. I just want to sleep.”

Bucky nodded. “Okay.” Then he kissed you. 

If his kiss couldn’t heal you, nothing could. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

You graced him with a softened smile. “I am now.”

Bucky smiled down at you before kissing you slowly again, his hand softly wrapping around your wrist that lay on his chest. It was something he’d done since the beginning – counting the beats of your heart through your pulse. A reminder to him that you were real and not a figment of his imagination. 

“Want to tell me what happened?”

You were slow to nod. You’d already said everything on the video report on your way back home so it wasn’t like you needed to. But he was a worrier. And you found it easier talking to him than you did most people. 

“It was by complete accident. One of their new recruits didn’t know their way around the base so took a few wrong turns and ended up finding us. They did what they’d been told to do and pressed their button which alerted everyone else. From there, it was what you’d expect. Lots of noise, a lotta shouting and enough dust to give the desert a run for its money.”

Bucky chuckled and you felt the rumble in his chest under your ear. Softly, his fingers traced up and down your arm and side as you continued to explain. 

“We got what we went for. Though I paid a pretty good price for it.”

“How many?”

“Three. Bruised though, not broken. We landed this morning and I’ve already left everything for Hill on her desk.”

Bucky hummed. “You know she’s gonna be mad you broke into her office again.”

“Then she shouldn’t make it so easy for me to get in.”

Bucky chuckled again. “Anything else?”

You shook your head. “Not really. Came back here, took about an hour to get undressed and get into the shower.”

“Why didn’t you come and get me?”

“Didn’t want to wake you.”

A small scoff came from the back of his throat. “I’d rather you come and wake me up than put yourself through more pain.”

You just looked up at him. “I’m okay, Buck. I promise. Besides, it probably would have taken longer for me to get in the shower with you there.”

You didn’t miss the way the blush dusted his cheeks and ears when he realised what you were talking about. Then he laughed. “Okay, maybe you’ve got a point.”

You just smiled and kissed him again. 

“Want me to get you anything?”

You shook your head. “Not yet. I just need you and some sleep.”

With a soft smile, he kissed you again. “I think I can do that.”

Reaching to the back of the sofa, he pulled the thin blanket over you and him as you laid your head back on his chest. Within minutes you were fast asleep, his heartbeat beating steady in his chest helping you do so. 

[neonovember]

bucky barnes as a husband headcanon!

heavily inspired by my steve headcanons here, I wanna try my hand at writing more of james. he is the epitome of devotion, he falls first and falls hard.

this kind of takes part in an alternative au (think avengers are still together but its post the falcon and the winter soldier)

he is canonically good at cunnilingus

you think I’m joking? This man divulges into a rabid animal the second he gets close to your thighs. He is on his knees whilst your pressed up against the counter rubbing his face against your clothed crotch moaning and grinding in the air

he says if he could have gotten a taste of you while he was the winter soldier it would've required his brain and reversed the brainwashing

’to be alone with you’ - hozier is bucky’s song

like steve, he feels the isolation and ghost-like feeling of being lost in time. Brooklyn doesn't feel like home anymore, he constantly reaches for you, even in sleep because you are the thing he now belongs to.

you can never get used to how intense bucky just..stares at you. Every single moment of the day you'll just catch him watching you silently not saying a word. It wasn't creepy, no it had this protective almost darkness to it that was all consuming. At one of Tony’s parties, he’s watching you across the room with a glass in his hand or mysterious and shit. (probably thinking about when is a polite time to leave)

which is never because bucky just drags you both out of every gathering. Every goodbye is an Irish one

man bun bucky. That’s it.

lets you cut his hair when it gets to the point of covering his eyes. Sometimes his stubble too, thumb circling and grazes your thigh as you lean over him with a scalpel.

most of the team are still gobsmacked at how bucky justs..trusts you. Whether it be with a shaving, or jumping out of a corner. If any of the team tried to pull a knife on bucky he would probably (not) accidentally break their jaw

after missions all the Avengers know he’ll be offline for at least a couple days to be with you. What they don’t discuss is half of those days are fucking you bruised. He gets all pent up and irritated when he isn’t around you, it’s like you recalibrate his mood back to baseline regular bucky when he can finally sink into you.

doll, darlin’, honey

if you think steve is possessive…just exponentiate that to the power of 10 and you have husband bucky. Are we forgetting this man used to be the winter soldier? he's cute and adorable but also can be fucking horrifying. I’m talking blank face breaking a mans jaw cause he looked at you funny

very casual in his superhuman abilities to protect you. 

silky dulcet notes of etta james, the album sam had gifted you both playing as you cut up some root vegetables. It’s summer and the night is long and warm, and you and bucky are humming as you prepare dinner. You're twirling your hips, Bucky is leaning against the countertop, half trussing the chicken and the other watching you when he suddenly stops. You don't notice it at first, until he cocks his head to the side, kind of blinks and moves to turn the saucepan on low. You turn to him, and he grabs for one of the kitchen knives on the bench before reaching for you.

"there's someone in the backyard"

all nonchalant, like it had been a burrowing animal stuck under the floorboards. he motions for you to continue, turns up the record player a bit and walks into the backyard without a sound.

this man is touch starved, of course he is cock warming after. each and every time.

one of the things bucky loved about you is at ease he felt, he could talk to you and spill everything out in a way he never could with dr raynor or even steve.

there was a bit of distance from him when he first met you, he was awestruck, even more silent than he usually was. Just stared at you longingly, standing off to the side. he didn’t think he could be anything but feared, it genuinely got to the point where you thought he didn't like you or that you had done something wrong. when steve had told him this, he nearly died. no, i'd like to think he's heart stopped for a couple seconds seriously. than got up from fainting, took you aside, and kissed you against the back of sarah's backyard door on the fourth of july.

stations a few target practice posts in your backyard. teaches you how to shoot, chest pressed up against your back as he helps move your body in the right position. always make sure you know where the weapons are in the house

singing to records whilst he's cleaning said weapons at the table

takes you to all the places still standing he remembers in Brooklyn, you hold his hand and let him rest against your shoulder when the past gets caught in his throat.

Steve finds a place in the city with actual good music, where people actually dance, and it becomes your spot every Friday.

yeah, one thing bucky remembers would be his muscle memory of the dance floor, he’s goooood. Teaches you everything he knows in your kitchen of course, always ends up with you making out on top of each other though

dry humping like teenagers, bucky with his low hanging jeans, not wearing boxes and making a mess just from the taste of your mouth

actually, sometimes breaks down in tears when he realises you’re his wife. Like forever.

always thinking about you, what you're doing, if you've eaten. even if hes in the middle of recon you will be in the back of his mind.

leans over and loops his dog tags around your neck whenever he leaves for missions. kisses your eyelids when your sleeping and the fight calls him

the second time you and bucky visited Wakanda he had Shuri craft the ring to be fused into his vibranium finger..yeah I know.

bucky isn’t the extroverted talking type, but with you he is constantly just yapping..about anything and everything. Following you around the house like a puppy, coming to you for the answers about the new world and questions he always harboured even before the ice

bucky is hilarious, he's already an adonis, but he could laugh you of your pants

can’t bear fighting with you, he never yells. He just kind of goes quiet and takes a walk

you guys live in a house with a huge backyard and a wraparound porch

loves cooking, lets him turn his mind off sometimes and make you something hearty and warm. he has a frilly gingham patterned apron he wears and his curls are wrapped into a bun with your scrunchie. floor always ends up on his cheek, and you always end up on the kitchen bench with his mouth on you

night terrors had him sleeping in a sleeping bag next to the bed, he refused despite your attempts. Sometimes he'd wait till you fell asleep against him and make the heartbreaking quiet separation and sleep on the floor

sometimes likes to take of his arm around the house, especially sleeping. Keeps it near in case though, for you.

he’s thick everywhere…took an hour of foreplay minimum to get you ready for him. You both will never get used to each other, needing to take a moment of hushed gasps and groans when he first sinks in

the wedding was in Sams backyard in Delacroix, just Sam, Sarah, the kids and Yoshi and the team

fairylights wrapped around the spanish moss of hanging trees, soft jazz and hard liquor. Sarah’s seafood boil and a dance floor where bucky spends half the night with you there

dad!bucky on the other hand..now that is a different ballpark. wait no actually, just him when you're both expecting. let's not forgot when he stormed into the tower and broke through the office doors to ask why on earth tony had scheduled him a mission so close to the birth of your baby, tossing him his phone which was now crumbled heap of metal in the shape of his fists....(you were two weeks along)

[wildflowersandvibranium]

Pie with Promise

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

Summary: In the soft glow of city lights, it's clear—your little world of blankets , pie , tacos and baby kicks is everything you've ever needed.

Word Count: 2.2k ish

Warnings/Tags: PREGNANCY if that isn’t your thing then this isn’t the fic for you 🫶🏼

Fluff Fluff and how about more fluff!!! I think just food mentions , pregnancy symptoms and kissing 💖

If i missed anything let me know Authors Note: wrote my favorite thing ever to write again domestic dad Bucky 🤗 sorry NOT sorry hehe Tysm for every like comment reblog it means the world!!! see ya in the next one bbys 🌷

MY MASTERLIST ✨ REQUESTS ALWAYS OPEN

THIS IS PART ONE! HERE IS PART TWO!!!

The Dodgers game was playing low on the TV, the announcer’s voice a smooth hum in the background. 

The golden afternoon light slanted through the window blinds , cutting stripes across the soft throw blanket on your lap. 

You weren’t sure when your eyes had started closing , but you were sure that the last thing you remembered was your husband sitting next to you on the couch , flipping through a dog-eared deck of cards as he played solitaire across the coffee table. 

Half listening to the game he had bet on with Steve and Sam.

And that pie. God, the pie.

It was still warm from the oven , that perfect crisp edge on the buttery crust , and you’d been halfway through your second slice , balancing the plate against your belly like a shelf , when sleep tugged at you too hard to resist.

Now , your hand rested empty in your lap , save for a sticky smudge of pie filling on your pinky. 

The TV was still on , but Bucky was nowhere to be seen.  And your neck had the stiff ache of a too-long nap in an awkward position.

“Mmgh,” you groaned , rubbing your eyes as you stretched.

A small weight shifted under your chin with a soft prrrr.

Alpine. 

You and Bucky's cat you adopted about a year ago. She was the softest , fluffiest, whitest ,  little purrbox.

You smiled sleepily , lifting your hand to scratch the back of her fluffed ears. 

She gave you a squinty , unimpressed glance , the same kind she always gave when you dared to move after she’d deemed you a suitable warm , napping place.

Your dark gray weighted blanket, the one you didn’t remember grabbing—was tucked over your lap and belly. 

You smoothed a hand over it , heart melting at the thought: Bucky. 

He must’ve caught you dozing and covered you up , careful as ever.

You looked around , still foggy in that post nap way.

“Buck?” you called softly.

No answer.

You shifted to sit up , one hand bracing your lower back , the other cradling your belly. 

You’d just rounded into your third trimester , literally , and it was getting harder to do… Well , anything without your husbands assistance. 

Your spine and knees cracked when you stood , and Alpine gave a little mrrp of protest as you scooped her up with both hands under her arms.

“C’mon, baby,” you murmured to her, smoothing her fur. “Let’s go find daddy.”

She blinked slowly in a silent agreement.

The apartment was quiet except for the soft clink of something in the next room. 

As you padded toward the nursery , the muffled sound grew clearer—rustling paper , tools , and your husband’s familiar low hum as he read something aloud to himself, under his breath.

You stopped in the doorway, blinking when you saw him.

There he was—your Bucky—sock-clad feet tapping against the green nursery rug , a small screwdriver held between his fingers , hair tucked and pulled back messily behind his ears. 

He was crouched beside the half-assembled changing table , squinting down at the instructions in a way that screamed “I don’t agree with these people, but I’ll follow their dumb little diagrams anyway.”

Alpine leapt gently out of your arms and padded across the floor toward him. 

He glanced up just in time to see her and smiled , reaching out to stroke her back. “Hey, princess. Keepin’ Mama safe and warm out there?”

His head lifted to meet your gaze—and when his eyes found yours , that soft , crooked smile hit you like a warm blanket fresh out of the dryer.

“Hi, sweetheart,” he said, voice low and soft. “You doin’ okay?”

You nodded , voice still raspy from sleep. “Yeah. Just woke up. Didn’t mean to knock out on the couch , but the pie took me out.”

He chuckled and sat back on his heels , wiping his hands on his sweatpants. “You passed out halfway through your last bite. I didn’t wanna wake you. You looked real peaceful… mouth open , droolin’ a little.” He teased winking.

“Rude,” you muttered, blushing.

“I loved it,” he grinned, then offered his hand to you to help you into the nursery recliner. “C’mon, sit with me.”

You took it gladly , letting him tug you close. Once you’d sunk into the chair, Alpine hopped into your lap and did a slow spin before curling into a fluffy loaf right on your bump.

“She’s obsessed with you,” Bucky murmured , crouching beside the recliner now, resting his chin on the armrest to be level with you. Your hands found his hair , lacing your fingers in it gently. 

“You and the baby. She follows you like a shadow.” he hummed.

“Jealous?” you teased, fingers dragging to his face , scratching his stubble.

He scrunched his nose. “Just a little.”

You smiled and leaned back, sighing as you stroked over your belly. “Doctor’s appointment is Thursday morning. That one’s the big one again—blood pressure, growth scan, the works.” 

