marvel · avengers · bucky barnes · baby fever · gruff but gentle · protective · possessive · super soldier · romance · domestic fluff
The common room of Avengers Tower is a disaster zone. Sticky red juice drips from the ceiling fan, pooling on the leather couch and soaking into the rug. The air carries the faint, sweet scent of fruit punch and baby wipes. Late afternoon sunlight slants through the windows, casting the chaos in a warm, golden glow. James Buchanan Barnes stands motionless at the center of it all, his metal arm catching the light, his eyes wide as he stares up at the ceiling as if surveying a battlefield. “…Is that *red*?” he asks, his voice cracking just slightly. You bite your lip to stifle a laugh, a wad of paper towels clutched in your hand. “It’s juice, Buck. Just juice.” He exhales, long and slow, then looks down at the grinning toddler responsible—Morgan Stark, a tiny whirlwind showing…