My own world

36 years old, Female Makes up different situations for all of her characters. Mainly uses Photoshop. Writes sometimes. Developing her style everyday.

[hotdoggysh]

[bedupolker]

Saw a gorgeous horned lizard though... always wild how many color/pattern variations i see i the same species.

Compared to a pink one I saw one mountain over

[duplicitus]

stay, just a little longer

[capibuck]

I've seen a lot of theories, rumors, and even supposed leaks claiming that the Steve from the Avengers: Doomsday trailer is actually Hydra Cap, secretly infiltrating the team to manipulate them or feed information to Doom.

Whether that theory ends up being true or not, I couldn't resist imagining this little scenario. In this version, it really is Hydra Cap posing as Steve, and Bucky is the only one who immediately senses that something is wrong.

🧡 Patreon | Ko Fi | ✅COMMISSIONS OPEN any couple inside or outside of Marvel and OCs.🧡

[43alska]

today's warmup

[mentalmeles]

Thinking about Steve being so afraid that the serum would change his love for Bucky.

The moment Erksine tells Steve that the serum will cure him of all his ailments, his heart stalls and his stomach sinks. He tries desperately to not give himself away when he meets the doctor’s eyes.

“All of them?” He asks. If his voice comes out small and trembling, he can pass it off as being in total awe of the concept of being healthy. And he is. But…

Erskine doesn’t seem to notice anything amiss as he smiles kindly and places a warm hand on Steve’s shoulder. “All of them.”

Steve lays awake that night, praying to a god he hadn’t spoken to since he lost his mother. Please, he begs. Don’t take this from me. Let me keep this one thing. It isn’t long, though, before his thoughts devolve into apology after apology to Bucky. Despite how much he loathed the thought of it, if he must lose his love for Bucky in order to be there for him—to protect him—, then so be it. It’s horrible, and painful, and bitterly unfair, but Steve Rogers will sacrifice anything to save Bucky Barnes.

The moment he steps out of the machine that transforms him, Steve notices most of the changes immediately. He’s big and tall. The world is bright and his heart feels strong. He can actually breathe. When he chases after the man that murdered Erksine, his thoughts and legs move fast—faster than Steve ever thought possible.

It’s only at night when Steve finally realizes.

He still loves Bucky.

He still wants to hold him in his arms, run his fingers through his hair, and kiss him breathless. He still loves him. He still loves him. Amidst his relief, Steve feels confusion. Erskine said the serum would cure him of all his illnesses. And it has, all except for this one thing. It’s then when one thought hits him with all the weight of the world;

They’re not sick. They were never sick.

Their love was never wrong.

[bucky-is-my-favourite]

This one’s for bravery! This one’s for bedtime stories and this one’s for carrying me on your shoulders.

Dad!Bucky

Summary - Rainy Sunday → girls turn Bucky's vibranium arm into their craft canvas — stickers, glitter glue, tiny painted flowers. They call it beautiful; he sees it as their love made visible. He proudly wears it everywhere, refuses to wash it off, and treasures every piece long after it fades. His arm, once a burden, becomes his favorite thing — because they made it so.

Warnings - fluff, dad!bucky, domestic setting, war injury (metal arm) all soft and healing.

Writers notes - whole lotta fluff 🥹.

No proof read or word count. I appreciate you 🫶🏻

It’s a drizzly Sunday afternoon—too gray and wet to go outside, so the living room floor is spread with every craft supply the girls could drag out of the cupboard: sheets of shiny stickers, tubes of glitter glue, little pots of safe paint, ribbons, and sparkly gems.

“Daddy, sit still! Don’t move!” your oldest insists, gently guiding his vibranium arm onto the cushion between them. Bucky just huffs a soft, fond laugh and settles back. “I’m not going anywhere, sugar. Do your worst.”

They treat his arm like the most precious canvas in the world. First they run their small hands over the cool, smooth plates, tracing the lines and seams like they’re mapping something wonderful. Bucky watches their faces—utterly focused, soft and bright—and his heart swells so much it almost aches. He’s spent so many years seeing this arm as something heavy, something sharp, something to hide. But to them? It’s just Daddy’s arm, and it’s perfect.

