A Year Gone By | dark!Bucky Barnes x reader
happy birthday @nsfwsebbie!!
it was supposed to be a surprise but then I couldn’t stop myself from telling you I was writing something, I managed to keep most of it under wraps though! I hope the suspense pays off.
idk if it’s weird that i made it a doctor reader when you’re not a doctor but listen...half the fun of reader insert is getting to vicariously live through a cool career right?? the other half of the fun is the obvious thing. and it seemed a little creepy if i made the reader exactly like you but if you want it to be more accurate i will totally write you something with actual you in it lol
ANYWAYS I hope you enjoy it and most of all I hope you have a lovely, relaxing, fun birthday. and i hope it makes you h word lmao. ily darling <3
warnings: noncon, dubcon, stalking/kidnapping, ddlg, loss of virginity, bondage, oral sex (m and f receiving), anal sex, d/s, pet play, degradation, painful sex/pain kink, cockwarming, breeding, somnophilia (slightly), spitting, pregnancy mention, breeding kink, mention of drugging... I think that’s everything.
word count: just over 15.5k (YIIIIKES my bad)
Bucky always looked forward to appointments with you. It wasn’t just because he had a crush on you, honest; you really were the best doctor he ever had. Then again, between chain-smoking Brooklyn doctors who handed out morphine like candy and cruel Nazi or Soviet scientists, you weren’t competing with anybody too incredible.
“It’s not so bad,” he bluffed, but he couldn’t hide the wince when you touched his bruise.
“You’re not a very good liar, Sergeant,” you told him with a smile. God, he loved when you called him that. He hoped his body wouldn’t react to it in any uncomfortably obvious ways. “Honestly, I’m a little worried about the bones. I want to do an X-ray, if you don’t mind.”
“Go ahead,” he shrugged, “but you’re probably worrying too much.”
“You plan to walk off a compound fracture?” you scoffed.
“Bet I could, if you kiss it to make it better,” he smiled. He was expecting you to giggle a little at the casual flirtation, which you did, but he was surprised when you bit your lip at the end of it. That made it impossible to stop his cock from getting a bit interested, but thankfully it was still easy enough to hide. Clearly his casual flirting was starting to get to you, and it made him especially impatient but he tried to stay calm.
“I’m a good doctor, but I’m not that good. A prescription will do more for you,” you replied as you wrote something in his chart-- presumably that he needed to go down the hall for some x-ray work.
“If you say so.”
“Anything else bothering you?” you asked him.
“Oh, no, I won’t waste your time,” he dismissed.
“I’m getting paid, don’t worry,” you laughed. “I don’t have any more appointments until after lunch. Is there anything else going on?”
He shifted a little, the paper on the examination table crinkling as he did it. “Um… it’s nothing, I just--” he glanced up at you but then looked away again, still embarrassed to admit it-- “I’ve had a little trouble sleeping…”
“Nightmares?” you pressed. “Or general insomnia?”
“Um, nightmares,” he finally admitted, “not as bad as normal. The meds helped. Just… I still get them sometimes.”
“How many nights a week would you guess?” you asked. But you didn’t look to his chart like it was a quiz or something, you kept looking at him with patience and compassion. That was what really made his heart melt.
“Probably 2 or 3.”
“So we’re down from 6 to 7,” you remembered from what he’d said before you’d given him the medication he was on now, “that’s good. That’s progress. But, maybe we need to up your dosage if you haven’t seen better results after 4 weeks. You haven’t missed any doses, have you?”
He tried to fight his embarrassed smirk but it was too late.
“Bucky!” you scolded playfully. “I can’t up your dosage until you’re actually being consistent on the amount you already have, okay? I know it can be easy to forget but you have to stay on it. Set a timer on your phone or something if you need to.”
He nodded, but the problem wasn’t forgetting to take them as much as it was being ashamed that he needed them at all. But he’d stay on them if it made you happy.
“Anything else? Headache, twisted ankle, burns when you pee?”
He laughed and shook his head. “No, I think that’s everything.”
“Great, then I’ll let you get to your newly-booked X-ray appointment.” You handed him a sheet of paper for him to take to the X-ray office which informed the nurses there what angles you wanted on his ribs. “Just know that you can call me if you need anything, alright?”
He took the slip of paper but suddenly couldn’t respond, too lost in looking at you and wondering if you’d felt that same jolt of electricity when his hand brushed yours.
“What are you looking at me like that for?” you asked, breaking the silence.
“You take care of so many people,” Bucky pondered aloud, “I just wonder if someone takes care of you.”
He could tell by your face that you didn’t like the way his tone shifted, but he refused to backpedal. Just this once, he wanted to see you squirm a little bit.
“Wanna lollipop?” you asked him nervously as you handed him the plastic-wrapped red sucker in offering, but he waved it away.
He spent the rest of the afternoon thinking about how you would look with the cherry lollipop in your mouth: the way it would push your cheek out from the inside, stain your lips and tongue bright red, make your mouth taste like pure sugar.
Of all the things he’d imagined before, that was the one that made him realize it couldn’t just be a fantasy anymore. Thankfully, he hadn’t just been thinking of all the filthy things he wanted to do to you; he’d also been coming up with a plan.
~
The first thing you perceived when you woke up was the smell. It didn’t smell like your room. Such a simple difference, one you hadn’t even realized you would notice, but one that stood out instantly.
You opened your eyes and instantly spun your head around when you saw the grey cement room you were in. The bed underneath you creaked, unlike your bed, and you looked down at it as if you somehow expected to be in an unknown room but still be in your own bed.
It was then that you realized you were restrained with, of all things, satiny pink rope which pulled each of your limbs to the nearest bedpost. There was enough slack that you could wiggle around some, but it wasn’t exactly roomy either. Your heart raced as you pondered who could have possibly done this, and why.
You startled when you heard the door open, but relaxed when the menacing form suddenly struck you as familiar.
“Bucky,” you sighed with relief, “oh thank god you’re here-- quick, help untie me.”
As soon as you said it, though, you realized something wasn’t right. He didn’t look concerned at all, or confused. And that should be a good thing because it meant he had answers, except that you were suddenly realizing this was more complex than you were prepared for.
“Bucky… where are we?” you asked him, quieter, as you realized that he was not going to untie you immediately. Even still you were coming to terms with the possibility that it wasn’t really a matter of where we were and where, specifically, you were.
“Somewhere safe,” he answered simply, stepping closer.
You didn’t exactly believe that.
“Please, help untie me,” you requested again.
“I will,” he assured, “but I want to explain something first.”
Your heart sank straight through your stomach. You didn’t understand what was going on quite yet, but you were getting the gist enough to know that this was really fucking bad.
“Bucky,” you pleaded as he sat down beside you on the bed, “please let me go.” You felt very aware of how thin your pajama set was, how if he tried hard enough he could see your nipples hardening underneath your top for no apparent reason.
“Don’t get upset,” he soothed, “everything’s fine. I’m not going to hurt you-- nobody will anymore. You’re gonna stay here, with me, and I’m gonna take care of you.”
Your eyes burned with tears you couldn’t fight anymore. “Don’t do this,” you begged, “I’m your friend-- we’re friends, remember?”
“Of course I know that,” he sighed, “but that’s not enough. Couldn’t you tell I’d fallen in love with you?”
You shook your head, trying to process everything you were hearing. “This is insane. This is not what you do when you have feelings for somebody, Bucky.”
“What, you’re saying I should’ve just asked you out?”
“Well, I wouldn’t have been able to say yes-- because you’re my patient--”
“See? That’s what the ropes are for!” he smiled, like he was actually proud of his problem-solving skills. “You would’ve said yes if you could, I know. But you couldn’t. And now you don’t have to.”
You resented that he was right, that you would’ve dated him in a heartbeat if it wasn’t an ethical violation. You got the sense there were going to be even more severe ethical violations in your future, though.
You continued to beg him to stop, but it fell on deaf ears as he reached under the elastic waistband of your pajama shorts and pulled them down slowly. He gasped when he saw your pussy and you wished you could just disappear, turn invisible or, best of all, teleport out of here; anything to avoid this humiliation.
“Baby, you’re wet,” he observed. You weren’t sure if the first or second half of the sentence made you more uncomfortable, but either way, you couldn’t stop the shivers from dancing up your spine. “This all for me? Do you like being tied up?”
You refused to answer, looking to the side as if the concrete wall was suddenly fascinating to you, but he grabbed your jaw and turned you to look at him.
“I know you don’t know all the rules yet, but here’s the first one, and maybe the most important: answer me when I speak to you.”
It was cold but not quite threatening; still scared you senseless, though. You nodded.
“Do you like being tied up?” he repeated.
“N-no,” you answered.
“Answer honestly,” he specified.
You had, but you realized it was going to be safer to do what he wanted, so you cleared your throat and spoke again.
“Yes,” you whispered, “I like… being tied up.”
“That’s it?” he pressed. “It’s not me being here, is it? You never got wet when you saw me in appointments?”
This was going to be a lot harder than you anticipated. It seemed like there was no right answer.
“Didja ever get wet for somebody else? It was Steve, wasn’t it?”
“No!” you instinctively answered. “Um, I like Steve. But just as a friend.”
“Aw,” he smiled, “I knew you were the loyal type. Remember just a minute ago when you were begging me to stop cause you were my friend? I think you were lying then too, doll. You didn’t want to be just friends with me.”
“Whatever you’re going to do, just do it,” you grimaced. “I’m getting irritated.”
You yelped when he slapped the inside of your thigh, trying to pull away but only making it easier for him to dip under your leg so that he was between them, sitting back on the bed in front of you.
“Respect gets you a long way with me,” he promised, pulling a knife from a strap on his thigh and using it to quickly cut off the shorts. “Sass does not.”
You winced as he slipped a finger into you-- metal, and it was cold, too. Soothed the burn a bit, at least.
“Oh god,” he sighed, “just one finger and it barely fits…” You watched realization pass over his face as his gaze moved to your eyes. “Baby, are you a virgin?”
You closed your eyes because you knew they would reveal the truth. In all honesty it was probably better that he knew so there was at least some chance of him going easy on you, and yet you were still embarrassed for him to find out.
“Oh, you’re going to spoil me,” he grinned. “You really are too good to be true.”
A second finger pushed into you and a bite to the lip suppressed your moan.
“I’ll warm you up first, don’t worry,” he cooed. “I don’t wanna hurt you.”
“Then why did you tie me up?”
“That’s for your safety, baby. I don’t wanna have to hurt you,” he clarified.
A third finger, immediately after you had adjusted to the second. You had never had so much inside you before and it made you feel a bit dizzy. His thumb grazed over your clit and you nearly jumped right off the bed as your hips bucked suddenly-- since when were you so sensitive?!
“Oh, poor little baby, you need it so bad,” he faux-pouted. You couldn’t tell if it was a mockery or genuine concern. “You’ll get it angel, don’t worry. Daddy’s gonna take care of you.”
That word made you feel a little sick. No wonder he needed to kidnap girls to get his rocks off, clearly this was the kind of stuff a normal date wouldn’t agree to.
Then again, it was Bucky Barnes. He could probably get any girl he wanted, even if he had some weird tastes. You still didn’t understand why it had to be you, specifically.
His thumb stayed on your clit, the pressure moving from teasing to firm to nearly too much. You tried to angle your hips away but the ropes stopped you (of course), and you were forced to take every sensation he gave you.
“You’re trying so hard to stay quiet, just let go,” he encouraged. “I wanna hear how good I make you feel.”
“Maybe I’m just naturally quiet,” you bluffed, but even just those few words were strained, and surrounded by panting as you failed to catch your breath.
“Oh, we both know that’s not true. I’ve heard you when you thought you were alone, doll.”
You knew what he must have meant, but it still made you whimper when he leaned in to whisper in your ear: “I heard you touching yourself.”
Your face was burning and you were sure you’d never blushed so hard in your life. You couldn’t be sure how much he’d heard, but just the way he smiled down at you made you sure he must have heard the times that his name passed your lips as you reached your peak.
Of course he couldn’t just let you stew in that, he had to mock you even further.
“Oh Bucky,” he recalled, raising the pitch of his voice a little, “please let me come, I’m so close, please…”
“Stop,” you begged, tears sliding down your temples. The fingers twisted inside you as both of you groaned.
“Yeah, it’s not a very good impression,” he sighed, “it’ll sound better when you do it. Don’t you wanna moan for me again?”
“You stalked me,” you realized aloud, “you spied on me at night, you kidnapped me--”
“And now we’re both getting what we want. I know you wished it was my fingers instead of yours. Doesn’t it feel good baby? Admit it. Tell me it feels good.”
You were determined to resist until he pulled his fingers out and used the metal hand to slap your pussy, both of you gasping at the wet noise it made. He did it again and your hips bucked wildly even as you were trying with everything in you not to react. One more and you finally moaned, the pain brief but strong while the pleasure never seemed to lessen.
“Just be honest,” he demanded, “I know you love it. I just need you to say it.”
One more spank and you were finally willing to cut your losses. “It feels good!” you exclaimed. You cried out when he hit you again, not having seen it coming at all since you’d done as he asked. “Say it again.”
“It feels good, Bucky, your fingers feel good,” you whimpered.