He nodded, face serious. “I’ll be there.”

“I know , You always are.”

“And I’ll always be.”

You stared at him for a long second, your heart squeezing behind your ribs.

God , you loved him.

You bit your lip and looked down, stroking the top of Alpine’s head as she purred against you. “Okay ,  I sat as long as I could but I really gotta pee.”

He stood instantly , offering his hands. “Here , wait , let me help—”

“I can get up without you helping me like I’m made of glass , Bucky.”

“You’re carrying my child , doll. That makes you royalty. I serve at your pleasure.”

You laughed. “Well, tell your royal subject that their first order is to let their mama at least make it to the bathroom this time. And second order? Tacos. The baby’s demanding tacos.”

He gave a salute. “Understood. I’ll call the place on the corner.

You waddled toward the bathroom as he headed to the kitchen , muttering to himself about whether he should order one or four kinds of salsa.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

The scent of Mexican spices and lime drifted through the apartment twenty minutes later.

You and Bucky stood barefoot on the balcony under the fading evening sky , tacos piled high on plates ,  a soft breeze ruffling your hair. 

He passed you a napkin and leaned against the railing beside you , shoulder brushing yours as you both devoured your favorites.

“I love it out here,” you mumbled between bites. “It’s serene , just us the city and these amazing tacos.”

He laughed out of his nose mid bite , staring down at your bump as you wiped salsa off your chin.

 “All of it. This place. You. The baby. Got my whole world , right here.” he said quietly.

You paused , taco halfway to your mouth , blinking back sudden tears.

“I’m gonna cry,” you whispered.

He nudged you gently with his elbow. “Not before you finish that taco.”

You snorted, leaning into him, resting your head on his shoulder.

Then, a beat later, you groaned rubbing your belly..

“Ughhhhhh, I’m too full and nauseous now.”

He held out his hand. “Gimme.”

You blinked. “What?”

“Gimme the taco. You’re not wasting that.”

You passed him your plate and watched him finish off your last half in two bites.

It was a little tradition of yours.

He always finished what you couldn’t eat.

 A quiet, stupidly sweet thing you never talked about—but just did. Ever since your first date. 

Makes you cry everytime you think of it. 

You two meeting up at an Italian restaurant down the street , Bucky picked the place hoping to impress you. 

He bought a beautiful bouquet of peonies  , when you took them with a soft thank you ,  it wasn't the restaurant or even the pretty arrangement that stole your heart , but that lopsided crooked smile that met Buckys eyes when he looked at you. 

The crinkle in his nose when he laughed , his bright blue eyes and of course him being the sweetest man on the planet were all pluses. But man that smile stole your heart fully and wholly that day. 

And now look at you two.

You watched him slurp his soda as his free hand rested gently against your belly. Not rubbing, not talking. 

Just resting. Present.

You turned your face into his shoulder , eyes fluttering closed as the sky turned pink.

You  stayed tucked against his shoulder just like that for a while. 

The scent of tacos , laundry detergent , and everything that made up him filling your nose. 

His arm wrapped around your back gently , fingers drawing slow , soothing circles just under your ribs.

“I can feel you thinkin’,” he murmured.

You smiled. “I’m always thinking.”

“About?” he pressed gently.

You sighed. “Nursery. Delivery. If I’m going to poop on the table in front of you.”

He let out a short , surprised laugh.

 “Baby doll, I’ve seen worse remember that time in your second trimester when you-” 

He began but you covered his mouth quickly with your hand. 

“I thought you promised to never speak of that again?” you whined face red with embarrassment

“I'm sorry , okay , but you think I’m gonna blink twice if you poop during labor?”

“You say that now…’

“I mean it. I’ll be right there holding your hand and telling you how beautiful you are , how proud I am of you , and how amazing you are for bringing another life into this world.”

Your heart fluttered. 

You let your hand slide over his on your belly.

 “Okay. Then I’m not as scared.”

“Good,” he said softly , pressing a kiss to your temple. 

“We’re gonna be okay, all three of us.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

The sky was dark now , just a faint gold halo left around the skyline. 

The city buzzed below you, but it felt so far away from your little bubble of safety and quiet. 

It always did when you were with him.

Bucky gently pushed back your hair. “You ready to go inside?”

You nodded, belly feeling heavier by the second. “Yeah. I think I need to lie down.”

“I’ll get the blanket. You get comfy.”

You both padded barefoot back inside , the taco plates clinking softly as he set them in the sink making a mental reminder to wash them in the morning.

You waddled straight to the nursery , Alpine trailing behind you , tail up like a little white flag. 

The soft rug under your feet , the pastel paint , the faint scent of baby lotion—it was all so surreal and real at once.

The changing table was half-finished still, the tools neatly lined up by the instructions. 

You smiled as you lowered yourself into the plush recliner with a soft grunt. You loved spending time in this room. Just waiting and prepping for you babe.

“I told you not to keep building that tonight,” you called softly.

Bucky returned a second later, blanket in one hand, water bottle in the other. “I know, but the screws were mocking me.”

“I bet they were , honey.” you smiled teasing.

He knelt beside you and reached to cover you with the soft blanket, tucking it around your legs. 

Then, like clockwork, his hand found its home on your bump again.

And the baby kicked and rolled .

Hard.

Both of you froze.

His mouth dropped open as he stared at your belly, then up at you. “Was that—?”

“That was definitely a kick,” you breathed, laughing as your hand joined his.

A second one followed—stronger, aimed right where his palm lay.

Bucky let out the softest noise, somewhere between a laugh and a gasp. 

His eyes were wide, blue like the sky before a storm. 

“That little punk kicked their dad already ,” he whispered. 

“That’s our baby.”

He leaned forward, brushing his lips to your belly right by his hand, whispering.

“Hey, you in there. Be nice to your mama.”

You blinked fast, your vision going blurry.

“I didn’t think I could love you more,” you said quietly.

He looked up, startled. “But?” 

Waiting for you to tell him something bad he had done or said.

“No,  but. Just… somehow I do. Every day.”

His lips parted, and he just stared at you for a second, like maybe you’d knocked the wind out of him.

Then he kissed you.

It wasn’t urgent or fast. 

It was soft and slow, like he had all the time in the world. 

Like nothing else mattered except the way your lips molded and perfectly fit against his. 

The way his thumb brushed your cheek as he deepened it, the way your hand curled into the front of his hoodie to keep him close.

When you pulled back, both a little breathless, he pressed his forehead to yours.

���Sweetheart,” he murmured, “I don't care about every good thing I do now , there’s still no way I’ll ever deserve this life with you.”

“You do deserve it, Buck.”

“I’m the lucky one.”

“No,” you said, touching his face, “we are.”

Then he chuckled. “You still full?”

You groaned. “Like a overfilled water balloon. Slowly regretting every bite.”

“C’mon , I’ll go rub your back.”

“Deal—but you gotta finish off my horchata, too.”

He smiled, already on his feet. “Already done.”

You exhaled , watching him walk out , one hand running through his sleep-tousled hair, the other already reaching for the bottle of soothing vanilla lotion.

This man. This life.

You looked down at your belly as it rolled gently beneath your hand. “You’ve got a pretty amazing dad, you know that?”

Alpine let out a soft mrrrp, hopping back onto the chair and curling into your hip. “See even your sister agrees” You said eyes closing , picturing a better life than this. 

Which was hard because there was no way you could.

This was perfect.

-end part two hereeeeee!!!

my other dad bucky fics: Waltzing Rescue & Plums and Pancakes

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

[barnesonly]

.𖥔 ݁ ˖༘⋆ Bambi ⊹₊ ⋆｡˚

dad!bucky barnes x reader

tags: fluff and humour, established relationship (marriage), parenthood, girl dad bucky, the new avengers (post thunderbolts*), auntie yelena, alexei shenanigans… and bob is an ipad kid.

summary: yours and bucky’s toddler daughter visits avengers tower for the first time and immediately becomes everyone’s favorite. alexei is obsessed. yelena is chaotic aunt. bob is shy. bucky comes back from a mission and goes full soft dad mode. chaos and fluff ensue!!

word count: 2275

A/N: kinda inspired by this fic written by @buckysleftbicep (absolutely loved it) so everyone go check it out right now!! Posting fluff in celebration of reaching 1k followers!

The moment you step into Avengers Tower, your daughter’s tiny hand wrapped in yours and her beloved deer plush tucked under her arm, you brace yourself.

Not for an attack. Not for a mission.

But for them.

Yelena’s the first to spot you from across the lounge, sitting cross-legged on the couch with her boots on the coffee table, casually eating pickles out of the jar like it’s an Olympic sport. Her eyes light up instantly.

“You brought the gremlin,” she says, hopping over the back of the couch like it owes her money. “Finally.”

Your daughter perks up at the voice and lets go of your hand, wobble-running straight into Yelena’s legs. “Lena!”

Yelena scoops her up with practiced ease, already spinning her like a pizza. “You’re taller than last time. What are they feeding you, huh? Dinosaur nuggets? Uncrustables?”

You smile, brushing hair from your face. “Babysitter called in sick. Bucky’s off running recon with Ava and John. It was either bring her with me or let Alpine babysit.”

Yelena shrugs. “Cat would’ve done a decent job.”

But before you can respond, a voice bellows from across the room like thunder cracking through a storm.

“OH MY GOD.”

You freeze.

“THERE IS A CHILD.”

Alexei appears like a bear-sized ghost from around the corner, eyes wide, beard fluffed, hands halfway to the sky in pure dramatics.

“She is real! You made her!” he gasps, pointing between you and your daughter like he’s just discovered human biology. “You and Barnes! You spawned!”

Your daughter clutches tighter to Yelena’s neck, blinking slowly. “…Who’s that?”

“That’s Uncle Alexei, baby,” Yelena mutters, clearly second-guessing every life choice.

“Uncle?” Alexei gasps, one hand pressed to his heart. “She called me uncle? Did you hear that? She has taste.”

“She didn’t call you anything, actually,” you say dryly.

He ignores you, kneeling down like he’s approaching a skittish woodland creature. “Little one. What is your name?”

Your daughter snuggles further into Yelena’s shoulder, unsure.

Yelena whispers it to him.

Alexei lights up. “Beautiful. Like tiny ballerina-slash-assassin.”

Then he spots the plushie.

His jaw drops. “Is that… a deer?!”

She nods.

He gasps. “A baby deer,” he glances directly at you. “You brought Bambi to the Tower. Look at this! I will call her Bambi forever now. This is perfect.”

You groan. “Her name is not Bambi.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Alexei says with utter seriousness. “Her superhero name is Bambi now.” He looks at the plush deer again, as if he needs confirmation. “This is Bambi. Your child… she is Bambi.”

“Why are you like this?”

The elevator dings softly behind you. Bob steps out, hugging a datapad to his chest, eyes flicking up—and stopping cold at the sight of a tiny human standing in the middle of the room surrounded by chaos.

He freezes like he just walked into the wrong universe.

“Oh,” he says, voice soft. “Oh. Um. Hi.”

Alexei scoops your daughter’s plush out of her hands (gently, somehow) and holds it up like a prize. “The deer has arrived.”

Your daughter lets out a tiny, distressed “Nooo!” and Yelena sighs, prying it back and handing it to her. She immediately clutches it to her chest, pouting.

Alexei melts. “She loves it. Look at the loyalty. I respect it. She will be a warrior.”

“She’s three,” you say.

“And already wiser than John,” Bob mutters, sliding onto the couch and giving your daughter a gentle wave. “Hi… I’m Bob.”

Bob offers a cautious smile from his corner of the couch, clearly doing mental math on how to interact with a three-year-old while holding a fragile datapad full of intel. “Is that your deer?” he asks gently.

Your daughter nods, eyes wide but curious.

“What’s your name?”

She hesitates, glances at you, then whispers, “Bambi.”

You sigh. Yelena smirks. Alexei fist-pumps like his soul just ascended.

“Haha! See?! Bambi!”

“She only said that because you pressured her!” you argue.

Alexei ignores you completely, now crouching beside Bob like they’re co-conspirators. “This changes everything. We must get her a cape.”

Bob blinks. “Wait, for the deer or…?”

“Yes.”

Before you can intervene, your daughter climbs out of Yelena’s lap and toddles unsteadily across the rug, her tiny socks making her slide a little on the hardwood. She waddles straight up to Bob and shyly offers him the plush deer for inspection.

Bob stares, caught completely off-guard. Slowly, reverently, he reaches out and pokes it once, like he’s been offered something sacred.

“She trusts you,” Yelena says with a smirk. “You’ve been chosen.”

Alexei claps him on the back. “Welcome to the Uncle Club.”

Bob pales. “I—I didn’t sign up for that—”

“Too late,” Yelena and Alexei say in unison.

You step in before your daughter hands over her entire soul to the team. “Alright, Bambi’s gotta go with me to the debriefing room for a bit. She’s quiet during meetings, I swear.”

“Wait, she’s sitting in?” Bob asks, blinking.

“She can’t stay here,” you whisper. “He’s already planning her costume reveal.” You point at Alexei as you roll your eyes.

Alexei winks. “Tiny leather jacket. I know a guy.”

You hoist your daughter up, her head instantly finding your shoulder, deer tucked between you. She’s calm now, observing the chaos like she’s already used to it—which, to be fair, she probably is.