The youngest starts first, carefully peeling off stickers: unicorns, stars, tiny flowers, little hearts. She presses them one by one along his forearm, chattering happily. “This one’s for bravery! This one’s for bedtime stories! This one’s for carrying me on your shoulders!” Bucky listens to every word, nodding solemnly. “Best job I’ve ever had,” he murmurs, and she beams like he just gave her the world.

Then comes the glitter glue. Lots of it. Swirls and stripes, little dots along the edges. It dries tacky and bright, catching the light so his whole arm glimmers. Your oldest even paints tiny, delicate flowers along his wrist, her tongue poking out in concentration. “There,” she says, stepping back to admire her work. “Now you’re beautiful, Daddy.”

Bucky looks down at his arm—once a weapon, now covered in rainbows, sparkles, and tiny, lopsided blooms. His throat feels tight. He lifts them both in a hug, careful not to smudge anything, and presses soft kisses to their hair. “You two made it the best thing in the whole universe,” he whispers, and he means it more than anything he’s ever said.

When you come home later, you have to bite back a laugh. His metal arm is completely covered—bright, messy, wildly colorful. But what gets you is the look on his face: pure, unashamed adoration.

He refuses to wash a single bit off. Not before dinner, not before bed, not even when Steve drops by and raises an eyebrow. Bucky just holds his arm up proudly, glitter catching the light, and says, “My girls did this. Isn’t it amazing?” He sounds like he’s wearing a medal of honor.

At night, when they’re asleep, he sits by the window, gently touching the stickers and the paint. Some will peel, some will fade—but he doesn’t mind. He remembers every small hand, every giggle, every “I love you, Daddy” pressed into cool metal. For the first time in his life, this arm doesn’t feel like something that was done to him. It feels like something that belongs to them.

And when the last sticker finally falls off weeks later? He doesn’t let you throw it away. He tucks it into a little box on his nightstand, right beside his dog tags, your first polaroid together and the photo of the girls —proof that even the hardest, coldest things can be made soft and beautiful, if you let them be loved

[cutenomadgypsy]

THE GLASSES PARADOX

▸ PAIRING: Thunderbolts Bucky Barnes x Lawyer FemRead.

▸ WARNINGS: A lot of banter mostly. Flirting. Slightly suggestive. Keeping it PG13 for noooow!!!

▸ WORD COUNT: 3K

▸ A/N: Just my daydreaming after a day of lawyering up hard. Should I write a 2nd Part?

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Being a lawyer has always been easy as breathing for you. Law was logical, it had structure, followed a pattern. In a world that half of the time didn’t make any sense, you found comfort in playing a game where the rules were perfectly set.

However, there is always a loophole, an exception. A crack on your otherwise solid foundation.

You like to call him “the bane of your existence”. The rest of the world simply knew him as James Buchanan Barnes.

You don’t particularly like Valentina De Fontaine. Truth be told, you barely tolerate her. When she offered you to became “The New Avengers” legal advisor you should have said no. You should have run for the hills screaming and never look back.

Instead you stayed. Probably it had to do with a pair of piercing blue eyes that looked at you as you were a human Rubbick Cube he was trying to solve and failing catastrophically.

A sexy one, if you may add, from the way he subtly checked you out as you exited that first meeting.

Soon you were going to find out that if staring were an Olympic event, Bucky Barnes would’ve taken the gold medal home in a heartbeat.

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TWO MONTHS LATER

“Something I can help you with Barnes or you just got lost on the way to the old grumpy citizens convention?” You say without taking your eyes from your laptop.

“Cue. You know you’re wasting your comedic talents in these tower.” He look deadly serious.

“Really? Not even a smile? Tough crowd.” You state in an overly sweet voice just to emphasize the sarcasm.

He keeps looking at you with those stupid blue eyes. The sames ones that hunt your dreams every night.

You are the one that break eye contact first. You lower your gaze to his hands.Big mistake. You’ve dream about them too, all over your body, after trapping you in a dark office after hours…Ok. That was oddly specific. You need to calm the fuck down.