He finally seemed to calm down, giving you an oddly friendly smile. “Was that so hard?”
You shook your head, just trying to appreciate the stillness while you could.
“One little thing though: you don’t call me Bucky anymore. My friends call me Bucky; you’re so much more special than that. You’re my perfect little angel, and you call me Daddy.”
You saw it coming, but it didn’t make it any less awful. You squirmed a bit as he pushed up your top, biting his lip when he got a glimpse of your breasts.
“Oh, when did these get hard, huh?” he smiled as he tweaked your nipples between his fingers.
“It’s… cold in here,” you explained uncomfortably.
“Uh huh,” he pretended to believe you. “Don’t worry, we’ll find a way to warm you up.”
He let go of your tits so he could pull back and start undoing his belt; you swallowed dryly, not wanting to watch but unable to look away.
Of course he was big. It explained his personality, and you’d had your suspicions (and/or fantasies), but now all it did was scare you.
“Will it hurt?” you asked weakly. He smiled as he pulled off his shirt from behind his neck, tossing it aside.
“No baby, I stretched you with my fingers so you can take me. Might be a little bit of an adjustment at first, but we’ll go slow, okay?”
You couldn’t decide if it was sweet or patronizing. A little of both, perhaps.
He leaned over you, resting one hand beside your head as the other guided his cock to rub through your folds. You struggled again, barely able to process that this was actually going to happen, that you were going to lose your virginity tied up in some creepy sex dungeon to an obsessive patient who demanded you call him ‘Daddy.’ This wasn’t exactly the situation you had been saving it for.
“Ready for me, baby? Want me to make you mine?” he asked with a look of excitement, even vulnerability. Your body craved more after he’d left you dangling on the edge from his fingering, but your brain was thankfully still functioning properly.
“Please don’t,” you whimpered, “you can stop now, and I won’t tell anyone, and--”
“Baby, don’t talk like that,” he frowned. “This is it, okay? Us. Just us. Nobody else to get in the way. You’re not gonna tell anyone ‘cause there’s no one to tell.”
“You can’t,” you denied, “I have a life-- people who care about me, who are going to notice that I’m gone--”
“No, babygirl, stop-- you’re not listening to me,” he growled. “Stop fighting. You’re mine. You’re finally where you belong.”
“This is crazy,” you spat, “you’re crazy!”
“Baby…” he looked dejected, crestfallen. “You’re the only one who’s ever helped me feel normal again. If I’m crazy it’s only because I love you so much; I need you, doll.”
“You need intensive psychiatric care!”
Sadness shifted to anger as he sat back and stuffed his cock back into his trousers, even though it barely fit now that it was fully hard and leaking from the tip.
“I realize now I’ve given you more than you can handle. I knew you liked me back so I figured you would understand a little sooner but… I should’ve known you need more time before you really admit to yourself that you need someone to take care of you.”
Your relief shifted to fear when he stood back up off the bed and stepped away.
“Wait, don’t leave me here,” you squeaked, “untie me, please.”
Instead he knelt down and pulled a box out from under the bed. You couldn’t see what was inside when he opened it, but he seemed to find what he was looking for when he pulled out a vibrator and shut the lid. It was thin and a little curved, so when he roughly shoved it into you it hit right on your g-spot. You tried to squirm away but he held your hips down and turned it on to a setting that strobed the vibrations, teasing your spot but never giving you enough to get very far.
“I’ll come back when I think you’ve learned your lesson,” he informed you quickly as he started to leave the room.
“Bucky-- Bucky wait!” you called after him. “There’s no food or water you can’t leave me here wait don’t go BUCKY!”
But he was long gone. The door slammed behind him and echoed around the room; only when the sound was completely dead were you sure that he wasn’t coming back any time soon.
You had no way of knowing how much time had passed, but it felt like an eternity of you wiggling against the ropes, trying to either knock the vibrator out of you somehow or get it to move enough that you could at least come and feel some relief. Trying to push it out with your muscles was useless since the curved shape kept it inside of you, and you couldn’t arch your back enough to press it into the bed-- and if you could, you weren’t sure what good that would do.
Every once in a while the vibration would echo through your clit and it made your eyes water. You sobbed and bit your lip, hoping he would come back soon.
It was at least twice as long before he did, and at that point your voice had gone hoarse from calling out to him. You cried out for Bucky at least a hundred times and got nothing; but when you called for ‘Daddy’ just once, he suddenly appeared.
Somehow his return didn’t bring much relief, because you weren’t exactly safe with him around… but at least you weren’t alone.
He reached between your legs and turned the vibrator off, though he left it inside of you. You took a deep breath and appreciated the stillness, though your body panged with hunger from so much pleasure with no release.
“I hated doing that to you,” he breathed deeply as he sat beside you on the bed, “but it had to be done. You were behaving so poorly. I’ve gone easy on you up until now but I can’t tolerate any more rebelliousness, alright?”
You nodded slowly, feeling the weight of his disappointment sink over you.
When he pulled out the vibrator, the tip of it grazed over your abused and sensitive g-spot and you bit back a groan. He set it aside and admired the mess you’d made; you couldn’t see it, of course, but you could tell that there was a wet patch of arousal beneath you on the sheets.
“Your body is ready for me, but I’m not sure your mind is right yet,” he explained, steely gaze finally meeting yours. “Are you going to be good, little girl?”
You were too exhausted to notice the nickname, or even to speak your reply. You just nodded again, watching him as he started unlacing his boots and slipped them off, then took his socks, trousers, and underwear off along with them.
Shit, you’d nearly forgotten how big he was. You swallowed with a dry throat and closed your eyes, just hoping it would be over with quickly.
“Open your eyes babygirl, I wanna look at you,” he murmured, running a finger across your cheek. You reluctantly obeyed and saw him hovering above you. He pressed a gentle kiss to your lips and it felt so wrong, so empty and peculiar. It was a weak facsimile of what a kiss was supposed to be like. He closed his eyes and ran his fingers into your hair, and it had all the trappings of the kind of kiss you’d share as a goodbye after a first or second date, but without any of the stuff that mattered like positive feelings or consent or not being in a creepy cement sex dungeon-- or whatever this was supposed to be.
He pulled away and looked down at you again, anger just starting to brew in his eyes. “Kiss me back,” he demanded. This time when he pressed his lips to yours, his tongue slid between them and it made you feel a little sick but you did your best to reciprocate. You found yourself trying to reach up to put your hands on his hair or neck but of course, the ropes made it impossible.
You felt his cock pressing between your thighs, rubbing up and down slowly, and your heart began to race. One hand slid between your bodies to guide his cock towards your entrance and he said something but you couldn’t hear it because your ears were ringing.
As soon as he pushed into you, your body jolted, trying to squirm away, but he just kept going, sliding into you in one long stroke.
Physically, it wasn’t painful. The vibrator had helped relax your walls, even numbed them a little bit. And yet, even without pain it was so much. You felt like the wind had been knocked out of you, like you were so full you couldn’t even breathe.
When he was fully seated inside you, Bucky moaned deeply, kissing your neck and mumbling something about how perfect you were. But all you could focus on was his cock pulling back only to slam home again.
“Fuck!” you yelped. You had no idea anything could be so deep inside you.
“Watch your language, angel,” he purred, biting at your earlobe. “You promised to be good, remember?”
The hand that had been gripping your thigh suddenly moved to rub your clit and you choked on a moan.
“It’s okay, it’s supposed to feel good,” he encouraged. “It’s okay to come, baby. I know how bad you wanna come for me.”
You were embarrassingly close as he had observed, a side effect of having been left on the edge for so long. You could feel your walls rippling around him, and you wondered if he could feel it, too. Every thrust stroked parts of you that you hadn’t even realized existed, and when he pushed as deep as he could into you, the tip of his cock hit something so sensitive that you genuinely couldn’t tell if it was painful or pleasurable.
“Are you close? I don’t know how much longer I can last, you’re so tight,” he groaned. “Fuck, you want me to fill you up don’t you? Wanna be full of Daddy’s cum?”
Before you could even consider ignoring his question, he wrapped his left hand around your neck.
“Yes, Daddy,” you croaked through the weight on your windpipe, “fill me up, please.”
Talking like that made your heart twist with shame but somehow pushed you even closer to your peak. You knew he could tell that you were turned on by it from the way your muscles tightened around him.
“I will baby, I promise,” he smiled. “Do you wanna beg to come, like you did when you were by yourself?”
You moaned because it was like a fantasy come true, in a monkey’s paw sort of way. This is what you had wanted, right? Just… in a way completely different from how it was turning out?
“Daddy, please,” you answered, so quiet and heavy with embarrassment that it was barely above a whisper, “please let me come.”
“Oh fuck,” he responded hoarsely as his thrusts came faster, more ragged. “Come, princess. I wantcha to scream for me.”
As you started to fall over the edge, you felt like you had lost control over your body; your arms and legs tugged at the ropes as jolts of pleasure coursed through them, and your mouth was spilling moans and whimpers and even his name. His real name, specifically, though he thankfully didn’t seem to mind. He kissed you again as he came, moaning into your lips and still inside you.
You felt cold and sticky and humiliated as he sat up and pulled out, admiring the way your hole leaked out his seed and flexed involuntarily around nothing.
“Oh look at you,” he praised, “my perfect little girl. You’re even more amazing than I dreamed, doll.”
You tried not to listen or watch him as he got off the bed, coming back with boxers on and a damp washcloth to clean you.
“I’m gonna untie you now, okay? Promise you won’t kick me or anything?”
You quickly nodded, willing to promise anything if it meant getting untied.
“You’ll just do more harm to you than to me if you try anything, angel,” he reminded you quickly as he started work on your right ankle. The ropes were silky so they hadn’t been rubbing your skin too raw, but there was still soreness from the tight knots. You were a bit surprised when he gave your ankle and foot a brief massage once he was done untying the rope, and did the same to your other foot, and then your wrists and hands. It helped a lot with getting the blood flow back to normal, and you almost considered thanking him but that would’ve been ridiculous. ‘Hey, thanks for the foot massage, next time don’t tie me up and rape me first but, otherwise 10/10.’
~
Bucky was so impressed with the progress you’d made in a week. Only two escape attempts and you’d taken your punishment quite well both times. He had expected a rocky start, he’d understood what he was getting himself into, so none of it really came as a surprise. You’d managed to get a good crack at his nose once, kicking him straight between the eyes before making a run for it. Yes, it hurt like a bitch and took a few days to heal, but it had actually been a blessing in disguise; that day you’d made it out the front door and realized that you were in the middle of nowhere. When he’d caught up to you, you were standing barefoot and half-naked in the snow, not even running anymore because, apparently, you’d realized there was nowhere to run to.
“I built this place for us, for you,” he explained. “Somewhere far away, all to ourselves. Nobody for miles.”
“How many miles?”
He chuckled a bit to himself. “Baby, it’s a really big number. You’re too little to understand.”
Normally you resisted that sort of talk but this time it shut you up. Hopefully you were beginning to properly realize that this was your new life.
“Are we in New York?” you asked, quieter.
“I’m not sure if I should tell you that yet. I don’t want you to get any complicated ideas in that pretty little head,” he cooed, kissing your forehead for emphasis before leaving you behind to start cooking dinner.
“I’m not eating with these,” you announced firmly as he set your place at the table with a set of pink, rubber-coated utensils.
“It’s too messy to eat with your hands,” he frowned.
“Do you honestly not realize that I want to eat with normal utensils? Or are you just trying to drive me insane?”
Bucky set your plate down a little too firmly, making you and the food on top jump. “Don’t talk back to me.”
“I just… it’ll take me forever to finish an adult-sized portion of food with child-sized utensils.”
“Then maybe you’re not ready for an adult-sized portion,” he threatened. That seemed to get your attention, but you stayed quiet. “Maybe you’re not hungry at all?”
“I’m hungry,” you denied. “Please, I want to eat.”
“And I want to eat with you. But this roundabout is getting on my last nerve, doll. Now are you gonna be good and eat your dinner?”
“...yes, Daddy,” you sighed. He smiled and sat down across from you. You were learning. Slowly, but surely.
Bath time was always a fight, though. You still had some ridiculous notions about ‘privacy’ and ‘autonomy’ and crap like that, and it meant that you were likely to act up and refuse to be washed.
“I can do it myself!”
“But you don’t have to, don’t you see?”
“I want to.”
“The world doesn’t revolve around what you want, angel.”
“Let me guess: it revolves around what you want?”
“No,” Bucky shook his head and tried to summon some more patience, “I have to take care of you. Sometimes that means doing things you don’t like, because I know what’s best for you.”
“I hate you,” you mumbled as you turned away, and that really broke his heart. He knew you didn’t really mean it, but it still hurt.
“Baby… don’t say that,” he pleaded as he turned your face to him. “It hurts Daddy’s feelings when you say things like that.”
“Yes, that was the idea,” you hissed. “I just want to take a shower, alone.”
“Any chance you had at that is long gone,” he grimaced. “What you’re getting is a bath, with me, and if you quit this attitude now you might still be able to avoid getting a spanking as well, do you understand?”