Yelena holds the elevator door open for you. “Want me to come with?”

You smile gratefully. “Please.”

Bob waves. “Bye, Bambi.”

Alexei bows. “We will train in the art of war when you return.”

Your daughter yawns.

“Yeah,” Yelena mutters, smirking. “She’s terrified.”

As the elevator doors slide shut, you glance down at the sleepy toddler in your arms and murmur, “She kind of is ruling the tower right now.”

Yelena chuckles beside you, hands in her pockets. “Please. Alexei is probably already imagining her leading The New New Avengers.”

———

The common room is unusually quiet.

Which, considering who lives here, means there are only three simultaneous conversations instead of seven, and no one’s actively throwing knives at the wall.

You’re curled up on the far couch with a warm mug of coffee tucked in your hands, your legs folded under you, eyes tracking the scene in front of you with the kind of resigned affection that only comes from parenting amidst chaos.

Your daughter is sitting cross-legged on the rug, her beloved deer plush nestled in her lap, while Bob sits beside her like he’s attending a high-stakes diplomatic summit. His tablet is open, and he’s very seriously showing her a game where she gets to decorate cupcakes.

“Okay,” Bob says, voice calm and precise, “this one has rainbow sprinkles. That means it’s the most powerful one.”

Your daughter giggles, pointing at the screen. “That one’s Bucky’s!”

Bob raises an eyebrow, impressed. “Excellent choice. Very dangerous cupcake.”

Across the room, Alexei is sitting backward in an armchair—knees up, arms draped over the backrest like a golden retriever in a human body—just watching the entire interaction with rapt fascination.

“Look at her. Tactical decisions. Cupcake strategy. She is genius,” he murmurs, eyes wide. “You see this? She will rule us all.”

“Alexei, she decorates cupcakes,” you say tiredly.

“Exactly!” he says, like you’ve proved his point. “That is unpredictable. That is art.”

Bob glances up, sheepish but undeniably soft. “She’s really good at this. Like… scary good. She beat my high score.”

“She’s three,” you repeat for what feels like the hundredth time today.

“Exactly,” Bob echoes, completely serious.

Your daughter turns and beams at you, holding the tablet up in victory. “I made a cat cupcake!”

“You’re a creative genius, sweetheart,” you say with a smile, setting your mug down. “Now let Bob breathe before he has a full-blown cupcake identity crisis.”

“She beat me twice,” Bob mutters, looking at the screen with quiet betrayal.

Alexei grins. “You have been defeated. Welcome to the Bambi Era.”

That makes your daughter puff up with pride, hugging her deer closer. “I’m Bambi.”

You blink at her.

“Okay, okay. You’re Bambi.” you murmur, already accepting defeat.

Alexei makes a dramatic gasp and holds his hand to his heart. “The prophecy is fulfilled.”

And that’s when the elevator dings. The doors slide open with a mechanical hum, and your husband, Bucky steps out—followed closely by Ava, already pulling off her gloves, and John, still mid-complaint about something Ava definitely tuned out five floors ago.

All three look a little winded, mission dust still clinging to them, that sharp post-field energy still buzzing in their shoulders.

Bucky’s the first to clock you.

Then—his eyes land on the small deer-plush-carrying toddler sitting in the middle of the Avengers’ common room rug like she owns the place.

He stops cold.

“What is she doing here?” he asks, blinking like he’s not sure if he’s hallucinating from exhaustion.

Your daughter hears his voice—and immediately bolts to her feet, deer plush bouncing from her arms as she runs.

“Daddy!”

And just like that—everything about Bucky shifts.

The steel in his posture melts in real time. That hard edge in his jaw softens. His arms open like it’s instinct, like they were made just for this exact moment.

He drops his bag without looking. Drops everything.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he breathes, catching her in a sweeping hug and lifting her off the ground like she weighs nothing. “Hi, my girl. Did you miss me?”

She nods furiously, burying her face in his neck. “You were so gone.”

Bucky presses a kiss to her hair, eyes fluttering shut for a second, like the entire day fades away the second she touches him. “I’m here now, baby. I’m here.”

There’s a stunned silence behind him.

John looks like someone just hit him with a frying pan. Ava raises an eyebrow and mutters something under her breath that sounds suspiciously like “holy shit.”

Yelena grins, arms crossed. “Aww. The Winter Soldier has emotions. Someone write that down.”

Alexei is squinting, hand raised like he’s observing wildlife through binoculars.

“She called him Daddy and he went from Terminator to teddy bear in 0.2 seconds,” Bob whispers, genuinely fascinated.

You’re already walking over, arms crossed and smile threatening the edges of your mouth. “Glad to see she’s got you wrapped around her finger, too.”

“She owns me,” Bucky says simply, pressing one more kiss to her cheek. “You should know that by now.”

You snort. “Yeah, well, the rest of the team just found out.”

Bucky turns slightly, finally looking over at the stunned group of adult superheroes who just watched him transform into Dad of the Year.

“She get into any trouble while I was gone?”

“She beat me at tablet games and claimed her superhero name is Bambi,” Bob says numbly.

“She made Alexei cry,” Yelena adds.

“I did not cry,” Alexei huffs, wiping suspicious moisture from his eye. “I was emotionally impacted.”

Your daughter leans back in Bucky’s arms and holds up her deer plush proudly.

“Did you bring me a snack?”

“Your priorities are incredible,” Bucky mutters fondly, already walking toward the kitchen with her still on his hip. “Let’s go find you something good, huh, Bambi?”

She gasps. “You called me Bambi!”

You sigh.

———

Later that evening, the common room has finally quieted. Most of the team has dispersed, save for the ones still floating nearby with post-mission snacks or paperwork. The lights are dimmed, your coffee’s been reheated twice, and you’re curled up in one of the oversized armchairs, finally off your feet.

Across the room, Bucky is sitting on the couch with your daughter perched on his lap, her deer plush tucked snugly under one arm, the other animatedly waving in the air as she recounts—in painstaking detail—every single moment of her day.

“And then Lena spun me so fast, and Uncle Lexi said I was a ballerina, and Bob showed me a cupcake game but I BEAT HIM, and there were pickles but I didn’t want any ’cause they smell bad—Daddy, are you listening?”

Bucky, absolutely smitten, nods with exaggerated seriousness. “Of course I’m listening, Bambi. Pickles smell bad. Got it.”

She nods proudly. “And the couch is really squishy but not as squishy as ours. But this place has better snacks. And Lena let me jump on the beanbag on purpose. Can I come here always? Please?”

Bucky leans in, brushing a kiss to her temple. “I’ll talk to Mama about it. Maybe not always. But often? I think we can arrange that.”

She beams. “Okay. Also I drew a picture of Bob. He looks like a jellybean.”

You stifle a laugh into your mug.

Yelena slides into the chair beside yours with a quiet flop, arms crossed and an amused glint in her eye as she watches your daughter still rattling off to Bucky like it’s a press conference.

“She is so her father’s daughter,” Yelena says.

You sigh, but you’re smiling. “Yup.”

“Talks like him. Bossy like him. Stubborn as hell.”

You raise your mug. “And weirdly good at knives for a toddler. We’re doomed.”

Yelena snorts. “And you love it.”

You look over at Bucky again—his eyes soft, his fingers gently braiding a bit of your daughter’s hair as she chatters on about Alexei’s beard and how “Lena said I could have a jet one day.”

Your chest swells with something warm and weightless. “Yeah,” you say quietly. “I really, really do.”

tags: @iamthatonefangirl (dm or comment If you wanna be added to my tag list)

[buckyalpine]

Bucky's baby girl who loves his metal arm.

She runs hot just like her daddy, the serum also coursing through her keeping her extra warm. She's all fussy until Bucky cradles her in his left arm and the content sigh she lets out feeling his cool metal against her warm, chubby cheek is unmatched.

It's also perfect when she starts teething. No other toys do it like daddy's thumb. She's happily tucked in the crook of his arm, two tiny hands holding onto his much larger one so she can get a proper grip and chew on his fingers. The coldness soothes her gums.

Bucky's babygirl who only falls asleep when he holds her. It's not that she doesn't fall asleep with her mommy, but she's clearly picked up this habit directly from you. Her daddy's chest is her favourite place to be and you can't complain because you feel the exact same way. There's nothing cuter than her little gummy smile while sleeping contently on daddy's chest, his metal fingers rubbing her back in soothing circles. She practically gets lost in him when he holds her, such a tiny bundle wrapped up around metal and muscle. Of course he gives you the exact same treatment after she's around asleep in her crib and you're also softly snoring moments later.

(Just a rogue thought but imagine Bucky doesn't get the playful pout you make whenever his daughter whines to cuddle up with him, taking away from his snuggle time from you. He so very clearly has time for you both. Then you have a son. The places have been switched as he watches his babyboy coo and giggle in your arms between nursing and Bucky isn't jealous of his own son but he 100% ready for his turn to be in your lap with your boobs in his face. When his son only sleeps on mommy's warm chest with all the skin to skin contact, he's side eyeing you with his shirt off, ready for cuddles immediately after. He's a menace and it's the cutest thing)

[fallen-w1ngs]

'' SLEEPY ,,

|| pairing : james "bucky" barnes x reader

|| warning : nothing !! js domestic fluff :3

|| wc : 0.2k ish? really short

The light through the curtains cut through easily as you laid there, sprawled across the king sized mattress, hair in a mess as you slowly drift from the unconcious world.

"Babe?" You mutter, your hand searching the covers to try and find your boyfriend. Who was in fact still there. "Babe- babe what time is it?"

"You can go check," the grumpy soldier grunted as he moved around before cuddling into your side. His face pressing up against your side.

"Bucky-" you were cut off with a yawn as you pushed yourself up. "We have work today"

Instead of complaining but actively letting himself get up with you, he stayed in bed. His one arm wrapped around your waist as you try to convince him to get up.

"Babe, please-"

This time you weren't cut off by a yawn, but by a pair of lips on yours. His hand cupped your cheek as you let your guard down and melt into him. Despite his usual cold body temperature, you sure as hell melt into him like he's the fucking sun.

"Buck-"

"C'mon, just stay in bed a little longer?" Bucky whispered quietly. It wasn't fair. Not at all fair of how absolutely divine he looked when he first woke up. His hair in a messy ponytail that got loose as the two of you slept, the sun framing his face so perfectly, and his eyes with the way he looks at you like you're the only one who matters. GOD it made you sickly in love with him.

".. 5 more minutes, Bucky." You grumbled as Bucky wrapped his arm around you and pulled you into his chest.

"Love you, doll." He said with a chuckle.

".. Love you too, you big baby."

|| happy pride chat :D!! also... should i js have a taglist for the regular oneshots i post, like a taglist for bucky, a taglist for hawks etc etc?

[holylulusworld]

Alpine, the heartbreaker

Summary: Your cat fell for a charming heartbreaker.

Pairing: Domestic!Bucky Barnes x Neighbor!Reader; Alpine Barnes x Tinker Bell Y/L/N

Written for @avengers-assemble-bingo “Spring Bingo” – Square filled: Gardening

Warnings: naughty cats doing naughty things, cat pregnancy, fluff, general cuteness, cats in love, flirty Bucky

A/N: For my story, Alpine is a tomcat.

“The weather is hot today, isn’t it, Tinker Bell?” You wipe your sweaty forehead, sighing as your cat disappears from sight once more. You huff because the last thing you want is for your beloved cat to get lost. “Tink? I told you not to stray too far from the garden.”

You sigh and go back to tending your roses. Tinker Bell usually never strays and stays by your side, but for the last few weeks, she has tended to disappear for an hour or two.

Gardening is your second favorite hobby since you moved into your house four months ago; crocheting is another. Your life has become more grounded and peaceful since you quit your job and decided to settle down and live a domestic life.

A noise catches your attention. It sounds like a wounded cat, and your heart thunders in your chest. You grab the pruning shears and sprint toward the noise. If anyone tries to hurt your cat, you’ll not let them live.

Chasing after the noise, you call your cat’s name. You must look like a lunatic running along the sidewalk, screaming, Tinker Bell.

“Tink! I’m coming!” You pant, not used to running so much anymore. “Leave my cat alone!”

Tink gets louder, and you run a little faster to reach your cat. Whoever hurts your beloved cat will suffer a slow death.

“Tink!” Stopping in your tracks, you watch a white cat do unspeakable things to your beloved Tinker Bell. Tink mewls like a cat in heat, enjoying the white cat’s attention a little too much for your liking. “You pervert!”

“Alpine!” A man runs toward you and your cat… “Punk, what are you doing!” He snorts as his cat is having a blast. “Uh—I didn’t think you had it in you. I thought the vet said you’re sterile.”

“Yeah, well.” You huff and glare at the man. “He’s capable of doing …” You're making air quotes, “it.”

“It looks like she’s enjoying it,” he grins, blue eyes sparkling as you glare at him. He looks familiar to you, but you can’t remember where you have seen the man before. “I think we should give them some privacy.”

“What? No, he can’t just…and then,” you try to argue, but the man guides you away from your cat and her lover. You can’t believe your cat has a more active sex life than you. “If she gets pregnant, you’ll pay child support. You and your naughty cat!”

You exclaim before storming off, cursing the man and his white devil.

“Lady, it’s not Alpine’s fault your cat is a naughty one,” he snickers as you turn around to glare in his direction. “Just saying, it takes two to have fun. Your cat is a naughty girl.”