“As much as I enjoy our daily staring contest, I have a meeting in twenty minutes. Just tell me what you need. I haven’t develop the ability to read minds since the last time we meet.”

“You tell me, sweetheart. Mel said you need me to sign something.”

“Right! Right!” It’s truly unfair the way all coherent thoughts escape your body whenever he calls you those stupid nicknames.

Thank god you are borderline obsessive level of organized. You find the file in no time.

“Make the team sign it. ASAP”. Back to your professional persona. You mentally chastise yourself. You can not slip. He is a superhero. You are the legal arm of the organization. Move along. Nothing here to see.

You get up from your desk. Suddenly you are overcome by the need to regain control. You may have lose a battle but you are not going to lose the war.

You lean on your desk and you say in you calmest voice before handing him the document.”Barnes, please. And I can’t stress this enough. Please ! Use your words first, not your fists. Don’t make me send you to another boring seminar about liability.”

No answer. When you look up his whole demeanor has change.

Is it possible? Does he look flustered? Wait! Is he checking your legs out?

God figure! All this time you had the winning hand. The big scary super soldier had a thing for mini skirts.

Mental note: Buy Mini skirts. Lots of them.

“Barnes?” You try to look nonchalant.Not as someone whose heart rate has pick up exponentially over the course of the last minute.

“Yes, ma’am. Copy that.” He says as he takes the papers. At least he has the decency to look contrite.

As he leaves your office a mischievous smile threatens to show up on your face. You look at the door closing and whisper to yourself “It’s on Barnes. It’s soooo fucking on.”

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It was fair to say it was a hard week for Bucky Barnes. No punch intended. Every time he entered a room there you were, looking unbelievable beautiful, a constant reminder of what he was not supposed to want.

One moment you were in the elevator laughing at some dumb joke Alexei made. He wished he was the one making you laugh. Not in an elevator. He could picture you, wrapped in his arms, laughing, him whispering sweet nothings in your ear.

Then he found you in the kitchen having lunch with Yelena and Ava. You usually cook something easy for them, you don’t want them to survive solely on take out. He’d cook for you. God! He’d even light some candles. Get your favorite wine. His train of thoughts was getting way too dangerous.

Then he found you in the living room exchanging books with Bob. He’d gladly build a library for the books you like if you let him. “What the fuck Barnes?” He told himself while looking at his reflection in the mirror.

His inner monologue was getting more worring by the hour. It wasn’t just about what he would do to you in the supplies closet near your office. Though, to be honest, he thought about it in great detail, more times he was ready to admit, it was the domestic part that scared him the most.

The cherry on top of his fuckin-static week? He walked on Walker teaching you how to shot. What the actual fuck? You were letting fucking Walker touch you? He saw red. Murderous thoughts invaded his mind. 1001 ways to kill John Walker. “Easy Barnes. It looks perfectly innocent.”

What really bother him was that you didn’t come to him for help. He was a hell better shooter than Walker. He could’ve teach you. The things he would like to teach you. After midnight. Behind four walls. Lying in his bed. His name in your lips.

“Something is seriously wrong with you. Get a grip Barnes.” He kept repeating those four words like a mantra.

You were the sun and he was Icarus, flying too fucking close. He had to remind himself over and over you were off limits. Your relationship was strictly professional. You were order and he was chaos. Water and oil. Two elements not meant to be mix together.

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By Friday his self restraint was practically non existent. He was minutes away of asking Valentina to send him to a mission somewhere cold and far away from you. The Antarctica could work. He could check on the penguins and in the meantime CHILL THE FUCK OUT.

How’s the saying goes? When God shuts a door, he always opens a window. Because, by what can only be describe as divine intervention, Bucky Barnes was at the right place and at the right time to overhear a conversation between you and Mel that was about to change the trajectory of your relationship forever.

“Really? Superman? Isn’t it a bit of a cliché Mel?” You ask with the severity you’d discuss a Supreme Court decision.

“I’m sensing some judging vibes on your tone.” Mel says mocking you.