Your shoulders slumped as you nodded. He knew your poor little bottom was still sore from the last spanking, and as he helped you undress for the bath, he could still see a few welts along the skin. He kissed them quickly, a reminder to both of you what he was capable of, before helping you into the water and slipping in behind you. It was spacious, so there was ample room for the two of you, but he still held you close and pressed your back into his chest.
He had a lot of ideas about what you two could do in this bath, but he knew that now was not the time. Still, he let his mind wander and smiled to himself when you gasped from his erection pressing into your thigh.
He helped you wash your hair, and for that moment where your head was nearly submerged and he was using his fingers to massage out the shampoo, you looked so peaceful. He normally only got to appreciate this look on your face as you slept, but you were almost smiling this time, and it made his heart sing. A week of tantrums was worth it for just a few quiet moments like this.
“I’m gonna let you finish up on your own, okay? I trust you not to do anything dangerous…” he decided as he stepped out.
“Really?” your face instantly lit up. Sure, you’re never supposed to leave them alone in the bath, but he was feeling extra generous and he sympathized with your desire for control. Freedom could be good for you, in moderation.
“Of course.”
“T-thank you, Daddy,” you awkwardly responded.
He dried off and dressed, and waited nearby in the living room, listening to you drain the bathwater and start a shower.
You emerged wrapped in a towel and looking slightly lost.
"Honey, where are your clothes?" he asked you with a furrowed brow.
“I don’t have anything to wear,” you informed him. Oh, right. You were being resistant to wearing the clothes he had picked out for you. Apparently you found the overwhelming presence of baby pink to be tacky, and you hated that everything was cute and tiny… he couldn't understand seeing something cute and tiny and not liking it. After all, you were the most adorable thing he'd laid eyes on and it made it impossible not to like you. You just needed clothes to match.
“I have clothes laid out for you,” he explained.
“I’d rather be naked than wear what you pick for me,” you snarled.
“Hey, I wouldn’t complain,” he shrugged, trying to suppress his frustration. “Don’t come bitchin’ to me when you’re cold, though.”
You sat next to him on the couch, defiantly naked and confidently ignoring him. He admired your stubbornness, or at least he found it amusing.
“Do you wanna watch a movie now?” he asked, but he knew you had figured out that this was a mandatory activity.
“Don’t see any reason to wait,” you smiled sarcastically.
Of course, when he got up to show you some DVDs so you could pick what you wanted (Wall-E; he knew you didn’t actually want to watch that since your typical fare was horror and action movies, but it was your favorite of the options), he quickly turned down the thermostat. Perhaps a comfortable 55 Fahrenheit would help you remember why it’s important to take what Daddy gives you.
He hadn’t seen Wall-E before but he found it oddly relatable. A robot, built for someone else’s purpose, abandoned in a filthy, empty world… it brought back some old feelings that he managed to press back down.
Regardless, he was distracted from it when he could literally feel you shivering from across the couch.
“Are you cold, darling?” he asked presumptuously.
“No,” you denied, barely managing to suppress the chattering of your teeth.
“Do you want the clothes?”
“Shut up.”
He just laughed a little to himself, ignoring your rude language and turning back to the TV.
It did kill him a bit to have to pretend he didn’t care when you were obviously uncomfortable, but you would’ve been even more irritated with him if he’d held you down and forced you to put the outfit on.
~
This fucker was smart, you’d give him that. Or maybe it was just that you were stupid. Not stupid, really, but having no sense of self-preservation. Why had you chosen this hill to die on? You couldn’t even remember why you’d put up a fight at all. You were so cold that you couldn’t even understand what could’ve ever compelled you to reject an offer of clothes. Didn’t help that you knew he was so close, that if you cuddled up to him you would be warm, but that it would mean the loss of your last shred of dignity.
Only a week and you were starting to completely lose your sense of yourself. You searched within and couldn’t find any of the fight you’d had so many times before. You remembered that time you kicked him right in the face, and where you once found pride at the memory, you found guilt. You felt guilty for hurting him, after everything he’d done to you-- why?
“B-bucky…” you finally relented not even an hour into the movie, stammering from the force of your shivers.
“Hm?”
“I want… I want the c-clothes.”
He smiled a little, in an insulting way. “Ask nicely, doll.”
“P-please, Daddy,” you whimpered.
He came back with the clothes in hand, but when you reached out for them, he shook his head and motioned for you to stand up. You sighed but obeyed, your entire body shaking with violent shivers as your bare feet hit the cool concrete floor.
He knelt down, holding the lace panties open for you as you shyly stepped into them. He pulled them up to your hips and let the elastic slap your skin a little as he let go, making you jump. He did the same with the fuzzy pink pyjama pants, running his hands over soft fabric for just a second as he stood up, helping you into the loose grey sweatshirt. It was the least feminine thing he’d ever let you wear, noticeably absent in anything pink or fuzzy or girly or adorned with bows. You only realized as it slipped over your head that it was his, because once you plunged into darkness inside of it, you were overwhelmed with the smell of him. You wouldn’t have known that you could recognize his smell, but now that you were in it, it was undeniable.
You were almost surprised to see him when your head popped through the neckline, somehow. It’s not as if you had forgotten he was there in the three seconds you couldn’t see him, just that he looked so different to you now. He had this stoic, nearly stern look on his face as he helped you get your hands through the sleeves, and the way he caressed your fingers as they emerged from the cotton was so upsettingly tender.
“Daddy…” you mumbled, and he looked back at your face.
“Is this better? Are you warmer?”
“My feet…” you realized, looking down at them.
“I’ll get you some socks, baby,” he nodded, dashing away for a moment. You felt colder with him gone. It couldn’t be loneliness, could it? Even knowing he’d only be gone less than a minute, you were unduly anxious for his return.
He came back and held your feet up by the ankle one at a time as he rolled pink fuzzy socks-- with lace at the ankle, of course-- over your feet. You wiggled your toes into them, finally feeling like you’d be able to get warm again.
“Let’s finish the movie, okay?” he suggested, rubbing his hands on your arms. You nodded, allowing him to guide you back to the couch and finding yourself cuddling into his side as he laid an arm over your shoulders.
You barely managed to pay attention as you felt his hand slip lower, resting on your waist. Then your hip, then your thigh.
Something about the way the lace panties rubbed against your pussy made you feel so oddly sensitive, and even the inside of his sweatshirt was just rough enough to make your nipples react every time you adjusted your position.
You figured he realized your condition pretty quickly, but he didn’t react until a moan, so quiet that you were sure he wouldn’t hear it, passed your lips.
“Everything alright, doll?” he asked, failing to hide the fact that he clearly knew the answer.
You didn’t respond, distracted by his other hand reaching over and stroking your thigh. You were caged in his embrace now, and your heart raced in a way that was oddly lacking in fear.
“Tell me what you’re feeling,” he demanded, watching your nervous reaction to his intensity.
“Daddy I… I feel tingly,” you murmured, feeling yourself blush.
“Where, baby?”
“D-down there,” you admitted as you forced your eyes shut, too embarrassed to look him in the face as you said it.
“You need Daddy’s help?”
“Please,” you whispered, hating yourself a little for needing him but too desperate to really care.
In one motion he’d already turned the TV off, pulled you onto his lap, and started kissing where the baggy neckline of the sweatshirt exposed your collarbone.
You were rubbing yourself on his thigh and you didn’t even know how to stop. It felt so good. It made your skin warm up even faster as you recovered from the cold.
He slipped his right hand into your pants as the other pulled you closer until your face was buried in his neck. If there was anything worth appreciating about Bucky, it was how good he was with his fingers. He knew your body better than you did at this point-- but then again, he had spent so much time exploring it in one week that he was probably competing with you already in terms of practice time.
“Oh my god,” you moaned as his fingers moved faster and firmer, making your hips jerk forward unexpectedly.
“It feels good?” he asked in that way that made it obvious he knew the answer.
“Yes, Daddy, it feels so good,” you whimpered. You’d gotten pretty good by now at appeasing him by performing the role he wanted you to play… so good, in fact, that it was starting to feel very real.
Just as you were grabbing onto his shoulders to hold you steady through your orgasm, he was pulling out his hand and reaching for his own pants instead.
“Need to be inside you,” he explained quickly as he pushed them down and revealed his hard, leaking cock. “I need to be inside you when I make you come.”
He helped you slide off your pants and underwear but pulled you back into his lap the absolute second they were discarded. He slid you down onto his cock with a groan, and your face was so hot as you processed how wet you were, how easily he entered you. Your joy halted, though, when he held your hips down. You tried to wiggle around for some friction but he was so strong that it was a complete waste.
“Daddy,” you mumbled with confusion, “what are you doing?”
“You’re mine, baby, ‘m gonna use you how I please,” he reminded you darkly, “and right now I want you to stay still and wait.”
“But--”
He slapped your ass harshly, and you whimpered but decided not to put up much more of a fight.
All the while as you tried to stay still, he was kissing your neck and jaw and cheeks, murmuring praises and leaving the softest bite marks every once in a while.
“Please let me move,” you sobbed against his shoulder, having to fight everything in you not to start grinding on him like your life depended on it.
“I’m not ready yet,” he denied.
“I’ll be good, I promise,” you whimpered. “I’ll do anything. I just need to come, and I need to make you come, please…”
With a hand on either side of your hips, he started to move you on top of him, excruciatingly slow. Your head fell back from how wonderful just that felt.
“Anything? You’re gonna spoil me talking like that, doll.”
“Oh god, anything, just move a little faster, please,” you begged. Of course you knew it was a bad idea, and you figured you were going to regret saying it, but your need was surpassing your sanity at the moment.
He grabbed your face and pulled you down until your lips were almost brushing his, but not quite. “Keep riding my cock, babygirl.” You nodded, finally free to pick up the pace to where you wanted it, and you bit your lip as his cock stretched you exactly how you needed it to.
“Daddy, you feel so good inside me,” you moaned.
“I can tell,” he smiled, “you’re making those perfect noises, it’s killing me not to flip you over and fuck you so hard right now.”
You were much more inspired by that mental image than you expected to be. Those few times he’d gotten really rough with you, it had made you so wet you thought you might get dehydrated.
When he spoke again, his voice was so low that it sounded like a growl, echoing in his chest and making shivers run up your spine. “I know what I want you to do for me.”
You swallowed and braced yourself as he pulled you even closer, looking right into your eyes.
“Tell me you love me,” he demanded.
You gasped, tears starting to burn at the back of your eyes. It was the last thing you expected, but it also tracked. Of course that was what he wanted. But now that you were trying to form words and nothing would come out, you were kind of wishing he’d just said he wanted anal.
“D-daddy,” you stammered, distracted by him grabbing your hips and moving you even faster on top of him. He was practically throwing you up and down on top of him, and somehow doing it effortlessly.
“Just say it,” he whispered.
“I love you,” you whispered back. He smiled and pulled you into a deep kiss, swallowing every moan as you felt yourself barrelling towards your peak.
“Please, I’m about to come-- can I come, Daddy?”
“Almost,” he nodded, “say it again, babygirl.”
“I love you,” you panted, “Daddy, I love you, please--”
“One more time,” he grunted, watching your face.
“I love you!” you yelped, unable to hold back your orgasm any longer and feeling your walls flutter as sensation washed over you. Thankfully he wasn’t far behind, only thrusting up into you a few more times before he spilled himself with a groan.
He kissed you long and slow, staying inside you even as his cock began to soften a little. When he pulled away, he looked up at you with an expression that brimmed with restrained excitement.
“Oh, doll, you have no idea how good it is to finally hear you say that,” he beamed. “We’re gonna be so happy here together… just me and my best girl, right?”
“Right,” you smiled, but as soon as you blinked a tear was rolling down your cheek. He wiped it away with his thumb.
“Don’t cry,” he soothed, “everything’s finally the way it’s supposed to be. You’re finally where you belong, with me.”
You nodded weakly and felt whatever grip you had on your sanity loosening. Dreams of escape faded as he carried you to bed, holding you in his arms all night long. You were beginning to embrace the simplicity of just letting life happen to you. For every time you felt belittled and patronized by his coddling, there was another time that you secretly felt protected and loved. The truth was, even though you had experienced so much that you couldn’t begin to describe in the past week, you had been relieved of so much of the stress you dealt with before. As you drifted to sleep, you only hoped that you could manage to hide that truth from yourself just a little bit longer.
~
He was honestly proud of himself for managing to keep his hands off you while you slept all this time. But it wasn’t too much longer before you woke him up with your stirring. At first he was just going to give you a quick hug and then get back to sleep, but then as he pulled you closer, he realized you were dreaming. And when you moaned quietly in your sleep, he realized it wasn’t just any dream.
He smiled to himself as he kissed your neck gently, wondering if you would wake up or not. It was sort of a win-win either way for him. He let his hands slide down your body, listening to your breathing as it began to pick up. Your mouth fell open and it made your sounds even more apparent as he carefully opened your legs.
“Oh baby, you’re drenched,” he murmured to no one in particular, admiring the way your pussy glistened in the low light of the room. This was one of those times that he really appreciated his choice to make you sleep naked almost every night.
One metal finger sliding through your folds made you shiver. He wondered if it was from arousal or if the metal felt cold on your warm skin. Your clit was swollen, and apparently extra sensitive from the way your sleeping body erupted in goosebumps when he drew lazy circles around it.