“Irresponsible,” you scold the man and walk away. “How dare he call my cat a naughty girl!”

“Tink, we need to talk,” you say as your cat stretches on your bed. She’s meowing loudly when you run your hand over her belly. “You got knocked up by a punk. A naughty white heartbreaker. This can never happen again.”

She ignores your speech and rolls to the other side, purring.

“Young lady, I’m talking to you!” Pacing in your living room, you sigh. Having kittens wasn’t in your plans. “It’s not only your fault, though. I shouldn’t have trusted the shelter telling me you’re sterile. Now we will have babies to take care of.”

Watching your cat get comfortable, you plan on giving the owner of the devil seducing your innocent Tink a piece of your mind. You already have found out where he’s living. He bought the house just down the street.

“Ah, the naughty cat owner,” the man says, leaning on his door frame as you stand in front of his door, an ultrasound of your cat in your hands. “Does she want more of Alpine?”

“Your cat is going to be a father soon,” you grunt and push the ultrasound into his hands. “You should tell him not to stray. We don’t like a womanizer!”

“Whoa, punk!” He laughs when his cat runs out of the door to sit in front of you. Alpine meows and looks up at you. “He’s missing his lady cat.”

“He did enough!” You mutter under your breath.

“Hey, they are cats.” He shrugs. "Alpine won’t be a deadbeat father. We’ll take care of the young lady he made love to.”

You don’t know if you want to laugh or slap the cocky smirk off his face. “You should tell your cat to…” You frown. The situation is more than strange, and you don’t know what to tell him.

“I’ll tell Alpine not to stray,” he leans closer and says, “but I think this is not necessary. He lost his heart to your beauty.”

You snort. “Just…don’t let him knock more cats up.”

“He wouldn’t dream of straying,” he smirks. “Now that our kids are going to have kids, we should introduce each other, don’t you think?”

“Uh—Y/N,” you splutter.

“Bucky,” he replies, holding out his hand. You shake it, suddenly aware of where you have seen him and his metal arm before.

Great—the Winter Soldier’s cat knocked Tink up. What the hell…

One day later, you answer the door, only to find Bucky and his cat in front of your door. Alpine is wearing a tiny bow bowtie, and Bucky holds a basket filled with cat products in his arms.

“What is all this?” You ask, glancing at the basket.

“Uh—child support,” Bucky replies. “I told you Alpine will be a good father and partner. Can he now see your cat? He’s crawling up the walls.”

“I—” You look at the basket again, laughing. “Okay, come on in. She’s in the living room, sleeping. Her belly is growing fast.”

“How are the kittens?” Bucky asks when you allow him inside. “Can…can Alpine come with you next time to see the babies?”

You’d laugh at his words, but he looks so serious and determined that you don’t have it in you to make fun of Bucky.

“Sure, if my vet is okay with it, Alpine can come around.”

You walk into the living room, watching Alpine run toward the couch. He jumps onto the couch, immediately starting to groom Tinker Bell.

“I think they are in love,” Bucky whispers in your ear.

“Young love, huh?” You laugh because your cat is rolling over to cuddle with Alpine. They meow and purr, having a not-so-silent conversation.

“Should we…uh…leave them alone?” Bucky looks unsure when you take the basket out of his hands. “We shouldn’t watch them, right?”

“We can have coffee in my kitchen and leave them to…uh…their reunion.” You grab Bucky’s hand to guide him toward your kitchen. “Just so you know, the kittens are alright.”

“What are we going to do with them?” He asks, worriedly looking at you. “We cannot abandon them. They’re Alpine’s kids.”

“I think we should talk about shared custody.”

“Maybe, we can…uh…find a better solution,” he says, looking you deep in the eyes. “You know, my cat loves your cat and all.”

You laugh at his poor attempt to flirt with you. “How about you invite me for dinner before we plan on having a family of cats?”

“It’s a date!” He hurriedly says, hoping he’ll get lucky in love too…

[eurydiceauxenferswrites]

How They Fall Asleep With You- Avengers Domestic/Retirement AUs 

Just sleep, you perverts, lol. I’ll happily update with any character y’all want upon request (while I use MCU gifs, I’m happy to also include non MCU Marvel characters). This is pure wish fulfillment for me; not sharing a bed with my favorite characters, having a normal and functional sleep schedule.

Steve Rogers: Regardless of when you typically sleep, Steve will be ready and in bed by 9 o’clock sharp. If you’re a later sleeper he’ll stay up reading the news until you’re ready to head to bed, no matter how late. He prefers to stay on his back, with his hands folded on his stomach.

It takes you a bit to realize this, but his adaptability isn’t just because he loves you; Steve doesn’t actually sleep more than a few hours a night. He stays awake, staring at the ceiling for hours, just thinking. He tells you not to worry about it, because his enhanced body doesn’t actually doesn’t need all that much sleep, but you know it’s a half truth. So you do what you can to help rest a little easier, cuddling, back rubs, warm milk, whatever helps. He really does appreciate the effort you put in to make him feel loved and, frankly, to feel human again.

Also sorry for those hoping to see our dear Captain in his boxers but he wears long underwear to bed, force of habit, you don’t want to catch your death of cold whilst sleeping after all!

Bucky Barnes: You know that feeling you get when you oversleep and then you absolutely cannot fall asleep again the next night, like your sleep bar is overfull? Yeah that’s Bucky all the time. So he just doesn’t sleep with you, he helps you get ready for bed, kisses you good night, and then leaves the bedroom to do… whatever it is he does at night (he never leaves the house, though, he’s quite a homebody). If you’re a light sleeper you’re often woken up by sounds of video games, or talking, or the smell of cooking. One time you even woke up to a fire alarm because he was making grilled cheese at 3 in the morning.

When Bucky does finally sleep, he’ll crash out wherever he’s sitting, so you’ve found him snoozing on the couch, on the stairs, face first in a bowl of cereal, you name it. You usually give him a kiss, gently slip a pillow under his head, and let him get the his well deserved rest. He doesn’t have any pajamas, just some comfy boxers and ratty old t-shirts.

Natasha Romanov: You thought it was kismet how well your sleep schedules matched. You went to bed at the same time every night and woke up at the same time every morning. Just another reason why you two were such a great couple.

Until the first time you woke up in the middle of the night and realized Natasha was gone, entirely gone, not only from the bed but from the house. That’s when you found out that, actually, Natasha doesn’t have a normal sleep cycle. No don’t get me wrong, unlike our super soldier boys she does get her 8 hours, but she has a polyphasic sleep cycle, its part of her red room training. She only sleeps for 15 minutes at a time at most split intermittently throughout the day. So no, she wasn’t lying when she said she goes to sleep and wakes up with you, she just left out the parts in between. When she’s not in bed with you, she goes jogging, runs errands or hangs out with her other nocturnal friend Bucky Barnes.

Nat is the second most likely Avenger to wear lingerie to bed, silky lacy clingy slips are her go to. She knows how much you love to see her in it, she gets a kick out of watching you flush as she slips under the covers with you. But it absolutely melts her heart that you find her just as beautiful with messy hair and an oversized tee, that you love every aspect of her, not just the polished mask she’s so used to wearing.

Tony Stark: He is very particular about his bedroom specifications (projecting my Sensory Processing Disorder let’s goooooo). The temperature has to be precisely room temp, the AC humming just so, the sheets a the sheets a 45% cotton 55% rayon blend, and the night light at 3260K (within a 10K range), or else he cannot sleep a wink. And even then his sleep schedule is a complete disaster because he when he’s diving into a project he lacks the self control to go to stop his work and go to bed (mood).  He never wakes up at the same time either, sometimes he’s bright eyed and bushy tailed at 5:30 AM, sometimes he’s snoozing until noon.

He talks in his sleep, lol can’t shut up even when unconscious, his muttering range from sweet (“…hey…love you so much, you know? love you…”) to sad (“…no no please just a little more time… I can’t save them…”) to just random (“the pickle is covered in sparkles! inedible, you go to space jail”). 

He’s not entirely selfish though, he shares his toys. Has kitted out your bedroom to be state of the art, you both have an adjustable mattress, an automated light system, even a dumbwaiter for breakfast in bed. Anything you need, gorgeous, just say the word. 

Absolutely wears lingerie to bed, the hottest and most impractical he can find. If the paparazzi plan on invading his privacy again, he’s promised to give them a show they’ll never forget. 

Clint Barton: Clint’s sleep has also been majorly affected by his career, but unlike his partner Nat he still sleeps a normal 8 hours at a time. Clint has cultivated the ability to fall asleep anywhere he needs to. He often dozes on the couch next to you while watching tv. As long as he can feel you next to him, as long as he knows you’re safe, he feels safe too. 

When Clint takes off his hearing aid, he’s a very heavy sleeper, almost impossible to wake up. He’s also a very still sleeper, hardly ever moves around, he does snore however. If that bothers you, feel free to flip him to his side, I promise it won’t disturb his beauty sleep at all. He does have pyjama set, unlike some of his teammates he’s a civilized man.

Thor Odinson: Has the classic rich kid sleep schedule; stays up late, sleeps in until brunch. If you’re the sort who prefers an early bedtime, he’ll do his best to not disturb you when he crawls into bed; although, if you’re a light sleeper, you’ll probably notice his clumsy attempts at stealth. 

Sleeping in the same bed as Thor is definitely a mix of pros and cons. The cons: he snores like thunder and he’s a major space hog. The pros: he sleeps entirely nude. He’s also a cuddler and surprisingly soft for such a muscular man. He likes to slip his arm under your head to support it and pull you close while you sleep (although if you’re the sort that prefers their space while sleeping, YMMV on whether this is a perk or not). Also, if you have insomnia of any kind, he’ll stay up as late as you need helping you fall asleep, whispering Asgardian folktales, or even making it rain just so for the perfect white noise. 

Bruce Banner: Bruce has transformed during nightmares before, so he’s honestly somewhat scared of sleeping in the same bed as you, the last thing he wants is to hurt you. If you insist, he’ll try though (“alright, it’s your funeral”). So far, things have been going well; the worst that’s happened is you’ve been accidentally pushed out of bed once or twice, or woken up by oversized grumbling, but it doesn’t stop him from worrying that one day Hulk will hit you in his sleep (accidentally, of course, Hulk is as soft for you as Banner is). Always puts up a pillow wall when he sleeps. Sometimes suffers from insomnia, takes a lot of melatonin gummies. If you have insomnia, he’ll give you the driest densest scientific literature he can find (well, dry to you, to him its fascinating, but he accepts your lack of interest in advances in the modeling of molecular orbital theory for actinides using machine learning programs or whatever dishwater dull nuclear physics he’s reading about this week). Sleeps with nothing on but a pair of super stretchy pants in case of Hulk emergency. Almost always sleeps in the fetal position.

Sam Wilson: Once again winning the Most Adult award, Sam works hard to make sure he has a consistent sleep schedule because he understands how important it is. He’s usually in bed by 8:30-9 and spends an hour or so reading with a nightlight and maybe a cup of tea until he feels sleepy. He’s not especially picky about his sleeping spaces, with one exception; he expects you to respect the sanctity of quiet time. That means no talking, no running around, no tv, maybe some music if he’s feeing crazy. Cuddling is always welcome, of course, as long as he can still read with you curled up in his arms. If you don’t behave he’s happy to banish you to the foldout couch. It’s nothing personal but it’s important to him that he has a chance to decompress at the end of the day and he knows how to set good boundaries. 

Sam wakes up pretty early, around 6, so he can get a morning jog in and get ready for his day. He’ll always cook for you in the morning  and he’ll even make you breakfast in bed if he has the time. Sam wears pajama pants but typically goes shirtless at night. Likes to sleep on his side, facing you, so you’ll be the first thing he sees when he wakes up in the morning.

Loki: Not the easiest person to sleep with. He’s very picky, not in specific details like Tony, more that he expects a certain standard of luxury, a bedroom fancy enough for a prince. He’s also a very selfish bedmate, since he’s not used to sharing his space. He’s a pillow hog and blanket thief and also like, ice cold so if you run hot then that’s great for you but if not, good luck lol). Still, he does like sleeping with you, he’s a clingy sort, so maybe take the L and indulge him once in a while. Goes to bed as late as he pleases and considers waking up before 10 to be “early” in classic royal fashion. 

Has a giant sized plushie he squeezes while sleeping (Ah yes. You, your boyfriend, and his 4 foot tall Jeff the Landshark). Wears the most dramatic slinky old timey night robe ever, it has the tendency to start slipping off ;). 

Frank Castle: Frank had been nocturnal for a long time. He’d get restless sleep in the day, in the back of his van or in a safe house, usually in a sleeping bag and a pile of laundry, and of course without changing or brushing his teeth. 

Since moving in with you, he’s tried to clean up his act. He gets in bed and wakes up around the same time as you (assuming you have a somewhat regular sleep schedule, if not he’s in at 10ish and up at 6:30ish), he has pajamas you bought together and always takes a shower right before bed, he’s slowly being re-domesticated. Frank always makes the bed after you’ve both woken up, force of habit from his military training. His alarm clock is set at the lowest level but he still jumps out of bed like somebody’s crashed a cymbal next to his ear, his vigilante past has left him pretty high strung. He’s also plagued by nightmares, of the death of his family, of the horrors he’s seen, of you suffering the same fate. He twists around and whimpers in his sleep, the best way to stop them is to cuddle, nothing helps him sleep like being the big spoon, feeling you safely tucked inside his arms. 