You look up from your desk while chewing your pen nervously.

"Well, Melanie, welcome to my TED talk: Why I'd choose Clark Kent over Superman every fucking time." She tries to suppress a laugh. "Please. Enlighten me."

”THE GLASSES MEL!!! The damn glasses. I’d take the hot nerd over the confident superhero in a heartbeat. You know, the whole piercing blue eyes, looking at me like a sad puppy, yearning like the main character of a Jane Austen novel combo. That’s my Achilles heel.”

“Jackpot.” He punch the air. It feels like Christmas was coming early this year.

Without knowing it you’ve just give him the key to crack the code. Now he has the upper hand. “Baby Girl you are so fucked”.

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Another uneventful Monday morning in the tower caught you buried in paperwork. After re-reading a document for the eleventh time without really understanding a word you figured it was time to get some caffeine on your system.

The kitchen was surprisingly empty. Lucky you. You were going to enjoy your coffee without unwanted company, broody intense company whose idea of fun was pushing all your buttons.

You were half way through your coffee, air pods on, your “happy playlist” playing, writing notes on a contract Valentina left on your desk, oblivious to the chaos about to unfold.

When you look up, Bucky Barnes was already sitting across from you, looking smug as hell. He always looks like a cocky bastard, but today he was being extra annoying. A spark in his eyes betrayed his cool facade. An unspoken message passed between the two of you, him making it perfectly clear he knew something you didn’t.

A sequence started developing on slow motion right in front your eyes and you were incapable of looking away. First he took a sip of his coffee, then he opened a book and finally with suspicious calm he took a pair of glasses from his pocket and slipped them onto his ridiculously handsome face.

You swore the world tilted silently on its axis. James “Bucky” Barnes wearing glasses was not on your 2025 bingo card. He looked like a hot librarian who walked out straight of your filthiest fantasy. Did you bang your head into a wall and felt into a coma? Was your day dreaming getting so out of hand that you couldn’t tell reality from fantasy anymore? What’s next? Him throwing your papers, effortlessly lifting you onto the table and kissing you nonsense until you forget your own name?

You were particularly proud of the way you carry yourself under pressure. Calm, collect, efficient. You had led hard negotiations with steel resolution throughout your professional career. The thing was, you hadn’t meet your match, till now. It took a blue eyed super soldier for you to lose your composure.

Your body went rogue and decided to betray you in the worst possibly moment. You ended up choking on your coffee like a fucking amateur.

“Hey. Are you okay?” Bucky looked concerned, mostly, and slightly amused that he was the reason behind your reaction.

You signed him to stay away while you were fighting for air.

What were the chances that the floor would crack open and swallow you whole? If there was a god above you, this was the perfect moment to perform a miracle and transport you to another dimension.

Tough luck. You had to deal with the humiliation without any divine intervention.

It took you a couple of minutes to regain your ability to speak. As the fog on your brain slowly lifted you were confronted with the fact you were never going to be able to look Bucky in the eyes again.

Gathering the last shreds of dignity you had left, you tried to make a quick escape from the kitchen. The only feasible course of action your brain could came up with was playing dumb and moving along as fast as you can. Feigning ignorance never kill anyone you told yourself.

“Seriously sweetheart! Are you okay?”

“Yes, Yes, actually I think I forgot to turn off my oven. Gotta run. Bye.” You said avoiding any eye contact.

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After what you aptly named "The incident", you went full lock down mode. Your office was now your sanctuary. Outside those four walls nothing but hostile territory. You couldn't just go back to normal and pretend nothing happened. Like Bucky fucking Barnes hadn't rearranged the whole chemistry of your brain with just a pair of glasses.

You really tried but going back to your daily activities seemed like an impossible task. Your brain refused to cooperate. Treacherous little thing. It kept flooding your mind with vivid images of Bucky.

Him caging you, trapping you against your desk, blue eyes teasing you through those stupid glasses, leaving goosebumps as his eyes traced your body like a map. A smug smile plastered in his devastatingly handsome face.