Suddenly lacking in the patience more foreplay would require, he found himself shoving down his boxers and stroking his cock, preparing to push into you. If that didn’t wake you up, he’d be slightly concerned… but he wasn’t sure if he’d be concerned enough to stop fucking you. Thankfully he didn’t have to face that dilemma because the second he was pressing his head into your opening, your eyes flew open.
“Daddy!” you yelped, your voice sounding a little strange as you were torn from your sleep.
He bottomed out and groaned softly, relishing how tightly you wrapped around him. “You looked so beautiful, baby, I couldn’t help myself.”
You mewled but said nothing, only wrapping your hands around his biceps as he pulled back to thrust into you again.
“What were you dreaming about?” he asked firmly.
“N-nobody-- I mean, uh, nothing,” you stumbled over your words.
“Oh, you can’t lie to me very well can you? It’s okay doll, you can tell me, but if it’s someone other than me I’m probably gonna kill him.”
He felt you tense up a little and he knew he’d scared you. He sort of wanted to do it again, because he loved the way your cunt tightened in that moment, but he decided against it.
“Aw, I’m just joking,” he dismissed, though he wasn’t quite sure if he actually was or not. “Go ahead, tell me what you were dreaming.”
“Y-you were there,” you explained, “but it wasn’t just you.”
“Is that so?”
“Um, yeah,” you deflected nervously.
“Go ahead, spit it out,” he hissed as he started to thrust into you a bit harder.
“Well, uh, Steve was there too,” you finally admitted. A lot of emotions hit him at once when he heard you say that. Of course jealousy was prominent, but it was different than it would’ve been before... you were home now, and nobody could take you away. Both of you knew that. So it might have been a slight blow to the ego, but he didn’t see Steve as a threat. What he did see was an opportunity to make you squirm, which he was always looking for.
“Was he watching us?” Bucky pressed.
“Uh, sort of…” you trailed off.
He leaned down, putting his lips right against your ear. “Was he fucking you?”
You whimpered but he could tell you were turned on. He reached down and roughly rubbed at your clit. “Be honest, darling.”
“He wasn’t,” you explained, “you were; you said he wasn’t allowed to… but I gave him a-- a blowjob.”
As much as Bucky wasn’t exactly the sharing type, he was intrigued by the mental image of you stuffed with cock at both ends like that. Even more so he was intrigued by the fact that it apparently turned you on.
“Is that what you want, huh? One cock isn’t good enough for you? Who knew you were such a fucking slut.”
“‘M not!” you denied.
“Then why are you soaked from dreaming about choking on somebody else’s cock while I fuck you, huh?”
“I didn’t mean to!”
“And how did you feel when I told Stevie he wasn’t allowed to fuck you? Even in your sleep you know your Daddy owns you. That this is my hole and I decide everything that happens to it.”
You moaned so loud that he was afraid he would come right then and there. You sounded like heaven. He thrust into you as hard and deep as he could, slamming into your cervix and hitting your clit with his pelvis with each brutal motion. You cried out and dug your nails into his skin.
“Fuck, you like it rough don’t you? Of course you do. ‘Cause you’re Daddy’s needy little whore.”
“Yes, I’m close!” you yelped.
“Doesn’t matter, I’m not gonna let you come until you beg for it. Seems like you need to remember that I’m the only one for you.”
“Just you, Daddy, I only want you!” you reassured, but he wasn’t buying it.
“I’d die before I let you get on your knees for another man, do you believe me babygirl?”
“Yes, I know Daddy, I’m yours, there’s nobody else.”
“If you wanna come you better start askin’ really nice,” he growled.
“Please, Daddy, I want you to make me come! It feels so good, please…”
“Keep going.”
“You’re amazing, your cock feels amazing, I wanna come for you so bad--”
“Fuck, baby, beg me to use you.”
He knew you were flustered by that.
“I-- I don’t know how,” you protested.
“Oh come on, you’re dumb but you’re not that dumb,” he grinned. “Just how I said it.”
“Use me,” you murmured in defeat, “please.”
“That’s it,” he praised, “just like that-- come for me, doll.”
You were so obedient, tightening around him and nearly screaming with pleasure the moment he commanded you to. He wasn’t far behind, succumbing to the perfection of your wet heat and filling it with his climax.
“Fuck!” he groaned when he hit the peak of it, trying somehow to focus entirely on both the way you felt and the way you sounded.
Normally he cleaned you up after this but right now he wanted his come to leak out of you all night, make your thighs and the sheets sticky. Apparently you had some sort of implant or something which kept you safe… he was trying not to count the days until it wore off. He figured you would totally lose it if he told you that he wanted to get you pregnant, and yet, he was surprised that you hadn’t asked him about getting your implant replaced.
~
You knew that life was unpredictable and all that, but if never in a million years would you have expected for the Winter Soldier to be painting your nails. But there he was, focused intently on each stroke of the tiny brush as he held your hand still.
“This’ll help you stop chewing your nails,” he gave as his excuse. It was almost believable, except that he did your toes too. Amazingly enough, you’d never chewed on those.
They were actually sort of pretty, if you were being honest. You admired them a little, as they dried. It wasn’t a perfect paint job by any means, but much better than you expected from Bucky and honestly, a bit better than you would’ve done it in all likelihood. The baby pink color was a little nauseating as always, but it admittedly did look nice with your skin tone.
“What do you say?” he prompted.
“Thank you, Daddy,” you smiled. “It looks nice.”
“You’re welcome, angel. I think so too. We’ll take ‘em for a spin when they’re dry.”
You swallowed. You had a pretty good idea of what that would entail.
Next was your hair. Pigtails, the way he always did it. You never quite understood what he liked so much about turning you into a girlier, more childish version of yourself, but you were finally embracing the things that you liked about being in this role. He certainly pampered you, which was hard to complain about. In your whole time here (you struggled to keep track but it must have been over a month now) you'd never cooked once.
After lunch he had you on your knees, looking up at him while you started to unzip his fly. You found yourself salivating a little as you pulled his half-hard cock out of his boxers.
“Baby, your hands are so small…” he noticed reverently. “Barely fit around it.”
“It’s not that they’re small, it’s that you’re so big,” you replied, more honest than you were used to being with him.
“You flatter me,” he grinned. “Do it some more.”
You felt put on the spot, but feared disappointing him. “Daddy, your cock is… so big,” you improvised, still stroking him as he got harder for you, “I can’t believe it fits inside me.”
“Hmm, it almost doesn’t,” he recalled.
“But it feels so good when-- when I get used to you and, um, your cock… stretches me…”
He groaned a little, and you moved your hand faster.
“Fills me up so good, Daddy,” you moaned, getting more into it than you had intended to. “Your cock feels so fucking good, it’s like it’s made for me--”
He cut you off suddenly by pushing you back onto the mattress, hovering over you as a muscular hand wrapped around your throat.
“Got quite the mouth on ya, doll,” he growled. “Do I need to wash it out with soap?”
You shook your head; he wasn’t choking you hard enough to stop you from speaking entirely if you had really wanted to, but you were too stunned to say much. His attitude could flip on a dime like this, and you could never see it coming. The fear made your heart race; the anticipation made your thighs clench together.
He smiled as he pulled back, letting go of your neck and reaching for his cock instead. “I can tell you’re worked up. Go ahead, touch yourself.”
You hesitated because typically that would be an infraction, but he nodded for you to continue as you nervously reached between your legs.
You gasped softly when you touched your clit: it was swollen, and especially sensitive. You hadn't realized how turned on you really were. Slowly, you started to rub circles around it as your hips rocked with your movements.
"Does it feel good?" he asked, and when you looked up at him, he was stroking himself as well. You nodded quickly. "'M gonna come on that pretty face, little one. Beg me for it."
"Daddy…" you murmured in shock, "I… want you to come on my face, please. Wanna be covered in it."
"You're not a good liar," he grinned. "I know you really want me to fuck you."
He wasn't wrong, so you nodded again and watched his hand speed up as it moved up and down his length.
"You poor thing," he cooed. "I fuck you daily and you're so disappointed to be going without, to just be getting my come on your face like the dirty little whore you are."
His words stung but your hand was moving faster between your legs.
"You're getting close, aren't you? Wait until I'm ready," he ordered. You swallowed dryly but slowed down a little to buy yourself some time.
He grunted a bit and you really hoped it was signalling an orgasm because you felt yours building unstoppably. You didn't even think you could pull your hand away from yourself if he asked you to, you needed to come so bad.
"Fuck, open your mouth baby-- stick your tongue out," he commanded quickly, stepping forward until his cock was casting a shadow over your face. "Oh god, just like that… ready baby?"
You nodded one more time and heard yourself panting loudly through your open mouth, your moans only interrupted by a wince as his come spurted forward and painted your face and exposed tongue in hot stripes. Your orgasm hit just in time, embarrassingly spurred on by the degrading position you were in.
When he was done-- which seemed to take forever because he came so much-- he started to catch his breath before slipping his softening cock onto your come-coated tongue and into your waiting mouth.
"Mm, you look so good like this," he praised, "I'm not sure I wanna let you wipe it off."
A flesh thumb moved down to your cheek and rubbed a stray drop of spend into your skin.
"My perfect little cum dumpster, huh?" he said proudly, as if it was an award or achievement or something, and not a sick, insulting term.
Weird thing was, you felt proud of yourself, too.
~
He’d been working outside all day, chopping firewood in preparation for the upcoming winter. Sure, the cabin had heating, but he had a lot of ideas about cuddling in front of the fire, or maybe making love beside it.
Regardless, even super soldiers tire and must rest after working. He decided to head inside and heat up something warm to stave off the cold. You were still sleeping last he’d checked, exhausted from a long night-- yes, that kind of long night. He almost felt guilty for putting your body through so much… you were so delicate, sometimes he forgot you couldn’t always handle what he could. However, you were stronger than you realized, and such a perfectly obedient little girl; he smiled at the memory of your skin under his fingertips, your fragile form writhing and whimpering beneath him as he’d taken you for hours. As he daydreamed and began to enter the kitchen, he was torn from his imagination by a sound from your room. At first he wondered if he’d misheard it, but when he heard you cry out again, he assumed you were hurt and nearly tripped over himself to run to you. His heart was racing and he almost considered reaching for his sidearm-- there was no way someone could’ve broken in and tried to hurt you, right?
But as he flung open the door, instead he found you alone with your hand between your legs. You jumped up when you saw him, but it was too late.
“The fuck are you doing?!” he exclaimed, climbing onto the bed and trapping you before you could crawl backwards away from him.
“I-- I was just--”
He cut you off with a quick slap to the face. Not to hurt you, just to get you to focus on him.
“You know you can’t touch yourself without my permission. Did you forget?”
“No…” you murmured ashamedly.
“If you knew it was wrong, why did you do it?”
“I… I just missed you…”
“Why didn’t you call me for help? I can’t take care of you if you don’t ask.”
“I knew you were busy, I didn’t want to bother you--”
“Show me what you did,” he growled, watching you sheepishly spread your legs again to reveal your wet pussy and swollen clit. “Oh doll, you really did a number on yourself. Did you come without me?”
You looked away.
“Don’t bother lying. Did you make yourself come with your fingers?”
“Yes…”
You were hiding something. He almost didn’t want to know the entire truth because it was breaking his heart to know you’d disobeyed so severely, but he had to know what happened if he was going to discipline you properly.
“Was it more than once?”
You shook your head and his blood went cold upon the realization that you were hiding something worse.
“What were you thinking about?” he asked you slowly. He could hear your breathing quickened and he was sure he might die if you said what he was afraid of. “Answer me.”
“I was thinking about… being fucked…”
“By who?” he asked. You opened your mouth instantly but he cut you off. “Don’t lie.”
You spoke but it was so weak that it wasn’t even a whisper. “What was that?” he pressed.
“Sam,” you finally relented, “it was Sam.”
He was livid, but at least it wasn’t Steve.
“Go stand beside the bed and kneel,” he commanded firmly. You nodded weakly and slithered out from under him to do as he asked.
He took a deep, slow breath hoping to calm himself a little. He had heard that you shouldn’t punish little girls when you’re angry. But he needed to nip this in the bud.
He got off the bed and approached you after a moment, running a finger under your chin and guiding you to look up at him.
“You understand you’ve been very naughty, don’t you?” he asked with a cold fury tinting his voice.
“Yes, Daddy,” you answered. Clearly you were trying to be extra good and dutiful, hoping that strict adherence to the rules from here on out could save you some pain. You weren’t wrong, but he wished that you would’ve had that attitude a little sooner.
“And if I don’t teach you a lesson, that would be unfair to both of us.”
“Yes, Daddy.”
He sat down on the edge of the bed and opened his belt and fly, pulling out his cock. He sensed that you were compelled to lean forward and take it in your mouth, but you stayed still; you knew he would tell you exactly what he wanted you to do.
As he stroked his cock to full hardness, he glared at you so intensely that you couldn’t keep his gaze, looking up briefly but always glancing back down to the floor shamefully.
“I-I’m sorry, Da-” you began weakly.