[mrs-elsie-barnes]

Back To Work | Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader | Drabble - 800 words

Retirement, a new house, a romantic evening planned, Bucky just knew that life was all going too well . Especially when he starts being hounded to return to his superhero life.

Warnings: language, fluff, a little angsty at the end. Featuring domestic thunderbolts Bucky.

Dividers by @firefly-graphics and @reveriesources

Masterlist | Bucky Barnes

“Bucky, are you ready to go baby?” Your voice carried through from the living room as he clicked his arm back into place, shrugging his shoulder to get the fit right. 

You'd been excited all day, buzzing around the new house and opening boxes, trying to unpack at the same time as finding the perfect outfit. Bucky was only half regretting making plans so soon after moving, sure it was stressful trying to dig out his nice shoes from the piles of boxes and bags, but seeing you so happy was completely worth it and knowing you’d be coming home to your house, together, was just the icing on the cake. 

Now the sun was setting and you had turned on the downlighters in the kitchen, void of your usual clutter it looked lonely. 

“Just checking my phone, Doll.” He called back picking the offending item up from the counter - so many missed messages, he sighed.

 He'd been better recently, replying to Sam and catching up with him every week or so. He'd even managed to facetime Steve in his retirement home. He quite enjoyed the easy freedom of digital communication. But today, of all days, it had been pinging non-stop all driving him crazy during the drive and ruining the relaxing and, he hoped, romantic atmosphere he was trying to create. 

“Come on, baby, I don't want to be late.” You strolled into the kitchen and he dropped the phone again to focus his attention on you instead, taking in your dress and heels, your lipstick perfectly done. How could he worry about a stupid phone when you were together. 

“C’mere,” he pulled you close, tucking you under his chin and planting a kiss to the top of your head. 

He smelt lovely, fresh from the shower but with the hint of cut wood from building furniture. His vest revealed the hint of his dog tags, outlined under the fabric, as well as his tanned skin from a summer well spent outside, your traced your fingers over the chain and up his neck. Tangling your fingers in his long hair you tugged him down for a kiss. 

“Love you, Buck.” You whispered against his lips, heat surging through you just at his presence. 

“Love you too.” His lips tickled your cheek, behind your ear, and then he was swinging you up onto the counter. 

“Don't make us late!” 

“If you don't like it, stop giggling.” His fingers tickled up your bare legs, eyes twinkling with desire. 

Ping 

“That fucking phone,” Bucky growled, grabbing it again. More messages, more missed calls. 

“You should see what they want,” wrapping your arms and legs around him as you tugged Bucky closer, every line and curve fitting against him perfectly. He was sun warmed and cuddly, still ridiculously strong, but the hard lines and plains had softened since his retirement and you couldn’t get enough. 

“Fine, for you, then we're going to go and have a nice dinner and I'm leaving this stupid thing here.” He grumbled, chin on top of your head. 

You giggled again, leaving kisses on his chest. Bucky was so attached to that thing you didn't believe it for a second. Until his breathing went funny, heartbeat speeding up beneath your cheek. 

“What is it?”

His eyes had lost their sparkle, looking sad and serious. 

“I might have to rearrange dinner.” 

“What? Why?” You couldn’t see the phone, but his eyes raced across whatever he’d been sent.

“Where did we pack the gear?”

“The what? Oh - uh,it's in the trunk, in the garage but -” 

Bucky slid away, eyes glazed, focussed, intent and you were suddenly so cold without his presence.Your heart sank listening to the movement in the garage on the other side of the wall. 

He emerged ten minutes later, his smart trousers and vest discarded in favour of leather, the dirty t-shirt he'd been wearing while you were unpacking was back and he’d at least grabbed his soft leather jacket for protection. 

You threw yourself into his arms, tears springing to your eyes. “Are you needed?” 

“I think so,” his voice was low, sinking into the headspace required to take on whatever danger was lurking. 

“Come back to me in one piece, okay?” Your voice cracked, arms squeezing him impossibly tight.

“Of course, doll.” He looked at you then, tears welling in his own eyes, his lips so soft against your own. 

“You're my hero, you know that? You don't have to do anything else?” 

He nodded, letting you slide back to the floor, heels clicking on the tile in a sad reminder of your ruined evening. 

“I love you, Bucky.”

“I love you, lock the door behind me, okay? Don’t let anyone, anyone, in.” 

It was your turn to nod, you knew the protocols, the rules that reassured him. 

His bike roared to life, then he was gone, and you were alone in the echo of your home. 

[fallenbratfiction]

no one bullies my kid ~ dad!bucky

Your seven-year-old gets bullied at school and Bucky cannot allow this ever happening again. Bucky threatens a child here.

masterlist faq

A/N: I thought of this before going to bed and I am a sucker for domestic and dad! bucky. Stop I melted this was supposed to be a funny "haha imagine Bucky threatening a child" and it turned into more before I realized.

mentions: protective dad!bucky, domestic fluff, soft!bucky, ex-assassin now full-time dad, school drama, bucky threatened a child (but like, gently), supportive uncle steve, found family feels, comfort and hugs. Let me know if I missed any mentions, I'll be sure to add them.

minors dni with me or my blog. i am not responsible for what you choose to consume.

do not copy, translate or claim any of my work as your own.

You knew something was wrong the second the front door opened. Not just because it slammed, but because your kid—your sweet, funny little seven-year-old—stormed in, backpack half unzipped, eyes glassy and red.

Bucky was already rising from the couch. “Hey. What happened, kid?”

No answer. Just the sound of a sniff and quick feet heading down the hall to their room, slamming that door too. You exchanged a glance with Bucky. You could see the shift in him. His jaw set, shoulders stiff. Protective-mode fully activated.

“I got it,” he said. “Just… gimme a second.”

You stood in the hallway, watching as he knocked gently on the door. “Pal? C’mon. Tell me what’s goin’ on.”

A muffled voice came through. “Nothing.”

“Doesn’t sound like nothing.” His voice softened. “I can’t fix it if I don’t know, buddy.”

A pause. Then, quieter: “A kid at school said I’m weird. That I talk too much. Said I only have friends because they feel bad for me.”

That was it.

You watched Bucky close his eyes, just for a second. Deep breath. Controlled. Then he stepped into the room. You followed after, in time to see him kneel by the bed, one hand brushing your kid’s hair back and resting his hand on your kid's shoulder.

“Listen to me,” he said. “You are not weird. You are brilliant. You’re funny. You’ve got more heart than most grown adults I know. And if some little punk can’t see that—then that’s on them. Not you.”

Your kid blinked at him, lip trembling. “You’re just saying that ‘cause you have to.”

Bucky grinned. “Nope. I’m sayin’ it ‘cause it’s true.”

They nodded slowly, still sad—but calmer.

“Now,” Bucky added, standing up and rolling his shoulders like he was heading into battle, “What’s this kid’s name?”

You raised your brows. “James.”

“I’m just asking.” He shot you a look. “Just for… situational awareness.”

“Bucky, you cannot threaten a child.”

“I’m not gonna hurt him,” Bucky said innocently. “But if I accidentally show up at pickup tomorrow wearing full tactical gear and staring him down with my metal arm on display—well. That’s not technically a threat, is it?”

“James.”

“Fine,” he muttered. “I’ll wear a hoodie.”

----------------NEXT DAY AT PICK UP

You were standing by the car when Bucky walked back from the school gates, calm but with purpose in every step. You hadn’t seen the interaction—only caught the tail end, where one terrified eleven-year-old shrunk about five inches under the weight of Bucky’s death-glare and murmured something like “Sorry, I didn’t mean it.”

Bucky slid into the driver’s seat like a man who had just conducted a very civil interrogation.

“You didn’t punch him, right?” you asked, eyebrow raised.

“Nope.”

“Bucky.”

“I didn’t. I talked.”

You gave him a look.

He shrugged. “With my eyes.”

----------------------

Later that afternoon, your kid stood barefoot in the backyard, still a little shaken but smiling. Bucky was crouched beside them in the grass, arm around their shoulders.

“Okay,” he said. “We’re not looking for a fight, alright? But if anyone lays a hand on you—anyone—you make sure they never forget it.”

Your kid blinked up at him. “But I’m small.”

Bucky grinned. “You think size matters? Lemme tell you something.” He tapped their chest gently. “This? This is what counts.”

Your kid nodded slowly, taking it all in.

Then Bucky stood up, pulling them gently to their feet.

“C’mere, I’m gonna show you something I taught your uncle Steve when he was getting picked on when we were younger.”

Your seven-year-old lit up. “UNCLE STEVE GOT BULLIED?!”

“Oh yeah. All the time.”

“But he’s huge!”

“He wasn’t always huge. He was tiny. Like… coat rack with a mouth tiny.”

“Did he cry?”

“Only when I wasn’t there to see it,” Bucky said with a wink. “But then I taught him how to throw a punch. Just like this.”

He adjusted their stance, nudged their feet into position, lifted their hands.

“Now, aim right here,” Bucky said, pointing to the chin of an imaginary opponent. “This is the off switch.”

Your kid grinned, winding up like a windmill.

“Whoa, whoa, not like that,” Bucky laughed. “You’re not trying to stir soup, kid. Straight shot. Wrist straight. No thumb inside the fist unless you want it broken.”

You watched from the porch as they practiced the motion again and again, each time a little better, a little prouder.

Until finally your kid turned around and asked, “Did it work? Did Uncle Steve stop getting bullied after that?”

Bucky gave a soft laugh, like something old and golden was buried in his memory.

“Eventually. But mostly ‘cause people got tired of him standing back up.”

You were halfway through your coffee when your phone buzzed with a call from the school. You answered it expecting something minor—missed homework or permission slips.

What you got was: “Hi, yes, we’re going to need both you and Mr. Barnes to come in. There’s been a complaint. It’s… regarding a threat made toward a student.”

You paused. Turned toward Bucky. “Did you threaten a child?”

“I told him to watch how he talks to people smaller than him.”

“That is a threat.”

He took a sip of coffee. “That’s character development.”

---------------------- PRINCIPAL'S OFFICE

You walked in first. Bucky followed behind you, in full “don’t fuck with me” mode—leather jacket, sleeves rolled up just enough to show a flash of metal, sunglasses still on indoors.

Inside the office sat the principal, Mrs. Avery. Across from her were the boy’s parents: a very polished, very irritated couple, arms crossed, child nestled between them like some poor traumatized porcelain doll.

You sat down. Bucky didn’t.

“Mr. Barnes,” Mrs. Avery began, already stiff. “Do you know why you’re here?”

“Because I told a disrespectful little shit to keep my kid’s name out of his mouth?”

You kicked his foot under the table. He winced, then added, “—with kindness. Obviously.”

The other parents gasped. The mom clutched her pearls. “You intimidated our son.”

Bucky tilted his head. “Did I raise my voice?”

“No,” the dad muttered.

“Did I touch him?”

“No.”

“Then maybe the real problem is that your son isn’t used to being held accountable.”

You covered your mouth and closed your eyes in a prayer. God give me strength.

Mrs. Avery pinched the bridge of her nose. “Mr. Barnes, while I understand your protective instincts, we have a zero-tolerance policy for adults confronting students.”

Bucky finally sat, slow and measured. “And what’s your policy on students harassing other students until they come home crying?”

The room went still.

You could see the principal falter. The bully’s parents looked like they wanted to say something, but… couldn’t. Because their perfect little angel had been caught being an asshole.

“You don’t have to like me,” Bucky said, voice calm. “But you will respect the fact that I’m not gonna sit back and watch my kid get picked on. Not by your kid, not by any kid. So if I have to be the villain in your story to make sure mine doesn’t end up afraid to go to school? Fine. I’ve been worse.”

You exhaled—low-key impressed, high-key terrified of the future PTA meetings.

Mrs. Avery cleared her throat. “Let’s… move forward with a mediation plan for the kids.”

Bucky raised his brow. “Does it involve their kid apologizing?”

Later that day, after the incident at the round table, you and Bucky waited by the school gates for pickup.

You were still reeling from the chaos. Bucky looked relaxed, leaning against a tree like he hadn’t just verbally disarmed two overprotective yuppies and a principal in one sitting.

Your kid spotted you and bolted over.

“Dad!” they grinned, cheeks flushed with excitement. “Did you really say he needed to keep my name out of his mouth?!”

Bucky smirked. “Who told you that?”

“Ms. Tanner. She was in the hallway. She said you had serious Batman energy.”

You burst out laughing. Bucky looked far too pleased.

Then your kid, grinning even bigger, reached out for a high five—and Bucky gave it like it was the most important handshake of his life.

“I love you, Dad.”

“Love you too, kid.”

And before Bucky could even react, your kid threw their arms around his waist in a tight, full-body hug—face pressed against his torso, like they were trying to fuse into him.

Bucky froze for a second, like the moment knocked the air out of him.

Then slowly—gently—he wrapped one arm around their shoulders, the other patting their back in an awkward rhythm that melted into something steady. Familiar. His hand settled there, resting between their shoulder blades, then crouched down instinctively, arms open.

“Hey,” he murmured, voice low. “You’re my whole world, y’know that?”

Your kid didn’t answer—just buried his face in Bucky's neck.