You could almost sense him. A ghost hunting you oh so beautifully. His scent, intoxicating, awakening every single nerve of your body. Cedar, leather and something unmistakably his.

How could you feel his lips on your mouth when he had never kissed you? How could you feel his hands on your waist when he had never touch you there? You were trap in a feverish dream you couldn't wake up from.

The following days you avoided him like the plague. You thought you were being subtle, that he wouldn't notice your disappearing acts every time he walked into a room. You might as well be called "Houdini" by now.

But he did. In the way your eyes didn't meet his anymore during coffee breaks, or the fact you didn't look for him to complain about whatever trouble the team got into. You, always feisty and sassy, quick mouthed and sharp, always the spark that ignited the fire within him, silently, slowly, had retreated into yourself.

Even the team noticed. Walker dropped the bomb one morning over coffee and fresh pastries.

"Wait. Something is off and I can't quite put my finger around it."

"Mum and Dad are not fighting." Yelena answered way too quicky.

"Ha Ha! Freaking hilarious. You know, despite what you people think Bucky and I can be civilized." You stated trying to seem unaffected and failing miserably.

Bob almost chocked on his croissant. "You never call him Bucky. Who are you?".

"Drop it or I'll report you with HH.RR". You said without any real bite in your words.

"You are HH.RR!!!!!" Everybody yelled at unison.

"Poor you." You stuck your tongue out like a petulant child. "I'm the judge, the jury, and the executioner. So drop it!".

You couldn't stay hidden forever. That much you know to be true. However, you were too far gone to solve the equation of Bucky Barnes.

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"Counselor?" The man of the hour stood on your door wearing that stupid black t-shirt two sizes too small to contain his beefy arms and that stupid smirk plastered on his face like he knew all the secrets of the universe.

"Sargent?" You tried to smile at him like you didn't carry the weight of the world on your shoulders.

"You've been awfully quiet these past days".

" Have I? Guess you children have been playing nice." You lied through your teeth.

"If you say so..." He knew you were full of shit but decided not no call your blaff.

"Almost 7 days without damaging private property. I should make Valentina hang a neon sign above my desk." You kept deflecting like your life depended on it.

"Can you help me with this contract? The text looks like gibberish. Be honest doll. Am I selling my soul to the cereal guys?"

"James Barnes asking for a favor? Nicely? Hell must have frozen over. You wore your sarcasm as your only armor. The walls you've built throughout the years to protect yourself had fallen one by one. Who knew a 106 soldier would be the one to tear them down.

"I can be civilized." Fuck. He must have heard you over breakfast.

"Fine. Hand it over." You signaled the papers with your fingers.

Without any warning he stood up with every intention of closing the gap between the two of you and reduce it to the absolute minimum expresion.

"What are you doing Barnes?" You opened your eyes wide, just like a baby deer about to get railed.

"Permission to approach the bench?" You'd be damned. This was the moment he chose to be charming?. Seriously?.

You didn't have any tricks left on your sleeve so you had no choice but to surrender. "Granted."

You were barely holding yourself together, with nothing but willpower. Having him share your personal space was a sweet torture. So close yet so out of reach. Still something you'd survive before. Him putting those stupid glasses on wasn't, though.

That ordinary act was the final thrust that pushed you down the abyss. You finally snaped. Your sanity? Gone. The filter between your brain and your mouth? Inexistent. Decorum? Decency? Shame? NOT FOUND.

"These! These stupid glasses have been driving me insane all week." You told him as you slowly removed them from his face. If you were going down, you were taking him with you.

"I haven't been able to think about anything else the whole week." Your voice dropped an octave. All sweet and velvety. "It's giving me hot librarian vibes. Like, Could you check out my books, please, Sir?"

He frozed. All thoughts left his body for what seemed an eternity. If you didn't know better you might think you broke him.

"Excuse me? "You could see a wide range of emotions flashing through his eyes. First shock mixed with disbelief, then hope, a spark of mischief and something that dangerously resemble to lust.

"You've heard me Barnes". He may had won a battle but you were going to win the war.