“You’ll speak when spoken to,” he interjected harshly. Finally, he held your jaw with one hand, the other holding his cock forward as he plunged it between your lips. He moaned a little when you swirled your tongue over it, doing your best to coat every inch of it in wetness.
As quickly as he had pushed in, he pulled out again. He slapped his cock on your face, smearing your own spit on your cheek. He rubbed his tip over your lips in a circle, but when you opened up your mouth for him, instead he leaned forward and spit into your open mouth.
“Swallow it,” he demanded through his teeth, and you did though it made you shudder with disgust.
Only then did he shove his cock in again, and with brutal force as well. He used fistfuls of your hair to pull your face up and down on his cock, ignoring your whimpers of pain.
The room was filled with the sounds of your choking and coughing, until those extended periods of silence when his cock was shoved all the way into your throat and you couldn’t even get enough air for that. It was the sexiest thing he’d ever heard in his life.
When he pulled you off of him to look at your face, he grinned proudly. “Doll, you look like a fuckin’ mess.” And it was true; spit and pre-cum dribbling down your chin and onto the floor, red nose and puffy eyes from crying… truly a sight to behold.
He gave you one more slap for good measure, the fist in your hair preventing your head from spinning to the side.
“Gonna fuckin’ come in your throat. You’d better swallow it all, bitch.”
He could feel your whole body jerk when he said it, and it only served to make your throat even tighter around him.
“Fuck,” he groaned, “just like that, choke on me, fuck, oh god, fuck--”
He came with a stuttered moan and the sounds of protest you tried to make were lost as cum filled your throat and mouth.
He smiled when you swallowed quickly, determined to obey. He wasn’t even done coming yet and you were swallowing it. Probably a good strategy; he had been pent up for a while now and he probably could’ve filled your tiny mouth until it was leaking.
When he was sure every drop of come had been spilled and swallowed, he pulled out and gave you some reprieve. You gasped for air loudly, coughing a few times but mostly maintaining your composure like the good little slut you were.
He watched you shift your hip uncomfortably and realized you must be quite agitated yourself.
“If you want something from me, just ask,” he encouraged. “That’s the whole point of this, isn’t it?”
“Please fuck me,” you whimpered.
He wagged his finger disapprovingly. “I don’t know if you deserve it.”
“Please!” you yelped, and he yanked you off the floor and into his lap quickly.
“You get so dumb when you need me,” he growled into your ear. “So desperate that you don’t know how to think about anything else but cock. Isn’t that right?”
You nodded with a gasp.
“You’re my dumb little baby, aren’t you? Say it," he hissed in demand.
“I’m your dumb little baby,” you repeated breathlessly.
“Get on your hands and knees and get that ass up.”
You obeyed quickly, almost eagerly, and he grinned at your obedience. You really needed it bad, and he was helpless but to oblige you. As soon as he was on his knees behind you and lining up with your sopping entrance, he was shoving his cock into you all at once.
You yelped at the brutality of the intrusion; he stayed still for a moment, relishing the feeling of your warmth, before pulling back out again.
“Wh-?” you began to protest in confusion, but he was a step ahead of you.
“That was just to get my cock wet, baby.”
One metal finger slipped into your puckered hole and you yelped. “D-daddy, not there!”
“Shhh, just relax,” he soothed.
“It’s gonna hurt,” you whined.
“That’s sort of the idea,” he explained. “I know what you can handle, doll.”
“And I can handle this?”
“I never said that.”
And with only one more finger and a few more minutes of hasty preparation, he was pushing his cock into your tighter hole.
“Shh,” he soothed when he felt you clench around him, but still pushing forward, indifferent to your hiss of pain.
“It hurts!” you sobbed.
“I know baby, you’re just gonna have to take it. This wouldn’t be happening if you had just asked me to help you.”
You pouted and it was equal parts adorable and pathetic. “I’m sorry!”
“I’ll tell you when it’s time to apologize. Right now you just need to be quiet. Don’t you wanna be a good little girl?”
“Y-yes.”
He started to move his cock inside you and you shivered under him.
“Please come,” you begged weakly after a few more minutes of thrusting.
“You wanna get it over with? Don’t like it?”
You nodded and he did feel bad for you, but he knew it was what you needed.
“I’ll come when I’m ready, doll. Just take Daddy’s cock, ‘s all you’re good for anyways, right angel?”
You nodded and bit back another sob, blissfully unaware of his adoring gaze; you looked so cute crying for his cock. He liked being strong enough to hurt you almost as much as he liked being strong enough to protect you.
“My perfect little crybaby,” he cooed. “Don’t whine too much or I’ll have to stuff that filthy mouth with a paci, alright?”
He watched you bite your lip and try to stay calm. Out of pity, he moved a little slower than he wanted to, giving you some more time to adjust. Eventually he felt you relaxing, though you still yelped a little when he pushed in all the way. It was hard to choose between watching your face or watching his cock stretch open your hole.
“God, you’re takin’ me so well,” he praised. “Who knew you were such a whore, huh?”
Before you could deny it, he reached down and swiped his fingers through your folds quickly, groaning when he felt how swollen and wet they were. “Fuck, baby, you’re drenched. You like getting fucked up the ass; such a dirty little slut.”
“Just for you, Daddy,” you informed him with a weak voice. He was still angry with you, of course, but he was so proud of you, too. He could remember all those times you’d tried to run or fight, now you were just laying there and taking it like a champ-- no restraints, no threats, just the desire to be good for him. You were everything he’d ever dreamed you could be and more.
The thought spurred his orgasm ahead sooner than he expected, but he still wanted to hold back. You needed more to learn your lesson, and he wanted to savor this feeling as long as possible.
His fingers had been digging into the supple flesh of your hips and ass, hard enough to bruise, but you felt too warm and too soft, so he gripped the sheets instead in his attempts to stave off his rupture.
But it wasn’t much longer until the tightness of you, the heat of you, the sweetness of your sobs all became too perfect to ignore. His cock was aching for release, and if he denied himself much more, he figured his balls would never relax from their tightened state.
“I think you’re ready to apologize now,” he groaned.
“I’m so sorry, Daddy,” you sobbed. “I swear, I’ll never touch myself without your permission again-- and I’ll never think about anybody but you! I only want you, I swear!”
“You sure, baby? You don’t think Sam would treat you better?” he mocked. Sam definitely would be nicer to you, but there was no way he could treat you better than Bucky did. Maybe you wanted a guy who was sweeter, more traditional, but this was what you needed and only your Daddy could give that to you.
“I’m sure! I only want you, please! Please, please come.”
“Is that what you want, angel? Want me to come in your tight little ass?”
“Please,” you whimpered.
“Please…?”
“Please, Daddy.”
And he came, though it was a little more physically taxing since it was the second of the night. You whimpered a little but he could tell you were relieved it was over.
You didn’t put up any fight at bath time that night, just curled into his arms and let him wash you as you whispered more apologies.
“Shh, it’s alright,” he soothed as he washed your hair, whispering right against your ear before giving it a little kiss. “You did good, baby. You made a mistake but you’re gonna learn from it and we’re gonna be better than ever. You took your punishment so well, darling, you should be proud.”
~
Today you'd woken up to an empty house, with a note on the kitchen table:
Gone for groceries, I'll be back in the afternoon. When I get home, greet me at the door wearing what I've laid out for you in your closet.
You figured it wasn't going to be something conservative by any means, but you were still taken aback by finding a tail, collar, and cat-ear headband. The collar was pink leather with a tiny bell and a little heart-shaped steel tag with your name on it. The realization that he had this custom-made sent a shiver down your back. On the back of the tag was another engraving:
IF LOST RETURN TO BUCKY BARNES
You were a little concerned about wearing only a collar, ears and tail… especially when you realized how the tail was intended to be worn.
Still, you had become thoroughly obedient, and you trusted that this would make him happy which was all you could hope for. You fought past your hesitation and changed out of your pajamas into the outfit (if it could even be called that when it contained no actual clothing).
He had the biggest grin on his face when he opened the door to find you on your knees just outside the entryway.
“Oh look at you, kitten,” he beamed.
Being naked on the floor was cold and awkward. You crossed your arms to cover your chest, frowning as you tried to avoid his penetrating gaze. “This is stupid. I feel stupid.”
“You are stupid," he smiled. "But you look great! Now behave or you’ll have to eat out of a bowl on the floor until you’ve learned to love being Daddy’s pet.”
Your eyes went wide.
“You’re gonna behave, right?”
“Y-yes, Daddy.”
He smiled and curled his finger, motioning for you to come closer. You awkwardly crawled towards him on your hands and knees, biting your lip absent-mindedly. When you were on the floor in front of his legs, he knelt down a bit and grabbed a handful of your ass. It made the plug inside you shift and you whimpered.
“Mm, this tail looks lovely on you,” he praised. “And the ears… you’re a natural.”
“Thank you, Daddy,” you shyly accepted the compliment.
"I bet you got wet putting this on, huh?" he presumed. You nodded as he moved to rub two fingers through your folds, proving himself right.
When he leaned back and pulled his cock from his jeans, you were surprised at how hard it already was. Clearly the kitten thing was working for him.
"Go ahead kitty, I know you want a taste," he encouraged.
You leaned forward and gave, fittingly, small kitten licks to the tip of his cock and he groaned. “Just like that, fuck.”
You hummed when you tasted his pre-cum on your tongue. You’d gotten so accustomed to it that you actually enjoyed the flavor now.
Hesitantly, you wrapped your lips around the head and suckled on it gently. Apparently, he didn’t care much for the slow-but-steady method; he slipped two fingers under your collar and used it to pull you down further until you choked.
He continued to guide you forward and back, moaning every time your throat accepted the leaking head of his cock.
“You don’t want me to come in your mouth, do you?” he asked with a grunt.
You shook your head.
He grinned knowingly, pushing you back until your mouth was empty and free to respond. “Where do you want it?”
“In my pussy.”
“Full sentences only, please.”
“I want you to come in my pussy, Daddy, please.”
“Hmm, you did ask very nicely,” he smiled. “But I have something else to do first. Go get on the couch, kitten, hands and knees.”
You almost stood up but realized he wanted you to crawl again. As soon as you’d done it, he was behind you, humming contentedly as he ran his rough hands over your skin. You mewled when he started to kiss along your back, down your ass and between your thighs until he was licking long stripes through your folds. Both of you moaned when he sucked your clit into his mouth, even allowing it to graze against his teeth which nearly hurt but made you gush with wetness anyways.
"Please-- I'm close, Daddy, can I come?" you whimpered.
"Go ahead," he mumbled before returning to his work, knowing exactly how to use his tongue to take you apart in mere minutes. Your hands grabbed desperately at the back of the couch for stability as your legs began to quiver with the force of your orgasm. You yelped and bit down on your lip as it crashed over you; sometimes when he ate you out, he wouldn't stop after you'd came and keep going until you were begging for mercy, but he was apparently feeling generous today and stopped once you'd finished.
That, of course, did not mean he was finished with you.
He pushed his jeans down to his thighs and laid back onto the mattress, cock so hard that it was pressing into his abs.
“Come on kitten, ride me,” he grinned, motioning for you to climb on top of him. The moment you did he was rubbing his cock against you, pushing it upwards for you to sink down onto it. You moaned as it stretched you open, and when your hips met his, the tip of it brushed against the deepest places inside you. You yelped and tried to move back up but he suddenly grabbed your legs and held you down.
“Nuh-uh, kitten, no running away. You’re gonna take all of me.”
“It’s too deep,” you protested weakly, even though you felt your walls throbbing with pleasure.
“Not at all, angel; you’re made for me, so you fit me perfectly,” he explained. “If I let you go, you’re gonna ride me properly, take my whole cock, right?”
You nodded and he eased up his grip. You felt your legs shaking as little as you pushed yourself up only to drop back down, wincing as he filled you so completely once again. You repeated the movement over and over, picking up pace and moaning every time. You could feel his cock moving the plug inside your ass, and each bounce on top of him made your collar jingle a little.
You did your best to keep up the pace, but to lift yourself required use of a muscle that you clearly hadn't been getting much exercise for; it wasn't more than a few minutes before you were faltering, your moans of pleasure accented with the struggling groans of exhaustion.
"Oh kitty, are you too weak? Too wimpy and small to ride my cock? Baby… that's pathetic," he moped.
"I'm sorry, Daddy," you pouted. "I'm just tired…"
"Just a little longer, kitten, just ride my cock a little more then I'll help you out, okay? I know you can do it. I know you can be a good girl."
You hoped he was right. You nodded weakly as he looked at you expectantly, before slowly beginning to move again in spite of your sore thighs.
Soon, as he'd promised, he pulled you down and wrapped his arms around you, thrusting up into you. Your moans echoed against his skin when your face was shoved into the crook of his neck. When his cock slammed into your most sensitive spot, you bit him there as a way to stifle yourself and he slapped your ass.
“Only bad kittens bite, doll. I thought you were going to be a good kitten for me?”
“Feels so good,” you tried to explain though it came out slurred, “please don’t stop.”
“I’m not gonna stop, baby. Not gonna stop until that pussy is full of my come. That what you want?”