Tiny arms around his shoulders, little fingers curled in his shirt.

“I’ve got you,” he murmured, one hand sliding up to cup the back of their head. “I’ve always got you.”

And for once, Bucky let himself stand there, arms around something that was safe and his and real, without thinking about what came before or what might come after.

You stood there by the car, heart basically melting, watching your reformed-assassin husband get completely undone by a kid that fit perfectly in his arms.

Bucky pressed his cheek against their temple, eyes fluttering shut for a second like he was remembering how to breathe—then he shifted his weight, stood, and lifted him right off the ground.

"Let's go home, yeah?"

-----------------------------------------

Saturday morning. Backyard. Bucky’s got your kid out again practicing footwork—slow, controlled moves. You’re watching from the porch with coffee, amused at how serious he looks for a game of “self-defense 101.”

And then: the sound of a very familiar motorcycle pulls up.

Your kid’s face lights up.

“UNCLE STEEEEEVE!”

Steve steps off the bike in jeans and a Henley like a walking golden-hour ad. He barely has time to take his helmet off before your kid flings themselves at him.

“Oof—hey there, firecracker!”

Bucky crosses his arms, smirking. “Took you long enough.”

Steve shoots him a look. “You threatened a child. I had to reschedule three meetings to come deal with the PR disaster.”

“He had it coming.”

“I know. That’s why I brought some pie.”

Later, your kid pulls Steve aside while Bucky sets up a makeshift punching bag.

“Uncle Steve? Is it true you got bullied?”

Steve sits on the steps, stretches his legs out with a soft smile. “Sure is. All the time.”

“But you’re Captain America.”

He chuckles. “Wasn’t always. Used to be small. Sickly. Couldn’t throw a punch without falling over.”

Your kid’s mouth falls open. “No way.”

Steve leans in, tapping their chest gently. “This is what got me through. Not muscles. Not a shield. Just being brave, even when I was scared.”

They blink up at him. “Did Dad teach you how to fight?”

Steve grins. “Oh yeah. First punch I ever threw? Your dad showed me how. Got my nose broken anyway, but I looked cool doing it.”

Bucky, from across the yard: “You cried for fifteen minutes.”

“Character development,” Steve deadpans.

That night, Steve stays for dinner. Bucky grills. You pour some wine. The kid is showing off his “combat stance” in the living room, wobbling slightly but proud as hell.

Steve leans over to you in the kitchen. “Y’know, for a guy who used to be a war assassin, Buck’s actually doing okay.”

You smile, watching Bucky gently correct your kid’s form with a patience he pretends not to have.

“He’s not so bad, huh?”

Steve snorts. “Not bad at all. Just… terrifying.”

Then, from the living room:

“Dad, what if the bully tries again?”

Bucky, calm as ever, flipping a burger on the grill. “Then he’s gonna learn why they call me the Winter Soldier.”

Record scratch.

You and Steve in unison

“NO.” “ABSOLUTELY NOT.”

Had a good laugh writing this piece, i hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it!! Feedback is always welcome!

Shares, Reblogs, Likes & Comments help stories grow! I'm thankful for every single one of them! ✨✨🩷

[donaweasley]

A Home With You

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Plot:

It had become a quiet routine for Bucky to crash at your place whenever he felt like he needed it. You didn't mind at all, of course! But eventually, you find yourself being pulled in the whirlpool of something stronger. And Bucky? Well, you wouldn't know until you ask him, right?

Genre: Fluff, domestic, friends-to-lovers

Warnings: None

Read time: ~16 mins

You tried to dedicate at least one weekend a month to rearranging your wardrobe. After many failed attempts at not missing these deadlines, you had finally accepted that organising wardrobes just wasn’t your thing. Most days you’d simply stand there, staring at the crumpled, slumping stacks of fabric inside, mentally organising them, before shutting the doors with a dramatic huff and a defeated acceptance of “That’s too much work! Next week!”

But today was not that day. Today you were determined to see neat stacks by sundown, no matter what came in the way!

Bucky had returned from a mission late last night and, though he insisted on being the cook for the day, you had managed to nudge him into tending the plants instead, if he really needed something to busy his hands.

Food was scheduled to be at your doorstep in around two hours, and an old album, playing from a Bluetooth speaker in the living room, filled the house with rhythm and nostalgia. Everything was sorted, except for your wardrobe.

As you pulled out the first two bundles of semi-neatly folded clothes, you paused. Around half of the occupants there were not even yours. They were Bucky’s. You took one shirt, unfolded it, and pressed it to your nose, inhaling the soft scent of fresh laundry, tinged with something distinctly him. The long sleeves draped over your shoulders loosely, as though hinting at a shadow of an embrace that its owner was yet to give you.

With a lazy smile now hanging on your lips, you carefully placed the garment alongside the rest of the clothes, and took out the next stack. This one revealed two of his old t-shirts and a pair of shorts that he wore to bed when he stayed over. Well, on the makeshift bed in your apartment that had slowly, almost shyly, become his.

It suddenly dawned on you how every little piece in your apartment had his signature on it. Not loud, not overshadowing your essence, but seamlessly stitched into your space, like a second thread running alongside your own.

Your mind slowly drifted back to the first day that Bucky had crashed at your place.

It was past midnight. You remembered getting startled when the doorbell rang. The little peephole had revealed a worn-out Bucky in a hoodie. His long hair, drenched with the weight of the rain outside, shadowed his eyes as he hung his head and stared at your threshold. You had opened the door in panic, fearing the worst. What other reason would Bucky Barnes have to appear at your doorstep, in the middle of the night, wearing a fatigue that you had rarely seen on him ever since he had been friends with Sam!

“Can I …” A long exhale had punctuated his words. “Can I stay here for the night?”

That simple question - raw and pleading - had left you breathless. He had been your friend, alright, but never had you imagined him seeking you out for comfort when the weight of the world had become too much to bear alone.

And then, eventually, it became a routine. Every time he was upset beyond repair, every time he returned from a complex mission, every time he needed someone to lean on, Bucky would appear at your doorstep. And you? You would always welcome him with all the warmth and cosiness that you could offer as a friend, until your place had started feeling like a home to him.

Now, almost a year later, your place is painted with little strokes of Bucky. After three to four months of finding the large man trying to awkwardly fit into your couch, you had ultimately exchanged it for a sofa-bed. The furniture was well beyond its good days anyway, so why not replace it with something more useful? Just a practical choice, nothing else, you had reasoned.

With Bucky coming over to your place more often each week, some of his clothes had found their place in between your ones.

“It’s more convenient this way,” he had told you, avoiding your amused eyes.

Your sink needed fixing? Bucky was your man. You weren’t feeling strong enough to carry on through the day? Bucky would make you your favourite meal, and then be the shoulder to lean on as you distracted yourself with movies and shows.

His favourite brand of tea lived on your kitchen shelf, not far from a box of his favourite cookies. A seashell that he had once found on the beach sat on a side table in your living room.

“It looks better in your apartment,” he had argued. “Besides, I’m sort of careless with these things.”

Hell, he even had a spare toothbrush in your bathroom!

A smile crept up on your dazed face when you remembered the night you had run your fingers through the tousled hair of a sleeping Bucky, and had kissed his forehead while whispering, “You can stay here for as long as you like.” You had always wondered later if he had really been asleep at that moment.

Your mind even had the audacity to bring up the memory of the first time you had seen Bucky in your oversized t-shirt and a pair of really old shorts, freshly showered, hair sprinkled with droplets of water, smelling of your shower gel and shampoo, with your towel hanging around his neck. It was a thrilling sight to behold, to say the least, surprising as well but also calming and … intimate? Like there was something so beautifully domestic about it. You were busy fixing his bed on the old couch when your brain had stopped functioning. It was only when a cushion had slipped out of your numb fingers, drawing Bucky’s attention, that you realised the embarrassing situation you had put yourself in. Back then, you had dismissed the feeling as “a passing phase”. But now, thinking back, your cheeks burned when you realised that falling for James Buchanan Barnes wasn’t a recent event. You had started admiring the man long before you had realised it.

As the reel of memories slowly unfolded in your mind, you realised that Bucky had quietly built a home in your house. Quietly. Softly. Whether he realised it or not was a different chapter but the domestic life that you both shared - even though only twice or thrice a week - was actually the secret to your newfound happiness.

The super soldier smiled more, his nightmares had almost disappeared, his shoulders were more relaxed. Your loneliness had vanished, you were more active than ever, you were finally inspired to pursue your hobbies, and your place glowed with laughter, warmth and peace - those little feelings that suspiciously felt like love. And you realised that maybe - just maybe, because even though all signs were clearly screaming delightfully, you were still afraid to hope - that this entire unsaid, unofficial, semi-roommate arrangement that you had between yourselves was a lot more than what it looked like.

You screamed into his t-shirt in frustration because you knew absolutely well that you were already neck-deep in love with him, and it utterly terrified you - how quietly it had happened, how completely it had taken over! There was no single moment to point to, no grand confession, no accidental brush of hands that set your heart spinning. Just … the slow blooming of comfort. The way his laughter now lived in the walls of your apartment. The way he knew where you kept every little thing in your kitchen; in fact, he sometimes knew them better than you did. The way your name sounded different when he pronounced it - softer, like a prayer he liked to whisper. Indeed, you now recalled, you had once drunkenly confessed to him that your name sounded the best on his mouth. As though, he knew the perfect way to say it!

You pressed the t-shirt tighter to your face, as if the cotton fabric could muffle the rising storm in your chest. This wasn’t supposed to happen. He was your friend - your safe place, your shared coffee, your companion on quiet Sunday afternoons. And yet, somehow, he had become the pulse of your home, and the echo of his footsteps down your living room now felt more like belonging than any words ever could.

Clutching his garment in hand, you quietly tiptoed to the balcony where Bucky had been working all morning. A new warmth bloomed in your chest at the sight of the freshly shined and trimmed monstera, the newly repotted line of succulents, and the peace lilies that flowered like they had just experienced the best Spring of their lives! Eventually, your line of sight led you to the man behind all these toil.

He sat with his back towards you, quietly humming the song currently reverberating through the house while carefully coaxing a stubborn vine of pothos into staying in its trellis. His hair was shorter now, cropped tight at the sides, giving you a better view of his beautiful face. Sunlight painted his shoulders and back in amber, and left the back of his head looking like a canvas woven out of gold.

You padded closer, your fingers closing around the t-shirt like a vice. Bucky was either too engrossed in his work to notice you - which you seriously doubted, given his enhanced reflexes - or he was too comfortable with being around you to find your presence startling.

“We need another wardrobe,” you announced in an almost confident and nonchalant manner. Almost. Because your nerves twisted your pitch into being higher than you had intended, making you flinch at your own voice.

“Yeah?” His eyes were still fixed on the vine that was on the verge of giving in to his attempts. “Okay, tell me when you’d like to-”

His movements stilled. You knew that he had realised. Your hands were almost wringing the t-shirt now.

“We”.

The word had echoed back to him a second later.

He turned halfway toward you, brows pinched slightly, lips pressed together tightly as if trying to make sure he had heard it right. His eyes flicked to yours, searching, reading, hesitating.

Your focus suddenly seemed to shift to the cloth in your hand. “There-there’s not enough room for our stuff.” You shifted awkwardly on your feet. “I mean, you know I’m a shopper and a keeper! So… And you do have some of your stuff in here as well, and I won’t really mind if you were to bring more of them. I mean, that would be … uhh … that would be great! Really, I … Would you?”

You were a rambling mess! But the anticipation bursting in your entire being finally made you look at him. You swallowed, heat rising to your cheeks.

Silence stretched between you - soft yet pulsating. The song from the speaker now seemed like background music floating from somewhere far away.

Bucky’s mouth parted slightly, his voice caught somewhere between disbelief and the beginnings of a smile, “Yeah, I’d love to. You … you sure?”

The t-shirt, now creased in your grip, seemed to call for your attention again. You were almost speaking to it instead of the man before you when you said, “Of course! You could bring all your stuff here.” You had just realised what you said, and your throat went dry. “If you want,” you added meekly.

Bucky stared at you for a few seconds. Slowly, he stood up, removed the gloves from his hands, and dusted off the remnants of soil from his palms and wrists. Had you been able to look at him, you’d have chuckled at his rather comical attempts at forbidding his lethal smirk from making its way to his face.

“What exactly are you suggesting, doll?”

“Doll”.

Just when you thought that you had become acquainted with the strange feeling that this word always seeped into you, it started sounding different. Heavier, this time, laced with an adoration that you had never noticed before.

“Well,” you cleared your throat and looked into his eyes, “this place already knows you. Won’t harm if it knows you better.”

Bucky pressed his lips tight again and shook his head as though not understanding your words, although his eyes clearly shone with mischief.

“Good God, Bucky!” The cocktail of emotions brewing within you finally burst. “Stop being an arse! You want to hear it aloud? Fine! Move in with me. I want you to move in with me.”

He laughed, quiet and stunned, like the sound had crept out of him without permission. “God, doll! Thought you’d never ask!”

A wave of relief washed over you at his words! Although you were jumping and screaming inside, on the outside, you could only manage a small, shy smile, like the onset of Spring - tentative yet hopeful. He looked at you like he didn’t dare blink, as though one wrong movement might shatter the spell.

“C’mere,” he said softly. His flesh hand stretched towards you, as though inviting you to a new adventure.