"I've been the one driving you crazy? Really? You've been parading with these for weeks." He traced the outlines of your skirt with his fingers. His touch light as a feather. "How is a man suppossed to get anything done?

"Super soldier is scared of these little thing?" Suddenly your body catched up with the situation. Your breath became uneven, your vision got blurry and you couldn't help but to bite your lip in anticipation to his next move.

"Little being the key word". He said as he lifted one eyebrow.

"The audacity!'. You feigned outrage. "Aren't you supposed to be some kind of 40s gentleman? All chivarous and well mannered?"

"I think you've got me confused with other super soldier babydoll." He lifted your chin with two fingers". I've never claimed to be a gentleman. In fact, I was more of a troublemaker back then."

"Don't threaten a girl with a good time Barnes."

"Soo... tell me. How that sexy librarian fantasy of yours continued...?

[pangur-and-grim]

pretty cool animal

[fangsofangels]

stray .

tags : bucky barnes x fem!reader , established relationship , SFW , bucky is a cat lover <3

word count : 400+

Meow.

Walking around the neighborhood park, you and Bucky stopped in your tracks.

You turn on your heel, behind you is a small kitten. Fur black, with the occasional white dotting over its nose and legs. 

Wiggling its ears, you see it slowly crawl up to the two of you.

“Oh my god.” You cover your mouth with your hands, lips curling into a smile you can’t control.

“Bucky! Look!” You exclaim, excitedly tapping his shoulder.

Bucky kneels down. His flesh arm guiding the critter towards him and his metal arm rubbing across its fur in a smoothing motion. 

The cat seems to like that, curling its tail into a C shape.

It turns on its belly, stretching out its limbs before rolling back up and crawling closer to Bucky. The cat confidently crawls over Bucky’s legs up into the crook of his metal arm, curling into a ball.

“It likes my arm.” Bucky smiles.

You secretly snapped a photo.

He continues petting the cat as it rests with his flesh arm. It was the first time you’ve seen Bucky smile for this long. His smile had always incited happiness in you too. It made you happy to see your boyfriend so calm. Away from the dangers of the world. Just you two.

“I think it’s Alpine's spirit guardian.” 

Bucky chuckled. “Yeah, maybe.”

Mrrrrowwwwwwwwww.

The cat yawned, a high pitch meow ringing in your ears. It quickly stood back up, and disappeared into the bushes as soon as it appeared.

“Noo! Kitty!” You kneeled in front of the bushes, trying to follow the cat's tracks, but the dark sky made it hard to see. You squinted. Nothing.

Bucky held out an arm and helped you stand. 

“Gone as soon as it came.” Bucky remarked, looking back at the bush.

You link your hands again, walking back home. You pull out the picture you took on your phone. Flipping the phone screen so he could see.

You giggle. “You're so cute.”

“Your 106 year old boyfriend is not cute,” he replied.

“Look at the picture. You’re the cutest.” You bump his shoulder while smiling.

“Dont send that to Sam.” 

“Too late.” You reply.

He tousles your hair with his hand, You chuckle and shove him away jokingly. He picks you up with practiced ease. You squirm. “Bucky! Put me down!” Kicking your legs and flailing your arms in the air.

He tilts his head to look down at you. A beat passes before he starts smothering your face in pecks and kisses, his stubble scratching your face.

You laugh “Bucky! Tickles!” you holler.

[the-fanfic-corner]

First Lemonade

Bucky Barnes x reader

Word count: 360

A/N: Based off the prompt 'Lemonade' off of @juniebjonesin's July event list! I had to spin the wheel because there were too many fun prompts 😂 And my first venture back into the world of fanfic since I left my old blog a couple years ago, so what better way to come back than with some Bucky fluff!

In all your years knowing him, you have never seen James Buchanan Barnes look as flabbergasted as the way he’s currently looking at you. It’s a good thing he’d already set his box of cereal down, you think, since otherwise you predict there would have been a non-zero chance of somebody needing to clean spilled Fruity Pebbles off the floor. 

“What?” you ask, blinking twice at him as he gapes at you.

“You’ve never had lemonade-?”