“Yes,” you pleaded, “oh god, yes, please…”
He moaned loudly as his thrusts lost all rhythm, his cock moving so fast inside you that the sensation became one hot blur against your walls. Finally, as he groaned and gripped you tight enough to bruise, he spilled inside you.
As he let out a long breath and his body relaxed under you, he smiled softly. "You really are perfect, pet."
"C-can I take off the ears now? And the tail?"
"Hmm, not yet," he grinned, "we need to take a few pictures of you like this first."
~
He was working in the kitchen when he heard your footsteps approaching.
"Don't come in here!" he ordered you. "Wait for me at the dining table."
"Why, Daddy?" he heard you respond from the hall. He smiled just to hear your sweet voice.
"It's a surprise, babydoll," he explained. "It's almost ready-- just wait, okay?"
"Okay, Daddy," you answered dutifully, your footsteps moving to the dining area as he'd requested.
Stepping back and admiring his work, he lifted it and turned out the door to deliver your surprise: a cake, with pink frosting and one pink candle.
Your eyes lit up when you saw him holding the cake stand, being careful not to tilt it or get the flame of the candle near his long hair.
He smiled and set it in front of you, looking to your face for a reaction. Suddenly he felt self-conscious about it, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. "Um, I made it myself. Sorry if the decorating isn't that nice…"
"It's beautiful, Daddy, and I bet it'll taste great, too," you beamed. "What's the occasion?"
"It's our anniversary," he replied, his voice suddenly low and dark.
He saw recognition cross your face, though you looked confused as well. The meds he'd given you throughout the year had disrupted your memories, and probably distorted your perception of the passage of time as well, but it was all necessary to get you compliant. He hoped reminding you of that somewhat violent first day wouldn't set back any of your progress.
"I've… been here a year?" you asked weakly.
"We've been here a year," he corrected, sitting down beside you and wrapping an arm around you, "but that's not what we're celebrating."
The hand on your shoulder slipped down to the underside of your arm, stroking it slowly.
"We're celebrating that a medication somebody gave you a long time ago, before we were together, is finally worn off," he explained slowly, a grin creeping across his face. "We're celebrating that the next time I come inside you, I'm gonna get you pregnant."
He didn't fuck you for three days after that, loving the way you were clearly on edge as you waited for him to make good on his promise. And he didn't blame you for being nervous about it, even if you seemed to understand that any protest from you would fall on deaf ears.
So, he was quite taken aback when you came onto him one night, bedtime cuddling quickly turning into something more as you rubbed your ass against his crotch. He hadn't even realized that you would want it all on your own.
God, you were so fucking perfect he couldn't stand it.
"What are you doing, angel?" he asked you with a growl as he grabbed your hips and forced them to still.
"Nothing, Daddy," you answered coyly. He grinned and nipped at your earlobe.
"Are you horny, babygirl? Because you're acting like a whore."
You nodded and gasped, shivering under his touch.
"Want Daddy's cock inside you?" he pressed, voice getting darker.
"Yes, please!" you begged.
He sat up and flipped you onto your back, caging you in with his arms as he hovered above you.
“You wanna have my baby?” he asked in a husky whisper.
“Yes,” you nodded your head quickly.
“Want me to knock you up, doll? Right now?”
“Please,” you whimpered.
He leaned down, almost close enough to kiss you, as his gaze wandered over your face “I don’t want it to be like the other times. None of the crazy shit, nothing rough. If I’m gonna get you pregnant--”
“Whatever you want,” you pleaded.
He kissed you suddenly, deep and slow. “I love you,” he told you quickly as he pulled back, breathless but confident.
“I love you too,” you answered without even questioning it.
He was gentle, and thorough, and patient. It was love-making in a way that was out of character for him. He lifted your legs to wrap around his hips, pushing into you as deep as he could but with a contemplative slowness; he cradled your face in his hands and kissed all over it as he praised you in whispers.
My pretty girl, my perfect little girl, gonna fill you up, gonna make you mine.
You were only moans and sobs, your arms wrapping around his neck to pull him closer.
The first time you came was unexpected, building slowly but crashing into you all at once, judging by the way you went from softly whimpering to nearly screaming in seconds. The second was quieter, more subtle, but he could tell by the way your walls tightened around him. The third left you in tears, beyond overstimulated and broken down into a babbling mess.
“Please,” you cried, “please I need you to come-- come inside me.”
He struggled to resist that offer, but he didn't want it to be over too quickly.
“Soon,” he promised, “I’m close. You feel so good.”
You wrapped a hand around the back of his neck, pulling him close for a kiss but stopping as his mouth brushed against yours.
“Please, Bucky… please come…” you whispered.
He moaned, his thrusts getting a little more erratic.
“Need it so bad,” you whimpered, “need you to put your baby in me--”
“Fuck,” he hissed, “‘m gonna, promise.”
“Now,” you demanded through your teeth, “I need it now.”
“Not until you come one more time,” he responded. You whined and he knew you were questioning whether it was possible. “I know you can, just gimme one more.”
His angle shifted and he stayed deep within you, grinding his hips on yours just the right way to rub your clit with his pubic bone. Your back arched but he held you close, barraging you with the sensation and pressing his forehead to yours.
Your hands gripped his shoulders for dear life, as if you were afraid to fall. He smiled and kissed your neck, feeling your walls flutter around him once again.
“That’s it,” he praised, “I know you’re close. Just let go. I’ve got you.”
Tears streamed down your face as it tore through you, hitting you so hard that instead of moans it was just silence. He watched your face intently, breathing through his teeth as he summoned all his willpower to hold on just a little longer.
"Daddy!" you yelped, and he couldn't take any more: with a high-pitched, stuttered moan, he felt his cock flexed as he came harder than maybe he ever had before. Knowing that you were fertile made it all so much more intense. Normally, his orgasm just meant the end of sex-- maybe just for a few minutes on a good day. But now? Now it was the beginning of something. His perfect little angel was going to finally fulfill her final purpose and give him a baby. He'd waited so long, dreamed of it every day for years, and finally it was going to happen.
He refused to pull out or let you move until he was sure it would take; he killed the time by kissing every part of your face and neck that he could reach.
He hadn't even gotten you pregnant yet, technically, and he already couldn't wait for more children. He'd always wanted to have a big family, but he gave up on that dream years ago; meeting you had brought it all back, and made him realize that all this time he'd just been waiting for the perfect wife to start it with.
You were well worth the wait.
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traitor
Summary: It was only one night, no strings attached, just two friends working through their grief together. Steve went to live his life with Peggy and within two weeks of returning, he peacefully passed. Unimaginable things happen everyday, jokes have negative consequences, and protection doesn’t always protect from the possibility… the possibility of carrying a child. He would have stayed if he knew, everyone agrees with this, so why is the world calling Steve Rogers a traitor?
One-Shot (with a happy ending)
Pairing(s): Avengers x Fem Reader; brief Steve Rogers x Fem Reader
Warnings: Unexpected pregnancy; serious talks about abortion; brief mention of suicide (if you squint); mentions of Endgame deaths; strong language; minor descriptions of actual birth; ANGST but with a happy ending! This is purely fanfiction.
Word Count: 6,600+
A/N: So, Olivia Rodrigo’s album just came out and dude, jfc every song is magical. like... wtf. This is essentially a ‘song fanfic’, but ehhhh not quite. The lyrics don’t match the fanfic lmao but the melody does??? idk this is a shit ton of angst, be warned. It was from a request I got a while back, so this is kind of a request fanfic.
~
Up until the moment Steve pressed his soft lips to yours, you were certain you had never experienced such a wonderful sensation of magic. You had been witness to actual magic, to beings from other worlds, and yet Steve’s gentle touch was enough to erase any other image, to completely overpower your senses, a kind of magic that dug deep into the trenches of your heart and settled in its new home.
No, you and Steve were not a couple. There were some flirty remarks over the years, some fantasies that lay dormant, but there was never the craving to actually act upon them. But when half the world disappeared and the remaining Avengers came up with a plan five years later, the loss of a teammate prompted the sudden push of two touch-starved individuals. The rest of the team had gone to sulk in their own corners of the compound, some hard at work at constructing the final piece to the puzzle, and you and Steve ventured off to the kitchen. Two cups of tea each, silent but heavy tears mixing in with the sugar and milk.
You were the first to break, shoulders crumbling and knees rocking under your weight. You fell to the floor, sobs and hiccups forming into a full-blown attack, your hands scratching at your neck. Steve fell beside you, pulling you into his chest and rocking you back and forth. He cried too, the final words of his best friend ringing in his ears like a dreaded song on repeat. See you in a minute. See you in a minute. See you in a minute.
Time was irrelevant, you had enough of counting time, estimating it, time-traveling through it. If you could sit there all night, all week, another five years huddled close to Steve Rogers, then so be it.
‘I can’t believe she’s gone,’ you had sobbed.
‘I can’t believe it either. I can’t,’ he had cried back.
You had simply lifted your head and turned his face toward yours, searching his eyes for any hesitation before you had leaned in first. He had returned the intimate gesture almost immediately, gripping you tightly. Tears dripped in between your moving lips, sobs caught inside breathy moans, grips becoming tighter and tighter as each of you shared your first time together. No other partner up until that point had ever pulled such a pained but grateful cry from your throat, no other human being had ever made you feel so safe and peaceful.
The final battle was over, you had lost yet another teammate, but the world had a chance to start over. And Steve had pulled you aside a few days before he returned the stones, letting you know that he wasn’t coming back the same man. He had been so scared of telling you, of possibly betraying you, but when your palms cupped his cheeks and you gave him a kiss on the lips with a soft whisper of ‘Be with her. Cherish her. Be happy. We’ll meet again’, his worries instantly shattered. He could only rapidly nod his head, grabbing your hands that were soaked in his tears, and kissing them until he said his final goodbyes.
And he returned such a different man, but with a smile you had never quite seen before. Yes, he was older and you only had a few seconds to actually process that, but he was happy. He had been happy. He finally lived the life he deserved.
Sitting in that pew two weeks later, both sad and happy tears streaming down your face, you felt at peace for the first time in a long time. You simply gripped Wanda’s hand as they carried the casket down the aisle, a sad melody drowning the church.
`
The first round of sickness hit you the day of the funeral, but you obviously didn’t think much of it. It was the fits of sadness and grief, the hot coil in the middle of your stomach, you thought. It had to be. It wasn’t until your breakfast was regurgitated into your toilet only a few minutes after enjoying it that you were suddenly worried.
You sneaked to some liquor store a subway ride away, careful of not leaving a trail. This was embarrassing, it was insane, it couldn’t possibly be real. You gave the cashier your money and ran to the stall provided, peeing on the stick the best you could before placing it on the dirty sink in the corner. You patted your hands on your thighs repeatedly, careful to not touch any other thing in a goddamn liquor store bathroom.
‘Friday?’ your voice was so defeated, tears already stinging your eyes.
Your little bluetooth sprang to life, ‘Yes, Y/N?’
Your bottom lip was trembling wildly, hands now shaking. ‘Can you stay active with me while I read the results? I can’t… I can’t be alone right now.’
‘Yes, Y/N. Anything you need, I’m here.’ You sobbed openly, thanking her under your breath. ‘Are you sure you don’t want me to contact anybody else?’
‘I can’t face them. I can’t face them if it’s positive, Friday.’
‘Okay, it’s alright,’ her voice was so delicate, so quiet and reassuring. ‘Just keep talking to me, Y/N. I think the results should be ready now.’
You inched closer to the test. ‘I’m scared, Friday.’
‘I know,’ Friday sighed, ‘But you will get through this. No matter the result.’
Grabbing the small device from the sink, you swallowed so much saliva that it actually hurt. The plus sign was so clear, so evident in its visibility, and your ears only registered the loud cries escaping your painful lungs because Friday was practically yelling in your ear.
‘Please, calm down Y/N! Your heart rate is too fast-” she was stuttering, an AI was stuttering. ‘I’m calling for help. You need someone to be here with you. I’m sorry.’
It took ten minutes. Ten minutes of banging outside the bathroom door from the cashier, ten minutes of blurry vision and a strep throat. Sam broke through the door as quickly as he could, eyes flying around the small bathroom until he saw you huddled in the corner, a pregnancy test clutched in your small hand. He crouched down beside you, hands extended but not exactly touching you, and eyes trying to lock with yours.
‘Y/N, Y/N?’
Just the sound of his voice, the voice of someone who didn’t need this added pain in their lives, it was just too much. Another weight added to your shoulders.
‘I don’t know why,’ you choked out, ‘I’m so sorry.’
Sam’s face contorted into a pained expression, eyes brimmed with salty tears. ‘What are you talking about? No one is blaming you for anything. You’re safe, I’m here.’
You shook your head violently, ‘I didn’t mean to.’
But as quickly as those words left your mouth, the pounding in your head had become too unbearable. You collapsed into Sam’s arms.
`
You woke to a single doctor who was monitoring your vitals. She was just sitting beside your bed, clicking random buttons on the screen in front of her. You whimpered slightly, the bright lights temporarily blinding you. The doctor quickly stopped what she was doing and removed the tube from your nose, allowing you to breathe on your own. You ignored the weird scratch that caused, and asked her the question you needed to have answered by a true medical professional - not a liquor store device.