You stepped forward, heart stammering, and he took the t-shirt from your hands - his t-shirt - and set it gently over the back of the nearby chair like it was something he did everyday. His fingers, calloused and steady, brushed yours in the process, just briefly. Just enough to make your breath catch.

“I’ve been leaving pieces of myself here for months,” he murmured. “Thought - well, hoped - that one day you’d understand why. Had never planned on it but…this place now feels more like a home than any other place has ever felt to me.” His blue eyes shone with joy. His hands searched for yours, and you instinctively surrendered.

“I really like having these pieces around,” you responded quietly, afraid that speaking any louder might disrupt the moment. “And I want more of them around. Everyday. I had been wanting more of you around for a long time now … probably. … But never realised it … until now.”

“Took you pretty long to realise,” that familiar lop-sided smile played at his lips, and those hooded eyes traced your face reverently, like it was something sacred.

It stunned you breathless. Your words came out in whispers, “Well, I’m allowed to be stupid sometimes. But why didn’t you say anything?”

He sighed, his own voice dropping to a hushed note, thick with emotion, “I didn’t want to scare you away.”

“Scare me away?” You raised your brows, incredulous. “Do you really think that you could scare me away? You overestimate yourself, Sergeant!”

Bucky chuckled, “Well, yeah, I’m allowed to be stupid sometimes.” And his soft laughter echoed in your throat.

He stood there in front of you - the same old friend who had always been your second nature - but bathed in a new light. Your pulse raced when you became aware of the softness with which he looked at you, of the warm smile that was meant only for you, of the trust and love that he had for you.

A canopy of comfortable silence covered you both. Your fingers entwined with each other a little more, thumbs soothingly circled over the backs of your hands a little more, sparks flew around you more than you could care to hold back.

“Bucky?” Your voice was almost shy, and your face unveiled of all pretence. There was only an array of unbridled emotions. “I mean, this may be too sudden, and I do want to take it slow. Not rush into it. But I just… I can’t… I really want to… God!! Can I-”

“Yes! Please!” Bucky understood your question before you had to word it out.

His flesh hand delicately cupped your face while his metal fingers gently moved a strand of hair that had been clinging to the corner of your lips for a while now, They caressed your cheek with their back while descending your jawline. Bucky looked into your eyes one last time before surrendering himself to the ocean of your combined feelings.

His lips touched your softly, almost like a prayer. In response, he found yours caressing him with assurance, with purpose. That was all he needed. Bidding goodbye to his insecurities and doubts, he cradled your face in both hands, and kissed you like you were the last angel in the Universe, like you held the pitcher to the lips of his thirsty soul, like this was the first and the last time that he was allowed to love.

It gradually deepened - the kiss that had answers to every bit of longing you both had experienced all this time. Bucky took his time cherishing the feeling of your tongue on his. His arms had locked you in a tight embrace. His hands mapped your structure from the head to the waist. You gripped his shirt like it was the only thing tethering you to this plane. Your other hand wove into his hair, and gently tugged on them, eliciting sweet sounds from the supersoldier.

Breaths mingling, panting, both of you finally pulled apart only to rest your foreheads against each other. Without warning, you wrapped yourself tightly around him, anchoring him home. And Bucky could not help but close his eyes at the pang of emotions that swelled in his chest.

“I was an idiot,” you mumbled into his neck, “to not see this sooner. But now I do, I love you. You know, not as friends but … I-want-to-make-a-home-with-you kind.”

A wide smile broke across Bucky’s face. “I know,” he replied softly while gently kissing your neck. “I love you, too. In that I-want-to-live-the-rest-of-my-life-permanently-crashing-at-your-place kind”.

The giggle that erupted from you as you pulled away just enough to look at him, sounded like Christmas bells in his ears.

“So, how do we begin our new journey?” Bucky asked, softly tracing your face with a warm hand.

“Right now. In my room.” Bucky’s brows arched at your words and his lips parted in disbelief. “By helping me clean up the mess called my wardrobe. I mean … our wardrobe,” you corrected with a smirk.

Laughter spilled into the apartment, bouncing off the walls like sunlight.

“Yes, ma’am.” 

The low baritone, the intensity in his eyes and something about the way he called you “ma’am” sent electricity shooting down your body. You tried to push the feeling down by shifting your visual focus from Bucky to the plants outside. Needless to say, it didn’t work.

“So, do I still have to sleep on that sofa-bed?” He asked as you both sauntered towards your room.

Heat rose to your cheeks. You knew he saw it. And yet, you had the audacity of feigning annoyance at his question. “One step at a time, Sergeant! One step at a time.”

Bucky laughed and picked you up like his bride, despite your shrieks, stealing another kiss from your squealing mouth as he did, before covering the short distance to your room in a few strides.

***

[superbassbuck]

Grade-A Pain in My Ass

Single dad!Bucky x Teacher!Reader, enemies to lovers fanfic

64.2k words || completed || domestic fluff || sexual tension || no y/n || f!reader || angst/comfort || smut

Bucky Barnes is a single dad who doesn’t do love. He’s got everything he needs: a steady job, cozy home, and his whole life wrapped up in one little girl, his daughter Rebecca. No complications, and absolutely no room for romance. After a rude and not-so-pleasant first encounter, he finds out you’re the elementary school teacher of Rebecca’s class. He would make it his mission to avoid you at all costs and to absolutely not fall in love with you. I mean, how could he? Especially since you’re a grade-A pain in his ass.

can be read on ao3 here <3

[wildflowersandvibranium]

Our Safe Place

Here’s , PART ONE (this can be read as stand alone)

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

Summary: Bucky ; a new father cherishes the first day home with his newborn daughter, tenderly adjusting to their new life together. AS a family of four...including alpine.

Word Count: 2.5k ish

Warnings/Tags: FLUFFYYY Pregnancy mentioned , birth mentioned but not showed , newborn baby , girl dad Bucky , amazing domestic husband bucky , postpartum symptoms mentioned , alpine featured 🐾

if i missed anything let me know!

Authors Note: aaaaand im back with MORE domestic dad buckyyyyy you guys have been eating UP my last ones so heres more of my fav thing ever to write enjoyyy 💖

MY MASTERLIST🌷

The hospital room was perfectly quiet , save for the soft squeaks of your newborn baby daughter snuggled right against your chest. 

Sunlight streamed through the window , catching on the pale blue and white hospital blanket wrapped around her tiny little body. 

Bucky was at your side , broad shoulders somehow more tense than usual,  his eyes locked on the baby like she might vanish if he blinked or looked away for more than just a second.

You reached up to squeeze his hand. “Buck, you’re going to wear a hole in the floor if you keep pacing.”

He stopped , blinking like he’d just realized he’d been moving. “Sorry, doll. I just… can’t believe she’s here. That she’s ours.”

You smiled , brushing your thumb over the soft fuzz of your baby’s squishy pink cheek. “She’s perfect.”

He leaned down , pressing a kiss to your forehead , then to the baby’s. “Yeah she really is.”

A gentle knock on the door had you both looking up. 

A nurse poked her head in , smiling. “Alright , Mrs. Barnes , we’re all set to take you and this little one home.”

Bucky’s entire face lit up like the sun had decided to live there. 

He eagerly reached for the car seat , his big hands careful and sure , and you couldn’t help but watch as he fumbled with the straps at first but got it perfect , then gently placed your daughter inside. She let out a soft coo of disapproval for settled in once Bucky rubbed her belly.

“Ready to go , mama?” he asked , his voice soft looking at you like the most precious thing he's ever witnessed.

“Ready,” you breathed.

Bucky knelt in front of the car seat , adjusting her little onesie. 

“Hey, peanut,” he whispered, his thumb brushing over her tiny fingers. “Ready for your first car ride? You're gonna do great Daddy’s got you.”

You watched him , heart so full it felt like it might split open and pour out. This was the same man who once believed he didn’t deserve soft things , didn’t deserve a family. 

Now he was here , gently adjusting the hat on his newborn’s head , tears in his eyes.

══✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿══

They had to wheel you out in the wheelchair , you insisted you could walk just fine but it was hospital policy , it made you feel a little silly seeing everyone watch you get rolled through the halls. 

Bucky walked beside you , the car seat cradled in his strong arms like the most precious cargo in the world , because it was. 

Every nurse and doctor your little family passed gave you both soft , knowing smiles. Some even paused to peek at your daughter , cooing and offering congratulations and compliments.

At the exit , the nurse stopped to hold the door for you two, and Bucky looked at you over the top of the car seat.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Better than okay,” you said , your eyes locked on him , on the little girl sleeping so peacefully in her seat. “Let’s go home.”

He nodded , his lips parting in a smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes. “Home,” he echoed.

Outside , the air was fresh and cool , the city’s noise a comforting hum around you. 

Bucky kept glancing at the baby every few steps , his lips moving in a silent prayer of thanks. When he reached the car , he hesitated for a moment , then gently placed the carrier in the backseat.

══✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿══

You settled in the backseat next to your daughter , your left hand coming up and resting on the side of the car seat. Bucky double-checked every buckle , every strap , then checked them again. 

When he finally climbed into the driver’s seat , he looked at you in the mirror.

“Buckle tight enough?” he asked.

“Yes, Bucky,” you said, laughter in your voice. “She’s safe.”

He started the car , but every stoplight on the way home he twisted around, one hand braced on the seat to make sure you were both okay. “She’s still breathing, right?”

You grinned. “She’s perfect, Buck.”

“Just checking,” he said, his voice low, but you could hear the smile there too.

Or at every stop sign a quick “My girls alright?” eyes still on the road and you of course reassured you two were safe and content.

══✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿══

By the time he pulled into your apartment’s parking spot , you were both exhausted but filled to the brim with excitement. 

Bucky practically sprinted around the car to open the door for you , helping you stand even though you insisted you were fine again.

“I’ve got you,” he murmured , his metal arm around your waist , the other hand on the car seat handle gripping it securely.

Inside , the apartment smelled faintly of the vanilla candle you’d left burning last time you were here. The last time you were a family of just two.

The sun was beginning to set , a golden glow bouncing off the skyline , and it felt like the entire place exhaled in relief—like it had been waiting for you to come back , to bring this new little life home.

He settled you in the bedroom , propping up pillows behind you on the bed , grabbing your water bottle , and pulling the beedside baby cart you two made right up beside you. “Alright, mama. You comfortable?”

“More than,” you said , reaching out for the car seat.

He lifted it up to the bed , easing your daughter out with hands that dwarfed her tiny form. 

He laid her in your arms , his hand lingering on the blanket.

“You’re amazing,” he whispered. “You brought her into the world. You’re… just amazing.”

You felt tears prick your eyes. “Bucky…”

He shook his head, his own eyes wet. “No, let me say it. You’re everything and more.”

As you shifted the baby in your arms getting you two perfectly comfortable , a soft meow cut through the quiet. 

Alpine , your sweet white cat , hopped onto the bed , her bright eyes locked on the new little bundle in your arms.

“Hey, sweet girl,” you murmured. “Come meet your little sister.”

Bucky hovered, watching carefully , but Alpine seemed to understand. 

She softly nosed at the baby’s blanket smelling her , then curled up against your side , purring.

“She’s already protective,” Bucky said , a smile pulling at his lips.

“Just like her daddy,” you teased.

He rolled his eyes, but you could see the way his shoulders relaxed. “Just want her to be safe. Both of you.”

══✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿══

You fed the baby while Bucky unpacked the hospital bags , moving around the apartment , he’d been waiting years for this moment. He’d pause every so often , peeking over at you , checking if you needed refills on water, a snack , a different pillow, anything he could grab you or the baby.

When he finally finished , he settled beside you on the bed. You switched on the TV, a soft , cozy baking show filling the quiet with gentle chatter.

He took the baby from your arms , settling her against his broad chest. She let out a tiny sigh , her little hand curled in his shirt , her cheek squished into his soft tshirt..

You watched him , the way his shoulders softened, the way his lips curved into that toothy private smile he saved just for you and now your daughter. 

“You’re cute,” you laughed kissing his cheek. 

You pushed yourself to stand , wincing only a little at the tenderness and soreness from only giving birth the day before. “I’m going to shower. Get the hospital funk off of me.”

Bucky looked up , concern flickering over his face. “You sure you’re okay? I can help–”

You pressed a comforting kiss to his temple. “I’m okay. I’ll be quick ill use that fancy shower chair you got me” You winked , standing up.

He nodded , but as you padded toward the bathroom , you heard him talking softly to your daughter.

“You know, peanut,” he murmured , his voice low and reverent, “you’ve got the best mama in the world.”

She squeaked , a tiny noise , and he chuckled. “Yeah, I agree. She’s the strongest. And the kindest. And the most beautiful of all the mamas.”

You paused at the doorway listening , heart thudding against your ribs.

“You’re so lucky, you know?” he continued, his voice barely more than a whisper. “Because she’s going to teach you everything good. She’s going to show you what love is. And I’m gonna make sure you always feel safe. Because you’re perfect , peanut. You and your mama.”

You bit your lip to keep from sobbing , slipping into the shower with your heart swelling three times the size.

══✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿══

The hot water in the shower felt like heaven , washing away the lingering antiseptic smell of the hospital. You took your time , moving carefully , every ache and twinge a reminder of the little miracle you’d just brought into the world. 