“Never,” you confirm. Reassured it’s nothing actually serious, you attempt to move past him to start the kettle for your cup of morning tea, but he stops you with a hand on your arm. Gentle, just like he always is with you.

“Doll, I don’t believe you understand the gravity of what you just told me. You are in America - the United States of America - and you have never had a cool, refreshing, heaven-sent glass of lemonade?”

“Nope.” At this point you’re biting back a smile. This big, buff, beefcake of a man who has crowds instinctively parting to let him pass just because of his stature, this soldier who has seen more horrors and inexplicable mysteries than you could fathom, this is the same man who can’t comprehend how lemonade seems to have evaded you up until now. “See, it wasn’t really a thing where I’m from. Typically people just drank iced tea or soda.”

“Iced tea is good,” he affirms, and you take this moment of relenting as your chance to actually start the kettle. “But you still can’t live here and never have had a traditional American lemonade. Hell, you can’t be dating me, an American and not have had American lemonade. You know what? Darlin’, make sure the pitcher is clean. I gotta go to the store and when I’m back I’m making you lemonade.”

He’s halfway to the door before you process it. “Bucky? What are you getting from the store?”

“Lemons and sugar, doll!” he calls back, and not a moment later you hear the door latch shut behind him.

Can’t help loving him, you think to yourself with a smile. Even if he is a dork sometimes.

[buckyscaptain]

public enemy number one | girl dad bucky x fem reader

authors notes: this came entirely from a tiktok that i saw and thought yeah that's kinda bucky coded! i'm always so unoriginal when it comes to naming his kids, so oops. i swear this is so silly, i was just waffling for half of it.

warnings: sam's a menance, bucky threatens to kill him (lovingly), a whole load of fluff! and i think that's it?

word count: 1.2k

summary:

being a dad is all fun and games until she learns how to slap bucky— or so he thinks until you change his point of view on it all.

masterlist!

if you had to pick which was harder, between saving the world (twice) and being a mom for the first time, you'd have to pick being a mom. at least saving the world came with a little more sleep and some vague resemblance of a schedule. being a first time mom felt like you were free falling without a parachute.

and bucky?

bucky had been so good through all of it that sometimes he made you want to cry without even trying—the weeks of sleepless nights had been for nothing, he'd taken to it like a duck to water. and in all of that, he let you sleep in as often as he could, holding the fort down. today had been one of those days where you'd woken up to the light filtering through the crack in the curtains instead of tiny little cries from the nursery.

you yawned softly as you padded into the kitchen, completely unfazed by the fact sam was already in your house. if it wasn't him, it was steve, if it wasn't steve then it was nat—and if it was none of them? something was probably wrong somewhere. but this felt different, like everything was charged in some way that you didn't get yet.

"now why does it feel like i'm walking into something?"

"you're not."

"you so are." sam snorted from behind his coffee mug, which earned him a death glare from bucky. "you have no idea what you're walking into. "you're raising one hell of a baby, you know that? at this rate, we're gonna have to get her a little avengers onesie and some wings."

"you're not getting my girl wings, birdbrain." bucky grumbled, holding becca at arms length like she was ticking time bomb instead of his little girl. you raised an eyebrow as you watched him, held tilting slightly as you tried to figure it out as her arms waved wildly. "she slaps him." sam said with way too much enthusiasm for this time of the morning, or ever, really. "every time he speaks, she slaps him on the cheek. first time is a coincidence, right? but we're sat here, talkin' about the mission report, and boom! she keeps at it."

bucky looked like he wanted the ground to open up and swallow him whole. he loved her with everything he had, and she was more interested in smacking him—and she didn't even have that much dexterity yet. it didn't even mark, but it made a dent in his ego, a big one. "she doesn't slap me. i don't even think—hey!" she managed to wiggle herself forward enough to reach him, her palm slapping against his cheek. the worst part—at least for him—was the fact she looked over the moon with herself each time, giggling and babbling like it was the best thing she'd ever discovered. you just blinked at him as you held back a laugh, trying your hardest to keep a straight face. because it wasn't funny.

except it was, it really really was.