She confirmed what you already knew. There were no ‘congratulations’ or even ‘I’m sorry’s’, just the fact that you were pregnant and it was very early on. There were still options for you, it was healthy so far, you were healthy so far-
Wait, options?
The team were all huddled outside, nerves all over the place. They didn’t know what was going on. Sam knew but it wasn’t his information to pass on. It wasn’t until Bucky’s angry demeanor actually turned violent, a hole forming through the hospital wall. You were all on a private floor, completely displaced from the reality down on other levels, so any freak-outs were only slightly justified. Slightly.
‘Sam, you gotta tell us. I made a promise to Steve, Sam! I promised to take care of her!’
Bucky’s words gripped Sam’s heart in a metaphorical vice. ‘She’s gotta tell you guys, man. It’s not my place.’
You had curled in on yourself, the doctor’s words echoing louder and louder.
‘Abortion is an option. At this rate, it would be quick and safe. I can promise you that. It’s your choice.’
You wanted to die. You wanted the world to swallow you up and bury you alive. You wanted to disappear. If you had died in the snap, this wouldn’t have happened. It wouldn’t have happened.
The ride back to the compound was a quiet one, with Sam driving you and the radio on low volume.
‘Are you going to tell them?’
You bit your lip, ‘The doctor said I had options.’
Sam’s breath hitched and he tried to mask it, but you had heard it. You felt guilty, disgusting, like you betrayed Steve and the rest of the team. They had just lost him, you had just lost him, and you were carrying his child. And if Steve would have known, he would have wanted it. He would have encouraged you to have it, he would have been so happy, he would have been such a great fa-
‘The choice is yours, Y/N.’ He glanced over at you, ‘Can you at least tell me who the father is?’
The wrecked sobs were like second nature now, choking you with their strength. ‘I’m so sorry!’
Sam pulled to the side of the road and quickly took off his seatbelt, sliding over in the connected front seats to pull you into his chest. ‘Shh, hey. We are not going to be mad at you. Everything’s going to be okay. It may not seem like it now but-’
‘Sam!’ you cried, clutching his shirt in a tight fist. ‘I swear it was an accident! Steve didn’t know! He didn’t know, I swear he didn’t know!’
Sam’s mouth dropped open, an almost embarrassing noise of surprise sounding from the depths of his soul. He ran his hands through your hair, eyes rapidly searching for a single viewpoint. But he couldn’t focus on any one thing, not when you were shuddering against him and apologizing nonstop.
Steve didn’t know.
`
The team had reacted in a similar manner. They so desperately wanted to wish you a congratulations, it was the norm for this kind of thing. Especially with such a rough few years - bringing life into this world could be considered an ultimate blessing. But this was Steve’s child, his baby, his only baby in this timeline. It was a part of him, something he had unknowingly left behind.
The team took a few days. The pain of losing Natasha, of losing Steve, of losing Tony. The gift of life. It was just too much.
And you found yourself in front of Wanda’s bedroom door, hands clutching your night robe closed and knees wobbly. She brought you tea, she laid underneath the covers with you, she spooned you until you stopped crying.
‘We weren’t together.’
‘You weren’t?’
You sat up, muscles straining due to your thousandth crying session that week. ‘No, it was one time. It was a mutual thing. We just… felt safe. And we made love.’
Wanda shut her eyes briefly, only to open them for two parallel tears to slip. ‘That sounds beautiful.’
‘We used protection. It really was an accident.’
Wanda interrupted, ‘No, don’t try and justify yourself. It happened. It’s done.’
You whimpered, reaching out to grab her hands. ‘I feel so guilty for even talking to you. I don’t know how you did it. I’m so selfish to be pouring all this on you-’
‘Hey, hey,’ she whispered, ‘But I am the only one who can truly understand. I have lost more in my lifetime than anybody ever should. But I am going to help you get through this, Y/N.’
You pulled her into a hug, ‘I missed you so much. I’m so sorry, but I can’t do this.’
Wanda slowly pulled away, eyes cloudy and touch of red twinge flying in her irises. ‘Alright. I won’t leave your side. No matter what you decide.’
`
The chair was cold, the room was cold, no matter how inviting the hospital tried to make this room. It was decorated in the most neutral colors, so delicate in its designs, pamphlets and books scattered on every available surface. It was made to make the pregnant person feel secure, to feel comfortable in the hands of their doctor, but it just made you sick.
And when the doctor asked if you would like an ultrasound first, that it wasn’t actually necessary for you to view it, you found yourself saying yes. You were at six weeks, it would be there. Wanda clenched her eyes shut, because even if you were strong enough to do that, she wasn’t. But she was here to hold your hand. She would hold your hand no matter what.
It was the size of a grain of rice. That fuzzy, white figure off a little to the right of your uterus was the size of a grain. A literal grain of rice. The monitor shifted and the doctor cleared their throat, the slimy device absentmindedly being circled around your lower abdomen.
‘Oh my god,’ you whispered, eyes locked on the place the doctor had their finger. Wanda brought her hand up to her mouth and looked away.
That’s when you heard it.
The steady rhythm of a strong heartbeat.
Your chest started heaving, tears staining your cheeks as you listened to the beautiful sound.
‘I’m so sorry,’ the doctor mumbled, ready to pull the monitor’s plug to end the live video but you gripped their arm before they could.
‘No, no!’ you yelped, the heartbeat still sounding, so early in its actual life that this was for sure Steve’s child.
You turned to Wanda, face contorting into one of agonizing regret. ‘I can’t do this. I can’t do this to Steve.’
Wanda gulped and took in a ragged breath, ‘Y/N, Steve’s not here.’
‘No,’ you whined, head turning back to look at the monitor. The monitor with yours and Steve’s child on it. ‘This is the only real part of him we have left, right?’
Wanda opened her mouth but shut it again, unable to formulate a proper response.
‘This is Steve’s child,’ you stated, sucking in a breath through your sobs. ‘This is my child.’
`
The team was alerted of your decision the minute you walked into the common room. They had known what you left for, dread itching in their souls and morals twisting greedily, but they hadn’t stopped you. They couldn’t do that to you.
‘Hi,’ you mumbled, placing your things on the counter. Everyone kept their heads down, lumps growing in their throats as each second passed. ‘I’m okay.’
Clint was the first one to speak. ‘Did everything go well? Did they hurt you?’
You smiled with your teeth for the first time in weeks, ‘No, they didn’t hurt me. They didn’t even touch me.’
For a few seconds, no one caught on to your words. But Bucky was the first to register them, to etch them deeply into his brain, to stand from his seat and walk to you cautiously. ‘You decided-?’
You smiled wide now, happy tears falling over your strained cheeks. ‘I’m having a baby.’
The team erupted, cries and cheers deafening you. Bucky stumbled over and hugged you close, arms wrapped over your shoulders and face buried in your neck. He had to bend his knees to keep that position. He weeped into your shoulder and thanked you repeatedly, his own body rumbling with broken sobs. You held him close, fingers digging into his shirt and the skin of his back.
‘We promise, Y/N,’ Sam said off to the side, waiting for his turn to hug you. ‘We promise to take care of you and this baby.’
A few more long-awaited congratulations were shared. ‘Guess I’m on desk duty for the next nine months, huh?’
Bucky held you tighter.
`
The first four months were certainly eventful. Wanda insisted on taking pictures of you every few weeks. She had you model with a nice tight shirt to show off your growing stomach, different props in your arms as the weeks passed on. Flowers, sporting equipment, random Avengers inventions, signs that read the number of weeks you were at. You even did couple shoots, with your teammates posing behind you with their hands on your stomach and an equally bright smile.
She had them printed out and framed, the compound common rooms now littered with random photos of you and your growing child. It was like a timeline, a museum considering you would catch someone inspecting the photographs. This time it was Scott, casually eating his cereal and balancing it in his hand as he walked the hallway. He had this silly smile on his face the whole time, milk dripping from his bottom lip. In his photo, he was posed behind you with a giant smile, back arched and head thrown back while you were trying your best to arch your back as well. And then he saw you watching him, eyes falling from your face to your stomach, and that silly smile growing wider.
Happy insisted on doing yoga with you every other morning, his chosen playlists actually Tony’s. Half expecting the songs to only emit the essence of rock and roll, you were surprised when the playlist only contained acoustics. Happy winked at you, ‘He was a man of taste, Y/N. He, too, had those sad driving songs.’
Peter was hesitant to visit at first. He was still mourning Tony, as you all were, and seeing everyone again was certainly a hard thing to do. But he managed, and the moment he saw you there, trying to balance a plastic bottle on your tiny stomach, he burst into a fit of giggles.
‘Oh, oh! I almost got it!’ you encouraged yourself, stomach not yet protruded enough to quite get it.
Peter rushed over and caught the bottle as it slipped, ‘You’ll get there. How do you feel?’
You grinned at the kid, ‘Like I’m pregnant.’
Peter chuckled, ‘I wouldn’t know, so.’
‘It’s weird,’ you admitted, turning back to your abandoned bowl of fruit. You popped a piece of pineapple in your mouth, ‘But I just remind myself that they’re gonna be an angel when they come out.’
‘All slimy and angelic.’
You swatted at Peter, ‘They’re healthy. That’s all that matters.’
Peter placed his hand on your stomach, half-expecting something to happen. ‘I can’t believe you’re having his baby.’
You bit your lip, willing yourself not to cry. Steve should be here experiencing this. ‘Me neither.’
`
The next month had come so quickly. Your friends - your family - made sure to keep you occupied. Whether it was to shop, to nap together, to eat together, to exercise together, anything, they were by your side. It was so overwhelming at times, but not wanting to scare anyone, you took time for yourself whenever you could. You’d settle in your room, in a nearby cafe, in Natasha’s room, and just sit and breathe. With one hand on your stomach, you couldn’t possibly fathom the luck on your side. It always tore your heart in two when you realized Steve would never meet his child, absolutely mutilated it. But the realization that this child was going to have such a massive family, your family, uncles and aunts who would die for the kid - that realization was sometimes too much.
The thunder from outside startled everyone. The quiet night everyone was having was suddenly interrupted by the appearance of a certain god, hair now cut and beard trimmed, running into the common area. He was practically hyperventilating, his quick pace halting as he scanned the room. ‘Is it true?’
‘You got my message?’ Wanda asked, shutting off the water from the sink.
‘I’m sorry, I was away. I just got the message and-’
Thor lay his eyes on you, your obvious stomach, and he started crying softly. ‘It’s true?’
You smiled at him, opening your arms for an embrace. But Thor fell to his knees in front of you, forehead resting on your stomach. ‘This is a miracle.’
‘It really is,’ you laughed, wiping away a few stray tears. ‘The condom broke.’
Laughter sounded almost instantly.
Thor looked up at you, eyes red and eyebrows furrowed. ‘He didn’t know?’
You shook your head, ‘No, Steve didn’t know. I promise.’
Thor nodded, believing you. He stood slowly, encasing you in a tight squeeze. He hadn’t changed much since you last saw him, but he did seem to be drinking less. ‘After so much loss, the Heaven’s send us a gift from a beloved friend.’
`
Bucky seemed to be the happiest. Although he shared your beliefs that Steve should be here to experience this, to cherish this, to be the father he had deserved to be, Bucky couldn’t help but feel grateful that you decided to keep the baby. He knew he needed to stop relying on Steve to fix his mind, this he had to do on his own, but the bundle of joy inside of you just added to his undying love for his best friend. This was a piece of him, a true half of Steve’s heart that would soon be breathing air and opening its eyes.
He was currently laying beside you, just woken up from a nap and lazily drawing circles over your clothed tummy. You were still asleep, deep breaths a little ragged since you were twisted slightly to your side. You had given up trying to sleep on your back nowadays.
‘Hey there,’ Bucky whispered, a funny smile forming on his face because he can’t believe he’s talking to your literal stomach. ‘You know you’re a miracle, right?’
There was no response, obviously. But Bucky just positioned himself to lean on his elbow, temple resting in the palm of his hand. ‘We’re going to love you so much. Steve would have loved you so much.’
He placed his metal hand on your stomach, careful not to apply so much pressure. He was hesitant though, the metal hand now from Wakanda but still something he didn’t entirely trust. Still, he rubbed smooth circles on your side. ‘I already love you so much.’
Kick.
Bucky widened his eyes, a hitch in his breath. Was that real?
‘Did you just respond to me?’ Bucky asked, a little laugh escaping his lips. ‘Should I say it again?’
Nothing happened for a long while. He switched hands, rubbing a little deeper now. It was a free massage for you, anyway.
Bucky bit his lip and looked up at your face, still peacefully dreaming. He leaned closer to your stomach and repeated his earlier confession. ‘I love you.’
Kick.
Bucky shot up from his spot on the bed and covered his mouth, a loud laugh accidentally escaping and startling you awake.
‘W-What?’
‘They kicked! They kicked!’
‘Seriously?’
Bucky was shooting through the stars, because even though it was a long shot, he felt like somehow Steve was telling him he loved him back.
`
Sam’s leg bounced madly as he watched the doctor slick up the generator. You repeatedly tried to calm him, tell him that it would be quick and simple, and there was nothing to be worried about.