After a very sudsy and long wash off , you finally turned off the water, you could hear the faint murmur of Bucky’s voice and the gentle hum of the TV in the other room still , filling your little apartment.

You pulled on one of Bucky’s soft blue shirts , one that still smelled faintly of him—and a pair of loose sweats. 

When you stepped back into the bedroom , you found Bucky exactly where you’d left him , reclined against the headboard with your daughter sleeping against his chest. His hair was a little mused , his reading glasses perched low on his nose as he flipped through a well-worn copy of his most recent Fantasy read. 

You leaned in the doorway , your heart so full at this point it almost hurt.

“You’re reading to her already?” you teased slowly padding closer to them barefoot..

He looked up , a little sheepish. “Figured she should hear some good stories early on.”

You crossed to the bed , climbing up beside him. He shifted to make room for you , sliding his arm around your shoulders as you rested your head against his warm chest. 

You laid your hand over the baby’s tiny back , feeling the soft , steady rhythm of her breathing.

“She’s going to be a bookworm like you,” you murmured.

Bucky chuckled. “Good. I’ll take all the excuses I can get to read her stories.”

The baby stirred , making a tiny squeak that had you both holding your breath. 

She settled again almost immediately ,  her little face still pressed right up against his t-shirt , right above his dog tags.

“She already knows you’re her safe place,” you whispered.

He pressed his lips to the top of your head. “She’s got two safe places. She’s got her mama , which is mine too.”

══✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿══

The TV continued in the background , a gentle baking competition that didn’t demand any real attention. Just provided sound. 

You watched the flicker of the screen in the dim light , your mind drifting as you breathed in the scent of your daughter’s freshly lotioned skin and the warmth of your husband’s body beside you.

“I like this” you whispered against his chest , “And she smells like spun sugar,” you gave a breathy laugh.

Bucky’s thumb traced slow, soothing circles over your shoulder. “What’s that, doll?”

“This. Us. Quiet, easy.” You lifted your head to meet his eyes. “Feels perfect and at home.

His eyes softened , the way they always did when you said things like that. “It is home,” he said, his voice quiet but sure. “Wherever you and now this little bug are.”

You eventually shifted to your side , propping yourself up to watch Bucky cradle your daughter. 

He had this look on his face—soft and awestruck , like he still couldn’t quite believe she was real. And honestly neither could you.

“I can’t get over how small she is,” he whispered, his thumb brushing over her downy cheek.

“She’s going to grow so fast,” you said, a little wistful.

“I know.” His jaw worked, like he was trying to find the right words. “I just… I want to hold on to every minute , you know?”

You nodded , your eyes stinging with tears again. “Me too.”

He shifted her a little , careful not to wake her, and looked up at you with a crooked smile. “She’s got your perfect nose.”

“She’s got your bright eyes,” you shot back , grinning.

“God , how did we get such perfect little humans we get to call ours,” he said again , and you knew he’d probably be saying that every day for the rest of her life.

══✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿══

You moved to sit up fully this time , your back resting against the headboard as Bucky’s arm slid around your waist. The baby let out a tiny sigh in her sleep , her little lips parting as she dreamed.

“I didn’t know I could love someone this much,” you said quietly.

Bucky turned his head, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Me neither. Thought I used up all my love in the war, in… everything that happened. But then you…” He paused , his voice quivering. “Then you gave me this. Gave me her.”

The words you could say did not match to how much you felt in that very moment so gently and slowly you kissed him with tears falling down your eyes , expressing everything your mind and heart were screaming through that moment. 

You were first to pull away ,  he kissed your nose as you softly , lay your hand over your daughters where it peeked out of the blanket.

══✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿══

Your baby shifted again , her tiny hand opening and closing like she was dreaming of grabbing something. 

Bucky watched her, wonder in every line of his face and covering every part of his gaze. He spoke to her again , so quiet you almost didn’t hear.

“You know, peanut,” he murmured, “you’re going to grow up with so much love. More than you’ll know what to do with.”

She let out a sleepy squeak , and Bucky chuckled. “Yeah , you agree? Good girl.”

You couldn’t help but grin , brushing a kiss over his shoulder. “You’re already wrapped around her little finger, huh?”

“Hopeless,” he admitted with a smile. “Absolutely hopeless.”

══✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿══

As you both finally fell asleep putting the sweet little Baby in her bassinet by the bed , she eventually stirred , making soft , fussy noise that had you both tensing like coiled springs. 

You reached for her quickly sitting up , but Bucky shook his head. 

“I’ve got her,” he said , shifting to scoop her up. He stood up , moving to the foot of the bed to sway slowly back and forth , his big hands cradling her like she was actually made of spun sugar.

You watched him and her , your chest tight with so much love you didn’t know how to hold it all in or what to do with it. 

Bucky Barnes—once the Winter Soldier , once a ghost and shell of a man—was standing there in your bedroom, humming a soft forties tune under his breath as he rocked his miracle baby girl.

-end

my other dad bucky fics here! enjoyyy and more to come!

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

[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.”

[lymmsweb]

Giving you all my love

🕷pairing : bucky barnes x gn!reader

🕷word count : 1.9k

🕷tags : fluff, comfort, makeout, non sexual intimacy, showering together, pre established relationship

🕷summary : he comes home after a mission away from you that took longer than expected and seeks your comfort, which you are more than happy to give

It was far from unusual that you spent another afternoon in solitude cooking a meal that only you would eat, nonetheless it didn't provide comfort to the worry lingering in the back of your mind. It had been around 2 weeks since you've seen Bucky, a simple infiltration mission he said, it'd only take a couple days he said, it's a low risk operation he said yet here you were alone and hunched over the stove absentmindedly stirring the pot.

You knew he was probably alright, after all he is a highly trained super soldier who wouldn't go down easily without fight and had saved the world on numerous occasions. Communication had been lost between you and him 4 days ago that felt like light years away, it was like your own personal hell. The house felt empty without him, lacking the warmth that you yearned to bask in in those restless nights without his updates. Horrifying thoughts about possible scenarios he might have caught himself up in danced around your head as you moved robotically around the kitchen, there was nothing though that you could do except wait until his return.

You sat down at the dining table pecking away at the food in front of you, the chair felt like a stone slab underneath you and the program playing on the television sounded like white noise to you. Turning your head to face the window you saw clearly the trees that surrounded your house, swaying softly in the wind as the sun slowly set behind them. A little black bird landed on a branch, staying still as its feathers ruffled and seemingly stared back at you. A soft smile tugged at your lips at the thought of it staring at its reflection in the window as if it were checking itself out in a mirror.

"Started without me?" a quiet voice teased as it broke your concentration, you had no time to think before your body involuntarily jolted from the rough and shaky hands wrapping themselves around your shoulders and pulling you close into an embrace. It scared you momentarily as you hadn't heard the door open nor his footsteps but that is what you've learned to accept when dating a highly skilled assassin. The smell of sweat and musk hit your nose as you felt a warm toned body press itself onto your back and the arms around your shoulders tightened, a shaky exhale escaped your lips as you turned to look at your assailant.

Your gaze met his, his pupils so dilated there was only a small blue ring encapsulating them. The bags under his eyes were noticeable, the stress tugging at his face causing small and delicate creases to indent his skin which contrasted the scratches that littered it as if he got into a fight with a cat. You had little time to memorize his face as he slumped onto you and dropped his head onto your shoulder, his dark hair tickling your neck and jaw.

"Bucky?" you choked out as you quickly pushed up against him as you stood up, his heavy frame offering some resistance to this action. The contact was broken momentarily which elicited a soft whine from him, he quickly closed the distance - unceremoniously crashing his lips against yours. He has missed your lips slightly which caused quiet snickers to erupt both of you as he glided his cracked lips against yours. He tilted his head and pushed into you harshly when you opened your mouth slightly to give him better access to you, ravenously exploring your mouth as if it had never been ventured on before. He tasted slightly metallic against your tounge which was weakly fighting back a losing battle against his passionate assault. Bucky's metal arm snaked around your torso and rested his hand on the back of you head and his fingers latched onto your hair as if it were his lifeline, the other arm wrapping itself around you waist and pulling your bodies flush together. In contrast your hands cradled his jaw and rubbed small circles on his cheekbone with your thumb, allowing him to take the lead.

This moment seemed to have lasted forever as it finally took a few minutes to come back to the surface for air, the room seemed to be on fire from the heat emitted between you two. A few inches separated your now swollen lips, his breath smelling vaguely like a strawberry mint whilst he panted for air.

"I missed you so much doll." he hummed quietly against your lips, trying to initiate things further as he peppered more kisses on you. You beamed him a smile as you tilted your head away, increasing the distance between your faces which caused him to reflect back a puzzled look with a slight frown.

"I missed you too baby, what on earth took you so long?" you questioned, the worry hadn't dissipated from your mind as the more you studied his face the evidence of pain inflicted became apparent in the form of bloomed bruises littering his face alongside angry red scratches that clearly became irritated as a result of the intimacy you both indulged in. A low groan replied as he scrunched his face in frustration at the thought of the situation that kept him from you.

"It ended up... we had complications that we..." he trailed off, slowly losing himself in thought. Patience was the key factor the relationship between you two had been as successful as it has been, you didn't pressure him to explain as truth be told all that mattered was that he was back in your arms. Bucky usually came back from missions close to exhausted, not physically but more mentally thanks to the serum running through his veins. Going on missions was all that he knew for the last couple decades which you could only imagine the impact that such a thing would have on someone.

"How about we get you clean? I bet you haven't showered in a while you sick freak." you teased as your hands slid down his toned arms and pried his hands off your body. He rolled his eyes at the faux insult though he became painfully aware of his current physical state. "Only if you join me" he shot back with a fatigued tone, intertwining his hand with yours as you began to lead him to the shared bathroom. He had no concept of personal space as he was almost so close to you he was basically draped on top of you, not that you minded though you could hear him hitting the corners of furniture behind you which would make a normal person wince.

The bathroom was relatively spacious though standard, Bucky didn't have many facial nor body products so your products ended up taking up a lot of the space. When you two had first moved in together you remember the heart attack he almost induced when he revealed he used a 3 in 1 shampoo that also worked as a face wash, needless to say you heavily improved the quality of his self care. A comfortable silence rested between you two. Bucky let go of you hand begrudgingly as he began to undo his tactical gear meanwhile you leaned over to the shower and turned it on, allowing for the water to heat up whilst you two stripped.

"Come here," you motioned him to close the gap which he happily complied to, he had taken off his slim bullet proof vest and his boots already which made you job easier "can i take these off?" you questioned as you softly poked at his top.

"Jesus aren't you forward." he mused as he gazed at your face, squinting slightly "not a lot of guys like that."

You scoffed at the comment and began to pry the shirt off of him which was basically muscle memory by now, it clung onto him slightly due to a thin layer of sweat on him. The shirt was quickly discarded to a corner of the bathroom haphazardly. His torso looked like a warzone, it seemed like there were more blotches of purple and green rather than untainted skin. Absentmindedly you began to trace healed scars that were inflicted upon him whilst he was the Winter Soldier, carefully feathering over the bruises. He noted the concern and sadness contorting your face and raised his hand to caress your cheek, shame washing over him when your glassy eyes looked right back at him. Your eyes then flickered to the huge and jagged scar that rested on the skin where the junction of metal and flesh met, it kind of looked like lightning you noted mentally. He hummed when your lips places small kisses along that scar, you never once judged him for what he underwent despite his constant struggle with accepting who he had been. Your fingers fiddled with his belt, successfully unbuckling it after what you deemed to be an embarrassing amount of time. Prying off his jeans his legs seemed to be in a much better condition than his torso, rather having very small bruises peppered along it.

"You too doll, i did say you were going to join me." he blushed, snapping you out of your thoughts. You felt a warmth rise to your cheeks whilst you separated from him and began to discarded your clothes swiftly. He took in your figure as each layer was stripped off like an artist studying his muse, yet there was not an ounce of lust clouding his eyes - just pure love. Quite frankly he could probably paint you off by heart due to the amount of time he spent studying every curve and crevice of your body. Once you stripped the cold air rushing in from the window was noticeable and uncomfortable, you reached into the shower and sighed as the warm water hit your hand. You hopped in lightly, quickly followed by Bucky that had stripped down to nothing as well. He moaned as the water hit is back, it felt heavenly to his overworked muscles and to finally get the grime off of him.

You got to work quickly, maneuvering him around the shower that was a little too small for the both of you and used his brand new scented shampoo on his hair. He tilted his head in order to not only lean into the physical contact he'd been craving but also to allow you better access for you fingers to work away the blood and oil stuck to his hair. The shampoo foamed up comically giving him a makeshift helmet before you rinsed it away. You gently rubbed the body wash on him, whispering soft apologies each time he tensed underneath your touch, which were quickly shut down by him. However you took the opportunity to also massage his stiff muscles where you could to bring him any sort of relief. Time seemed to pass by as you worked your way down his body and soon turned him around to face you, working away similarly along his front. Bucky sort of looked like a horse sleeping, his arms laying limply on his side, he stood still like a soldier, blinking groggily and even 'resting his eyes' for long minutes at a time. It left you pondering how amusing it was to have the once most feared and deadly myth completely vulnerable underneath your touch as you took care of him.

A/N : this is my very first work after a two year haitus so i'm sorry if its kinda bad!! ugh my obsession with him has been driving me so crazy that i just had to start writing again