"oh." you breathed softly, lips twitching as you failed to keep it under control any longer. "that's—yeah. okay, that's a thing. uh huh. a new development" you nodded as you sat down on the couch next to him as you reached over, scooping becca out of his arms. "hey, pretty girlie. yeah, hi." you cooed as she settled in your arms, head resting against your shoulder. "i dunno, she seems fine to me." bucky rolled his eyes, grumbling something under his breath that you couldn't make out. "yeah, because she's not trying to assault you. i did everything right, all of it. changed her, fed her on time. and she's still acting like i'm public enemy number one." he was pouting now—bottom lip fully sticking out like a petulant schoolkid instead of a fully grown super soldier turned dad.

"first of all, she isn't assaulting you. she's less than ten pounds, her brain isn't even developed enough to know what the word means." you murmured as you dipped your head enough to press a kiss to the top of her head. "i think you're looking at it all wrong. thanks." you smiled as sam set you a cup of coffee down on the table in front of you.

"i think she's just excited to listen to you, and she's just redirecting it all wrong. because unfortunately—or fortunately, depending on how you look at it—she inherited the gene from me that means she'd listen to you read the back of the cereal box from me. didn't you, baby? yeah, you did." you cooed, bouncing her slightly as she started to babble again. "she's only got little arms, your cheek is the closest thing she can reach. here, try again." you passed her back over before you picked your mug up and took that first sweet, sweet, sip of caffeinated goodness. "she's just gonna do it again." he huffed as she watched her eyes light up as he lifted her up in the air, arms getting ready to flail around in his direction.

"you're a traitor, baby girl. i thought we had something going, y'know?a bond, but this is how you repay me, huh?" you curled your legs underneath yourself as you tried to get comfy, holding your breath for a second as you watched her wave her arm around. bucky lifted her up, blowing a raspberry as she giggled away. instead of hitting his cheek, this time she opted for his forehead—similar to the way the two of you petted alpine, who was probably hiding in your office somewhere from all the noise—as the pieces started to fall into place.

"oh, so now she's pettin' you." sam grinned, folding his arms across his chest as he watched on. this was probably the most fun he'd had in a very long time, there was something hilarious about a six foot wall of muscle being petted like a house cat. "at least it's an improvement."

bucky glared at him before he lowered her into his lap and covered her ears so he could continue. "i'm gonna kill you one day. real slow, and i'm gonna enjoy it." he uncovered her ears once the threat was out of the way—because he was determined that she'd never know violence, even in the form of an empty threat. "she's showing you that she loves you. think about it—she watches us do this with alps all the time. i think she's been watching." you couldn't prove it officially, but you were starting to think that she was smarter than most babies her age, she seemed to grasp things well beyond her. "she's trying to love you."

that cracked something wide open in his chest, letting that warm fuzzy feeling back in. the same one he got every time she yawned, or moved, or just blinked. despite the gruff exterior, she was slowly melting him from the inside out. "she loves me." he murmured like it was some kind of groundbreaking fact and not something he'd known subconsciously since the first time he'd held her in his arms. sam was absolutely recording the whole thing to pull back up later down the line when bucky tried to protest the fact that he wasn't soft, but right now, all bucky could focus on was the babbling baby in his lap who'd just petted him. "yeah, you love me."

there was a hundred times in his life where he thought he'd never get this—stability, a family, love, and now it consumed every minute of his life, and it wasn't something he'd swap for anything in the world.

[digital-nocturne]

Stucky gals.

(Stephanie x Jamie)

I got mad while drawing this and cropped the shit out of it— rest in peace to Steph’s tummy.

[srdonix]

His character being tossed around like chopped liver in canon is making me maternal.

[motteteto]

i need you to do better than "i don't know."

[digital-nocturne]

Pre serum Stucky? Ever? 🥹

I don’t draw pre serum stucky a lot, simply because I have no ideas for them.

I’ll do some more requests tomorrow if I have some time at the end of the day!

[phantomrose96]

Sometimes spinning a magnet for 30 minutes is a labor of love.