You were six months now. Belly now protruding to the point where you could only see the tips of your toes when you glanced downward, and the baby was positioned farther into your back. If anything, you were having a giant freaking baby. He was a product of a super soldier.
You remembered having that scary conversation with the doctors, your whole family beside you as they heard and relayed the information.
‘Your baby is perfectly healthy. The serum isn’t affecting it. His lungs are forming less quickly than the other organs but there’s no serious worry.’
Bucky had literally cackled at that, confusing everyone in the room. ‘Steve and his shit lungs.’
But now you were finding out the sex. Only one person was allowed in the room this time, and Sam had literally begged you with his eyes to choose him.
‘Are you two ready?’
You each nodded at the doctor, waiting for the monitor to spring to life. After a few seconds, the heartbeat was detected. You gripped Sam’s hand in yours, a quiet ‘thank god’ passing through his lips.
Then the giant image of a literal baby appeared on the screen. It was so surreal. It resembled a quick sketch, like one Steve would have casually drew, and you couldn’t help but imagine him drawing that very image from memory.
‘Y/N, I-’ Sam cleared his throat, smiling at you.
‘Would you like to know the sex of the baby?’
‘Yes, please,’ you answered, gripping Sam’s hand harder.
The doctor moved the generator a few times more, hitting the spacebar on the computer to capture the image. ‘Congratulations, you’re having a boy.’
You shuttered a tiny laugh as Sam flew out of his seat, arms extended upward for a moment before he brought his hands down to kiss them over and over.
‘I’ll print this out for you,’ the doctor smiled, leaving you and Sam to celebrate.
`
Everyone had gathered later that night to find out the news. You had printed enough copies for everyone who wanted one. Bets were placed, a multitude of gifts already mounted in online shopping carts.
‘Don’t keep us waiting!’ Rhodey shouted, champagne bottle at the ready and propped up on his thigh for when you made your announcement.
Sam was standing beside you, a massive grin plastered on his face. You rolled your eyes at him and urged him on, telling him that you were fine with him saying it. Sam didn’t need to be told twice.
‘It’s a boy!’
Pop! Drinks were poured and hugs were shared, with even Friday coming over the monitor to congratulate you.
Even in the midst of all the excitement, you felt a little empty. But you enjoyed your pre-baby shower, happy that everything was so unbelievably working out.
It was midnight when you alerted Friday to call Happy to your room. You needed a ride.
Happy was slightly irritated at being woken up, but once you told him where you were heading, he obliged. The ride was silent, comfortable, with Happy glancing at you once in a while to make sure you were okay.
You walked across the grass slowly, hands resting on your stomach and just a little waddle in your walk. You flashed your phone light over the headstones even though the headstone you were looking for was in a secluded area. Happy trailed you, keeping a respectable distance.
You stopped in front of the small building, the fence somewhat blocking your path. But there was no security around, and even if you were caught on camera, your face let everyone know who you were and your connection to Steve. You had no worries.
You broke the lock easily and opened the door. It was almost entirely marble, a good deal of Steve’s actual aesthetic. So simple, not overly patriotic, and secluded. He had refused to be buried in Arlington.
You sat on the bench provided, the three names in front of you standing out like they were begging to be read out loud. So you complied.
‘Sarah,’ you muttered, smiling as the name rolled off your tongue. ‘Thank you for sending everyone a literal angel.’
You muttered his father’s name as well, but felt no personal connection to it. You spent at least ten minutes building up the courage to utter his name, to say his name in front of him again. He was buried right underneath your feet, his name the only thing for you to see.
‘Steve,’ you sighed and rubbed your stomach. ‘Steve.’
You sobbed silently and watched as the tears fell on top of your resting hands. ‘I don’t regret it.’
You were met with silence. ‘I don’t regret any of it. God knows why he did this. But you lived your life, and I just can’t believe I have to bring life into this world without you here.’
‘It’s a boy, Steve. A lovely little boy.’
You brought your hand up to your mouth to bite the side of it, throat clenching. ‘Everyone is so happy. I am, too. I promise you.’
You lowered your hand back to your stomach. ‘I just wish that you could feel that happiness.’
The moonlight moved slightly, shining on his name brighter now. ‘He’ll know about you, don’t worry about that.’ You laughed.
You didn’t want to keep Happy waiting. You stood from the bench slowly, feet sore. You walked closer to him, wishing you could easily bend down and give him a kiss. But you physically couldn’t right now, so you blew him one instead. ‘Thank you.’
`
Somehow the rumor got out that an Avenger was pregnant. And when Wanda was seen outside without a large stomach, all fingers were pointed at you.
The news went ballistic, most positive and raving, while others pondered just who had gotten you pregnant. You had been seen with everyone in paparazzi photos, so no actual conclusion had been made.
Until a picture of you at Steve’s gravesite was leaked.
It was constant bombardment, timelines were stitched together, magazines and their headlines were having a field day. Rhodey had tried to cancel these news stories, to threaten lawsuits, but to no avail. The world was now cursing Steve’s name - ‘how dare he leave her while pregnant?’, ‘how could he leave her pregnant and for another woman?’, ‘did he even know?’
The team had done everything in their power to try and clear yours and Steve’s name, but no one was having it. Steve’s love story was now tarnished, with many calling him a traitor and a deadbeat. It was no use.
You struggled to climb the stairs, inwardly cursing the staff for not installing a ramp instead. The flashes were blinding, the lights were hot, and the various microphones placed on the stand were comical.
Everyone hushed, looks of sympathy and pity slapping you in the face.
‘I know what you’re all thinking and what you’ve all been saying,’ you started, eyes wandering to the far corner of the room where your team were huddled. ‘But I need to clear a few things up.’
‘Steve didn’t know.’
The crowd erupted, questions flying at you like fast bullets. They were silenced after a few moments. ‘We shared a moment with each other before we brought everyone back. I didn���t know I was pregnant until after his funeral.’
The crowd murmured amongst each other. ‘He told me he was planning to stay in another timeline. To live his life. I encouraged him. He did not leave me alone and pregnant. He truly didn’t know.’
You finished, they didn’t deserve a deeper explanation. You ignored their calls for questions, some even trying to crowd you at the doors. But you pushed through them, cradling your stomach with a newfound sense of pride.
`
It was time.
You sat up in your bed and quickly wiped away the hard crusts from the corners of your eyes. You sat there for a few seconds before you felt another harsh twinge. ‘A-ah!’
You didn’t know why you paused, legs now thrown over the side of the bed. They felt like menstrual cramps, it could be false labor. You let out a heavy breath and pushed yourself up, legs wobbly. But the moment you did, it was like something snapped. Your legs were wet and a tiny puddle had started forming on the floor.
‘Friday!’
The lights in your room turned on immediately, ‘Y/N, is it time?’
You moaned at the uncomfortable cramping, ‘Yeah, I think it is.’
‘I’m waking and alerting the team right now, Y/N. Sit back down, please.’
You listened to Friday, sitting at the edge of your bed for a few moments before you realized you had to pack a bag. You shuffled across your room and grabbed the duffel bag Scott had left for you a few days ago. You packed a pair of socks, sweats, underwear, vaseline and your toothbrush, hairbrush, and phone. You zipped your bag just in time for both Bucky and Sam to throw open your door, Sam struggling to put his shoes on and Bucky slipping on a jacket inside-out.
‘Y/N, is it really time? Are you ready? Are you okay?’
You ignored the cramping in your back and laughed at them, ‘Yes! My water broke, I’m in pain, it’s time.’
With both Sam and Bucky at your sides, they held onto you as you all stumbled down the hallway. Thor was already waiting with the elevator open, the biggest smile on his aging face.
‘Wanda and Bruce are preparing the room. Scott already called the doctor. Clint’s in route,’ Bucky reassured. The three men huddled into the elevator with you, all instructing you to breathe and to squeeze them if you needed to.
But even though you were in pain, albeit not as extreme as it was going to inevitably get, you were so incredibly happy. They were all so loud, so chaotic, and you were as calm as a cucumber.
The elevator dinged. ‘Good luck, Y/N,’ you heard Friday call after you. You pinched your eyes closed, the thought that Friday was ultimately a part of Tony’s consciousness - Tony was wishing you good luck.
The pressure in your hips was starting to build and you didn’t know how long this would actually take. Some people had quick births, some people lay in labor for hours, some for a day. But it seemed like this was going to be pretty quick, because your next scream was completely involuntarily.
Bucky winced, leading you to the bed Wanda had just lay sheets on. ‘You’re doing great, Y/N. Absolutely perfect.’
You laughed at Bucky and gripped his hand in silent thanks before slipping into the bed and trying to get comfortable. Before you could truly feel like you made it, like the first hard step was done, you sat up quickly.
‘Wait, wait! Nat’s sweater! I was gonna wear Nat’s sweater!’
Thor was already out the door, ‘I’ll get it! Don’t worry!’
You smiled at the ceiling, beads of sweat now rolling down your forehead. ‘Oh, this hurts!’
It was an hour. Once you shimmied into Natasha’s purple knitted sweater, you lay there trying to control your breathing. Everyone had piled into the room one right after the other. The room was big enough, spacious enough for even Bruce to roam freely. Although you were in an immense amount of pain, you still focused on your team.
Scott was on his third cup of coffee, sipping excitedly as he conversed with the others. Bruce was constantly checking your vitals and wanting everything the doctor was saying repeated. Wanda was beside you, a hand gripping yours and the other running ice chips along your lips. Bucky was on your other bedside wearing one of Steve’s sweatshirts because it still smelled like him. His logic was that if he was wearing something of Steve’s the first moment he held your baby, then the first thing he smelled would be the remnants of his father.
And Thor was practically speechless, silent in his own little corner and feeling like the god’s really did bless everyone in this room after such turmoil.
Clint arrived with Peter trailing behind him just when the doctor instructed you sit up - you were at ten centimeters.
‘You gotta push, Y/N! You gotta push when the doctor says push!’
You yelled until your lungs gave out, head almost rolling back but Sam held it in his palm. ‘C’mon, Y/N! You’re doing great!’
You usually had perfect pitch when you sang, never faltering when it was time to hit a high note. But your voice was cracking at the most unusual times, throat rubbed raw as you felt your hips splinter open.
‘He’s crowning!’
Wanda traded places with Sam real quick, deciding that she wanted to see the baby when he was finally out. Bucky had a death grip on your hand, tears flowing freely and a smile to match Thor’s.
‘Push, Y/N! Push!’
‘I’m-I’m! I’m sorry! I can’t!’
The doctor was working her hands around the head, trying to ease the baby out easier. ‘Trust me, Y/N. One more big push and the shoulders will be out. That’s the hardest part.’
The doctor’s words were starting to drown out, and your head lolled back again. You felt tiny smacks on your cheeks, ‘C’mon, Y/N. You can do this. Everyone believes in you. You’re so goddamn strong, Y/N!’
That was Bucky’s voice. Bucky.
You opened your eyes, delirious for a second. ‘Steve?’
Bucky whimpered and nodded, bringing your hand up to his lips and pressing kisses all over. ‘He’s here. I feel him, Y/N. You can do this.’
And you could feel him. You could see your family but you could feel him. It was so light, like a gentle whisk across the cheek, a promise that this truly was a miracle.
You screamed as you pushed under doctor’s orders, feeling numb and abused but satisfied. His shoulders slipped out and along with them came his arms and torso, legs and all ten toes. The doctor caught him quickly, lifting him up vertically to let you see him. He was already crying.
‘He’s here!’
You sobbed and smiled widely, laughter rattling your chest as the team bombarded you with quick hugs. Sam remained at your side, his eyes motioning for Bucky to go see the baby.
‘Who’s cutting the cord?’
You looked around the room but you knew. You answered the doctor’s question. ‘Bucky.’
Bucky was truly confused. Not because of your decision, but because he couldn’t possibly be worthy of this. His hands, those hands that had killed so many people involuntarily, had almost killed Steve, those hands were now gripping a pair of medical scissors to cut the symbolization of new life entering the world. He turned to you for permission one last time, before he gripped the cord in his hand and cut where the doctor pointed.
His shoulders felt a million times lighter. Like he was set free all over again.
They cleaned the baby up quickly and swaddled him. The doctor placed him in your arms, all warm and utterly safe, to look back up at you with the same blue eyes as his father.
You sobbed happily, brushing your fingers delicately along his pink cheek. ‘Hi. Hi there.’
He was no longer crying, just staring up in pure astonishment at the various faces staring back at him.
‘Y/N, he’s beautiful,’ Clint said, tissue already in hand.
‘I can’t believe you’re here,’ you spoke softly.
‘Do we have a name?’
It was like everyone said it in unison. ‘Steve.’
You snuggled into the bed and Natasha’s sweater, somewhat aware of the doctor still fixing you up down there. You would try feeding later, but for now your newborn needed to be passed around the group and be awed at.
You carefully guided him to Bucky, holding his head gently in your palm. Bucky took him, arms instinctively curling in the correct position. Once Bucky had him in his arms, it was like everything that happened in the world was worth it. Absolutely everything.
Bucky watched in fascination as the baby curled deeper in his chest, little fist clutching Steve’s sweatshirt. He took the sweetest little intake of air…
`
xxMoni
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